In Todd We Trust

by Louise Galveston

  “Yeah.” It had taken me a while to come around to Duddy’s new buds, but now they were my buds, too. I looked over my shoulder at the pair I used to call the Dork Duo. Instead of their usual karate slashing, they walked away from Wakefield solemnly, like they were going to a funeral. Or more accurately, like they’d been spared from going to one. Wendell gave me one last Saki Salute as they headed in the other direction, down the street toward his house.

  For real, those guys were growing on me.

  When we turned onto our street, Olympia Avenue, Duddy grabbed my shoulder and said seriously, “Listen, Todd, I should really thank you for saving my life.”

  “You already did,” I reminded him. “About a million times. Said you owed me a nacho mountain at Dave and Buster’s, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Duddy nodded. “Man, I love nachos.” Then he paused, looking at his shoes and taking a deep breath. When he looked back up at me, his expression was dead serious. “So, uh, almost dying was kind of weird. My life didn’t flash before my eyes or anything. But I did think two things: One, what will happen to my ant farm? And two, at least Max won’t be able to kill me in gym class, because I’ll already be dead.” He giggled at his own joke.

  But I didn’t laugh. “Actually, Max won’t have to take gym anymore either, since he’s on the team with me.” I shuddered.

  Duddy shot me a sympathetic look and cleared his throat. “Hey! Speaking of, well, exercise, have you heard about the big dance at the community center?”

  “No. Who cares about that?”

  Duddy gave me kind of a sheepish look and started talking überfast. “Well, Ike and Wendell are planning on going. They said it’s open to any kids who live in Wakefield, and it’s this Friday, so I thought maybe we should go, too.”

  “I dunno, Dudster. I’ve never been to a dance before. I don’t even know how to dance.” Don’t want to learn either.

  “You breakdance!” Duddy said excitedly. “You’ve got awesome moves, Todd.”

  This was getting weird. “I can do the Worm. Kind of.” I swallowed hard. I’d promised to teach the young Toddlians how to breakdance and had completely forgotten.

  “Earth-to-Todd,” Duddy said in a robot voice. “Come-in-Todd. Do-you-read-me?” When I didn’t respond, Duddy took a big breath and said quickly, “Remember when I said I thought about two things when I was drowning? Well, actually there were three. Can I ask you something real important?”

  I blinked at him. What was he saying? I looked around and saw we’d walked past my house and were right in front of Lucy’s place. “Oh, hey! Hold that thought. I have to run in there and pick up the Toddlians.”

  By this point I was halfway up the driveway, but Duddy was still on the sidewalk. I turned to see what was wrong with him. His face said it all.

  “Look, Dud, if you have to go that bad I’m sure Mrs. P won’t mind if you use their bathroom.” He was hopping back and forth on one foot, and his face was screwed up like he was about to explode. Duddy’d drunk a lot of pool water. I didn’t want to clean up that mess. “C’mon, I’ll ask her for you. She’s nice. Totally bizarre, but nice.”

  Duddy skittered up the drive, still contorting his face. “Everything’s cool,” he said with a little shake.

  “Are you gonna hurl?” I asked. “You could use the bathroom for that, too.”

  “Naw,” he said in a helium-high voice. “Everything’s cool.”

  Wow, he was being weird. But it was Duddy. Maybe nearly dying had made him even stranger than normal.

  I rang the doorbell, and Lucy let us in. “Hey, Todd!” she said about half an inch from my face. “I’m really glad to see you.”

  “Uh, I think Duddy here—”

  “Oh, hi, Duddy!” Lucy said, pulling him inside. “Great to see you, too! It’s a party!” She snort-giggled, and I glanced at Duddy, whose face had turned fuchsia. Fluffy, the Pedotos’ hairless cat, came up to us and rubbed our legs with his weird naked body. Duddy bent over to pet him. The cat hissed and shot off into the living room.

  “He’s fickle,” Lucy explained as she led us down the hall. “Fluffy wanted to mark you with his scent, but he didn’t like being touched back. He feels patronized, I think.”

  “I didn’t know cats could be patriotic,” Duddy blurted, and then blushed like he wished he’d never said it.

  I chuckled awkwardly, and so did Lucy. Duddy just walked into Lucy’s room and sat on the edge of her bed, shaking his head.

  “Um, how are the Toddlians?” I asked.

  Lucy gave me a big grin. “Well, let me show you! Todd, welcome to Wee Peeps Wellness Center, or WPWC for short! Just look at this exercise equipment I made for the Toddlians today. A stationary bicycle made out of paper clips, some weights from a toothpick and pencil erasers, a treadmill … Now Toddlandia can have its very own gym!” Lucy laid the WPWC on her desk and handed me a set of micro-glasses.

  I put them on and bent to eye level with the WP Whatever. Some of the Toddlians cheered when they saw me. Lewis was jogging on a rubber-band treadmill that was powered by Persephone turning a tiny toothpick handle.

  “That way they both get the benefit of exercise.” Lucy said. “Cardio for him, upper body for her. Cool, huh?”

  I nodded. Creating the gym had probably taken Lucy all day. Meanwhile I hadn’t even found time to teach the little guys the Worm. “Hi, Lewis! How’s the workout?” I asked, hoping he was having fun, at least.

  He hopped off the treadmill and bowed. “Hail … Great Todd … live forever,” he panted. “Lewis is … so glad to … see you are well. I’ve been … lifting weights!” He grunted and struck a muscleman pose. Persephone whistled, and I cracked up.

  “Howdy, Persephone!” I said. “Didja miss me?” But she didn’t answer, just stomped to the edge of the gym and scowled at me like she’d been guzzling sugarless lemonade.

  Now what have I done? I just got here, for crying out loud. Girls made no sense whatsoever.

  Lucy proved it by pulling me to her window and whispering, “Todd, I’m worried about the Toddlians … and you.” She leaned in so close our foreheads nearly touched. “Are you certain you wouldn’t like me to take the Toddlians for a while? Or we could set up the camera on your laptop so you could check on them remotely. I could, too, for that matter. Then, if they were in distress I could run over and assist them.”

  I stepped back. “You mean spying? No! That’s … that’s insane. This isn’t 1984! There are laws against that kind of thing, Lucy!”

  Lucy arched her black eyebrows and said excitedly, “You’re an Orwell fan too? Wasn’t 1984 amazing? He was such a visionary!”

  “Wait, 1984 is a book?” I asked. “I just thought there was a lot of spying and stuff in the year 1984. You know, because people always say that …” I shut up before I sounded any stupider. “Anyway,” I said, picking up the shoebox, “I’ll just take them home now. Thanks for babysitting.” I fit the gym inside the box and grabbed the slipper off her bed.

  Lucy grabbed my arm and leaned in close, like she was telling me a secret. Duddy made a weird noise, causing us both to look up.

  He looked all pink and uncomfortable. “Uh, excuse me. I … sneezed.”

  I’d never heard Duddy sneeze like that, but whatever. Lucy turned back to me. “Yanno, Todd, I can’t help thinking that the Toddlians need to further their educations—be exposed to learned people. Herman, for example—”

  “And by ‘learned’ you mean yourself?” I stepped back.

  “Mm-hmm. Well, no, not merely myself. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like you weren’t capable … I just think they need their horizons broadened. They need to meet philosophers and scientists—”

  “No!” I yelled, causing her to flinch. “Are you crazy? That’s the last thing the Toddlians need. The only way to keep them safe is to keep them hidden. You, Duddy, me, Max, and those stupid eighth graders Spud and Dick, who’ve hopefully forgotten about them by now—those are the only people who can know
that they exist, and that’s already way too many people! Nobody else can find out. Got it?”

  “Okay, I got it, I got it.” Lucy sighed.

  Duddy glanced up at me, then studied his shoes and turned pink again. Gee, thanks, Dud. What was up with him? I set the Toddlians gently on Lucy’s desk and plopped down next to him on the bed.

  Lucy still looked confused, but I wasn’t about to budge. “The Toddlians are my responsibility,” I said, “and I have to protect them from outsiders.” I’d learned that much, at least.

  Nobody said anything for a minute. I had to break the awkward silence. Then I remembered … “So, Duddy,” I said, turning to him, “what was that big, important question you wanted to ask me outside?”

  He stared at me in horror, his face so red it was almost purple. “I … have no idea what you’re talking about, Todd.”

  “Sure, you remember,” I helped. “You said there was a third thing you thought of in the pool, but you didn’t tell it to me at first and—”

  “No I didn’t!” he squeaked. “You must have been hearing things.” He looked desperately at Lucy. “Todd must have water in his ears, because I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “Duddy,” Lucy said gently, “are you feeling okay?”

  “I feel fine!” he squealed as he jumped up. “But I have to go now … and, erm … feed my ants! Yeah. Poor little guys are probably starving. Bye!”

  Duddy was down the hall and had slammed the front door before either Lucy or I could say anything. I shrugged and looked at her. “Well, that was weird.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s also potentially dangerous. I’m afraid he’s overfeeding those ants.” Lucy put her face right next to my ear. “Did Duddy say you are suffering from a little Otitis externa? Because a mixture of fifty percent alcohol and fifty vinegar would probably dry that right up. I can mix it up and drop it in for you. Of course, suction helps as well. Hmmm. Why don’t you lie down on your side—”

  “NO!” I shouted, jumping up. “Thanks and everything, but I need to grab the Toddlians and get home. I brought some sweaty socks from gym class today that I’m sure they’d love to gorge themselves on.” I carefully placed the Toddlians back in the shoebox and shut the lid, hoisting it under my arm. “Anyway, thanks for watching them while I figured out what to do about Max. Gottagonow. Bye.”

  I got out of there and across the street to my house before any other weird stuff could happen.

  Not that having an entire civilization of tiny people who lived off your dirt was weird or anything.

  CHAPTER 9

  LEWIS

  Once we were safely back in Toddlandia, Herman clicked on Todd’s flashlight, which illuminated the dark and dusty expanse beneath Todd’s bed. He had called all Toddlians for a special meeting to be held in the very place where our race began: upon the hallowed sock. The flashlight focused on an enormous object that was mysteriously draped with a pair of Todd’s unsoiled undergarments.

  Herman positioned himself in the center of the light, held up his arms, and spoke. “My fellow Toddlians, you know that I have been working on a Big Plan. We have reached a point in our history that will decide the fate of future generations. You must all admit that the recent negligence of our god has left us no choice.”

  No choice? I didn’t like the tone of Herman’s address. What action was he about to propose without so much as a vote?

  Herman continued. “Recently, Todd’s paternal person was laboring underneath his automobile, and I happened to be doing a little research in the garage room. A song was playing on the wireless transmission device, and I felt the words to be quite apropos to our current crisis.” Herman cleared his throat and sang in a low voice, “You’ve gotta know when to hold ’em … Know when to fold ’em …”

  “Ooooo,” chorused the other Toddlians, applauding.

  Persephone tossed her hat into the air and whooped, “Now that’s tellin’ ’em, Hermie!”

  Herman continued, his pale face full of resolve. “It is my humble opinion that it is time to do as the omens say, and run. We must gather up our courage, along with representatives of the other species we wish to preserve, and embark on a new era of Toddlian exploration.” At this he signaled to the Toddlians holding the edges of the underpants. They pulled the covering off and revealed an immense and beautiful … boat?!?

  A cheer rose from the awestruck crowd, and I forgot my frustration and joined in the admiration. I’d known since the Fly Attack that occurred just before Todd brought us to Lucy’s that Herman was working on a new sailing vessel, but I was unprepared for the magnificence of this one. The boat was as high as the Meeting Hut (the tallest building in Toddlandia), and about half as long as Todd’s laptop computer.

  “Welcome aboard The Exodus, our very own ark of exploration and preservation!” Herman led us on a tour of the vessel, and I was momentarily dazed by its grandeur. “You will note that the peaked roof is made of beautiful baseball cards. Never fear—the waxy coating has been thoroughly tested for water resistance. These sides and this door are constructed of wooden matches and toothpicks, respectively. They are securely pitched with bubble gum mined from Todd’s sneakers.”

  “Oooooo!”

  Herman gave a slight bow and then led us below deck into the hold of the ark, which was lined with rows of large compartments divided by matchstick walls. “Here are enough stalls and enclosures to hold a male and female of each of the ‘critters’ Persephone and her helpers have been collecting. There is also room to store the foodstuffs each species (including ours) needs to survive a journey over water.”

  That snapped me back to reason. “A journey over water?” I repeated, dumbstruck. “Just where are we going?”

  Herman stopped gesturing and looked at me curiously. “Why, wherever the current takes us, in hopes of finding another god!”

  “NO!” I shouted, mortified. “That is NOT how the story Lucy told us ended. Don’t you remember how the same previously offended god welcomed the faithful humans out of the boat, received their offerings, and accepted them back into his care?”

  Herman was in a rare state of speechlessness.

  I continued with my case. “Don’t you recall how he set a prismatic bow in the clouds to reassure the human race that there would never, ever be another such flood?”

  Some of my people murmured in agreement. But Herman did not look convinced. He weaved through the crowded deck to where I stood, and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Lewis, my friend, I know that is the conclusion of the biblical account. But we … we …” His gaze fell, and he bit his lower lip.

  “You were saying?”

  Herman’s eyes met mine, and they were full of sadness. “Given his recent neglect, do you think Todd will even pursue us if we flee?”

  My heart burned within me. How had Herman so entirely lost faith in the Great One? “Of course he will!” I insisted. “Do you doubt his love?”

  I felt a gentle squeeze on my shoulder. “Lew,” Persephone pleaded, “take off yer blinders. Cain’t you see how Todd’s been treatin’ us lately? You ain’t had a civil word from him in weeks. Somethin’ or somebody else has hogtied his heart, and there jest ain’t room in it for us anymore.”

  I couldn’t speak. I knew there was truth to her words, but oh, the ache they left in my soul!

  A fire deep within me was flickering and about to die, and I was losing the strength to fan its feeble flame. I trudged to the exit ramp, turning to take one more look at the ark that would sail us away from the only home we had ever known … away from Todd.

  Persephone, ever one for action, was shimmying up to one of the rafters. She waved her hat. “Captain Herman,” she called. “Whaddaya say we see if this ol’ gal is seaworthy?”

  Herman saluted solemnly. “Aye, aye. But for this aquatic trial we shall need to procure an able assistant. Now where is Lewis?”

  • • •

  Ironically, I was the one appointed to be the Toddlians’ amba
ssador to The Adorable One They Call Daisy. She was, it seemed, our only possible ally. Herman and Persephone were not convinced she was completely unsympathetic to her elder brother, but I was. Still, I was not to tell her the real purpose of the Exodus experiment.

  My conscience smote me with every step I took to the nursery. Trai-tor. Trai-tor. Trai-tor.

  Finally I slipped under the closed door.

  I knew this to be “Daisy’s nap time,” per her unsupportive mother. I also knew that Daisy created her most exquisite art during these hours of unobserved freedom.

  When I approached, The Adorable One was putting the final touches on an expressionist painting. She was coloring an undulating sunset on her wall, using Todd’s orange permanent marker. Under the blazing sky was a waving image with hands on either side of its face. The frantic face had wide eyes and an O-shaped mouth.

  The picture perfectly captured my present pent-up frustration. I was too moved to express my admiration.

  Daisy spat out her Binky and spoke in my native language. “Do you remember this one, Lewis?” What sounded like burbling nonsense to her human family was actually fluent Toddlian.

  “Edvard Munch’s The Scream of Nature?” I volunteered. I remembered it from her Famous Paintings for Preschoolers flash card set.

  She nodded and tilted her head, turning a critical eye on her endeavor. “It would have looked better in pastels, but that’s the price you pay for eating your sidewalk chalk.”

  I cleared my throat and climbed atop her musical table in order to better communicate. “Adorable One, I have come to ask a favor.”

  She picked up a yellow marker and scowled. “Succotash! I’ve bitten the end off this one, too! I must remember to stop doing that.” Daisy rummaged around in the cup that held Todd’s markers, choosing a red one. “What was your favor, little Lewis? Does the Toddlian library need another etching? I’d love to try a tiny Rembrandt. Perhaps The Rat Catcher?”

  “That would be lovely, but I come on a more urgent errand. My friend Herman has built a remarkable boat for us to … take on an extended voyage. But we need to make certain it is seaworthy. Could you help us?”