Headache

by Crystal Marcos

  Papa spoke first. “I think that is a great idea. The only problem is how do we get to your house undetected? We don’t want anyone to know we are there.”

  Mr. Rupert winked and gave a crooked smile. “I already thought that through.”

  He told everyone to hurry up and gather anything they thought they would want to take with them to his house. Mrs. Young fetched Henry, who was still upstairs playing with Peter’s action figures. Thankfully, the heads were still attached. Henry had one in his hand when he came downstairs. Lina looked at Peter for approval and then grabbed a stack of Peter’s comic books for Henry. She was pretty sure Mr. Rupert didn’t have anything that Henry could play with and it was best to keep him occupied. Peter’s mother and Angela went to the kitchen and grabbed supplies to make sandwiches for lunch and a casserole for dinner. No one knew how long they would have to stay at Mr. Rupert’s. Rod took Joe and Peter’s dad to the garage to get some provisions. Peter wasn’t sure what kind of provisions they would be getting, but Rod seemed to know what was necessary for the situation. It probably had something to do with his military training. Peter felt like he should be gathering something too, but he had no idea what.

  So he asked Mr. Rupert, “Is there anything you think I should bring?”

  Mr. Rupert answered, “Well, I don’t know how long y’all be stayin’, but ya may want to grab some blankets in case ya have to stay the night.”

  Peter headed upstairs to get blankets when the TV came back on, with the pebbled fingers of the cameraman trying to focus on Goaltan. It was time to go. The idea was simple. Goaltan seemed to like being on TV and as Lina already said, he liked hearing himself talk. So it was only a matter of time until Goaltan made another appearance on TV. When he did, everyone in town would be glued to their television screens wondering what he had to say. The coast would be clear for them to make their way to Mr. Rupert’s house where he had already planned ahead and set up a video recorder to record his TV. They would be able to watch what Goaltan had to say once they made it safely to the house.

  F-I-S-H-E-R

  When Peter and the others reached Mr. Rupert’s house, they caught the tail end of Goaltan’s speech. The words rang in their ears, “Peter and Lina, I am coming for you!”

  Everyone stopped in the middle of whatever they were doing. Everyone, that is, except for Henry who was too busy checking out Mr. Rupert’s things. He was looking into a china cabinet full of angel sculptures.

  Mr. Rupert fidgeted with the video recorder and said, “Almost got this thing ready to roll. Make yourselves at home.” Peter knew he was just trying to be polite, but “make yourselves at home” seemed a strange choice of words for that moment. No one could really relax enough to feel that comfortable now.

  The video began playing. For a minute nothing happened. When Peter was about to suggest that Mr. Rupert fast forward, there was Goaltan in a close-up. The yellows of Goaltan’s eyes where the whites of his eyes should be were a bright contrast to his deep, dark, almost black irises. The hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood up.

  Goaltan spoke. “As you can imagine, I am not pleased! In fact, I am infuriated! You will not be making a fool out of me any further, Mr. P. I have someone here. I believe you know him.” The camera panned out and there was an African-American boy with a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes. He wasn’t looking at the camera. Goaltan turned the boy’s head toward the camera and flicked the baseball cap off his head in one smooth motion.

  “Curtis Wheeler!” Lina and Peter exclaimed. Curtis was a kid from their school.

  “Sorry, Peter and Lina. He made me tell or he was going to obliterate my mom’s Cupcakery,” Curtis said.

  “Oh, my young friend, about that. I still plan on obliterating it!” Goaltan chuckled deeply.

  “But you said if I told you who Peter and Lina were, you—”

  “Enough of the whining, boy!” Goaltan shouted. A short stocky Peblar took Curtis by the arm and led him out of camera range.

  The cameraman zoomed in for another close-up of Goaltan, who seemed very pleased with himself. “Peter Fischer and Lina Young, you have slipped out of my hands for the last time. No one makes a fool out of me, no one!” The cameraman panned to show the location of Goaltan and his Peblars. They were now outside of Curtis Wheeler’s mother’s shop, the Cupcakery. Goaltan, wearing a malicious grin, reached his hand offscreen and returned with an elegant-looking cupcake. Goaltan closed his massive pebbled hand, smashing the cupcake to smithereens. He laughed an evil laugh that lingered in the air and added, “Peter and Lina, I am coming for you!”

  Peter and Lina simultaneously gulped.

  Lina stood straight up and said, “He makes me so mad. What gives him the right?”

  Everyone agreed.

  Nana said, “I better get my eyes shut and get back to Honeyville, partly because it will make me more tranquil and partly because I have this nagging feeling it will help.”

  “Good idea, dear. Perhaps you can share with us out loud so we can all calm our nerves,” Papa said.

  Nana looked around the room. Everyone seemed to like the idea.

  “I will keep watch,” Rod said, moving toward the front window.

  “I’ll help,” Mr. Rupert said, positioning himself by a narrow window next to the front door.

  “We will rotate keeping watch. We don’t know if Goaltan knows where we live or how long it will take him to find out,” Peter’s dad said.

  “Curtis has never been to either of our houses so he couldn’t have told Goaltan our addresses,” Peter said.

  “Hopefully if he looks in the phone book, he will spell Fischer wrong. F-I-S-H-E-R is a common misspelling of our last name,” Peter’s dad said.

  “We aren’t listed in the phone book. I don’t like all the solicitations,” Rod said. Both statements gave everyone some relief.

  Nana picked up where she left off. She instantly brought them to a much more pleasant state. Henry’s mother told him to stop flicking Mr. Rupert’s mini-cactus plant and sit on the couch to listen to Nana’s story.

  Saving the Best for Last

  Nana was at the Honeyville Mall with her new Candonite friend, Alyssa. They had already been there for an hour and didn’t have too much longer before Alyssa’s mother was going to pick them up in their limousine hover car. Nana explained that Alyssa was from a very wealthy Candonite family. Alyssa’s mother and father were inventors. There was a history of inventors in her family, every generation having successful inventors on both sides. Alyssa’s mother and father were the most well-to-do because they were two geniuses who married one another. Alyssa was extremely disappointed because she believed she didn’t inherit the inventing gene.

  “It was as though the mall stores knew what a customer would be interested in purchasing,” Nana said, reminiscing. “I walked up to a pet store display window and saw the cutest little white chocolate bunnies hopping around. The other display window was empty. After I admired the little animals for a few seconds, mechanical hands appeared. They pointed at me and moved up and down the length of my body from the other side of the glass. When they were done, they held up a finger as if to say, ‘wait here.’ The mechanical hands disappeared into the pet store and brought back something to the empty display window. It contained the perfect pets for me if I were going to be leaving with a pet that day. It was a tank full of lollipop tropical fish and gummy guppies. I just adore fish. I told the mechanical hands, ‘Thank you, but I can’t take the fish home.’ Alyssa insisted there was another place we had to see before her mother picked us up, the toy store. Smack dab in the middle of the mall, Mr. Maxwell’s Toy Store was a large cylinder-shaped store three stories high. No one ever went to the mall without at least peeking in the windows.”

  “I want to go there,” Henry said, his mouth practically watering.

  “I haven’t even told you the best parts yet,” Nana giggled, opening her eyes.

  “Close those eyes back up. Let’s not forget o
ur original intentions for hearing your story,” Mrs. Fischer reminded everyone. From then on no one interrupted, except to announce when they were switching lookouts for Goaltan and the Peblars.

  Nana shut her eyes and returned to her storytelling. “It was unlike any toy store I had ever seen. The window constantly changed and displayed a different toy scene. Alyssa advised me to keep moving or the mechanical arm salesman would appear. Once inside, the first thing I noticed was that off to the left Candonite children were giggling as they got on pogo sticks and shot straight up to level two or three of the toy store, without using elevators or stairs. I heard laughter from the right side and saw three giant slides that intertwined around each other and stopped at each level of the store. Children were sliding down merrily to their floor destinations.” Nana’s body and hands helped the story along with movement as she told it.

  “I was overwhelmed and had no idea where to begin, but thankfully Alyssa had a plan to see the best things. First, she had to introduce me to her uncle, Mr. Maxwell, the toy store owner. Alyssa informed me that every time Mr. Maxwell had a shipment of a new toy, he could be found playing with it all afternoon. We found Mr. Maxwell in a big vat of rainbow foam, which covered him from head to toe. Mr. Maxwell called to us to give him a minute and he would be right out. As soon as he opened the vat door, the rainbow foam disintegrated. He explained that the foam was edible. Once someone was inside, the foam came out in any color or design they desired. His personal favorite was the Tie-dye Swirl. The machine also had an array of flavors. To keep the kids healthy, the foam was low calorie plus low fat. He adored the flavor Broccoli Splendor.”

  Yuck! Everyone except for Joe and Angela thought.

  “This isn’t helping at all, is it?” Nana suddenly said, exasperated.

  “It could lead to something, dear,” Papa said, trying to encourage her.

  “It soothes me, thinking of home,” Joe said.

  “I agree,” Angela said.

  “Besides, what else would we be doing right now if we weren’t listening to your charming story?” Mr. Rupert stated.

  Lina and Peter said simultaneously, “Tell us more.”

  Henry added politely, “Yes, please, I want to know more about the toy store!”

  Nana smiled. “If you insist. Mr. Maxwell was a kind, eccentric, brilliant purple gumball Candonite. He smelled luscious, identical to grape juice. Soon Mr. Maxwell said that he needed to go do some actual work. The ride up to the second floor on melon-colored pogo sticks was a hoot. The level was dark, lit up by children playing with all kinds of toys that anyone could imagine playing with in the dark. Candonites ran by playing laser tag which was a game I wouldn’t see again until years later in the 1980’s. There were glow-in-the-dark darts twirling and spinning creating dazzling designs as they flew toward a glow-in-the-dark-target. I thought it had to be somewhat dangerous, running around playing in the dark with so many others doing the same. Alyssa stepped out in front of oncoming riders on glowing unicycles. I clenched my fists expecting a collision. Instead, Alyssa was still standing untouched after what should have been a terrible crash. The riders were still on their unicycles and no one was hurt. It was amazing! Like some sort of protective, invisible wall surrounding everyone.”

  Peter noted that Nana was now telling her story with her eyes open. The memories must be coming easier to her now, he thought.

  “I was so thrilled to see a glow-in-the-dark drink bar,” she continued. “Kids were sitting on glowing stools that rose up and down every time anyone sitting on one laughed. If you didn’t want to spill your drink, you didn’t laugh. For those who couldn’t contain their laughter, a cleanup crew of glowing mechanical hands would quickly wipe up any mess. Alyssa ordered a cucumber frizz. I ordered a sarsaparilla drilla.” The words rolled off Nana’s tongue. “The cucumber fizz fizzed up the glass until Alyssa drank it down and it fizzed up again. My sarsaparilla drilla was served so cold the top of the drink was covered in a layer of ice and it came with a little drill. I looked over at Alyssa who was giggling, causing her stool to rise five feet up and back down. Alyssa pointed at the glass as she went up again. I drilled the top of my drink. The ice sheet shattered, dropping the pieces into my drink. It was cold, delicious, and refreshing.”

  “Bathroom break!” Henry shouted, loud enough to make nearly everyone jump. He disappeared down the hall.

  Just as the bathroom door shut, the TV flashed on and Goaltan appeared.

  Peter looked desperately around Goaltan’s surroundings to see if he could recognize where he might be. It was no use. The cameraman’s close-up on Goaltan was too tight.

  “Lina Young, it seems your family isn’t listed,” Goaltan said, tearing a phone book in half with ease. “And Peter Fischer, it seems I hadn’t been spelling your last name correctly.” The cameraman panned out and Peter could see where Goaltan was standing.

  Papa shot up to his feet. “My Sweet Shop!”

  Goaltan walked to the doorway of Papa’s Sweet Shop and held up the address card from Papa’s Rolodex. “I will deal with this monstrosity,” he said, pointing to the building. “And then, I am coming to your home, Peter, to make myself comfortable.” He winked a devious wink which Peter knew was meant only for him.

  “The address card! I left that out in the open, on the table!” Joe said, exasperated with himself.

  Goaltan leaned toward the “Closed” sign that hung in the doorway of Papa’s Sweet Shop. “Closed indeed!” he said, flicking the glass with his finger and sending a crack in slow motion up the glass in the door. Then he punched through the glass and grabbed the sign. Turning back to the camera, he snarled, “I’ll keep this for a souvenir.”

  “I can’t bear to watch,” Nana said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Turn it off!” Peter’s mom pleaded.

  “I can’t,” Peter said, pushing buttons on the remote.

  “I’ll unplug it,” Mr. Rupert said, heading toward the TV. He pulled the plug just as Goaltan raised his hand above his head and laughed a horrible laugh. The TV went black.

  Lina stated the obvious. “He is coming soon.”

  It remained quiet for a long moment, until Henry reappeared. “I’m hungry!” he complained.

  Peter had been too preoccupied to notice until Henry mentioned it, but his stomach was also growling.

  “We should keep up our energy,” Peter’s mom said, moving toward the kitchen.

  Peter thought it didn’t matter if anyone stood at the windows to keep watch. He had a feeling they would know when Goaltan was in the neighborhood.

  “Can we hear more of the story now?” Henry asked politely.

  Nana managed a soft smile. “I don’t see why not.” She inhaled a long breath to relax. “Mr. Maxwell really did save the best for last. The entry to the third floor was a brightly lit tunnel. At the end of that tunnel, I could see a little brownie Candonite with mint-green sprinkles holding a white ball in her hand. The girl grinned mischievously and threw the ball straight at my chest. As I took a step out of the tunnel, the wet ball hit me and splattered apart, falling to the ground. I looked up at the girl who was already running away giggling. Alyssa was giggling too. It was a snowball! Only this was no ordinary snowball! It wasn’t cold and definitely wasn’t nearly as wet as any other snowball I had been hit with before. I felt my clothes where the snowball had impacted. They were already dry. The vast room was covered in layers of white. It was peculiar that the air was quite cozy even with all of the snow.”

  Nana explained that Maple Town and Honeyville always had warm sunny days. The Candonites learned about snow from humans and thought it was fascinating. They didn’t have any of their own so Mr. Maxwell created the third floor. The area was huge, covered in snow with giant snow forts and elaborate ice treehouses. There was also an enormous bridge strung across the ceiling leading from treehouse to treehouse. The bridge consisted of different-sized snowflake crystals. There were two small hills and one very large hill for skiers,
snowboarders, sleds, and even snowballers.

  “What is a snowballer?” Henry asked with a mouth full of sandwich. Everyone had sandwiches. Some were only picking at their sandwiches, too nervous to eat.

  Nana smiled. “I was getting to that part. A snowballer was a contraption invented by Mr. Maxwell. It was a ball big enough to fit up to four people inside facing each other. I watched as a group of Candonites boarded the ball and went rolling down the side of the snowy hill. It leaped right over skiers with ease and the riders inside squealed with delight. The third floor also contained an ice-skating rink which was located right in the middle of everything. A young, dashing Candonite man was performing figure eights and jumps above the ice.”

  Nana abruptly stopped telling her story as she heard the quiet neighborhood begin to stir. There was a low rumble and the floor beneath them shifted. Then it moved again and again. The lights flickered and soon after, the temperature in the room dropped. Goaltan was coming and he was very close.

  Hidden Treasures

  “It’s time we got to movin’,” Mr. Rupert said.

  Everyone started to get up from the table. Then they suddenly realized that they had nowhere to move to.

  “Follow me,” Mr. Rupert said hastily. He didn’t go very far. He stopped in the living room.

  “What are we going to do?” Peter asked Lina, as if she would know. Lina shrugged her shoulders, as if she was disappointed that she didn’t know.

  “Everyone get to steppin’ off the throw rug.” Mr. Rupert got on his knees and kneeled in front of it.

  Mrs. Young said, “A prayer now would be a good idea.” She bowed her head and clasped her hands together.

  Mr. Rupert brushed back the fringe of the rug and took a set of keys out of his pocket. With the tip of the key, he lifted up a very small piece of the wood floor, revealing a keyhole. Not everyone could see what he was doing.