“Heeere’s Roger!” said Henry, presenting Jerry with a flourish. “Roger Mantis, our team mascot.”
“Your team’s the Falcons, dammit!” yelled Barry.
“Barry!” said his mother, scandalized. “Be quiet!” She turned to the reporter. “My son never lies to me about these things. He said the giant bug was real.”
“Well?” The reporter turned to Roger’s team.
“Whoever heard of a real giant bug?” said Julie as if this was perfectly obvious.
“Yeah,” said Ricky, next to her. “Heck, if there was a real giant bug out here, Julie wouldn’t come within a mile of it.” Julie frowned and jammed an elbow into Ricky’s ribs.
Barry spluttered, getting redder and redder. He looked like he was going to pop soon. That is if his mother, looking daggers at him, didn’t pop first.
The reporter finally looked at the only other adult, Mr. Horowitz. “Well?” he said.
Mr. Horowitz didn’t say anything at all. He just looked at Barry, over to Jerry, and then back at the reporter. He shook his head gently, and shrugged.
“All right,” said Edison Carter. “All right. Dick, Karen, button it up, and let’s get out of this … town. You know,” he said to nobody in particular as he stalked off, followed by his assistants, “it’s going to be just bloody fantastic when my boss finally stops having it in for me after my screw-up last month.” The three disappeared out of Roger’s view. He heard car doors slamming loudly and a car roaring off before he saw a giant cloud of dust blow across the ball field.
Mrs. Wilson stomped off too, followed at some distance by her son, who turned back and said, through gritted teeth, “I’m going to get somebody for this.” Then they both left the field, and Roger heard another car peel out of the gravel lot.
For a few minutes, there was quiet. Then the cheers erupted again. Charlie and Chris hauled Jerry up on their shoulders. Jerry waved his claws in triumph for a moment before Charlie and Chris let him down with a grunt.
“Blah,” said Chris. “You’re still wet!”
“Tell me about it,” said Jerry’s muffled voice. “Somebody get this thing off me! But careful! It’s a work of art!”
Gary rode into the field on his bike. “Wow!” he said. “That city guy didn’t get below forty all the way to the county road! He’s probably on the highway by now! The Wilsons are long gone too.”
“Come on, let’s go out. I think it’s safe now,” said Marlene. Roger ducked and followed her back to the far end of the bleachers to climb out.
As they came out onto the field, the team erupted again in “Roger! Roger! Roger!” Julie backed off a bit, but she was still smiling.
Jerry came up, having removed his mantis parts and carefully setting them on a nearby bench.
“Your head looks like a wet hen,” said Marlene. “And it’s got paste all over it.”
“I think he even smells a little like a wet hen,” said Roger.
Ricky looked at Roger. “You don’t have a nose,” he said. “How do you smell?”
Jerry’s mouth opened, but he looked around and noticed that every last person was giving him a “don’t even think about it” look. He closed his mouth again and grinned.
“Sorry about the wet,” he said. “It would have worked better with another day to dry. But it’ll look just fine if we ever need it again.”
“That was great, Jerry,” said Roger. “Really great!”
“We couldn’t just hide you and wait for it to blow over,” said Jerry. “Too many people in town have seen you and even a few kids from Centerville. We needed to get that guy so darn mad right off the bat that he’d just storm off and without even checking around. Otherwise a lot of other people in town might have given him a real earful. I don’t think we could get every last person in Highland Falls to back us up the way the team and Mr. Horowitz did.”
“That was some good thinking, Jerry,” said Marlene. “I’m really impressed.” Jerry beamed. It took a lot to impress Marlene.
“The news will get out eventually,” said Roger, still worried. “Maybe Mrs. Wilson will come back with a camera. Or someone else will take pictures. Nobody’s going to see a photo of me and think I’m a kid in a suit.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Jerry. “But remember that we took unfakeable Polaroid pictures to show your dad, and he still had trouble buying it.” He shrugged. “Hey, maybe we bought you a week or two. Who knows? Maybe you’ll change back any day now. Anyway, I wouldn’t have missed the chance to pull something like this for anything.” He ran his hands through his hair. Paste came off on his fingers. “And now, I am going to go take a shower. The carnival opens tonight, and I am going on all the rides. You two coming?”
“You bet!” said Marlene.
“I’d really like to,” said Roger, “but maybe I need to lay low for a while.”
“Aw, c’mon,” said Jerry. “That reporter took off in a cloud of failure. You think after this those city guys are going to pay any attention to anyone else reporting a giant mantis around here? We’ll go over after dark, if you’re really worried about it. Strangers will probably think you’re some kind of carnival gimmick. Hmm … ” Jerry got one of his thoughtful looks, the ones that tended to worry people who knew him. “Just meet us out there,” he said.
“Well … okay, you talked me into it!” said Roger. “See you later!”
Just to play it safe, Roger took the ravine route back. He felt worlds better than he had when he’d come out here. His friends had come through for him again. He remembered how he had doubted Jerry, and even had thoughts that Marlene—of all people—might sell him out! How could he have been so stupid? Why, even Mr. Horowitz had stuck up for him, and to Mrs. Wilson to boot. His legs danced lightly across the rocks at the bottom of the ravine as Roger headed home.
Chapter Fifteen
The best part of Spring Break was that Roger could finally stop worrying about something awful happening at school. At least for a while. The second best part was that either by chance or some bizarre burst of human kindness, none of Roger’s teachers had assigned homework over the break. To make things even better, supper that night was fried chicken, one of Roger’s all-time favorite meals as a human, and he was happy that he still found it delicious as a mantis. It was a good thing his mother had cooked two chickens, since Roger ate one of them entirely, bones and all.
Feeling full and happy, Roger offered to clean the table after supper. It took him longer than usual to move the plates to the sink. Holding the slippery ceramic dishes with his claws and tarsi took some concentration, but he only dropped one plate, and fortunately, it didn’t break. While he worked, he ate his parents’ leftover chicken bones. Delicious. The bones were like extra crunchy French fries.
Roger looked out the kitchen window. This time of year, the days were getting longer and he didn’t really want to wait another hour for it to get dark before he went to the carnival. Poking his head into the living room, Roger could see his father studying a bunch of papers spread out on the coffee table. One even had a diagram of a mantis. Along with his mom and her biology degree, he’d bet his parents already knew more about mantises than Marlene ever would.
“Dad? I’m all done in here. I’m heading over to the carnival.”
“Keep your eyes open, son. There’ll be some out-of-towners there. You just managed to duck that reporter today. Won’t do you much good if two more reporters spot you tonight.”
“I know, Dad. The carnival is in the high school parking lot, and I can take the ravine in again. Then … well, I’ll just be as careful as I can. I can’t hide forever.”
His father looked up and smiled. “We’re trying for as long as possible, so you can still live a normal life. Good luck, son. You’ve got some guts. I’m proud of how you’re handling this.”
Roger wrapped a tarsus around the phone receiver, picked it up, and dialed Jerry’s house (he had finally learned to manage a phone without
someone else holding the receiver for him). He found out Jerry was already over at the carnival. Roger grabbed his baseball cap—he suspected he’d need all the help he could get—and went out the door feeling pretty darn good. There are worse things than being told you had guts by someone who’d been in a war, even if he was your dad.
When he got to the end of the ravine near the school, he peeked over the edge. The carnival was a wonderful mash of colored lights and the sounds of people having fun. Music came from a tiny merry-go-round packed with little kids, and there were rows of stalls packed with games. Roger’s antennae wiggled, catching the scent of popcorn, hot dogs, and those little fried donuts. Above it all was the slowly-turning Ferris wheel, strung all along its spokes with long red and green neon light bulbs. It wasn’t as big as the one at the State Fair, but it was bigger than any they’d had here before, and every car was full.
Roger tapped his cap, climbed out of the ravine, and walked calmly across the broad weedy meadow serving as a parking lot. Fortunately, most of the people milling around were locals, and while some still pointed at Roger, he was old news to almost all of them. Feeling a little bit more confident, but still keeping his eyes open, Roger moved into the midway.
“Hey, Roger! Up here!” Roger looked up. Jerry and Marlene were in a car of the Ferris wheel, coming down. The wheel did that start-and-stop thing Ferris wheels do when loading and unloading. When his friends’ car got to the bottom, Jerry and Marlene got out and came over to him.
“Come on, Roger,” said Marlene. “I have got to see you on the hammer and bell thing!”
“I don’t know,” said Roger, looking around. “I’m still not really sure this was a good idea.”
“Remember what I said about being a carnival gimmick earlier today?” said Jerry. “Look at this.” He held up a small box with a long wire antenna and a couple of levers on top.
“That looks like something for a remote control toy car,” said Roger.
“Actually, it is from an old remote control toy car. It doesn’t even have batteries in it. Here, lift your left arm.” Jerry twiddled a lever. “Now the right one.” Roger got the idea, and chuckled.
Marlene just rolled her eyes. “Your last idea was better, Martinez. Nobody’s going to buy this.”
“Think about it,” said Jerry. “Sure, a remote-controlled, giant toy insect is hard to believe, but how much harder is it to believe in a real live giant insect?”
“Huh,” said Marlene, grudgingly. “You might actually have a point.”
They walked out into the carnival, with Jerry behind Roger and moving the levers around. Roger tried to act like a large robot bug, but it was annoying to have to keep it up, and he soon forgot about it as he moved around the booths and rides.
Whether strangers believed he was a remote-controlled giant bug or not was hard to say. It certainly seemed to be convincing enough for them not to simply panic at first sight. The baseball cap probably helped, too.
To Roger’s relief, there were no major scenes, although people did give him plenty of room as he moved through the crowds. There were a lot of stares, even from people who must have known who he was. He wondered what he looked like under the strange and garish carnival lighting. “Sorry, Roger,” said Marlene, noticing the uneasy crowd. “I really thought more of the people in town would have heard of you by now. Maybe a lot of them don’t have kids in our school.”
“It’s okay,” said Roger. “I really wanted to come tonight, and I suppose nervousness is the best outcome I could have hoped for. At least nobody’s chasing me with torches and pitchforks.”
They ran into Henry, their team catcher, and he took them over to the bottle pitch booth where most of the rest of Roger’s team was cheering on their crack baseball pitcher, Gary. For the second year in a row, Gary was close to reducing the booth operator to tears by knocking over the bottles with almost every throw. Once surrounded by his teammates, Roger enjoyed the carnival a lot more.
“I don’t think I’ll fit in one of those cars,” Roger told Jerry and Marlene when many of his teammates got in line for the Ferris wheel. “You guys go with the team.”
“Ah, we’ll stick with you for a while,” said Jerry. “We just rode it, and we can catch it again later.” Marlene nodded.
“Thanks, guys,” said Roger.
They found the bell-ringing booth, and once Roger had figured out how to grip and swing the hammer—with one arm—another concession operator looked likely to give up a lot of prizes. He asked Roger nicely to stop when it looked like the bell on top of the tower was about to fly off, so Roger agreed to move on. Marlene took only one of the giant stuffed animals instead of the seven that Roger actually won.
“I can’t really carry any more,” she said, “and besides, it seems like it’s kind of cheating to use super powers.”
“Super powers?” said Roger.
“Sure,” said Jerry, peeling a handful of cotton candy off its paper cone and stuffing it in his mouth. “You’re kind of a thooper hero,” he said in a sticky voice. He looked around, found a short, rusty length of thick steel rebar in a pile of rubbish, and handed it to Roger. “Here,” he said. “Bend this!”
“What?” said Roger.
“Like the two-by-four you busted in half,” said Jerry. “Grab each end and bend it.”
Roger shrugged, pinched each end of the bar in his claws, and without any visible effort, bent it into a V-shape as chunks of rust sprayed off.
“See?” said Jerry. “Bend steel in your bare hands. Leap tall buildings in a single bound. Super hero.” He stuffed another chunk of cotton candy into his mouth.
“He’s got a point,” said Marlene. “Although you’re certainly not faster than a speeding bullet.”
“Mumph,” said Jerry, swallowing cotton candy. “I don’t think I’d bet on him against a locomotive, either. Still, two out of four’s not bad.”
Roger had never really looked at it that way before. He could do a lot of things nobody else could do. Then he thought of something else.
“Is it … cheating then when I play baseball?” he asked.
Jerry and Marlene looked at each other. “I never really thought about it,” said Marlene. “We’ve only played in practices so far.”
“Yeah,” said Jerry, “and every great hit was for our team. Who’d complain?”
“Maybe the other team, in a real game,” someone said behind them.
Chapter Sixteen
Roger turned around to see a couple of kids from Centerville who had been watching their practice last Sunday. The one who had spoken was on the Centerville team.
“How’s it going, Eric?” said Jerry. “Ready for Saturday?”
Eric ignored him. “I don’t think it’s fair to have someone on a team who’s a lot stronger than a regular kid,” he said. “It’d be like playing with a grownup.” He bent down and picked up the bent steel bar Roger had dropped. “Maybe a lot worse.”
Roger couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Look,” said Jerry, “it’s not Roger’s fault he’s this way. There’s a lot of things he can’t do like he used to. So then, why shouldn’t he be able to do the things he can do better?”
“It’s still not fair,” said Eric quietly, as he tossed the rebar at their feet. He and the other kid turned to walk away. Eric looked back. “I don’t think our coach will think so either.”
Roger watched them go, his concern growing. Were they right? Or was Jerry? He hadn’t expected this to come up now. He’d wanted so badly to keep playing baseball and figured that once his own team accepted him as a player, everybody else would, too.
“Hey there, kids. Want to clue me in on what this is all about?”
They turned and saw a short, fat, gray-haired man in grubby work clothes walking toward them, chewing a big, unlit cigar. When he got closer, Roger noticed that it looked like it never had been lit.
“Name’s Auburn. Fred Auburn. I run
this show. What’s with the giant bug?”
Jerry began frantically moving the levers on his remote control. Roger moved his arms up and down in jerky, mechanical spurts. He had serious doubts whether they were fooling him but remembered Jerry’s observation that almost anything was more plausible than a real giant mantis.
“So,” said the carnival boss, giving Roger a once-over. “Real or fake?” It didn’t sound like he was asking a question of anyone except himself. Roger, increasingly nervous, got the impression that not a lot of people pulled the wool over Fred Auburn’s eyes.
Jerry obviously had the same feeling and stopped twiddling the levers, and Roger decided to stop pretending too. Marlene, for once, had no idea what to do either.
Auburn laughed. “Relax. When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter, does it? If it’s a real giant mantis, it’d be one of the new Wonders of the World. If it’s a gaff—a fake—it’s the best one I’ve ever seen. People see what they want to see.” He grinned. “I love the baseball cap,” he said, flipping the bill of Roger’s cap lightly with a finger. Roger still didn’t move. Auburn reached into a shirt pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to Jerry. “I don’t have a sideshow on this tour, but give me a call.”
He walked off, chewing his unlit cigar.
Roger saw the dawning expression of another Jerry Idea coming in for a landing on his friend’s face.
“Don’t even think about it, Martinez,” said Roger.
“But … ”
“No!”
“Always with the closed mind,” grumbled Jerry. “I bet we could—”
A sudden, loud clank interrupted him. They all looked over at the Ferris wheel. Its slow turning had come to a complete stop, and the wheel was shaking noticeably. From the base of the Ferris wheel a grinding noise grew until it cut off with a bang. Kids on the wheel, rocking in the open-seat cars, yelled angrily.
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