Super Heroes Inc.

Matthew Winters has a lot of money. He’s been seen around town with a huge grin on his face, literally skipping and tossing money into the air, free for anyone to grab. Every Saturday at 2 p.m., he strolls into Super Scooper ice cream shop and buys every kid there a cone, never buying any for himself as he just pats his trim waist and says he’s watching his weight.

Even with these random acts of generosity, or possibly just acts of madness, he still has more money than he knows what to do with.

He once started chatting with his mail carrier and on hearing that she couldn’t make rent that month in her rat-infested, leaky-roofed apartment, ended up buying her a new house.

Even though they could have lived off his money forever, Matthew Winters sent all five of his children to the best schools, paying full tuition each time and giving an extra donation to each school - always enough to renovate a building or two that would inevitably be named Winters Hall or Winters Auditorium. He valued education, he said, and wanted his children to be smarter than he ever was.

The thing is, Matthew Winters is my grandpa. And even though he’s always been generous with me through the years, I have a big favor to ask him.

Super Heroes Inc. just opened a middle school in town. I want to go. So. Bad. I know I have it in me to be a super hero. The problem is, my mom didn’t want to live off Grandpa’s money. She decided to try to make it on her own. I bet you can guess: she didn’t.

Well, I shouldn’t say that. We have money. We have a house and clothes and food and mom paid for me to join the travel baseball team. But we don’t have Grandpa money.

So I’m going to ask Grandpa to get me into Super Heroes Inc.

I prep my story. I share it with him on the way to Super Scoopers one Saturday when I know he’ll be in a generous mood.

“Please, Grandpa,” I finish. “I’ve never wanted something so much in my life. And just think, if I train to be a super hero, I can help people, just like you do.”

Grandpa stops walking, looks thoughtfully at the sky, then straight ahead to the big plastic ice cream cone outside Scoopers.

He looks over at me and I pull my best, sweet, well-meaning kid face: eyes wide, gentle smile, eyebrows up in anticipation.

He nods, then resumes his was to Scoopers. “Alright. Sounds like a good idea to me.” I breathe out a sigh of relief, not even realizing I’d been holding my breath. “How much is tuition?”

This is the tricky part of the favor. “That’s the thing,” I say. “I’m not sure, really. It doesn’t say on their website.”

“Well did you call?” Grandpa is good at tech stuff but has always preferred more old fashioned ways of communication.

“I did,” I answer, knowing he’d ask me this. “They said you just have to come in and apply.”

Grandpa nods again, his hand on the handle for Scoopers. “I guess that’s what we’ll do then.” He smiles and holds the door open for me. 

I smile back, an excited “Yes” nearly escapes my lips.

Two days later, I find myself at the Super Heroes Inc. admissions office with Granpda. He’s armed with his checkbooks, full compliment of credit cards and a file folder with what I can only image is more bank-related stuff he thinks he might need to pay my tuition.

But Grandpa’s usual smile has been flattened to a thin line slicing straight across the lower half of his face. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Winters,” Donny the admissions officer is saying for what seems like the hundredth time. “This is not a fee-based school. Your grandchild may apply and then…”

Grandpa cuts him off. “Yes, yes. You’ve said all this already.” 

Donny raises his eyebrows and makes a grim face that say, I sure have and you don’t seem to be understanding me.

I start to get anxious. As much as I want to be a super hero, maybe this isn’t meant to be. I grab the elbow patch on Grandpa’s jacket and tug gently. “Let’s just go, Grandpa. It’s ok.”

Grandpa looks at me with a gentle smile. Then turns to Donny with a stern face. “No. No, it’s not ok. My grandchild wants to be a super hero. This, as I understand it, is a super hero school. There must be a way. Name your price. I assure you I can pay it.”

Donny sighs. “And again, Mr. Winters, I can assure you there is no price to be named. You cannot just give us a bunch of money so that your grandchild can come to our school. It doens’t work that way.”

It’s at this point that a smiling brown face comically pops out from behind a wall, just beyond Donny. “Is there a problem?” The face asks with a smile.

Grandpa gives an impatient smile in return. “Yes, there is a problem. Donny here won’t accept my grandchild into your school.”

“Oh, I see,” she has a genuine look of concern and Donny steps aside to let her take of the conversation. “Well, I’m Nashani, the head of admissions here at Super Heroes Inc.”

“Finally,” Grandpa says. He’s so used to just pulling out his wallet and getting his way, he hasn’t had to exert this amount of effort in a while. “Can you please just tell me the tuition or fee or whatever it is you want to call it? I’d like to enroll my grandchild in your school. What Donny doesn’t seem to understand is that there is no price too high for me. I will pay what it costs and more.”

Nashani still looks at us with concern, me as much as my grandpa. “Oh, I’m sorry sir. I’m afraid Donny has that right. We’re not a fee-based school.”

I can almost hear Grandpa’s blood boiling. While I want to let him handle it, I’m not sure he’ll be able to without someone getting seriously hurt.

“Excuse me Nashani,” I interrupt, again putting on my well-mannered kid face, trying to look genuine and like I want to help. That should win me some points at a super hero school, right? “How could I get into the school then? If there’s not a fee.”

“Great question…”

“Cal,” I fill in for her.

“Cal. Great to meet you, by the way, Cal. You just have to apply and then we have some aptitude tests for you to complete. As long as you pass those, you’re in. No fee required. We’re here to find real super heroes and train them up to help save our world. You shouldn’t have to pay for that. As long as you really are a super hero, that is.”

“That’s really it?” Grandpa asks, still not comprehending that money is not part of the equation.

Both Donny and Nashani relax and smile. “That’s it,” Nashani says.

“So, when can we do this? Apply and take the tests, that it?”

Donny and Nashani consult a planner book spread out on the counter that separates us from them. Donny points and looks at Nashani, shrugging. Nashani smiles and looks at me,

“How about right now? What do you say, Cal? Ready to see if you’re a super hero?”