The Drake Equation

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The Drake Equation Page 3

by Bart King


  Before I could explain, she took the puck from my hand and peered at its screen. “Dead batteries,” she said dismissively, tossing it onto Jason’s bed.

  But I could see that the disc’s green screen was still brightly lit. To check, I reached over and tapped the pulsing ball icon. And a list of options dropped down. “It’s not dead at all.” I held the glittering disc up for Jenny to see. “Check out the pulldown menu.”

  Jenny squinted at the screen. “Right,” she scoffed. “It must be a ‘pulling-my-leg menu,’ because nothing’s there. Seriously, what is that thing, anyway?”

  “Noah’s been busy,” said Jason. He’d escaped from the pile of towels and was folding them into stacks. “Since school got out, he’s discovered a magic puck and a new kind of bird.”

  “I didn’t discover a bird. I just spotted one that might be really important,” I argued. “And this isn’t my puck—I found it in Noyd Woods. Someone must have lost it.”

  Jenny pursed her lips. “Well, if that thing’s lost, and if you can really read its menu, then look up ice.”

  “And how is frozen water going to help?” I asked.

  Jenny and Jason smiled at each other. Their smile said We know something you don’t know.

  I hate that smile.

  “You’d know,” scolded Jenny, “if your parents would just break down and get you a cell phone.”

  “Yeah,” added Jason. “Take a break from the birds and learn about our species. We humans know that ‘ice’ stands for In Case of Emergency.”

  Oh!

  This sort of thing happened all the time. Although the twins complain about it, I think they like explaining things like this to me. After all, everyone wants to feel like an expert about something, right?

  “That thing’s owner might’ve listed her contact info there,” said Jenny. “So, all you have to do is choose ICE on the menu. If it gives you an e-mail or phone number, just tell the person that you’ve got her…sparkly thing.”

  I looked down at the purple-green puck and tapped the ball icon. The menu dropped down again, but it was totally confusing—just a jumble of words, and even as I read them, some words disappeared while new ones slid into their place. But at least they seemed to be listed alphabetically.

  “So, Noah, unless you’re faking your magical ability to read the screen,” instructed Jenny, “just go to the letter I.”

  Scrolling, I saw she was right. There it was: ICE.

  “Got it!” I said. “I’ll check it later.”

  “Don’t be such a chicken, Noah,” said Jason. “Do it now. I mean, there might be a reward!”

  Jenny smiled. “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to do the right thing unless money was involved.”

  I looked at the purple-green puck glittering in my hand. What I really wanted to do was get home and report my black swift sighting to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. But it’s hard to say no to the twins—so I almost never do.

  Still, I hesitated as I held my thumb over the oval screen. This doesn’t feel right. I remembered how I’d felt someone was watching me in the nature preserve. And I remembered how I’d wanted to just leave this thing where I found it.

  “Do it!” urged Jason.

  “And stop slouching,” added Jenny.

  Fine. Throwing my shoulders back, I pressed ICE. Nothing. I tried tapping the stem on the side. That did it—now my selection was blinking on the screen:

  ICE

  ICE

  ICE

  And another domino fell.

  “I DON’T REALLY GET WHAT IT’S DOING,” I said, showing the puck’s flashing screen to the twins.

  “It’s not doing anything,” said Jason. “It’s blank.”

  “Why are you being so weird?” asked Jenny.

  Confused, I double-checked the screen.

  ICE

  ICE

  ICE

  It WAS flashing.

  Scratching the scar on my arm, I glanced out at the backyard sprinkler. I was trying to do a good deed, but I just didn’t like talking on the phone much, even with friends. And even if I did get hold of this thing’s owner, what would I say?

  “Hi, did you lose a squished puck covered in glitter? You know, a thing shaped like a pancake with a secret screen that only some people can read? If you did, then I found it. The puck, I mean. Under a bush.”

  Awk-ward. I looked at the twins and shrugged—and as I did, the iridescent puck vibrated slightly in my hand.

  Is it my imagination, I wondered, or is this thing cooling off?

  “What is it?” asked Jenny. She’d noticed my flinch.

  It wasn’t my imagination—the purple-green puck was getting cold. It was SO cold, my hand was cold, too. Really cold. A chill radiated from the disc to my hand—and then it raced up my forearm. The cold took the turn at my elbow fast, and leaped up my upper arm to my shoulder.

  I yelped and jumped to my feet. From my shoulder, icicles crept into my chest—and now an icy finger was reaching up my neck, stabbing deep inside my skull! The frosty feeling spread fast, into my mouth and face.

  I tried to speak, but my tongue was thick and my teeth were aching, like I’d eaten way too much ice cream, way too fast. All I got out was “Datz COLD.”

  “Dude, what IS it?” asked Jason.

  I tried to speak clearly. “Hrain hreeze.”

  The twins stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Hrain hreeze!” I shouted, pointing at my head.

  What is going on? I tried to calm down. Everyone knows that brain freezes always go away. Just relax and think warm thoughts, I told myself. I gazed out the window and focused on the hot sun sparkling off the pool’s water—

  I began to shiver and shake. I was FREEZING.

  “Something’s wrong,” Jenny said. “Noah, let go of that thing!”

  I tried to open my hand to drop the puck, but it was too late—my fingers were frozen shut around it. All I could do was mindlessly shake my hand up and down.

  Jason stepped forward and grabbed my hand.

  “Whoa, he IS frozen!” My friend pried my fingers apart, and the purple-green puck fell to the bed. Jenny spun around, grabbed it, and juggled the disc like a hot potato—or a really cold one.

  “How do I hang up?” she squeaked. “I pushed the little knob on the side and the screen closed. Did that help?”

  NO!

  Desperate for warmth, I grabbed a striped towel off the warm laundry on the bed. Quickly I wrapped it around my head; Jason pulled a puffy down jacket from his closet floor and threw it over my shoulders.

  Jenny pointed out the window. “Noah, go outside to warm up!”

  Good idea! Lunging out of Jason’s bedroom, I ran down the hall and outside to the backyard patio.

  A war was waging inside my body—I was deeply chilled, but I was so panicked, my body was sweating. As I stood there, in a cold sweat on the hot bricks, a large green ball floated over the fence and splashed in the Brights’ swimming pool.

  “I’ll get it!” rang out a chorus of high voices, followed by scrabbling sounds. Then tiny hands began popping up on top of the fence.

  The preschoolers were fearlessly storming the yard to get their ball back. But before the assault could work, the little hands started disappearing. Mrs. Damaschino must have been plucking them off the fence, one after another.

  Meanwhile, I tried taking some deep breaths. Despite the sunshine, the jacket, and the beach towel on my head, I wasn’t thawing out—instead, the brain freeze was reaching deeper into my chest and moving down my belly and into my other arm. Looking at my scar, I saw the sweat on my skin turn into tiny ice crystals.

  Jenny and Jason appeared on either side of me. “Try to relax,” said Jenny, as if she were babysitting me. “Just chill out.”

  I tried to say “That’s the LAST thing I should do!” But all that came out was a frozen croak: “Dazdastingdoodoo!”

  “He’s delirious!” cried Jason.

  Now the brain freeze ha
d sunk to my waist.

  What if I get butt freeze? I thought. I’ll DIE. My fear built to a breaking point, and I raised my cold hands to my freezing face.

  “Is there any way you can just…let it out?” exhorted Jason.

  I was willing to try anything. I pointed my freezing fists at the green ball floating in the swimming pool. And I watched as a blue-white bolt of something poured out of my fists—

  CLINK!

  We all froze.

  I mean, nobody moved.

  Jenny and Jason looked at each other, their mouths making round Os. As for me, although my shocked brain barely registered it, I could already feel warmth returning to my body.

  I unwrapped the beach towel from my head while Jenny moved over to the pool. She looked at the green ball. It wasn’t bobbing up and down anymore. Jenny frowned and looked at the water. She eased over to the ramp that she used to get into the swimming pool and reached down to touch the water’s surface with her knuckles.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Jenny looked back at me.

  “Noah,” she said, “you just froze our pool.”

  “What?” I said. “Very funny.” But the green ball still hadn’t moved.

  Jason walked over. Gingerly, he put his toe on the surface of the water. Then his foot.

  Then his other foot.

  The pool held Jason’s weight. He stepped out onto the pool, turned on the ice, and looked at me with wide eyes.

  “You froze our pool,” Jason whispered unbelievingly. He hopped a little on the ice and looked down. “You froze our pool solid.” He looked up. “How’d you do that?”

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jenny rolled over to me and grinned. “This is the greatest day of my life!”

  THE THREE OF US STARED FEARFULLY AT THE PUCK. It lay where I’d dropped it on Jason’s bed, glittering innocently next to his paintball helmet.

  I was warmer now, but I still shivered just looking at it. “What. Just. Happened?”

  “You messed around with that…thing,” said Jenny, ticking off the events on her fingers. “You freaked out. And you wrapped your head in a towel and ran outside yelling.”

  “And then,” continued Jason, “you froze our swimming pool.”

  Jenny gave a little shrug. “But other than that, I didn’t see anything weird.”

  We all laughed and sounded a little hysterical.

  I shrugged off Jason’s down jacket while Jenny gingerly picked the purple-green puck up from the bed. “It’s so small,” she said. “Did we just dream that whole thing?”

  On cue, we all looked out the window. The frozen surface of the pool was already melting in the heat. And as we watched, a small iceberg surfaced, gently spun in the sunshine, and fell over with a splash.

  “I guess not.” I pointed at the puck. “But how? Why? What is that thing?” (I almost added Could it be magic? but thought better of it.)

  Jenny carefully set the purple-green disc back down. “It must be from a tech company or something. Like somehow this prototype from the research department got lost, and then you found it.”

  “Lost in the middle of the woods?” asked Jason skeptically. “More likely that thing was planted there. And I’ll bet it wasn’t a tech company that did that, but some reality show. I mean, please, someone must be pranking us.” He slyly looked out the window. “Noah, their cameras are probably out there right now. C’mon, let’s see if you can get that puck to work again!”

  Is he serious?

  “You might have missed it, Jason, but I almost froze to death just now! Whatever that thing is and wherever it came from, it’s dangerous. Very dangerous.”

  But Jason wasn’t convinced. “Look, we already have flamethrowers that shoot flames. What’s such a big deal about something that shoots ice?”

  “Jason,” I said, my voice rising, “did you miss the part where the ice came out of my HANDS?”

  He nodded grudgingly. “Good point.”

  Jenny turned around to look at me. “Look, Noah, we got caught by surprise that time. But now we know what to expect. Plus, this thing might be able to do other, safer things.”

  I couldn’t believe my still-chilly ears. “Thumbs-down. Why aren’t you guys more freaked-out by this?”

  “Um, because it’s cool?!” Jason looked surprised, then grinned. “Hey, I made a joke and wasn’t even trying!”

  “What if our science teacher, Mrs. Sanchez, were here?” coaxed Jenny. “I’ll bet you’d agree with what she said. After all, you worship the ground she walks on.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” I said. “I just like it.”

  Jason moved a foam football off the chair by his desk and sat down. “Well, when you marry Mrs. Sanchez, don’t forget to invite me.”

  “How could I? You’re going to be the Worst Man.”

  Jason gave me an appreciative nod. “Nice one! Well, I’ll bet Mrs. Sanchez would say we should run a controlled experiment.” He swiveled in the chair and glanced at Jenny, as if they were a tag team.

  “And what about Anemona?” Jenny asked. “I bet if your favorite little airhead—I mean, redhead—asked, you’d experiment with the puck in a heartbeat.”

  I glared at her. Jenny knew my weak spot, and her name is as unique as the girl herself—Anemona Hartliss.

  How can I describe Anemona? Just think of the best-looking, most popular girl at your school. Now imagine her better.

  ANEMONA HARTLISS (Gorgias magnificens)

  APPEARANCE: Stunning.

  VOICE: Clear, and silvery.

  SMELL: Anemona leaves behind the scent of lilacs. (Or honeysuckle. Whatever.)

  PLUMAGE: Emerald-green eyes. Soft red hair the color of autumn leaves.

  RANGE: Found in classrooms and at the popular table at lunch. Impulsive behavior can sometimes lead to odd locations. (Ex.: In fifth grade P.E., Anemona shimmied up a column and waved hello to the teacher from the gym’s roof.) After school, patterns are mysterious.

  SOCIAL BEHAVIOR: Will flock with large groups, but also known to be a free bird.

  SIMILAR SPECIES: None.

  STATUS: Not endangered, but one-of-a-kind.

  Last year, I learned a bitter lesson in our school cafetorium.(You know, the cafeteria/auditorium?) That was where I made the mistake of telling Jason about my crush on Anemona.3 See, Jason was talking about his two favorite topics: soccer and himself. “So that header was my second goal of the match….”

  But my attention was on Anemona. There she was, three tables over, with her mega-popular friends, Mindy Grimsley and Beth Partridge. As I watched, Mindy said something funny, and Anemona laughed, tossing back her mane of flaming-red hair.

  My heart twinged. What if I could make Anemona laugh like that? Would she toss her hair for me?

  Jason’s eyes followed my gaze. “Oh, I see what’s going on here,” he said. “So, even people from your planet have feelings, huh?”

  “What?” I said innocently. I tried to keep my face expressionless—no way did I want Jason knowing about this.

  “I have to admit you have good taste,” said Jason. “Mindy is super cute.” And then he looked over at the girls’ table—and waved. Mindy and Beth both looked over. And to my horror, Jason kept waving.

  “Jason,” I hissed. “Stop that!”

  Mindy was drinking from a straw. As she spotted Jason, she looked like she wanted to blow a poison dart out of her straw and into his neck. Then she and Beth made barfing faces and turned their attention back to Anemona. As for Jason, he wasn’t discouraged. “Did you see Mindy? Sorry, Noah, but your girlfriend just fell in love with me,” he said. “But Mindy doesn’t want to face it yet, so I’m going to give her a little time.”

  To keep Jason on the wrong track, I played along. “Yeah, I can tell Mindy has feelings for you,” I said sincerely. “Feelings of hate and disgust.”

  And then Anemona stood, and my eyes were drawn to her like magnets. Again, Jason
caught me looking.

  “Wait, you like Anemona?” he exclaimed. “I’m impressed. Way to set your sights high, son. Also? You’re nuts.”

  I gave a sad sigh. See, I was old enough then to know the way of the world—nobody likes the person who likes them. But I couldn’t deny my feelings anymore. “Okay, Jason, you’re right. But you have to swear not to tell anyone!”

  “Don’t worry, Noah. Trust me; I’ll keep your secret safe.” Jason tore his eyes away from Mindy. “Now where was I? Oh, next the referee gave me a yellow card for arguing calls—”

  The next day, at the start of English class, Jenny came over to my desk. “I wonder if Anemona likes bird-watching?” she said innocently.

  I blushed furiously.

  I mean, I blushed and I was furious.

  “I think she might be kind of into it,” added Jenny, now smirking.

  Did you see how long Jason lasted with my secret? Not even one day.

  But we all have our weaknesses. For example, Superman’s strength is weakened by kryptonite. And Jason’s ability to keep a secret is weakened by anyone who talks to him.

  * * *

  As the Brights’ swimming pool melted, I knew Jenny was just name-checking Anemona to get me to use the iridescent puck again.

  “No way I’m touching that thing,” I insisted, sticking my hands under my armpits to warm them up.

  “Look, you’re still cold!” Jenny said. “There must be some of that ‘freezing energy’ stuck inside you. So I’ve got an idea. And for it, all we have to do is go into the kitchen. You won’t even have to touch that…” She pointed at the glittering disc. “Wait, what do we call this thing?”

  I shrugged. “The puck?”

  “Fine,” said Jenny, gesturing to the door. “Shall we?”

  Now here’s the thing—like her brother, Jenny also went through a big change after the accident two years ago. Going from an active lifestyle to a wheelchair was part of it. But while Jenny grew more private about some things, she also spoke her mind more. A lot more. And now what Jenny says goes.

  Plus, my thawing brain couldn’t think of an argument against her plan. So I reluctantly nodded. Jason whooped happily and ran out, with Jenny right behind. I grabbed another towel from the laundry pile and followed.

 

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