by Max Brallier
Happiness!
Mr. Mews, Annie, and Annie’s entire family gathered at the Mews mansion. Annie’s mom couldn’t stop hugging and kissing her. Her father looked on with a huge, proud smile.
“Now what?” Annie asked.
Mews was leaning against the cage. Inside, Bigfoot was sitting on his big hairy butt and eating bananas. “I had hoped to buy up all the land around Bigfoot’s natural habitat and turn it into a reserve,” Mews said. “A place where he could live safely, in peace.”
“That sounds like a great plan!” Annie said.
Mews frowned. “Unfortunately, I spent all my money on this contest! Once I pay you, I’ll be broke!”
Annie’s heart sank. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to be the reason Bigfoot was forced to return to the mine shaft or got stuck living in a cage. But she had entered the contest to save her family’s business—and she had won!
Then Annie had a lightbulb of an idea!
“I’ll tell you what,” Annie said. “You keep the money and build the habitat. But you hire me to look after it! My parents can open a new restaurant nearby, and I can continue working with you to find other cryptids and keep them safe from Grimlock!”
Mews scratched his head. “Hmm. Not a bad idea . . .”
Annie looked at her mom and dad. They both smiled and nodded.
“Great!” Annie said. “So . . . what cryptid are we going to find next?”
Salerno
NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED . . . NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED . . . NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED
The words flashed brightly across the computer monitor, but Commander Rachel Salerno was too busy to notice. Instead, she sat hunched over her workstation, poring over the mountain of notes, maps, and drawings that littered her desk.
“Where are you, Number Four?” she mumbled to herself. As the only astronaut remaining on the moon, she talked to herself a lot these days. True, the lunar facility felt quiet and lonely without the chatter of the other astronauts who had once lived and worked with Salerno, but at least there weren’t any distractions now, especially when she was so close to finding what she was looking for.
“I know you’re out there,” she said, her brow furrowed. Suddenly, she noticed something in one of the pictures, a detail she’d missed until now. Barely able to contain her excitement, she grabbed a page of notes from the pile of papers. Looking back and forth between her notes and the picture, she let out a gasp.
“Of course! If my calculations are correct, then Number Four must be located in the Northeast Sector! But where?” she asked, her voice echoing down the empty hall of the barracks.
As she pondered this question, she sat back in her chair and, for the first time, noticed the blinking words on the computer monitor. With a click of the mouse, she retrieved the message from her inbox. As she read, her sparkling eyes grew dark.
COMMANDER SALERNO, AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU HAVE DISOBEYED MY ORDERS. YOUR INSISTENCE ON IGNORING YOUR DUTIES AND CONTINUING THIS SILLY QUEST OF YOURS IS SIMPLY UNACCEPTABLE. AS I’VE SAID BEFORE, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE SEARCHING FOR LITTLE GREEN MEN. I AM SENDING SOMEONE TO RELIEVE YOU AND BRING YOU BACK TO EARTH. YOU ARE ADVISED TO GATHER YOUR BELONGINGS AND PREPARE FOR YOUR RETURN HOME.
–ROGER MCNABB, DIRECTOR OF THE POPTROPICA ACADEMY OF SPACE EXPLORATION
“So, McNabb’s sending someone to get me, is he? I’m on a ‘silly quest,’ am I?” Salerno put her face in her hands, feeling much like a cornered animal. For a moment she sat still, weighing her few options. At last she sat up straight and looked defiantly at the message on the computer screen, as though she was looking at McNabb himself. “No, McNabb, you can’t stop me now, not when I’m so close to finding Number Four!”
And with this, she left her workstation and began making preparations for her escape.
Father and Son
Back on Earth, Glen Johns struggled to keep up with his father as they walked across the parking lot toward Cape Carpenter. Mr. Johns could barely keep himself from sprinting to the space center’s entrance.
“Gosh, this is exciting, isn’t it, Glen?” said Mr. Johns, who was huffing and puffing from the brisk pace. “To think that we’re here to see the very last space launch is just amazing!”
Glen didn’t say anything. He was tired from the long car ride and feeling a little cranky. Plus, he hadn’t really wanted to come to Cape Carpenter in the first place.
“It’s not every day you get to be a part of—”
“History. I know, Dad,” said Glen. “You already said that, like, ten times in the car.”
Mr. Johns chuckled. “Well, it’s true. They’re shutting down the space program after this launch.” After a pause he added quietly, “It’s sad, really, but at least we’re here to say good-bye.”
Glen heard his father but, again, didn’t reply. Instead, he eyed the rocket off in the distance. It looked very small sitting on its launchpad hundreds of yards away. But Glen knew that it was enormous. The first time he and his dad came to watch a launch, he was only four years old. The rocket was the biggest, most exciting thing Glen had ever seen. “Faster, Daddy,” Glen had said as they raced across the parking lot, holding hands.
But Glen was thirteen years old now. He no longer needed to hold his father’s hand, and he didn’t really care about rockets or space travel anymore. Like dinosaurs and superheroes, space was just something he’d outgrown over the years. As he walked, he looked at the excitement on his father’s face and wondered how a grown-up could care so much about something so silly.
“Yeah,” said Mr. Johns, “it’s hard to believe that there will be no more space launches after today. What a shame.”
“Dad, if you think the space program is so important, why are they shutting it down?” Glen asked.
The question stung Mr. Johns a bit. He knew that his son was no longer a little boy and that he’d become interested in other things. Still, hearing Glen say “if you think it’s so important” made him a little sad. He remembered the days when they both thought that space travel was important and looked forward to their special days together at Cape Carpenter. Inside, Mr. Johns had hoped for just one more of those special days.
“Well,” replied Mr. Johns, “I guess most people don’t care about space travel the way they used to. And since the people aren’t interested anymore, the government decided to spend its money on other things.”
“Well, maybe the people are right,” Glen said. “I mean, what’s the point of going into space?”
“To explore!” Mr. Johns replied. “Think back to the days of Christopher Columbus and the other great explorers. What they all had in common was the desire to know what’s out there, to discover their world.”
Glen frowned and said, “I don’t know, Dad, it seems like we’ve pretty much discovered all there is to find.”
Mr. Johns smiled, thinking back to the days when Glen would stay up way past his bedtime, asking question after question about the moon, the stars, and the planets of the galaxy. Back then, the boy was filled with so much wonder, so much curiosity. At last, Mr. Johns said, “Son, the universe is a mighty big place. It seems to me that it’d be a shame if we ever stopped exploring it.”
Glen resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help himself from muttering, “Space travel might have been cool, like, a million years ago, but maybe it’s time to accept that things have changed.”
Yes, they certainly have, Mr. Johns thought. And it doesn’t look like they’ll ever be the way they were.
Father and son walked the rest of the way in silence, until they reached the entrance to Cape Carpenter.
Cape Carpenter
“Where is everyone?” said Mr. Johns in astonishment as he passed through the gates to Cape Carpenter’s outdoor promenade. In years past, it would have been filled with hundreds, even thousands, of space enthusiasts on launch days. Today, though, there was only a small group of people milling about. The crowd was so small, in fact, that Mr. Johns wondered if
he had the day of the launch wrong. He approached a man handing out brochures, assuming he’d have some answers.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Mr. Johns, “today is the day of the launch, isn’t it?”
“Indeed, it is,” replied the man. “And once they wrap up this last little mission, construction will begin on Cosmic Condos.”
“Cosmic Condos?”
“That’s right,” said the man. “All these buildings you see here will be torn down, and in their place will be the most luxurious, most modern apartment buildings you’ve ever seen. Here, why don’t you take one of these brochures and consider purchasing—”
“No, thanks,” said Mr. Johns. “We’re just here to watch the launch.” As he and Glen walked on, he said, “I can’t believe they’re replacing all this with condos! It’s bad enough that the space program is closing down, but this is a historical landmark. Do they really have to take that away, too?”
Glen was tempted to repeat what he’d already said about changing times, but he saw that his dad was a little shaken and decided to keep quiet.
“Well,” Mr. Johns said with a weak laugh, “at least we’re here on the right day.” Then he saw something that seemed to brighten his spirits. “Glen, look! It’s Captain Gordon!”
Sitting at a small table behind a sign that said MEET A REAL ASTRONAUT was a silver-haired man of about eighty years. He was there to sign autographs, but since no one was in line, he killed time with a crossword puzzle.
“Captain Gordon?” Glen asked. “Who’s that?”
“Don’t you remember?” Mr. Johns replied. “Deke Gordon was once one of the biggest names in space exploration, a real hero! Why, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t know the first thing about how weightlessness affects hamster behavior! Come on, let’s go meet him.”
Glen didn’t recognize the name, but he followed his father, who was already approaching the man.
“Captain Gordon, this sure is a treat,” Mr. Johns said to the retired astronaut.
“Well!” replied Gordon, putting down his puzzle. “It’s nice to be remembered by someone. You’re the first person to actually recognize me. The only other person I talked to just stopped by to ask me if Cape Carpenter still sells those rocket-shaped ice pops.”
“Are you kidding?” Mr. Johns said, his hands shaking with excitement. “I idolized you as a kid. I had a poster in my bedroom of you walking on the moon!”
“Yes, those were some great days,” Captain Gordon said with a laugh. “But they happened long, long ago, I’m afraid.” Pointing at a picture on the table, he added, “It’s hard to believe that this man and I are the same person.” Glen and Mr. Johns looked at the picture, which showed a much younger Captain Gordon riding on the back of a convertible, as thousands of parade-goers cheered him on.
“I remember that,” Mr. Johns said. “That was right after you returned from building the first lunar facility on the moon!”
“You have a good memory,” Captain Gordon said, smiling. “Yes, back in those days, people couldn’t get enough of space exploration. We astronauts were like rock stars!” Then, his smile fading, he added, “But as you can see, things have changed.”
Glen had been listening quietly, but he understood what Captain Gordon meant. Hardly anyone had come to watch the launch, and no one cared about meeting some retired astronaut.
“Captain Gordon,” said Mr. Johns, looking to brighten the mood, “this is my son, Glen. He and I have been to half a dozen space launches.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Glen,” said Captain Gordon. “I’m happy to see that there are some young people who still have an interest in space exploration.”
Glen’s face reddened. He didn’t have the heart to tell Captain Gordon that he wasn’t really interested in space anymore, or that he would rather be at home watching television. Instead, he just shook the astronaut’s hand.
“Glen,” Mr. Johns said, “do you have any questions you’d like to ask Captain Gordon?”
The boy blushed even more. “Uh,” he said, looking down at his feet. “Do they still sell those rocket-shaped ice pops here?”
Captain Gordon raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Ha-ha,” Mr. Johns laughed. “He’s just joking. Captain Gordon, thanks so much for your time. Meeting you was a thrill!”
“The pleasure was mine,” the astronaut replied. “I hope your last visit to Cape Carpenter is memorable. Enjoy the launch.”
“Ice pops?” Mr. Johns said under his breath as he and Glen moved on. “That’s the only thing you could think to ask?”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Glen said, feeling irritated. “I didn’t know I was supposed to have a list of prepared questions.”
Mr. Johns paused and collected himself. “Yeah, Glen,” he said, “you’re right. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Hey, we still have about an hour before the launch. How about we grab something to eat and then hit the gift shop?”
Glen wasn’t angry anymore, but he felt like he could use a break from his dad. “Uh, if you don’t mind, I’d kind of like to walk around on my own for a while.”
“Oh,” Mr. Johns said, feeling like his plans for a perfect day were going south. “But I thought we were going to hang out together today.”
“We have been together, Dad,” Glen said. “We spent the car ride together, we’ll watch the launch together, and we’ll drive home together. But I’m thirteen years old; I’m not a little kid anymore. I just want to be by myself for a little while.”
“Um, I guess that’s okay,” Mr. Johns said a little reluctantly. He’d noticed that Glen reminded him that he was thirteen a lot these days. “Here,” he said, handing Glen a few dollars, “take this and let’s meet up in the spectator stands in an hour.”
“Okay, thanks, Dad,” Glen said, taking the money. He began walking away but didn’t get very far before he heard his father’s voice.
“Glen,” Mr. Johns called, “be careful!”
Glen didn’t turn to acknowledge that he’d heard his dad. He just walked on, rolling his eyes. Sheesh, he thought, it’s just an hour. It’s not as though I’m going to the moon.
