In shock, she flew circles around her house—or at least, where her house had once stood. Below, in a smoldering heap, was what was left of the yellow two-story structure with white-shuttered windows. Off to the side, holding hands, were Mr. and Ms. Andrena-Beecher, talking to EMTs and police.
Bumblebee took a deep breath before landing and turning human-sized. “Mom? Dad?” She gathered them in a loving—and rather strong—embrace.
“Whoa! Ouch. Watch the arm,” her father said, attempting to sound jolly.
Bumblebee stepped back and noticed his left arm tucked into a sling. “What happened?” she asked.
“It was a freak accident,” Ms. Andrena-Beecher struggled to explain. “The police think termites got to the tree and then the tree fell…”
“…on the house,” Mr. Andrena-Beecher continued. “And it cut through some electrical wires, setting it on fire and causing some of your tech to explode.”
“Karen—er, Bumblebee,” her mom went on, “honey, there’s not much left of the house or your lab.”
Bumblebee nodded as she surveyed the damage. Most of the house was gone, except for a few things the firefighters had been able to rescue, like a gold-framed photo her father had taken of her when she’d first begun perfecting her flight suit. While some kids had school pictures on the walls to commemorate each year of school, Bumblebee’s dad had taken an annual flight photo.
Ms. Andrena-Beecher hugged the photo tight. “We were lucky. This could have been much worse.”
Bumblebee studied the remains of her tech lab. It was a mess. Then again, it was always a mess. But this was a mess times a hundred. A broken triple-action motor controller here, a shattered ultrasonic range finder there, and rubble everywhere. She felt a queasy sensation in her stomach when she saw the original battery pack she had worked on for her first super suit. Half of it was melted, like a honeycomb candy bar left in the sun. The latest and far more sophisticated version of the battery wasn’t in much better shape. And her backup super suit was missing entirely—probably somewhere in the rubble.
Bumblebee recalled the day she’d finally gotten her super suit to work, years earlier. Her father had been frightened, and her mother had been wary when Karen began to shrink.
“She knows what she’s doing,” her mother said. Then she added, “Please tell me I’m right, Karen.”
Thrilled, their daughter flew around the room, buzzing over the tops of their heads, before turning back to her regular size. “I did it!” she said, her eyes shining.
Her mother reached for her father’s hand. “She did it,” she said.
Mr. Andrena-Beecher nodded. “I guess I know what this means,” he said solemnly.
Karen wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “Yes, yes,” she said. “I’m on my way to becoming a super hero! So now, when I’m old enough, can I apply to Super Hero High?”
Her dad shook his head no; her mom nodded yes. “We’ll have to have some family meetings and discuss this, Karen,” Ms. Andrena-Beecher said.
“But you promised,” she reminded them. “Dad, you said, ‘Karen, if you can figure out how to shrink, you can do anything you want!’ ”
“Yes, but…” Her father stumbled over his words.
Karen hugged him. “I know,” she said, smiling. “You didn’t really think I could do it. But surprise!”
“Surprise indeed, Karen,” her mother said, beaming with pride.
“Bumblebee!” their young daughter replied in a moment of inspiration. “Mom, Dad, from now on my name is Bumblebee.”