Flora and Ulysses: Chapters 1–16

Flora’s mother had often accused Flora of being a "natural-born cynic."

"This malfeasance must be stopped,” said Flora in a deep and superheroic voice.

“This malfeasance must be stopped” was what the unassuming janitor Alfred T. Slipper always said before he was transformed into the amazing Incandesto and became a towering, crime-fighting pillar of light.

The average squirrel cogitation goes something like this: I wonder what there is to eat. This "thought” is then repeated with small variations (e.g., Where’s the food? Man, I sure am hungry. Is that a piece of food? and Are there more pieces of food?) some six or seven thousand times a day.

Seemingly, swallowing a squirrel was a bit much even for the powerful, indomitable, indoor/outdoor Ulysses 2000X.

She dropped to her knees and gave the tail a tentative tug.

TERRIBLE THINGS CAN HAPPEN TO YOU! detailed what action to take if you inadvertently consumed plastic fruit (this happened more often than you would suppose—some plastic fruit was extremely realistic looking); how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on your elderly aunt Edith if she choked on a stringy piece of steak at an all-you-can-eat buffet; what to do if you were wearing a striped shirt and a swarm of locusts descended (run: locusts eat stripes); and, of course...CPR.

TERRIBLE THINGS CAN HAPPEN TO YOU! detailed what action to take if you inadvertently consumed plastic fruit (this happened more often than you would suppose—some plastic fruit was extremely realistic looking); how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on your elderly aunt Edith if she choked on a stringy piece of steak at an all-you-can-eat buffet; what to do if you were wearing a striped shirt and a swarm of locusts descended (run: locusts eat stripes); and, of course...CPR.

The squirrel heard another voice. This voice was counting. The light receded.
"Breathe!” the new voice shouted.

The squirrel obliged. He took a deep, shuddering breath. And then another. And another. The squirrel returned.

Flora tried to remember what TERRIBLE THINGS CAN HAPPEN TO YOU! advised in the event of a seizure.

Mrs. Tickham continued to laugh hysterically.

Who can say what astonishments are hidden inside the most mundane being?

For instance, heroes—superheroes—were born of ridiculous and unlikely circumstances: spider bites, chemical spills, planetary dislocation, and, in the case of Alfred T. Slipper, from accidental submersion in an industrial-size vat of cleaning solution called Incandesto!

Sometimes (often, in fact) they treated him with disdain.

They had no idea of the astonishing acts of heroism, the blinding light, contained within his outward, humdrum disguise.

The setting sun was illuminating each blade of grass.

She turned away from the smug and glowing Mary Ann and climbed the stairs to her room, holding Ulysses gently, carefully in her arms.

“See? Alfred T. Slipper becomes a righteous pillar of light so painfully bright that the most heinous villain trembles before him and confesses!”

“See? Alfred T. Slipper becomes a righteous pillar of light so painfully bright that the most heinous villain trembles before him and confesses!”

Ulysses furrowed his brow.

She changed into her pajamas, lay down, and imagined the words A SUPERHERO SQUIRREL RESTED AT HER FEET, AND SO SHE WAS NOT LONELY AT ALL emblazoned on the ceiling above her.

“Holy unanticipated occurrences!”

She knew that her mother was absentminded and preoccupied, but this was ridiculous.

She knew that her mother was absentminded and preoccupied, but this was ridiculous.

“Squirrel!" said Flora out loud; she felt a surge of delight at the zippy idiocy of the word.

“You left cheese dust all over the typewriter. That’s disrespectful. And you simply cannot eat a whole bag of cheese puffs. It’s not healthy. You’ll become stout.”

Something had happened to the bell; its inner workings had become twisted, warped, confused, so that instead of emitting a pleasant ding or bong, the doorbell now sent an angry, window-shattering, you-guessed-the-wrong-answer-on-a-game-show kind of buzz through the Buckman house.

Something had happened to the bell; its inner workings had become twisted, warped, confused, so that instead of emitting a pleasant ding or bong, the doorbell now sent an angry, window-shattering, you-guessed-the-wrong-answer-on-a-game-show kind of buzz through the Buckman house.

Flora had found it to be a vaguely threatening and not at all useful issue of TERRIBLE THINGS!

The electric-chair knell of the doorbell sounded through the house again.

We’re going to be vanquishing villains left and right.

The doorbell gave another outraged sizzle.

“I’ve come to check and see if what I think happened yesterday actually happened, or if I’m the victim of an extended hallucination."

His feet were scrabbling to gain purchase on the little shepherdess's pink-flowered lampshade.