“Feels good, doesn’t it? To know we helped build that thing?” One of the brothers gestures to the other, and then takes a sip of his drink.
“Yes. It reminds me of when we first went into business. We could do anything together. No stoppin’ us.”
“Makes me wish we’d never found that token,” the first brother says. “I don’t think it did us any favors.”
“I agree. I wonder how that kid is getting along with it?”
It’s now or never, Arcade.
“Excuse me, Mr. Badger?” I barely squeak the words out. The brothers turn around. Zoe grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.
“Hey! Look who it is! The kid came to our rescue after all. I told you he would, Lenwood!” Kenwood steps forward. “So how has it been with the token, Arcade? That’s your name, right? Have you been traveling all over the world? How about the testing? Do you like being tested?”
“I hated that part,” Lenwood says.
I try to change the subject. “You guys built a nice bridge. Sorry I left you hanging. I didn’t know how to control the token back then.” I swallow hard. “But I got your letter . . .”
Lenwood’s eyes open wide. “You got our letter? Whoa. That was a long shot! Are you here to take us back?”
“Yes, I’m here to take you back to present day.” I finger my golden chain. “That is, if the token comes back and it listens to me again. It’s a little unpredictable.”
Kenwood chuckles. “Oh, you don’t have to tell us about that token. The thing made us crazy. But all is forgiven. Just like we wrote in the letter. We made up, and we’re ready to move on.”
“So, you’ve forgiven each other?” Zoe’s words echo a little in the night air.
Lenwood glances over at Kenwood. “Yeah. We’re working together now.”
Stay with your plan, Arcade.
Our conversation is interrupted by a large round of fireworks—the grand finale. Bursts of gold, red, and orange light up the sky, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background.
“They’ve been having parties in this park all week to celebrate the opening of the bridge,” Lenwood says. “But today, we celebrate our return home!” He reaches out and puts his arm around Kenwood. “You think grandma will be happy to see us?” Lenwood turns to me. “Did you know Miss Gertrude is our grandma?”
“Yeah, she told me that once.” The warning in her letter flashes in my mind:
Do not try to bring them back.
The grand finale crackles and sparkles. The crowd oohs and aahs. As the last fireworks explode, I feel the token drop back on my chest. It pulses heat like a flaming heartbeat. Or maybe it’s just my heart, beating out of my chest. Glitter falls from the fireworks in the sky and covers the grass in front of us. The last firework shoots out and draws an outline of elevator doors in the sky. They come and land in front of us. A golden coin slot, shaped like the Golden Gate Bridge, rises up from the ground. A little sign next to it says Pay Toll Here. I reach inside my shirt and, while Lenwood and Kenwood step toward the doors, I pull the token off the chain, put it between both my palms, and speak softly.
“Take the Badger brothers to present day San Francisco. Then take me and Zoe home.”
“C’mon kid! Open the doors!”
I can see in the eyes of the brothers the same thing I saw on that fateful day I left them hanging on the bridge. Greed. I wonder if Miss Gertrude was right. They aren’t ready yet.
Oh, well, here goes.
I step forward and deposit the token. Then I make the open-door motion with my hands. The doors open and the Badger brothers run in, laughing and yelling. “Finally! We’re going home!” And then, to my surprise, the doors close right behind them!
“ARCADE!” Zoe freaks out. “What did you just do? WE MISSED THE ELEVATOR!”
I hold my palms to the sky. “I don’t know what I just did!” But one thing I finally know for sure.
I trust the tester.
“We just need to wait for the next elevator, Zoe.”
“The NEXT elevator?”
“Yeah. You live in New York City, right? There’s always another elevator.”
* * *
Sure enough, another elevator appears! But this time, there is no coin slot. That’s fine, because I don’t have the token anyway. When the doors open, the Triple T lady is standing inside, smiling. She steps out.
“Happy travels,” she says, just like the first time I met her, in the Ivy Park Library. “You’re about to have a delightful—and definitely not boring—Thanksgiving.”
We step inside the elevator and she winks at me as the doors close.
Chapter 37
A Definitely Not Boring Thanksgiving
“It’s the coldest Thanksgiving in a century here in New York City!” The TV commentator shivered in her big, red puffy coat as she held the microphone. “And those balloons may not fly if this wind doesn’t calm down.”
Zoe, Doug, and I sat wrapped in blankets munching on cinnamon rolls and bacon. We were getting ready to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while Mom and Dad began the process of cooking turkey and all the other traditional stuff for our mid-afternoon feast.
“That’s cool your gram let you stay over last night,” I said to Doug.
“Yeah. A guy only turns twelve once in his life, and Gram thought I’d enjoy it more spending it with my best friend. I’ll hang out with her tonight.” Doug reached into a bag next to him and munched a corn chip. “Thanks for the birthday food bucket! I’ll probably eat it all before I have to go back to . . . ugh . . . balmy Florida.”
Zoe got up and looked out the frosty front window of our brownstone. “I can’t believe we went from the hottest summer to the coldest Thanksgiving ever!”
“I wonder how Elijah is doing with getting business in Central Park?”
“Probably not so well.” Zoe shook her head. “But he’ll find a way to enjoy the process, and he’ll smile through the cold. You know, we should be out there, too, watching the parade live! It starts just a few blocks south from us. We could be there in twenty minutes.”
I wrapped up in my blanket a little tighter. “BRRRRRRR.”
“Yeah,” Doug said. “BRRRRRRRRR!”
Zoe looked over at us and rolled her eyes. “Babies.”
Zoe’s phone buzzed. “Hello? Oh . . . hey, Michael . . . yes, I’m looking out the window right now . . . it’s crazy cold . . . what? Um . . .”
Zoe hopped behind the love seat and sat down, where we couldn’t see her. I jumped onto the love seat so I could hear what she was saying.
“. . . Yes, that would be fun . . . but aren’t you going with Trista? Broke up? . . . I’m sorry, Michael . . . yeah, I get it . . . Broadway strikes again . . . well, okay . . . that would be fun . . . let me ask my parents . . . yeah. . . . I have a warm coat . . .”
I popped my head over the love seat just as Zoe was standing, and we almost bumped heads.
“Arcade! Were you listening to my conversation?”
Before I got a chance to answer, Zoe’s phone buzzed again. She looked down at her screen. “It’s a notification from @LoopDogNYC!”
I pulled the phone from her hands to take a look. It was a new Picture Post of Loopy’s furry, chocolate-colored legs, standing in front of a giant balloon being held to the ground under a net!
I ran upstairs. Doug followed. “What’s goin’ on, Arcade?’
I flew into my room and began piling on clothes. “Today’s the day, Doug. We’re gonna get Loopy back!”
“We’re gonna get Loopy back?”
“That’s what I said! He’s over in the Thanksgiving parade balloon area!”
Zoe barged in my room. “But he’s there six years ago! How is that going to help us get him back?”
I checked to make sure my token was still there under all my layers. “We just have to wait for the token to heat up, and I know exactly what to say when it does. But we have to be close to where Loopy is . . . I mean was . . . six years ago.
So I guess it’s balloon time, my good people!”
We finished throwing on all the warm clothes we could find, then told Mom and Dad that we wanted to be like real New York City residents and see the Macy’s parade live.
“You want to go in this weather?” Mom reached for my scarf and pulled it tight.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Dad said. “It fits with your goal to experience New York City. And why not experience it in the bitter cold! Just make sure you all stay together so nobody gets lost.”
“Will do, Dad!” I practically flew out the door. Doug and Zoe followed. Michael Tolley was waiting at the bottom of our brownstone steps.
“Oh, hey, Michael.” Zoe pulled her pink beanie down over her ears. “I hope you don’t mind if Doug and Arcade tag along. They want to see the parade too. Is that okay?”
Michael grinned. “Sure! Let’s go. It will be interesting to see if any of the balloons fly away in this wind!”
When we reached the corner of Central Park West and 86th, we met up with Scratchy, Carlos, and Reagan Cooper.
“Happy Thanksgiving, friends!” Scratchy said. “Do you love the cold or what? I go from getting sunburned to windburned to frostbitten. Gotta love New York!”
“Zoe got a new Picture Post from @LoopDogNYC! He’s over by the parade balloons!” In this mix of company, I couldn’t mention that he’s there six years ago.
“RADICAL!” Scratchy yelled. “Let’s go get him. That would make this a great Thanksgiving.”
“Who’s Loopy?” Reagan asked.
“Who’s Loopy?” Doug said.
“He’s my dog, and he’s been missing for about two months.” I showed Reagan the picture of Loopy that I kept folded up in my pocket.
When she saw it, she got a huge grin on her face. “Hey! I had a dog just like him when I was little.”
“You did? Really?”
“Well, I only had him for a short time. I found him out wandering on the street one day, with a silly camera on his head.”
WHAT!?!
“I looked for the owners, but no luck. My parents let me keep him. He was so fun. Slobbery though. And really crazy.” Reagan laughed. “I should have named him Loopy.”
Zoe stepped closer to Reagan. “What happened to that dog?”
Reagan sighed. “Well, like I said, he was a little crazy. I liked to put that camera on him and go for walks to see what videos and pictures we could get. He got away from me a couple of times, and was gone for a day or two, but he always came back. Until the day before Thanksgiving. I was going to take him for a walk that night with my parents to see the balloon inflation, but before I could get the leash on him, he took off. I never saw him again.”
That’s it! The reason she never saw him again is because I got him back! Today’s the day!
“Brrrr! We gotta move.” Scratchy pulled the hood of his coat up over his head. “Let’s go watch some balloon action!”
We continued down Central Park West and ran into a huge crowd.
“We’ll never get close to the balloons now with the parade about to start,” Zoe whispered to me. “We need a better plan.”
“Or another Picture Post,” I said. “Come on, Loopy.”
Zoe took her phone out of her coat pocket and held it in her gloved hand so she wouldn’t miss any new notifications. Michael stayed by her side as we made our way through the crowds to find a good viewing place. Then, he grabbed her hand. “I know just the place. Come on, guys!”
We weaved and bobbed through many spectators. By the time we got to 66th, we were jammed in. No movement at all.
“Let me get in front of you,” Carlos said. “Stay close behind me. I’m about to part the Red Sea!”
We scrunched in close. As Carlos wheeled forward, people moved out of the way. Several even smiled and waved. “Hey, Carlos! Nice to see ya! Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Dude, you got a lot of fans around here,” I said.
Carlos nodded. “Yeah, I was a bit of a celebrity after my accident. Not the way anyone wants to become famous, but it is what it is.”
We followed Carlos’s path all the way down to Columbus Circle, where we met up with our pedicab friend, Elijah!
“Hello, friends! Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Hey, Elijah! Are you getting much business today?”
Elijah shook his head. “Today is not a working day for me. Today, I give thanks for all of God’s blessings.”
“Would you like to watch the parade with us?” I asked.
“I would love to.”
Carlos managed to clear a path for us to stand, looking out toward Columbus Circle. Twenty minutes later, the parade began. Everyone else in the giant crowd had their eyes fixed upward, on the massive balloons, but mine scanned back and forth between Zoe’s phone screen and the street—anywhere that a little fluffy dog might roam.
And then it happened. A huge gust of wind brought gasps from the crowd, and the kids holding the Pillsbury Doughboy balloon were pulled violently toward Columbus Circle. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fluttered down from the trees. As they dropped on our heads, they turned to glitter bombs.
The cold breeze cut through all my layers and turned me to ice. All except the area above my heart, which now produced a steady burn. I reached for Zoe.
“Anything on Picture Post?”
She checked. “Yeah. One just came in.”
“THAT’S DOPE! Show me where he is!”
The token burned hot as I checked out Zoe’s phone. It was a picture of Loopy, all right, and he was sitting in a sleigh, with Santa Claus!
Zoe put her gloved hand up to cover to her mouth. “Santa’s at the end of the parade. We’ll never get there through this crowd.”
“We’ll do the best we can. Hopefully the elevator will do the rest.” I grabbed Doug by the elbow, and as the rest of the group was distracted by the Doughboy balloon, I pulled him toward the back of the crowd. Zoe followed.
“Hey! The SpongeBob balloon is coming! I don’t wanna miss—”
“Doug, we have to go. The token is smokin’!” I dug through my scarf, coat, and two shirts to pull it out.
“The token is smokin’?”
“YES! That’s what I said!”
“Okay, then, SpongeBob will have to wait.”
I turned and ran back into Central Park, leaving most of the crowd behind.
Come on, doors, where are you? Santa’s coming . . .
We ran north as fast as we could. Clouds formed in front of us and showered down gold glitter, leaving a trail to follow.
Come on, tester, you know the way.
We ran for a few more minutes, up over the Bow Bridge, to the sign that said we were entering the Ramble. The clouds dumped large flakes of glitter that solidified and formed doors, with a pulsing golden coin slot pushing out from the middle.
“Don’t blow this, Arcade,” Zoe said.
“Be specific,” Doug clasped his hands like he was praying.
“Yeah,” Zoe added. “Don’t forget . . . six years ago . . . Thanksgiving . . . Santa Claus . . . and make us the same age as we are now.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s not as complicated as that, Zoe.”
The token sparked and flamed and crackled. So did the coin slot.
“ARCADE! It is complicated! This is no time to get crazy with your thinking . . .”
I nodded and held the token between my burning gloves. “You’re right. It’s time to think . . . like Arcade Livingston.”
I opened my hands and inspected the glowing Triple T Token. I smiled, flipped it up in the air, and said four words.
“Take me to Loopy.”
* * *
“Ho, Ho, Ho!”
A man with a white beard wearing a red coat sits next to me on a sleigh, riding on a float above the crowd in New York City. And a little chocolate-colored shih-poo, wearing a head cam, sits on his lap licking his beard.
“LOOP! I FOUND YOU!”
Woof! Woof!
&nb
sp; Loopy leaps onto my lap and snuggles up to my neck. His tail is wagging so hard it whips up and knocks my glasses crooked.
Oh, Loop.
Tears stream down my face while sweat seeps down my back.
Why is it so hot? The token isn’t hanging around my neck right now.
“Wave to the crowd, Arcade.” Zoe and Doug are sitting in front of me in the sleigh. They have peeled off their scarfs, coats, and mittens. It’s a beautiful, sunny, not windy, and definitely-not-boring, Thanksgiving Day . . . six years ago.
“Hey, Santa!” Doug cranes his neck to talk to the jolly old guy. “You think you could give me a brother named Arcade for Christmas?”
Santa chuckles. “Ho, ho, ho! What kind of name is Arcade?” He gives me a little wink and a nod. “I’ll work on it, but it sounds like you need a Manhattan Miracle.”
As soon as he says that, white stuff begins to fall.
“What in the . . . it’s too hot for snow,” Zoe says, shaking her head.
“That’s not snow, Zoe,” I answer. “That’s white glitter.”
* * *
The doors delivered us back to the Ramble, and we had to apologize to our friends for the sneaky departure.
WE FOUND LOOPY, I texted to Scratchy.
RADICAL!!! he texted back. HAPPY THANKSGIVING, ARCADE.
“I hope Michael Tolley forgives you for ditching him again,” I said, and I bumped Zoe as we walked through the Ramble paths back to 88th Street.
She grinned. “I have a feeling he will.”
I put my finger inside my mouth and pretended to gag.
Zoe reached over to pet Loopy. “You crazy dog! Do you know that you have 2,500 followers on Picture Post?”
Loopy just stared at Zoe, unimpressed. Then he turned and sneezed in my face!
“Aw, COME ON, man! What are you doin’?”
He’s just being Loopy. The best dog in the world.
* * *
My mom and dad were thrilled to see Loopy too. Mom ran to the door as soon as we came in. “Oh, you sweet little dog. We missed you so much. And what a great day to return!” She grabbed Loopy out of my arms and gave him a long snuggle.
Arcade and the Fiery Metal Tester Page 16
