Noah Green Saves the World

by Laura Toffler-Corrie

  Mike’s phone rings. “Yeah, yeah,” he says into the receiver.

  It’s their contact!

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Mike’s head bobs up and down.

  “What?” Jake asks.

  Mike holds his finger in the air, listens some more, and nods. “Yeah, got it, yeah,” he says into the phone.

  If only I could get closer to hear.

  “What’s he sayin’?” Jake asks.

  Covering the receiver, Mike is like, “He says he knows where the valuable thing is. He says it took a long time, but now he’s sure because he found the geonumeric coordinates.”

  Coordinates! I perk up.

  “What’s that?” Jake screws up his face.

  “22, 44, 53,” Mike answers.

  “No, I mean, what are geo-whatever coordinates?”

  “Um . . .” Mike furrows his brow.

  “I’m confused,” Jake says.

  Finally, Mike is like, “Wait,” as he holds his finger in front of Jake. “He’s sending a map of the area.”

  A map of the area!

  I watch them huddle around Mike’s phone. Until someone taps my shoulder from behind. I jump.

  “Sorry,” Mia whispers. “Crystal from Bunk 12 asked me to sing for her Instagram. She has, like, a thousand followers. She also wants me to move into her bunk. Alice had to leave because she’s allergic to macramé hemp. Then I couldn’t find you. And I didn’t want to use a flash—”

  “Shhh!” I gesture toward the Rotts.

  “Why didn’t he tell us this before?” Jake says.

  “He just got the intel,” Mike answers. They’ve collected their stuff and are on the move. “Offa some old guys.”

  Mia’s eyes and mine snap together.

  Old guys!

  “He says they’re really cranky,” Mike says.

  “My grandpa gets cranky in Costco,” Jake replies. “Loses it just when the cart is full and they’re in the checkout line. Drives my mom ballistic.”

  “The boss says he had to restrain them,” Mike says, barely audible now, as they head further into the brush. “Ya know, tie them up.”

  “Cool . . .” Jake’s voice trails off.

  Tie them up?!

  Mia and I crouch-run through the brush after them. It’s not easy because it’s dark and the brush is scratchy and my entire legs are throbbing now. I’m super glad I sprayed myself with Bug Off, at least.

  “Where’s everyone else?” Mia whispers.

  I shrug. I must look sad because Mia frowns and places her hand on my shoulder.

  “’S’all right,” she says.

  And even though I’m disappointed about my mates and the world and stuff, it feels really good to have Mia with me.

  Using the bright moonlight and low phone light, we make our way to the next clearing, near a small rundown shack. I don’t know where I am now, but I hear some road traffic not far off in the distance.

  Mike and Jake resume digging right next to a thick weeping willow tree.

  And that’s when a familiar voice rings out.

  “Don’t push! Dagnabbit!”

  Pops stumbles out from behind the trees, looking small and angular, his hands fastened behind his back.

  “Yeah, you better not untie my hands,” George warns, shuffling behind, his glasses sliding down his nose. “’Cause if they weren’t tied, I’d slap you silly.”

  Someone else glides behind them, wearing a long green trench coat and a hat pulled low over his head. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets.

  “That must be the big boss,” I whisper to Mia, craning my neck to see.

  “Stay down,” she whispers back. “We can’t just rush in. We need a plan.”

  “We need mates,” I say.

  “We’re war veterans!” George bellows. “We’re used to torture.”

  “And I was a secret agent,” Pops growls. “Liplock Field. I’m not telling anyone anything.”

  Trench Coat Guy moves past them as if he doesn’t see anyone.

  The thud of a shovel hits something hard. Dropping to his knees, Mike digs in the dirt with his hands.

  “I think—yeah—this must be it!” Mike grunts, tugging a large piece of pottery from the earth.

  “Hey, careful!” Jake offers a hand to help him.

  Pops and George struggle against their restraints.

  “You break it, you buy it!” Pops erupts.

  Ignoring him, Trench Coat Guy steps around Jake. He crouches beside the hole and carefully tugs the clay slab from the ground. Cradling it in one hand, he gingerly dusts the dirt from it with the other. His hat slips back.

  “It’s Yipsy!” Mia says a little too loudly.

  “Who’s there?” Yipsy’s head snaps around.

  “Hey, it’s Turtle!” Mike exclaims, wading into the bushes and grabbing my arm.

  “Get his girlfriend too!” Jake yells.

  I struggle against him. “Leave my girlfriend alone—er, you are my girlfriend, right?”

  “Not now, Noah,” Mia says, stumbling forward.

  “Run, Ned!” Pops shrieks.

  “What are you two doing here?” Yipsy asks.

  “The question is, what are you doing here?” I demand.

  “Probably the same thing you are,” Yipsy says.

  “I doubt that,” I snap. “We’re here to save the world, and you’re here to steal!”

  “No, little dude,” Yipsy says. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “I told you kids, you can’t trust hippies!” Pops announces.

  Just then we hear a loud snap and the crunching of twigs and branches, not to mention a lot of grunting and swearing.

  Josh and Tyler burst from the woods, panting. Gauze bandages in pops of bright white hang loosely around their arms. They look like badly wrapped Halloween mummies.

  “Where were you?” I exclaim. “What happened?”

  “Um . . . we had a little accident with the fire pit lighter fluid,” Josh says.

  “Scorched the hair off our arms,” Tyler interjects. “And singed Josh’s eyebrows.”

  “See?” Josh gestures to his bare forehead.

  Mike and Jake exchange telepathic Neanderthal glances and march forward in unison. One grabs Josh while the other grabs Tyler.

  “Hey!” Josh exclaims. “Hands off!”

  The Rottweilers push Josh and Tyler over to us. We’re all standing in front of the large, dark hole—the thing that held the thing that’s going to save the world.

  “What’s he got?” Josh asks, gesturing toward Yipsy.

  “The tablet,” George grumbles.

  “Is that really it?” Tyler asks, sliding forward. “It’s pretty cool.”

  “I know, right?” Mike says. “It’s heavy, too.”

  “It looks heavy.” Tyler nods. “Can I touch it?”

  Mike shrugs. “I guess.”

  Tyler extends his fingers and gently touches the clay. “Grainy,” he says.

  “This is totally a teaching moment!” Yipsy smiles. “Gather around and touch it. Don’t worry, it doesn’t bite.”

  “What in tarnation are you hippies doing?!” Pops explodes. “Give me that tablet!”

  Our eyes slide to Pops’s bound hands.

  “Untie me and give me that tablet! We have to get it to Washington! To the president!”

  We all exchange skeptical glances.

  “Well, maybe not him,” Pops grumbles. “But somebody in Washington!”

  “Somebody who’s not gonna steal the tablet for profit,” George adds. “Like you!”

  “Me?” Yipsy slaps his hand to his chest in disbelief.

  And suddenly, as if just noticing Pops and George are tied up, he rushes to untie them. “Who did this?” he shouts furiously.

  “We need to go to Atlantic City!” Pops says.

  George leans in to Pops’s ear. “Washington.”

  “That’s what I meant,” Pops grumbles.

  “So you’re not the bad guy?” Georg
e narrows his eyes at Yipsy.

  “Bad guy? No,” Yipsy says. “Of course not. I’m just trying to instill values in these kids: teach them, nurture them, encourage them to find themselves—at least until mid-August.”

  “Do you even know what you got there, son?” George asks.

  “Of course I do. It’s a valuable historical artifact, which these bananas,” Yipsy says scoldingly, gesturing to Mike and Jake, “have been stealing and selling online.”

  “We’re just ‘Showing Our Stuff,’ ” Mike sneers, making quotation marks in the air and elbowing Jake. “Get it?”

  “No,” Jake says flatly.

  “What you’re showing,” Yipsy says to the Rottweilers, getting all red-in-the-face annoyed, “is that you need a few good lessons in the bad karma of stealing.”

  “You tell ’em, Yipsy!” Mia urges.

  While Yipsy yaks on about karma and life lessons, Pops sneaks around him and gently extracts the tablet from his hands.

  “Well, we’ll just be moseying along now.” He turns and nods to everyone. “Nice to see you, Hippie. Trolls, Oaf-y boys, Girl . . . Come on, Ned.”

  He’s about to shuffle away when Mike is like, “Stop right there, old guy. You ain’t going anywhere.”

  “And who in tarnation is gonna stop me?” Pops exclaims.

  Mike steps into Pops’s path.

  “Hey, back off!” Josh shouts.

  Mike glowers at Josh and slams his shovel hard into the ground. Jake holds his shovel across his chest like a weapon.

  “Um . . . please,” Josh says as he and Tyler retreat.

  “Wait one minute,” Yipsy says. “What is so bleepin’ important about that particular clay tablet? Excuse my language.”

  “You should know,” Pops says. “You’re the one tryin’ to steal it.”

  “Didn’t you just hear a word I said?” Yipsy answers, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

  This whole thing has gone wonky! It’s time for me to start saving the world.

  And I’m ready. My stomach doesn’t even hurt, and I feel pretty pumped up about it.

  “Yipsy,” I say in my most commanding voice, “this tablet was transcribed by World War II Navajo code talkers. It’s encoded with the coordinates to save us from a rogue asteroid named Agatha that is going destroy the earth in exactly”—I check the time on my phone—“sometime soon. And it’s up to us to get it to Washington so we can save the world.”

  “Say what now?” Yipsy looks confused.

  “So,” I conclude, taking the tablet from Pops, “we gotta get out of here.”

  At that moment, a large, dark figure steps out from behind the black, shadowy trees.

  “Stop right there! No one is getting out of here.”

  Chapter 27

  “Who’s that?” Josh asks, squinting into the darkness.

  “Is it . . . ?” I cautiously slide closer.

  “What’s going on?” Yipsy asks.

  “That’s the big hairy guy who tied us up!” Pops exclaims.

  From out of the gloom steps the imposing figure of Nurse Leibowitz.

  “Hey, that’s no guy!” George grumbles.

  She’s wearing one of her usual velour track outfits, this one in green, along with her medical fanny pack belted on her ample hips like a holster from the OK Corral. From behind her back, she pulls out a big red fire extinguisher and points it right at us!

  “Um, whatcha doin’, Nurse Leibowitz?” I ask.

  “Shut up!” she roars, swinging the hose at me, spritzing white gunk onto the ground at my feet.

  “Hey!” I shout, jumping backward.

  “Get back!” she yells, narrowing her eyes, moving toward us, slowly swinging the nozzle from one of us to the next.

  “Nurse Leibowitz,” Yipsy says, “what’s going on? Who’s watching the kids? Where’s the fire?”

  “I’m coming after you, you outdated weirdo,” Nurse Leibowitz snarls. “I came for the tablet. The kids are writing family emails and are engaged in constructive social-media-free time, and there’s no fire, you nitwit! So give me that tablet,” she orders, lunging toward me.

  “Um . . . no?” I say.

  “Atta boy, Ned!” Pops pumps his fist in the air.

  “Listen, Myrna,” Yipsy says gently. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this kooky, menacing behavior—this isn’t you. Is it, kids?”

  There’s a beat of silence.

  “Kids?” Yipsy sings, popping his eyes wide and wiggling his eyebrows at us.

  “No,” “Totally not,” “Of course not,” “Pfffft,” “Not at all,” we overlap each other.

  “Well, it kind of is . . .” Josh mumbles, and Tyler jabs him in the ribs.

  Yipsy moves slowly toward Nurse Leibowitz, his arms outstretched like he’s a dad who wants his turn to cuddle the baby fire extinguisher.

  “Now, Myrna,” he coos. “All this nonsense . . . it’s just the fire pit charcoal’s carbon monoxide fumes talking. You know what you need? A good old-fashioned wheatgrass cleanse, a relaxing nap in the hemp hammock, maybe some therapy . . .”

  I hold my breath. Yipsy’s fingers are just about to make contact with the cylinder when—

  “I. Said. Don’t!” Nurse Leibowitz explodes, hitting him with a full spray of fire extinguisher gunk until he’s covered from head to toe in what looks like a layer of white marshmallow.

  “Uhhgghhllllll!!” Yipsy garbles, wiping his eyes, spitting, and trying to shake the stuff off.

  And we’re all like, “Gross!” “Disgusting!” “Jeez!” “Gag.” “It’s like white snot!”

  Nurse Leibowitz leaps at me and snatches the tablet from my hands.

  “Hey!” I try to grab it back, but she threatens me with the hose.

  “Who’s this loony bird?” Pops asks.

  “That’s the camp nurse,” Tyler says.

  “That’s no nurse,” Pops says. “She must be a secret agent.”

  “You’re right about that, old man.” Nurse Leibowitz throws back her head and cackles. “I am a secret agent.”

  “Who do you work for?” George asks.

  “It’s a secret!”

  George and Pops nod conspiratorially.

  “Oh my God,” Josh says. “They’re, like, bonding or something.”

  “Grab her, Mike! Jake!” Yipsy yells.

  But she aims the nozzle at them, and they back up.

  “This is getting too weird,” Mike says. “A good boss always knows when it’s time to let his subordinates take the fall. I’m outta here.”

  “Me too,” Jake says.

  “No!” Myrna yells. “No witnesses.”

  “I don’t understand,” Josh whispers. “She can’t take us all. And that white stuff isn’t toxic.”

  “Excuse me, but it totally is,” Mia says. “It murders the ozone.”

  Josh rolls his eyes. “And we included her why?”

  Mike and Jake catch each other’s eyes and sprint for the trees.

  “Come back! Come back!” Nurse Leibowitz yells, pointing the fire extinguisher at them. “No witnesses!”

  Mike stops abruptly and swivels around. “We won’t rat you out,” Mike says.

  Jake nods. “We can’t.”

  “And may I ask why not?” Nurse Leibowitz puts her hand on her hip.

  “Because, hello.” Mike holds up his shovel and burlap sack. “Stealing.”

  “Oh. Right,” she says. “Then you can go.”

  Mike and Jake bolt faster than I thought they could move.

  “What do you want with the tablet, Nurse Leibowitz?” I ask. “Are you trying to save the world?”

  “Save the world?” She cocks her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tikun olam! Repairing the world? Doing a mitzvah? Bringing light into the spiritual realm? Ari the Lion?” I rattle off sharply.

  At that moment, we hear the cracking of branches coming from behind Nurse Leibowitz. A voice says, “You didn’t have to scare me to death, sneakin
g up on me in Noah’s cabin.”

  And a second voice: “I wasn’t sneaking.”

  The first voice again: “This muck will totally ruin my new sneakers!”

  The second voice, sounding irritated: “Do stop complaining, won’t you?”

  I’d know that American whining and that British scolding anywhere. It’s Lily and Simon!

  Nurse Leibowitz’s head snaps toward the voices. It’s time for me to distract her.

  “Nurse Leibowitz!” I yell. “I think I have poison ivy!”

  She spins around, her nurse autopilot kicking in. “Well, don’t scratch it!” she commands, rummaging through her black bag. “You’ll just make it worse. We need Neosporin and a compress and—”

  “What are you guys doing here?” Simon asks, stepping out from the trees, looking perplexed. “We had a devil of a time finding you. Noah, I owe you an apology, mate, and—”

  “Grab Nurse Leibowitz! She’s the bad guy!” I yell.

  Nurse Leibowitz spins and kicks Simon in the side. “HIYAH!”

  “OOF!” Simon exhales. “What the—that hurt!” he yells, as she windmills toward him.

  “Hey!” Lily shouts and shoves Nurse Leibowitz hard, sending her stumbling back.

  Nurse Leibowitz sets her laser eyes on Lily and lunges for her. Simon jumps in front of Lily while bobbing and ducking blows from Nurse Leibowitz’s windmill arms.

  “She’s totally out of control!” Simon yells.

  “You got that right, hippie!” Pops shouts, as he and George shadowbox the air.

  Simon manages to grab Nurse Leibowitz from behind and wrestle her to the ground. I grab the fire extinguisher. Nurse Leibowitz struggles, screams, and kicks.

  “A little help here,” Simon pants, struggling desperately to hold on to her.

  “She’s doing Krav Maga!” Pops shouts.

  Nurse Leibowitz throws Simon off and leaps to her feet.

  “HIYAH!” she howls while slicing her hands through the air.

  Yipsy jumps into the fray and throws his arms around her shoulders, but she slips from his grasp and shoves him hard against a tree.

  “My leg!” he shouts.

  I’m sliding around trying to get a variety of angles on film. Talk about good footage!