He waddled over to me and asked, “Do aliens pee in their space suits?”
“No,” I said.
“Then you better help me get this off fast,” he said. He toppled over to the ground, and I tugged off the suit. A minute later, he dashed into the house to find the bathroom.
And I told Mom, “I’m itching. All over.”
“Not now!” Mom said.
“Tonight,” I said.
“After the presents, go up to your room and take care of it,” she said. “I’ll come and check on you later.”
I nodded.
From the deck, Dad called, “Time for cake and presents.”
He went into the kitchen to get the cake, and I hurried to help.
Alone in the kitchen, Dad told me, “You know, a crowd of Earthling children isn’t so bad. This is fun.”
I grinned and propped the kitchen door open. Dad held Freddy’s coconut cake in both hands and stepped outside. And tripped.
He fell slowly, arms held straight out, trying to protect the cake. I couldn’t help it, I used a tiny bit of telekinesis to hold him up. Not much. Just enough to keep Dad from hurting himself. His hands still hit first, and he still skidded across the deck. His face still landed right in the middle of the cake.
Dad sat up, covered with cake and frosting.
And the kids just cracked up.
Principal Lynx shoved to the front of the crowd. “Did you see that?” she demanded. “He didn’t really fall. Someone or something held him up.”
She was really good: she saw everything! Fortunately, everyone ignored Mrs.Lynx. Mostly, kids were still laughing as Dad scraped icing from his eyes.
Just then, Freddy came out the kitchen door and saw the broken cake. He bent and grabbed a chunk of cake with his bare hands. He threw the cake at Bree.
She squealed in shock.
Oh, that Freddy! Bree needed a towel to clean up. But I was frozen.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Lynx backed away from the broken cake and Freddy and Bree.
Bree reached up and swiped the icing off her eyebrow. “OK, Freddy. You asked for it.”
She grabbed a chunk of cake with her bare hands and threw it at Freddy.
Mrs. Hendricks’s eyes were wide. She called, “A cake fight!”
Only Earthlings would think a birthday cake fight was fun.
I stared as cake flew everywhere. Bree’s hair was covered with white. She saw me watching and threw a chunk of cake at me. I turned away, but the cake smacked right into my ear. Bree just smiled.
And right there, in the middle of the birthday cake fight, the Earth’s sun shone straight through me and filled me up. And that still surprises me a lot when that it happens.
For a while, kids threw cake everywhere. What a magnificent mess!
When Mom and Dad realized that no one was mad, they just stood back and watched. When the cake was gone, they helped hose off sticky hair and dry off clothes. Then they hosed off the deck.
Quick, I ran to the kitchen to make a new cake in the replicator. But the bag of white cubes was empty. I searched, but there were none anywhere in the cabinets.
Mom came in and said, “We are all out of cubes. The replicator won’t work.”
And it really hit me. We were on our own here on Earth.
“Don’t worry,” Mom said. She had made a large, eggless chocolate cake for Bree and an extra, eggless cake—just in case kids ate a lot. Quickly, she wrote words with icing on the second cake for Freddy.
After everyone was cleaned up, Mom and I brought out the two new cakes—slow and careful—and everyone sang, “Happy birthday!”
Bree pointed at her cake and asked, “What does that mean?”
Bree’s cake said: “Happy Breeday!”
Mom said, “Isn’t that right? Today is the day of your birth. It is Bree’s Day.”
Bree grinned. “I guess it is Bree’s Day.”
Then, Freddy pointed at the other cake. “What does that mean?”
Written on the cake was this:
“Happy Birthday.
Then Underneath,
We love you son,
Mom and Dad.”
Everyone laughed.
Frowning, Mom pulled out a paper from her jeans pocket. “That’s what your Mom said to write.”
“That’s funny,” Freddy said.
Later, I would explain to Mom that it was funny because she was supposed to leave out the instructions, “Then Underneath.”
The full moon had risen during the party, and now it shone a golden light on our deck. Bree and Freddy blew out all nine plus nine candles on the birthday cakes.
Then, I worried. Would they like eggless chocolate cake?
Bree took the first bite.
With her mouth full, she tried to talk, “Mmsss.” But I knew what she meant: Magnificent.
For a few minutes everyone ate cake. Except Mrs. Lynx. She just walked around and bent to look at kids’ faces. I could not relax till this party was over and she was gone.
Just then Mary Lee’s Dad came over to talk to Mom and Dad. “I’m Chief Glendale, the Chief of Police.”
“Oh,” Dad said.
I didn’t know Mary Lee’s dad was a policeman. Were we in trouble?
Mrs. Lynx came over to listen.
“This is such a great party,” Chief Glendale said. “Do you do other events? The Friends of Police need someone to organize a school parade. We have a small budget to pay you.”
Mrs. Hendricks overheard that and turned around. “I think I have something to say about that.”
I held my breath. This was it.
“I can’t believe that cake fight,” Mrs. Hendricks said.
I groaned.
She went on, “My twelve-year-old party had a cake fight, and it was the best party I ever had. I’m just glad this party wasn’t at my house, so I don’t have to clean up the mess. And Freddy’s cake was so funny.”
“You liked the party?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Hendricks said. She told Chief Glendale, “I can give them a good reference.”
We had done it. The aliens had thrown a magnificent Alien Party.
Mom told Chief Glendale, “Sure, we can help with the parade.”
Dad put his arm around Mom’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Yes, a parade should be as easy as flying from star to star.”
I groaned. Now I needed a Parade List.
Mrs. Hendricks laughed. “You need to start a company. I can help you with the legal papers. What will you call your company?”
I knew the answer to that one. “Aliens, Inc.”
Looking around the alien landscape with the swirling green glow, everyone agreed it was a good name.
Now it was time for presents.
Mom and Dad piled everything on a table on the deck.
I stayed close to Mrs. Lynx, though, because she was talking to Chief Glendale.
“Someone in the third grade used telekinesis,” she said. “Mr. Smith didn’t fall hard enough. From now on, I will be watching the whole third grade.”
Chief Glendale patted her on the back. “When you find the aliens, you just let me know.”
I didn’t know if he believed her or not. But from now on, we had to worry about Mrs. Lynx and Chief Glendale.
Now Freddy and Bree opened their presents. There were lots of toys, games and books. Last, Bree opened my present, a framed picture of Jupiter.
“Thanks. This is magnificent. But how did you get this picture?” Bree’s forehead wrinkled. “It’s taken from space.”
I was ready for that one. “The space program takes pictures from their space ships. It’s easy to find them on the Internet.”
“Oh,” she said. “For a minute, I thought you took the picture yourself.”
Then came the best part of the Alien Party, the tree houses. All the parents and teachers and Mrs. Lynx left. Bree and Mom and the girls climbed up to one spaceship for a sleep-over. Freddy and Dad and the guys and I climbed up
to the other spaceship for a sleepover, too.
But just as I was climbing up, I sneezed. And suddenly, the itching was really bad.
“Dad, I have to go inside for a while,” I whispered in his ear.
Dad nodded. “The worst time for this to happen.”
I sprinted up to my bedroom. Sitting on the floor in front of a mirror, I scratched at the top of my head until a piece of skin came off. What a bad time to have to shed my skin, but it would only take an hour to get it off my face and hands. The rest would be covered up with clothes, so no one would see.
I wiggled a finger into the small hole and started stretching and pulling at the skin on my face. I had just loosened a long piece from my forehead to chin when I heard my bedroom door open.
Was it Chief Glendale? Was it Mrs. Lynx?
“What are you doing?” said a voice. “And I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
It was Bree.
So, I told her, “I am shedding my skin.”
And Bree said, “Alien boys are weird.”
THE END
FOR FUN
THESE BUGS ARE HIDDEN SOMEWHERE WITHIN THE PAGES OF THIS BOOK. CAN YO FIND ALL OF THEM?
ONE EXTRA BUG IS HIDDEN SOMEWHERE IN THE BOOK, TOO. CAN YOU FIND IT?
The Answers are at MimsHouse.com/aliens
Preview
THE ALIENS, INC. SERIES,
Book 2
KELL, and the HORSE APPLE PARADE
By Darcy Pattison
pictures by
Rich Davis
Mims House / Little Rock, AR
“Kell, we need to plan the Friends of Police parade,” Mary Lee Glendale said.
I swiped a streak of red across my paper. I sat at an art table with Mary Lee and my best friend, Bree Hendricks.
Mrs. Crux, the art teacher, had shown us a painting by Alexander Calder called “Red Nose.” Now, we were painting red noses.
“Will you march in the parade?” I asked.
“My dad is president of the FOP. That’s what we call the Friends of Police, the FOP. I always march in the parade,” Mary Lee said. “Will you?”
“No.” I rubbed my right eye and stared at the Red Nose on my paper. It was a good thing she didn’t ask, “Why?” She just kept talking.
“I think the parade should have superheroes and superheroines,” Mary Lee said.
My family runs Aliens, Inc. which plans and puts on parties and other special events. The FOP parade was in one month and this was our first time to plan a parade. We were nervous. Mom and Dad said I couldn’t march because too many people would see me. That was dangerous for us.
Bree said, “The best superheroes are aliens.”
I glared at Bree for even talking about aliens. She was painting a very long, very skinny red nose. Probably a red elephant nose.
Mary Lee said, “Superheroes aren’t aliens.”
Bree said, “Superman is from the planet of Krypton. He’s an alien.”
“My Dad says Krypton was a fantastic planet,” I said.
“How would he know?” Mary Lee asked. “You can’t really go there.”
But she was wrong.
Bree looked up and grinned at me. She saw me peeling the skin off my face last week. I had to tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I, Kell Smith, am an alien from the planet of Bix. No one else knows except Bree. Well, my parents know, too. And Dad really did go to Krypton before it blew up.
But I can’t tell Mary Lee that.
I dipped my brush into black paint. I put a black line around the red nose. I studied the painting. Was this the nose of an elephant? Or the nose of Freddy Rubin? I looked over at Freddy and then back at my painting. I looked at the painting and then at Freddy. Yes, this was Freddy’s nose!
He has brown eyes. I raised my hand. “Mrs. Crux, do we have brown paint for the eyes?”
“Yes,” she said. “In the cabinet. You may get it.”
Mary Lee squinted at me while she asked, “Is there silver paint, too?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Crux said.
But just then, Principal Lynx came into the room. She wore barefoot shoes, the kind that shows each toe. They were sneaky shoes. She glided around, looking over the shoulders of students. When she does that, it gives me the creeps because she is an alien chaser. I don’t want her to catch me.
I decided to wait to get the brown and silver paints.
Mrs. Lynx stopped behind Mary Lee and said, “I am very excited about the FOP parade. It’s just the sort of thing to bring out the aliens. They love to see humans making fools of themselves.”
Mary Lee cocked an eye at me and then at the principal. “Mrs. Lynx, I don’t think aliens will come to the parade. Just people dressed up like super-heroes and superheroines.”
“Mark my words,” said Mrs. Lynx. “Aliens will be sneaking around the parade. And I will catch them.”
I shivered.
Mrs. Lynx turned to me. “Please thank your parents for taking on the FOP parade.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said.
Mrs. Edith Bumfrey had planned the FOP parade for the last 23 years. But last month, a rich aunt died and left her a house in Hawaii. After she moved, the FOP hired us. But if Mrs. Lynx planned to stalk aliens at the parade, maybe we shouldn’t plan it. Except we needed the money.
Mrs. Lynx took a cell phone from her pocket and clicked on an app. Then she leaned over Bree’s painting to see it better. “Is that an alien nose? It looks like an alien nose, and I would know.”
“No, ma’am,” she said. “It is an anteater nose.”
Mrs. Lynx nodded solemnly. “Ah, I see that now.”
There are animals that EAT ants? I didn’t know that. I hate bugs of any kind. On Earth, there are more bugs than any other kind of creature. You can never tell which bugs will bite. Or sting. I made a decision: I wanted an anteater for a pet.
Just then, Mrs. Lynx’s phone jingled with piano music. Her mouth made a circle, like she was trying to say the word, “Oh.” Quick, she looked up and stared at Bree. She frowned and looked at the phone again and shook it.
Mrs. Crux patted Mrs. Lynx’s shoulder and said, “Did you get it?”
The principal’s face lit up with a big smile. “Yes. Want to see?”
When Mrs. Crux nodded, they went over to the supply cabinet and turned their backs to the class. I had to know what they were doing.
I walked to the supply cabinet and did a thing called eavesdropping. Eaves are part of a house’s roof. This doesn’t make sense to me. Eaves-dropping means that you listen to someone talking when they don’t want you to listen. Did humans hang from rooftops and listen to other people talking?
Mrs. Lynx was saying, “—best app for finding an alien.”
“Fantastic. How much did it cost?” asked Mrs. Crux.
“A fortune. But I am the President of S.A.C., the Society of Alien Chasers. So, I got a discount. But this app didn’t come cheap.”
My mouth made an “Oh.” I shivered. How was I going to keep away from Mrs. Lynx and her app? “What does it do when you find an alien?” asked Mrs. Crux.
Mrs. Lynx laughed. “Here’s the good part. It just sounds like a ring tone. But aliens are smart. You can’t just use an alien sound or alien music. Instead, it plays a cowboy song.”
“I am from Australia, mate,” Mrs. Crux said. “I don’t know any American cowboy songs.”
“Does Australia even have aliens?” Mrs. Lynx asked. “The app plays ‘Home on the Range.’”
I had heard enough. I grabbed a jar of brown paint and turned to go. But I was so nervous that I slammed the cabinet door.
Mrs. Lynx whirled around and squinted at me. “Wait. Were you listening?”
My eyes got big and my hands shook. The bottle of brown paint dropped. Splat!
Brown paint splattered all over my tennis shoes.
And all over Mrs. Crux’s tennis shoes.
Even Mrs. Lynx’s barefoot shoes were w
et with brown splotches.
“Oh, I am sorry,” I cried.
Mrs. Crux shook her head at me and smiled, “No worries, mate. It’s just another Accidental Art. Aja, bring us some of that paper.” She pointed to large white sheets of paper.
Mrs. Crux and Mrs. Lynx and I walked all over the paper. I stayed behind Mrs. Lynx and made sure her phone never pointed at me. We made brown barefoot shoe prints and tennis shoe prints and smears. We thumbtacked the picture to the Accidental Art bulletin board. That made eleven Accidental Arts for me. But it was the first Accidental Art for Mrs. Crux and the first for Mrs. Lynx.
After that, they went to the teacher’s lounge to wash up their shoes. I washed my shoes at the sink in the art room.
“Ouch!”
I spun around to see who said that. Mary Lee stood by the supply cabinet shaking her hand and arm. “Something bit me.”
Bree and Aja Dalal rushed over to Mary Lee.
“What happened?” Bree said.
“What do you mean, ‘something bit you’?” Aja said.
“There!” Mary Lee pointed.
“That’s nothing,” Aja said. “Just a small brown spider. Hey, Kell,” he called to me, “did you spill brown paint on this spider?”
“Ha, ha,” I said, “Very funny.”
Aja took off his shoe and slammed it against the cabinet. “It’s dead now.”
I was not going close to that cabinet again. Because I do not like spiders, especially biting spiders.
Just then, the bell rang and it was time to go to the next class.
On the way out, Mary Lee said, “You forgot to bring me the silver paint.”
“Why did you need silver?”
“I wanted to paint an alien boy with a red nose and silver eyes,” she said. Then, she slapped my shoulder and left.
Wait. How does an Earth girl know that alien boys have silver eyes?
Kell, the Alien Page 4
