With her super strength, Daisy set to effortlessly tossing the hay bales around, arranging them to Piper’s specifications while Ahmed and Nalen hung the streamers from the rafters and Jasper and Violet blew up balloons until their heads felt dizzy.
And some things never changed—Kimber and Smitty showed up bickering. They bickered just as much as they ever did when Piper first met them at Dr. Hellion’s school. Smitty had just had a growth spurt and his mother had slapped a pair of braces on his teeth, but his X-ray vision was as sharp as ever. Sharp enough to sneak peeks at Kimber’s underwear, despite the electricity that Kimber wielded in her fingertips. Over the course of the last year Kimber’s wild red hair had mellowed into a rich auburn color and her freckles had faded to reveal milky-white skin that hinted at the striking young woman she would one day become. Which did not mean for a second that her wicked temper had in any way mellowed; indeed, she was just as hotheaded as she’d ever been.
Piper hugged them both gleefully. “Conrad didn’t see you come, did he?”
“No way. No one saw us,” Kimber reported confidently.
“The cows saw us,” Smitty corrected.
“Fine.” Kimber sighed irritably. “No one saw us who can talk. Jeez, do we have to fight about everything?”
The last and final member of their group to arrive was Lily Yakimoto, and she would have been there sooner but she had to fix her hair—twice. Lily was nine years old and prided herself on her spotless appearance. Her hair hung in ringlets, her shoes gleamed, and she allowed only the finest silk dresses to grace her delicate form. She often used her keen telekinetic powers to arrange the ribbons in her hair or to retie the hard-to-reach bow on her dress.
“Five minutes,” Piper warned in a loud whisper. “Conrad always comes in here before breakfast to check on his experiments.” She nodded to the center of the loft where Conrad had set up a makeshift science lab. Despite the fact that he’d cobbled together odds and ends of computers and other random high-tech equipment, which regularly had stray bits of hay raining down on them, the effect of the entire arrangement was strangely awe-inspiring—in a mad-scientist sort of way.
The finishing touches were completed with the balloons dangling from the walls and the streamers pinned on the hay and the rafters. Violet handed out party hats and blowers and then Piper ordered them into hiding places. As she crouched down in the hay, Piper held herself gleefully. Every pair of eyes rested on the barn door as they silently waited, ready to jump out.
“ACHOO!” A loud sneeze blasted through the barn.
Jumping up, Piper looked about. “Shhhhh!”
“ACHOO!”
Piper spotted Lily holding her two hands over her face and bending over. “ACHOO!”
“Lily, you have to be quiet!” Piper whispered frantically.
“I can’t—ACHOO—help it!” she whined. “This hay is—ACHOO—making me sneeze. ACHOO.”
“Maybe she’s a-allergic,” Myrtle whispered.
Piper had never considered this. “Are you allergic to hay?”
“ACHOO!” Lily’s eyes were running by this point and her face was getting red and puffy. She nodded her head miserably.
“Here.” Piper tossed Lily her sweater. “Sneeze as quietly as you can into this.”
“Someone’s coming,” Smitty warned, using his X-ray vision.
“Places, everyone,” Piper whispered.
Once again everyone crouched down and listened to the approaching footsteps. A moment later the barn door swung open.
“SURPRISE!” Piper shouted, jumping out and throwing brightly colored confetti. All around her the other children did likewise while Kimber used the electricity in her fingertips to create a sparkler effect.
“SURPRISE! SURPRISE!”
“Happy birthday!”
Standing before them, with the life near scared out of him, was none other than Piper’s father, Joe McCloud.
Now it was Piper’s turn to be surprised. “Pa? What are you doing here?”
Joe clutched his chest and took several steps back, using the wall for support. When he could gather himself he pointed to the bags of chicken feed stacked against the wall.
Piper’s shoulders fell. “Oh no, it’s Tuesday. Feed day.” Piper suddenly remembered that on Tuesdays Joe always collected the chicken feed he needed for the week.
“But where’s Conrad?” Kimber wanted to know.
“I’m right behind you,” Conrad said clearly.
At the sound of his voice all the children swiveled around to discover Conrad languidly leaning against the back wall with an amused smirk on his face. His blond hair was tousled and in need of a haircut, but the erect way he held himself and the precision with which he dressed belied his keen attention to detail. He was, without a doubt, the only person in the entire barn at that moment who wasn’t surprised. Poor Joe felt as though his life had just flashed before his eyes.
“Surprise,” Conrad said evenly.
Piper’s face sank. “You knew! How’d you know?”
“Simple,” Conrad said. “You didn’t eat your piece of apple pie last night.”
“You knew I was throwing a surprise birthday party because I didn’t eat my apple pie?”
“Of course. You didn’t eat because you were excited. I knew you were excited because of the way you wiggled your baby finger.” He demonstrated with his own baby finger. “And then there was the purple marker on your hands. Obviously you’d been making something—but you don’t usually do crafts. Which meant there was a special reason that you were doing them, and the only thing special that was going on was my birthday. It was pretty obvious.”
Piper shook her head and sat down hard on a hay bale. “You’re impossible.”
“Sorry.” He nodded to Lily and tossed her a box of allergy medicine. “Take two of them now and then two in another four hours.”
“You knew Lily was allergic to hay too?” Piper was not only disappointed now but also exasperated.
“Of course. Didn’t you?” Conrad paused. “But the one thing I couldn’t figure out was how you knew it was my birthday. I never told any of you, nor do you have access to any information that would tell you. So how’d you find out?”
Piper smiled, triumphant.
“Well?” Conrad waited on her answer.
Suddenly a lone voice started singing “Happy Birthday.” Conrad looked about, surprised. A cake with twelve candles brightly burning on top appeared from around the corner of a stack of hay. It floated through the air, heading straight for Conrad.
Jumping to her feet, Piper clapped and sang. The other kids joined in.
“Happy birthday to you!”
As the cake approached, a man began to materialize so that all could see that the cake was not floating but was being held in his hands. He was not a young man but somewhere in his middle years. Now that he was visible it was possible to see that he was wearing fatigue pants and a black T-shirt. He had the intense look of a harried soldier but for the moment a smile was on his lips.
“J.,” said Conrad, recognizing him; he was surprised but not happy. “I should have known.”
CHAPTER
3
“My moon and stars, what’s going on here?” gasped Betty McCloud. She’d been feeding the chickens when she heard the commotion and arrived at the barn just as Conrad was blowing out the candles. Her startled eyes couldn’t make sense of the gathered kids, a strange man holding a cake, and Joe with his face as white as a sheet.
“It’s Conrad’s birthday, Ma,” Piper chirped excitedly. “We’re surprising him and I didn’t want to tell you in case he found out.”
Birthdays were serious business for Betty. “Lands’ sakes, child, your birthday? Why didn’t you tell us?” She bustled about, giving kids hugs and reaching for Conrad. “I’d best get a birthday breakfast on for you youngens and we’ll need ice cream to go with this cake.” She took the cake out of J.’s hands and headed for the house, gathering up the kids like a c
lucking mother hen corralling her unruly and overexcited chicks. Piper was in the middle of the clutch when she noticed that Conrad and J. were off by themselves talking quietly. The hard lines brewing around Conrad’s mouth told Piper that they were not enjoying a joyous reunion.
“Who asked you to butt in?” Piper heard Conrad say in a low voice.
“I’m not butting in,” J. said defensively. “I’m just looking out for you and Piper. I check in from time to time to make sure that you’re doing all right. That’s it.”
Conrad turned to Piper, who was now nervously standing between them as though she was anticipating the need to break up a fight. “J.’s been visiting you? And you didn’t tell me?”
Piper’s cheeks flamed red. “J. came a few times. Maybe three or four,” she stammered.
J. had the ability to make himself invisible and was always off on some crusade or another. He had tried to rescue Piper when Letitia Hellion had first come to take her away and then again from the school. But despite his extraordinary ability, J. was no match for Dr. Hellion. Piper had a soft spot for J.’s frantic, intense ways and his clandestine comings and goings. Conrad, on the other hand, had no such soft feelings and regarded J. and his lone-wolf ways with suspicion at best and outright hostility at worst, which was why it wasn’t exactly a priority for Piper to “mention” J.’s unexpected visits.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Piper said.
Conrad snorted at her lame excuse and turned back to J. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
J. threw his hands up. “It’s not exactly top secret information.”
“And it’s not exactly common knowledge, either. Are you spying on me?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” J. chose his words carefully and spoke them slowly.
“Then what would you say?”
J. considered what to tell Conrad. J.’s life was about things that were hidden, and he traded on who knew what and when. He had been a small boy when he learned that he could make himself invisible, and on that first day of wondrous invisibility he had sat in the kitchen quietly watching his mother do the dishes. She was unaware that he was close by, and he marveled at the simple act of observing her unseen. All of a sudden for no reason that he could see she stopped doing the dishes and started to cry. It was a gut-wrenching cry that she managed to achieve without making any sound whatsoever, as though it was something she had long practiced. J. was shocked that his mother had such a deep sadness inside of her and had never guessed she was hiding it from him and the rest of his family. Less than a minute later his father and sister had returned home and his mother resumed washing the dishes as though nothing at all was the matter. J.’s mother was a revelation to him. She was keeping secrets from those she loved most, and it soon became clear to J. that everyone was keeping secrets. Most of the secrets were small, inconsequential things, but some of the secrets were big and important.
From that day forward J. watched from the shadows, collecting information and looking for hidden truths. The older he got, the more he watched and the deeper the truths he followed. Just recently he had realized that Piper and Conrad were connected in some way to a mystery, and he made it his mission to find out how and why.
With a deep sigh, J. decided to tell Conrad none of this and answered his angry question with a shrug.
“Spying is a strong word,” J. said.
“That’s not an answer!” Conrad pressed.
“It was me,” Piper confessed quickly before things escalated further. “I was worried about you because of the election. All you do is work in your lab and listen to the election coverage, and I asked J. if he knew anything about it.”
“You?” Conrad was dismayed. “The election?”
A new president was about to be elected, and for the last year Senator Harrington had been mounting an impressive presidential bid. The closer the election came the more Conrad had watched and listened to the things his father did and said. Seeing the way Conrad watched his father had made Piper worried for some reason she couldn’t exactly pinpoint.
“I saw the way you were looking at your father on the television and so I asked J. to find out about him.” Piper swallowed hard. “And I guess I thought that if he became president you’d want to go home, and I didn’t want you to go.”
“You make no sense, Piper. This is my home now.”
“Really? You mean it?”
“Really. Unless, of course, you drive me crazy, which at this moment presents itself as a distinct possibility.”
Piper’s relief turned into a smile and she slugged Conrad’s shoulder good-naturedly. “C’mon, who doesn’t like a birthday party? It’s fun!”
“If you say so.” Conrad allowed himself a half-smile.
As the tension dispersed J. pulled a file from his backpack. “This is for you.” He offered Conrad the file.
Conrad made no move to take it. “What is it?”
“Consider it a birthday gift. It’s the information Piper asked me to get on your father. You need to read it.” J. stood with the file outstretched.
“No, thanks.”
“Your father is not who he says he is,” J. said quietly, as though he might be overheard.
“My father’s secrets don’t concern me anymore.”
“If you say so.” J.’s tone plainly communicated the opposite message.
“But Conrad,” Piper pleaded, taking the file out of J.’s hand and offering it to him, “take it. It might be important.”
“Do you even know his name?” Conrad pointed at J.
Piper shrugged. “His name is J.”
“J. is not a name; ‘J’ is a letter.” Conrad spoke to Piper but glared at J. “And we know nothing about him or where he’s from or what he does or knows. Because he won’t tell us. How do we know he’s not hiding something from us?”
“Because … because,” Piper stuttered, “because he’s J.”
“That’s not good enough for me,” Conrad snapped. “And this is my birthday party and I’m supposed to be eating cake and acting happy. So if you’ll excuse me—” Conrad turned on his heel and marched out of the barn, leaving J. and Piper in the wake of the awkwardness of the exchange.
“I guess he doesn’t like surprises,” Piper offered, her cheeks pink. “I’ll give this to him later.” She tucked the file beneath her arm. “I know he’ll appreciate it when he’s not so … well, so Conrad.”
J. sighed and gathered his things, hoisting his backpack over his shoulders. “You can lead a horse to water—”
“—but you can’t make it drink,” Piper finished.
J. headed for the door, Piper hot on his heels.
“You’re leaving? Already? Can’t you stay longer?” Piper pressed him. “Don’t you want cake?”
“There are urgent matters.” J. strode purposefully into the farmyard. “I have a source and this time I think I’m getting close.”
“You mean to finding out about that secret place where everyone is like us?” Piper asked excitedly and perhaps too loudly.
“Shhhhh.”
“Sorry.” J. had been telling her for months that he was hot on the trail of information that was leading him to a hidden community of people who were all exceptional. It was thrilling to think about.
“Will you tell me when you know?” Piper whispered.
J. was already turning himself invisible, but Piper was able to see him tip his head. “You’ll be hearing from me soon.”
CHAPTER
4
Conrad’s birthday breakfast was a higgledy-piggledy affair. With eleven youngens packed around the McClouds’ breakfast table telling jokes and jostling elbows for greater room while reaching over one another to get at the hot blueberry muffins, crisp bacon, cheesy omelets, hotcakes, and waffles it was a mercy no one was maimed, or worse. At one point little Jasper, who normally didn’t make a peep, laughed so hard at a joke of Smitty’s (“What’s the last thing that goes through a bug’s mind when he
hits a windshield? His butt!”) that he went red in the face, brayed like a donkey, and snorted egg out of his nose. This, in turn, caused such hilarity that Kimber gave herself a jolt of electricity and Daisy accidentally broke her chair into bits when she burped unexpectedly—and in an alarmingly smelly way. When everyone had finally calmed down and eaten more than they could possibly hold, Betty served cake and ice cream and shooed them away and told them to play outside, and for heaven’s sake not to cause any more mischief.
Next, Piper gathered everyone around Conrad on the porch for presents. Conrad proceeded to shake each of the strangely shaped objects and pointedly guess, in a hopeful way, that they might contain weapons-grade plutonium for his time machine. To which everyone rolled their eyes and assured him that no one was going to give him plutonium for his birthday. Conrad pretended to be disappointed but dug into his gifts with good humor.
Lily gave Conrad a silk tie, which was met with groans that she stubbornly ignored as she loudly explained how it was the very latest fashion from Paris. Ahmed and Nalen whipped up a small windstorm that tidily snatched the tie away in the hopes of putting an end to Lily’s fashion lesson. Undaunted, Lily telekinetically retrieved the precious tie while at the same time “accidentally” tipping the Mustafa brothers’ drinks into their laps (which was Lily’s way of politely reminding them not to mess with her or, and perhaps more important, a fashionable silk tie).
Violet gave Conrad an extremely rare coin that she had dug up in her latest archaeological adventure. But it was Myrtle’s present that caused an uproar. On one of her recent jaunts across the globe Myrtle had stumbled across a pygmy rhinoceros. He was a box-shaped creature no larger than a football, and Myrtle had clumsily wrapped him in a package so that when Conrad opened it, startling him out of his nap, he immediately chomped down on Conrad’s fingers.
The Boy Who Knew Everything Page 2
