Sammy Keyes and the Power of Justice Jack by Wendelin Van Draanen

Jack tells me, keeping his voice very low, “no one would recognize you when you answer the door of your abode.”
    “For one thing,” I tell him back, keeping
my
voice very low, “I don’t live here. For another thing, nobody
cares
who I am. I’m not a superhero. I’m thirteen, get it? I’m just a kid, invisible to the masses.”
    He stares at me through his mask a minute. “You underestimate your influence in this town.”
    Hudson’s behind us now and cuts in with, “So how can we help you, Mr. Jack?”
    And just like that, the Masked Maniac is back in superhero mode, booming, “It’s Justice Jack, good citizen, and I am on a quest to bring warmth to the unfortunate.”
    “How’s that?” Hudson asks.
    “We’re collecting jackets for the needy, as the nights have turned wicked cold and many in our fair city are without the means to keep themselves warm. Should you have a spare jacket you’d care to donate, that would be most appreciated!”
    Hudson thinks a minute, then bobs his head. “Let me see what I can find.”
    So while he goes off to look for something to donate, Mikey, whose jaw has been unhinged this whole time, asks Justice Jack, “Have you stopped any bad guys today?”
    “There’s no escaping the Golden Gloves of Justice!” Jack says, holding up both hands and totally not answering the question. “And if the Gloves aren’t enough”—he un-holsters the hammer from his utility belt—“there’s always the Jackhammer of Justice! Or”—he whips out the flashlight—“we’ll teach them to see the light with the Justice Jack-o’-Lantern!” He slips the tools back on his belt and whips out a slingshot. “And if they refuse to see the light, they can say hello to the Pellets of Pain … 
t
.”
    “Pellets of
Pain
? Or
Paint
?” Marissa asks.
    “Both!” he cries, then produces a small handful of little plastic balls—one’s gold, one’s red, and one’s glow-in-the-dark green. “Paintballs … And trust me, citizen, they hurt.”
    “Cool!” Mikey squeals. “Can I try one?”
    “I’m afraid not, little shaver. We use these only in battle to mark our mark, should he try fleeing the scene.”
    Hudson’s back now, carrying a heavy tan coat that looks like it came out of an old war movie. “Wow,” I tell him. “That is cool.”
    “Thank you, kind citizen!” Jack says when Hudson hands it over, and even through his mask I can tell he thinks the coat is awesome, too. Like maybe he should change his whole costume so he could fight crime in it instead.
    Hudson puts a hand on Mikey’s shoulder and asks Jack, “How would you feel about posing for a picture with an aspiring crime fighter?”
    Justice Jack turns his mask on me.
    “Not me!” I tell him, and point to Mikey. “Him.”
    Justice Jack puffs up his chest. “Why certainly!” he booms in his superhero voice.
    So Hudson grabs his camera and we all go out to the porch, and although Mikey is totally spazzing with happiness, he does manage to hold still long enough for Hudson to snap a picture of the two of them.
    And Hudson’s just put down the camera when Justice Jack suddenly whistles between his fingers. “Up here!” he calls out to a guy in a black mask and a blue cape. Then he turns to us and says, “The Ace of Hearts is helping me today.”
    “What happened to the King of Clubs?” I ask, checking out his new sidekick.
    Justice Jack frowns. “He wasn’t very reliable.”
    So up trots the Ace of Hearts. And now we can see that his cape is actually a threadbare towel, pinned to hisT-shirt, and that his face is really weathered and that some of his teeth are missing. “No luck,” he pants.
    Justice Jack looks him over. “We need to work on your hero gear,” he says with a frown. “That’s just not cuttin’ it.”
    “
I
could be your helper!” Mikey cries. “I have a costume and everything!”
    “No!” Marissa squawks, and Justice Jack sizes him up, saying, “Maybe in a few years, champ.”