Attack of the Tagger by Wendelin Van Draanen Read Free Book Online

site of his.”
    “A Web site?” My mouth was dry. My throat felt choked. What if they went to the site and could tell I had built it? What if they—
    “She called it a cry for attention.”
    I almost jumped out of my chair and shouted, No way! It’s a call for truth and justice! It’s an awesome site! How can she not like it?
    Then I remembered the link to
Bubba’s Big Butt.
    Principals—and teachers and
parents
—are funny about butts.
    And underwear.
    And farts and burps and barf and B.O. and poop.
    They make being an adult seem really, really boring.
    “Nolan?”
    “Huh?”
    “Where were you just then?” my dad asked.
    “I… I don’t know. Daydreaming, I guess.”
    “Well, I was asking—what do
you
know about this Shredderman character?”
    “Uh… that he’s a good guy.”
    “A good guy who sprays graffiti?” my mom asked.
    “He didn’t spray it!” I cried.
    “Oh?” they both said, looking at me.
    Whoops.
    I tried smiling. “At… at least
I
don’t think he did. I think—”
    The phone rang.
    Phew.
    Dad said, “Sorry, Eve, but I’ve got to get it. Just in case.” We could hear him from over by Mom’s
    desk. “Hello?….Hey, Sarge.…Uh-huh…uh’
    huh…. Seriously?… Uh-huh … uh-huh…. Is that spelled just like it sounds?…Got it. Okay, I’ll be sure to check it out.”
    “What was that about?” Mom asked after he hung up.
    “Sarge went to that Web site—
shredderman.com.
Says it’s a riot.”
    “So Shredderman’s
not
the Tagger?” my mom asked.
    “That’s yet to be seen.” He took a bite of lasagna. “But we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
    After dinner, Dad booted up Mom’s computer. He typed in
shredderman.com.
    Mom hung over his shoulder.
    I held my breath.
    All of a sudden, music blared from the speakers! Shredderman streaked across the top of the screen in his purple mask and cape! The SHREDDERMAN banner fluttered behind him!
    Then the Bouncer boinged into view. He flexed his tattooed muscles. One biceps popped up with TRUTH, the other popped up with JUSTICE.
    My dad spotted the
Attention: Tagger!
link. Heclicked! And a few seconds later, he said, “Look at this, Eve! Shredderman’s not the Tagger!”
    My mom nodded. “But he’s sure egging him on, don’t you think? Calling him chicken and all?”

    “Hmmm,” my dad said. “But it does look like he meant well.”
    “Unless he’s got a dark side.” She glanced at my dad. “You know, like an alter ego?”
    My dad laughed, “A schizophrenic superhero?”
    “Steven, don’t laugh! They’re all a little that way when you think about it. Spider-Man, Superman, Batman… they’re all tortured inside, don’t you think?”
    “Superman?” my dad asked. He was clicking on the
Jokes
link now. “How’s Superman tortured? He’s got superstrength, he’s got X-ray vision, he can
fly.
Give me that kind of torture any day!”
    “You’re missing the whole point, Steven! He’s tortured by his isolation. He’s lonesome. They’re all lonesome!”
    “That doesn’t mean they have a
dark
side. That just means—”
    My mom cut him off. “You’re telling me Batman doesn’t have a dark side? You’re telling me—”
    “Oh, Eve, for cryin’ out loud. They’re
characters.
Somebody made them up! Whoever this Shredderman character is, he’s
real.
” He was scrolling through my
Jokes
page when suddenly he sat back and read, ‘”What do you call a bully fire?’”
    My mom leaned forward and read the answer. ‘”A Bubba-que?”
    She looked at Dad.
    Dad looked at her.
    They both busted up.
    Dad turned to me and said, “This has got to be about Alvin Bixby, don’t you think? How many Bubbas can there be?”
    I mumbled, “Looks like,” and tried to breathe.
    Mom looked at me. “Have you visited this site before?”
    I shrugged. “I’ve
heard
about it.”
    “Well, with all the trouble Alvin’s caused you—
    “Ha ha!” I laughed, pointing to a joke on the screen like I’d never seen it before.