by Bill Myers
TRANSLATION: It was dry.
Miss Grumpaton looked at TJ and smiled (which got really confusing with her perma-frown tattoo). “Well done, my girl. Very well done. It appears I shall have some interesting reading this evening.” Then, with a wave of her fossilized hand, she dismissed TJ.
The two girls left the room. Already TJ could feel the weight of guilt about what she’d done. It was so great she barely heard Elizabeth as they headed down the hall.
“That’s incredible,” Elizabeth was saying. “A 20-page book report.”
“Yeah,” TJ mumbled.
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, TD?”
TJ looked up. “Hm?” Then shaking her head, she answered, “No, not really.”
“Oh yeah, really. It’s like every time you do something, it’s weird and mysterious.”
TJ laughed nervously—the type of laugh that’s just a little too long and just a little too high . . . and just a little too suspicious.
Elizabeth lowered her voice. “You’re not like some witch or something, are you? I mean some of this stuff could be right out of a Hairy Potty book.”
“Me?” Another laugh, a little longer, a little higher, as they turned the corner and approached TJ’s locker. “I’m just your average, run-of-the-mill girl from Missouri.”
“Missouri? Is that like a state or something?”
TJ looked at her.
“I mean, it’s not like a code name for some alien spaceship, is it?”
“Trust me,” TJ said as they arrived at her locker and she dialed the combination, “there’s absolutely nothing special about me.” Without looking, she opened her locker door and slipped off her backpack.
“Oh, really?” Elizabeth said.
“Really. I’m just your average, all-American girl.”
“Who just happens to have a boy stuffed in her locker?”
TJ turned to her locker and gasped. Elizabeth was right. There was a boy inside! But not just any boy. This kid looked like he was wearing clothes right out of the 18th century.
“Who . . . who are you?” TJ stuttered.
“I’m Jim Hawkins,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. “Cabin boy on the good ship Hispaniola.”
TJ blinked. Jim Hawkins was the cabin boy in Treasure Island! No way! It couldn’t be!
“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Long John Silver, would you?”
Without a word, TJ slammed the locker shut. She turned to Elizabeth and gave a nervous giggle.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Those clothes are sooo out of fashion.”
TJ nodded.
“So who is he?” Elizabeth asked.
“Uh, um, Jim. My cousin. He’s visiting.”
The boy began
from inside the locker.
“Miss? . . . Excuse me, miss?”
“Your cousin?” Elizabeth asked skeptically.
“Right. Cousin Jimmy. He wanted to check out my school.”
“Excuse me . . . miss?”
“So . . . ,” TJ said, trying to shout over the noise. “What say we grab some lunch? I’m starved.”
Without another word, she turned and quickly headed down the hall.
Fortunately, Elizabeth followed, staying glued to her side. Unfortunately, she still had a couple more questions to ask.
QUESTION #1:
“So if your cousin wants to see the school, how come he’s locked in your locker?”
TJ shrugged. “He’s just weird that way.”
Elizabeth nodded and got around to
QUESTION #2:
“So . . . does that make him a witch, too—or just a sorcerer?”
The only good thing about sitting at the cool kids’ table with Elizabeth and Hesper Breakahart was Chad Steel. It’s not that she liked Chad or anything. I mean, other than him being the hottest guy in school and one of the sweetest boys she’d ever met, she never gave him a second thought.
A first thought, yes. Every five or six seconds, you bet. But nothing more.
They were simply neighbors who occasionally spoke to each other (whenever she could remember how to speak in front of him) or gave nods when they passed each other in the hall (whenever she could remember how to walk in front of him).
Besides, he was already spoken for by Hesper Breakahart. And after the way TJ embarrassed Hesper last week, it was important that TJ do everything she could to stay on the superstar’s good side.
“So, um, er, new girl,” Hesper said as one of her best friends opened an unflavored yogurt carton for her. (Hesper hated getting her hands dirty, and we all know the chances of getting a speck of yogurt on you when you peel back those dreadful foil lids.) “I hear you’re really good at writing reports.”
“She’s better than good. She’s really, really good,” Elizabeth said as she opened her own unflavored yogurt . . . along with every other girl at the table. It wasn’t much of a lunch, but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and Hesper definitely liked to be flattered.
TJ stole a look at Chad, pleased to see he was eating a triple-decker hamburger with everything on it.
Elizabeth continued. “She’s so good, it’s almost like she has magical powers.” She gave TJ a knowing look, like they had some secret between them. TJ glanced away, pretending not to notice.
Hesper turned to TJ and smiled her dazzling smile. “Maybe you could give me some pointers on writing a report sometime?”
TJ gave a shrug. “Sure.”
“Like tonight?”
TJ nearly choked on her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Tonight?”
“Yes, I’ve got a history report due, but I have this dreadful hangnail.” Hesper held out her hand. “See?”
The other girls moved in, taking a closer look, ooh-ing and aah-ing in sympathy.
With a quiver in her voice, Hesper continued. “And until it heals, I just don’t think I’ll be able to write a single word.”
“Ooh . . .”
“Aah . . .”
“In fact, you may have to write the entire report.”
TJ fumbled for her milk carton to wash down her sandwich.
“Do you think you could do that?” Hesper asked, fighting back the tears.
All the girls at the table turned to TJ, fighting back their own tears.
TJ swallowed. To say no to Hesper would put her back on the diva’s enemy list. But to write the paper for her would definitely be cheating.
And yet . . . cheating hadn’t been so hard with Miss Grumpaton. In fact, the old lady seemed pretty impressed.
TJ watched as a single tear tracked down Hesper’s perfectly made-up cheek. She looked back to the other girls and, you guessed it, saw the same tears on their same cheeks. And although it went against everything she knew was right, TJ finally nodded. “I might be able to help a little, sure.”
“Yippee!” Hesper cried, throwing her arms around TJ.
“Yippee!” the other girls cried, throwing their arms around each other.
“My secretary will call you about the details,” Hesper said, her tear suddenly disappearing as she returned to her yogurt.
Of course the other girls also returned to their yogurts, chittering and chattering about how lucky TJ was to be able to help Hesper. But the truth was TJ did not feel so lucky. She felt even less lucky when she glanced down at the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Because there, amid the little holes on the top of each shaker, was a set of tiny eyes. One set of tiny eyes that looked exactly like it belonged to Herby, and another set that looked exactly like it belonged to Tuna.
“Guys,” she whispered, “what are you doing here?”
The salt and pepper shakers blinked.
“Are you spying on me?”
Elizabeth turned from Hesper and asked, “What’s that, TB?”
“Oh, nothing.” TJ smiled.
When she was sure it was safe, she turned back to the salt and pepper shakers and demanded, “Go home!”
More
blinking.
“Go home now!”
Elizabeth turned back, her smile wilting slightly. “I’m sorry?”
Again TJ smiled. “Oh . . . no, not you.”
Elizabeth nodded, looking around the table before returning to Hesper.
TJ glared back at the boys, but they still refused to answer.
“All right, fine!” She reached for the saltshaker with one hand and the pepper with the other. “If you won’t go home . . .” She turned them upside down and began to shake.
“Your Dude-ness!” the saltshaker screamed.
TJ shook harder.
“I’m getting nauseated!” the pepper shaker cried.
“Me too,” the saltshaker yelled. “I’m gonna hurl!”
By now everyone was looking around the table to see who was yelling. Only Elizabeth, who stared at the shakers, seemed to make some sort of connection.
“Say, BLT?” she asked. “Why are you salt and peppering your peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
Instantly, TJ stopped. But before she could answer
Tuna and Herby morphed themselves back into normal people. Well, if you call 23rd-century time travelers standing on the cafeteria table in their silver time-travel suits “normal.”
The good news was only TJ could see them.
The bad news was this didn’t stop her from yelling, “Will you go home?!”
“What’s that, um, er, new girl?” Hesper asked.
TJ looked to her, trying to smile but failing miserably.
“Did you have something to contribute to our conversation?”
TJ shook her head and looked down to her sandwich.
“Good,” Hesper said. “Just stick to writing papers and leave intelligent conversation to us.”
The girls giggled at what was supposed to be humor. TJ felt her cheeks growing hot and nodded. She stole a look at Chad, who seemed anything but amused by the comment.
Unfortunately, Hesper wasn’t exactly finished.
“I mean, since when do folks from Misery, or whatever state you’re from, have anything important to say?”
More tittering by the girls.
More blushing by TJ.
And more scowling by Chad.
But Herby had heard enough. Kneeling on the table, he grabbed TJ’s milk carton. Of course, he was invisible, so all the kids saw was a milk carton mysteriously float off the table and rise above Hesper’s head.
“Herby, don’t!” TJ cried.
Everyone watched in amazement.
“Tuna, stop him!”
Tuna fumbled for his Swiss Army Knife. But he was too late. Herby tilted the carton of milk and poured. The liquid splashed out and was just inches from Hesper’s head when Tuna opened the Time Freezer Blade and
everything and everyone dropped into slow motion.
Everything and everyone but Tuna, Herby, and TJ.
TJ leaped to her feet and shouted at them. “What are you doing?! I told you to stay home. Why did you come to school?”
“We have an emergency, Your Dude-ness.”
“I don’t care about your emergency. There’s no reason . . .” She pointed at the milk slowly falling from the carton. “You just can’t . . . Why are you . . . ?”
“Didn’t you hear what torked things she was saying about you?” Herby asked.
“Well, yes, but . . . I mean, it’s Hesper Breakahart; what do you expect?”
Tuna stuck his finger into the slowly falling stream of milk and gave it a taste. “I expected it to be a lot creamier.”
“That’s because it’s nonfat,” Herby explained.
TJ blew the hair out of her eyes. “What kind of emergency?”
Tuna answered, “You must accompany us back to your house at once!”
TJ motioned to Hesper. By now the stream of milk was an inch from her head. “What about her?”
“We gotta hurry, Your Dude-ness!” Herby insisted.
And before TJ could protest, Tuna pulled out two knife blades. The Transporter Blade
which sent them back to her house, and the Time Freezer Blade
which returned everything to normal. Well, except for the milk that suddenly drenched Hesper’s head.
“MY HAIR!” she cried, “MY BEAUTIFULLY CUT AND EXPENSIVELY STYLED HAIR!”
And while all the girls made a big fuss (and poured milk over their own heads), Elizabeth noticed something very strange. . . .
The new girl had disappeared. Vanished into thin air.
CHAPTER FOUR
Crystal Ball . . . 23rd Century Style
TIME TRAVEL LOG:
Malibu, California, October 20—supplemental
Begin Transmission:
Subject unreceptive to marriage proposal. No big quod-quod. She may come around . . . in two or three centuries! Sigh . . .
End Transmission
TJ stood inside her room with her hands on her hips. “So what was so important that you had to drag me away from my friends?” she demanded.
“Friends?” Tuna snorted. “You want them as friends?”
“Well, no, not really. But I don’t want them as enemies, either.”
“Your Dude-ness, that wannabe human was majorly zworking you!”
“Her name is Hesper Breakahart . . . and she just happens to be the most popular teenager in all of America!”
“Who will be completely forgotten in 10 years,” Tuna said. “She’s not even in the history holographs.”
Herby nodded. “Whereas you, Your Dude-ness, are gonna be remembered forever for all the cool things you’ll do.”
“But what about now?” she argued.
“Now you are laying the foundation for what you’ll become,” Tuna explained. “Someone great who will end world hunger, eliminate diseases—”
“—and bring back the hula hoop!” Herby added brightly. Then, just as quickly, he deflated and said, “At least you were.”
TJ turned to him. “What do you mean?”
Without a word, Tuna opened another blade of the Swiss Army Knife, and
the entire room was filled with babies. There were hundreds of them crying and screaming.
“What’s going on?” TJ shouted over the noise.
“It’s a hologram,” Tuna shouted back.
“Of what?”
“A Starving Room.”
“A what?”
“In the future, it’s where they’ll put all the babies who are starving to death.”
TJ looked around the room in astonishment. It was true. All the children there were starving. Some were so skinny, they looked like skeletons with skin stretched over their bones. It was hard to tell which was worse—the way they looked or the way they kept screaming and whimpering.
“But you said I was going to change all that!” TJ shouted.
“You were,” Tuna agreed, “until you . . .”
“Until I what?”
“Until you cheated with that book report.”
“What?!” TJ motioned around the room. “How could a little cheating do all this?”
“You changed your future,” Tuna said.
“How?”
He reopened the blade and
the three of them were standing at the back of an auditorium full of clapping people. Onstage, an 18-year-old version of TJ, dressed in a plastic garbage bag, was receiving a certificate.
“What’s this about?” TJ asked.
Tuna leaned toward her and explained, “Miss Grumpaton was so impressed by your report that she helped you acquire a writing scholarship to a top college.”
TJ frowned. “But isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yes and no. The good news is that garbage bags will be totally out of fashion in two years.”
“And the bad news?” TJ asked.
“Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”
All three ducked as the parrot suddenly appeared and flew just above their heads, then circled the audience.
“You still don’t have that story thingy
fixed?” TJ complained.
Herby shrugged. “We’re waiting for parts.”
Tuna pulled out the Story Amplifier Blade and tried to
remove the bird. But nothing happened. He turned to TJ and shrugged. “Well, at least it’s not that awful—”
“PTERODACTYL!” all three cried in unison.
After another
and a few
the pterodactyl finally
disappeared and everything was back to normal. Well, except for the dinosaur drool on the heads of several members of the audience.
“And the bad news?” TJ repeated. “You said there was some bad news?”
“Right. Hang on.” Tuna opened up the first blade again and
all three were transported to a college library. Not far from them, a college-age version of TJ stood talking to another student. After glancing nervously over her shoulder, she slipped the student a wad of cash.
“What am I doing?” TJ whispered to the guys.
“You’re buying a report from someone who wrote it for you,” Tuna said.
“I’m what?”
Herby explained, “Everyone went so gam-gam for your writing that you had to keep cheating in college, too.”
A sinking feeling filled TJ’s stomach. “You mean I had to keep cheating to cover up my cheating?”
“Exactly.”
“And it gets worse,” Tuna said. He shut and reopened the blade.
Suddenly all three were standing in a wedding chapel watching TJ get married. She was dressed in a beautiful white gown and veil.
“Wow,” TJ whispered to the guys, “I look great.”
Herby nodded. “Majorly smoot!”
But Tuna was looking at his knife, scowling. “That’s not right. This isn’t your—”
TJ didn’t bother to listen. She quickly circled around to get a look at her future husband. The first thing she noticed was his height. He was about as tall as Herby. The second thing she noticed was his hair. It was as long and blond as Herby’s. The third thing she noticed was
