Here Comes Mr. Trouble

by Battles, Brett

Eric shook. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah. I was kind of impressed,” Keira said.

  He shook her hand, too.

  “If you want the car, it’ll be out at the abandoned farm,” Mr. Trouble said. “I’ll leave the keys under the seat. Oh, and there’s the truck, too. But that’s still over at the first camp.”

  “I think I’ll be fine without them.”

  “Your call.” He gave Eric a strong handshake. “Take care.”

  “I will.”

  Mr. Trouble and his sisters headed for the sedan. Halfway there, Keira stopped and turned back.

  “I forgot. I have something for you.” She walked back, pulled out her copy of Noriko’s Revenge #11, and handed it to him.

  “Seriously?” he said.

  She smiled. “Yeah. I’ve read it five times already.”

  “Thanks.”

  Fiona had already taken the front passenger seat so Keira climbed into the back. Mr. Trouble was still outside, standing next to the open driver’s door.

  “You still have the unicorn necklace, right?” he asked.

  Eric laughed. “Yes.”

  “Hold on to it. If anything comes up, and I seriously doubt anything will, you just give that a rub and one of us will get in contact with you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mr. Trouble gave him a wave, then hesitated.

  “And Eric.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stay out of trouble.”

  30

  Before leaving Maggie’s place, Eric cleaned up—folding his and the Trouble sisters’ blankets, throwing away the pizza boxes from the previous night, and washing the dishes they’d used. It was a good thing he did, too. They had all forgotten about the note Fiona had written. He threw that away and replaced it with one he wrote:

  Dear Mrs. Ortega,

  Thank you for dinner and letting me stay over. Forgot I had something to do with my parents this morning so I’m going home. Fiona and Keira had to leave, too. They said thanks.

  Tell Maggie I’ll see her on Monday.

  Eric

  When he arrived home, he checked to see if his mother was still in the bedroom. He’d had this crazy thought on the walk back that she’d been taken again. But she was there, still sleeping.

  He plopped down on his own bed and pulled out the copy of Noriko’s Revenge #11. His intention was to read it cover to cover, but he only got halfway through the second page when he fell fast asleep.

  When he finally got up, it was almost 1 p.m. He wandered into the living room and found his father sitting in his recliner, reading the paper.

  “There’s the sleepy head,” his father said. “Must be something going around. I didn’t get up until late, either.”

  Eric started to head into the kitchen to get a glass of water, then paused. “What about Mom?”

  “Your mother?” his dad said, looking confused.

  Eric stopped breathing, sure that his father was about to say his mother was still on a business trip.

  “All I know is, she was up before me.”

  “I just live in a house full of lazy men, that’s all there is to it.”

  Eric turned around. His mother had just come out of the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand.

  “Thirsty, sweetie?” she asked, holding it out to him.

  “Thanks.” After he took a sip, he said, “So how was the business trip?”

  “Business trip?” his mother asked. “What business trip?”

  “The one you’ve been on for the last four days?” he said tentatively.

  She put a hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

  He stared at her for a moment, and saw that she had no idea what he was talking about. His father seemed equally clueless so he forced out a laugh and said, “Just…kidding.”

  • • •

  When Eric went to school Monday morning, he couldn’t help but be nervous. Despite a wonderful weekend with his parents, the past two weeks had been complete disasters. It was hard to believe the theme wouldn’t continue. But his bike—which he and his dad had repaired on Sunday morning—held up just fine on the way to school, getting him there with plenty of time to get to his locker before class. And while the smell of orange soda still hung in the air, the janitorial staff had cleaned off what they could and had scraped most of the gum from his lock. His books weren’t in the best condition, but they’d had enough time to dry out so that was good enough for him.

  He was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, it was really over. Then he turned the corner and came face to face with Peter Garr.

  They stared at each other for a second. Then, before Eric could move out of the way, Peter said, “Sorry,” stepped around him and walked off.

  Eric was so shocked by the encounter he was almost late to class. But when he got to his desk Ms. Lindgren hadn’t even arrived yet.

  Maggie looked over from her seat. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” he replied.

  “So where are your friends?”

  “Gone.”

  “And what about your problems?”

  He shrugged. “Gone, too. I think.”

  She smirked and shook her head. “See, I told you they didn’t know what they were talking about.”

  There didn’t seem to be any sense in explaining how wrong she was, so he just said nothing.

  “I am glad things are better,” she said. She paused for a second. “Did those two girls even stay all night on Friday?”

  “Why?”

  “After I went to bed, Keira was in the bathroom, and I never heard her or Fiona come in. I was just thinking maybe they decided to go home.”

  “You don’t remember anything else?”

  She thought for a moment. “I had this weird dream about being in their car, but that was about it. Why? Did something happen I should know?”

  Eric almost laughed. “No. Nothing.”

  The final proof that the Makers were no longer affecting his life came during P.E.

  Basketballs were lined up once again at the end of the court.

  “Those drills went so well on Friday,” Coach Roberts said, “I thought we’d do them again.”

  The team Eric had been on before didn’t want him this time, so he joined a group of guys he’d hung out with in the past. Like on Friday, the line referee was someone from the girls’ P.E. class. Only this time, instead of Fiona and Keira, it was Maggie.

  The way things worked out, Eric ended up being the last person in his group. By the time his turn came, his team and the one he’d been part of on Friday were running neck and neck in first place.

  Tommy was their final runner. He had a two-second lead on Eric by the time they were both on the court.

  For their lap, the ball was at the far end so they had to pick it up and bring it back.

  Eric ran faster than he’d ever run. Though his team was in no danger of coming in last and having to do laps, he had no desire of coming in second, either. He wanted to beat Tommy.

  By the time they reached the balls, he had actually pulled ahead. He grabbed his basketball, touched his foot on the other side of the line, then began racing back to the finish. He’d gone only a few feet, though, when Maggie blew her whistle.

  He glanced over his shoulder, shocked that she would blow it on him when he’d done exactly what he was supposed to do.

  Only she wasn’t pointing at him.

  “Tommy Bird,” Coach Roberts called out. “Start your lap over!”

  Eric streaked ahead, a grin as big as the Rocky Mountains on his face.

  As he crossed the finish, his teammates started cheering and clapping him on the back.

  Life was definitely back on track.

  JOURNAL OF RONAN TROUBLE (MR. TROUBLE No. 10)

  BOOK 2

  Saturday, September 24th

  Aboard the Lady Candice flying home from Tobin, Colorado

  Case #3114 is complete, or at least that’s what the file will read. I’m not sure th
is case is even close to being done. No, I don’t think Eric Morrison, our client, is in danger of another Maker possession attempt. But I fear that something has changed with the Makers themselves.

  Without doing a thorough search through the records, we all believe this was the most intense case our family has ever encountered. I wish I could say I was at my best, but that would be a lie. I’m still trying to come to grips with filling Dad’s shoes, and I just don’t know if I’m ever going to be up to it. There were some things I should have anticipated that could have gone really wrong and, in fact, almost did.

  As always, I had a few minor spats with my sisters. But by the end of the project, we were pretty much on the same page. Fiona even told me after we took off that she thought I’d done a great job. Of course, she also said if I repeated that, she’d deny it. You gotta love sisters.

  About the job itself, I’m still in a bit of shock. The number of Makers involved in this attack (9) was something we had never seen before. We’ve established a new, worst-case ranking: MA3114.

  The question is, why this time? Why did they feel the need to work in such a large group? Was it Eric himself? Was he special? Definitely. He has something that kicks in when others are in trouble. I’m not talking about the normal tendency that candidates exhibit. I’m talking about actual, visible power. The first night in front of his friend Maggie’s house, for example, when he was able to physically make a surrogate leave Fiona alone, and then again the next day when he broke the spell of a talisman to help my sisters. We have never seen this before.

  As if that wasn’t enough, we also found an intact Maker’s box with its drawers still full. This is a first. The only boxes recovered in the past were empty. In this one, at least six of the drawers contained personal items belonging to our client, things he said he’d lost in the previous couple of weeks.

  The three top drawers were sealed. We’ve only opened one so far. Though it didn’t contain anything that belonged to Eric, it was not empty. What was inside is still to be determined. Uncle Colin and Uncle Carl were the only ones who saw the contents because they were wearing the specialized Maker detection goggles. We’re calling what they saw light discs, because that’s how Uncle Colin described them.

  We left the other two drawers sealed so we can open them in the lab back home, where we can hopefully contain whatever these discs are and study them. Uncle Carl says he has a theory about what the boxes are for but he’s unwilling to share it at this point. In my opinion, it has something to do with the transfer of the Maker into the candidate’s body. What? You got me.

  The other thing that happened has to do with the skill Eric revealed that I mentioned earlier.

  To this point in the Trouble family history, our job has always been to try to keep the Makers from increasing in number. Eric showed us something that would allow us to reduce how many of them there are. A full description of our encounter is in the report. It’s possible Eric’s the only one who can end a Maker possession like this. To test it would mean making a conscious choice of putting a client in potential danger. Whether to do that or not is something that we will have to consider very, very carefully.

  I’m tired and still somewhat dazed from the events that happened during the night. The thing that keeps poking at my mind, and has kept me from sleeping so far, is not being sure if this job was merely a single instance of increased Maker activity, or if it’s a sign of something more.

  I’ll hope for the first, and prepare for the last.

  If the Makers are truly getting more aggressive, life for us just got a whole lot harder.

  Ronan Trouble

  “I’m not sure what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like it’s enough. I am still worried, though. Not about me, but about you. Good luck. I think you might need it.”

  Eric, Colorado

  Copyright © 2011 by Brett Battles

  Cover art copyright © 2011 by Jeroen ten Berge

  All rights reserved.

  HERE COMES MR. TROUBLE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information about the author, please visit www.brettbattles.com.

  For more information about the artist, please visit www.jeroentenberge.com.