The Election-Day Disaster

by Ron Roy

  For Simon and Tansy

  —R.R.

  Contents

  1. Halloween Trouble

  2. No Pictures, Please

  3. Simon Says

  4. The Green Monster’s Secret

  5. The Disappearing Octopus

  6. KC’s Big Plan

  7. The Octopus Speaks

  8. Who Will Be President?

  1

  Halloween Trouble

  “Marshall, I don’t think you should be up in that tree,” KC said. She glanced down at the small sign stuck in the White House lawn. “This tree was planted by President Truman. It’s very valuable!”

  “I’m not hurting it.” Marshall’s voice came from the branches. “I’m just making my spiderweb look more spooky.”

  KC and her friend Marshall were in the White House rose garden. It was Halloween, and in an hour, the garden would be filled with kids and grown-ups in costumes. Even though the leaves were changing color, it was warm for the end of October. Kids wouldn’t need their hats and jackets to go out trick-or-treating.

  President Zachary Thornton was KC’s stepfather. Since KC’s mom had married the president, KC and her mother had been living in the White House.

  “It already looks spooky,” KC said. She glanced around the garden at the jack-o’-lanterns, “ghosts” made out of sheets, and fake tombstones.

  Marshall dropped to the ground. He was dressed as a tarantula. To make the legs, he’d stuffed long black socks and tied them to his black T-shirt and black jeans. He’d drawn a spider face on his own, using face paint.

  Marshall Li was an animal lover. But he especially liked creatures with six or more legs. His pet tarantula, Spike, lived in a cage next to his bed.

  “How does it look?” he asked, pointing up into the tree. His “spiderweb” was really white knitting yarn he’d gotten from his mother. He had strung the yarn in the tree branches to look like a large web.

  “Pretty nice,” KC admitted. “And the web goes with my costume.”

  “You’re not coming as a spider, too!” Marshall yelped.

  “No, I’m coming as Wilbur,” KC said.

  “Who’s Wilbur?”

  “He’s the pig in Charlotte’s Web,” KC said. “My favorite book.”

  “I hate to break the news,” Marshall said, “but in the book, Charlotte built a spiderweb, not a pig web.”

  “I didn’t say Wilbur sat in the web,” KC said. “Besides, how would you know? You only read Spider-Man comics.”

  “I saw the movie.” Marshall grinned.

  “Sweet web, Marsh,” a voice said. It was almost dark in the rose garden, and the voice made KC jump.

  Simon Tansy jogged toward the tree. He was the nephew of Yvonne, the president’s maid. Simon was visiting Yvonne for a few days.

  “Thanks, Simon,” Marshall said. “Where’s your costume?”

  Simon winked. “Somewhere,” he said. Simon was thirteen and thin, and had the yellowest blond hair KC had ever seen. He puffed out his chest. “I’m coming as Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

  “You can’t!” KC said. “Everyone has to be some kind of animal. It says so on your invitation.”

  “I know,” Simon said. He tugged on KC’s long red hair. “I was just yanking your chain. My costume is all ready, and if you think you’ll win the costume contest, forget it. It’s gonna be mine!”

  “What contest?” Marshall said. “No one tells me anything around here!”

  “There’s a prize for the most creative costume,” KC said. “The president and my mom and I are the judges.”

  “You’re a judge?” Simon scoffed. “So you can’t win, right?”

  “I know that,” KC said. She wondered why Simon made her so angry. Since he’d arrived that morning, he’d been nothing but a wise guy.

  “She’s coming as a pi—Ouch!” Marshall said as KC kicked him on the ankle.

  “It’s a surprise.” KC glared at Marshall.

  “Whatever,” Simon said, rolling his eyes. “Your mom told me to tell you to come in and get the apples. You know, for the dunking.”

  “Okay, thanks,” KC said. “I just want to check out the tent first.”

  Marshall and Simon followed KC to another part of the rose garden. A small tent stood next to the gate. The outside of the tent was decorated with plastic bats, flying witches, and other Halloween stuff.

  “Cool,” Simon said. “What’s this for?”

  “Everyone who shows up has to walk through the tent and have a picture taken with their masks off,” KC said. “For security. My mom said three marine guards will be here to take their invitations. Then the guests walk out the tent’s back door into the party.”

  “Why? Does the president think there will be party crashers?” Simon asked.

  “He just wants to make sure that only invited guests come,” KC explained. “He doesn’t want anyone on the grounds who doesn’t belong here.”

  “Our whole class from school is invited!” Marshall said. “And my parents!”

  “Great,” Simon muttered. “Little kids and grown-ups. I’ll have a terrific time!”

  Simon pulled out his cell phone and loped away toward the back entrance of the White House.

  As Simon went in, Arnold, in his crisp green marine uniform, came out. Arnold was the president’s personal guard, and he had become KC and Marshall’s friend. He was carrying two large wash buckets.

  “Where do these go?” he called to KC. “They’re for apple dunking.”

  “Leave them by the tent,” KC said. “I don’t know where my mom wants them.”

  KC and Marshall went into the tent. It was empty except for a chair where the guests would be photographed.

  “Who’s taking the pictures?” Marshall asked KC. “I thought cameras weren’t allowed.”

  “The president hired a photographer,” she said.

  By the tent’s exit was a basket of red, white, and blue campaign buttons. In the center of each button was the face of President Zachary Thornton. Around his face were the words ZACK IS BACK.

  November 4—four days away—was Election Day. KC’s stepfather was running for reelection as President of the United States.

  “KC, if the president loses the election, where will you guys live?” Marshall asked. “You’d have to move out of the White House, right?”

  “He’s not going to lose!” KC said. “Don’t you ever read the newspapers, Marsh?”

  KC planned to be a news anchor-woman after college. She read three newspapers every day and watched the news on TV. She was training herself to notice what was going on everywhere, not just in Washington, D.C.

  “I only read Spider-Man comics, remember?” Marshall said, putting on a goofy face.

  “Well, all the polls say my stepfather is ahead of Melrose Jury, the man he’s running against,” KC said.

  “What do you mean, poles?” Marshall asked. “Like fishing poles?”

  “No, P-O-L-L-S. Polls are like samples of what people think,” KC said. “Whenever there’s an election, people get asked who they will vote for. Right now, the president is ahead of Dr. Jury in the polls.”

  “The president’s running against a doctor?” Marshall asked.

  “Not a medical doctor,” KC said. “Dr. Jury was a college professor before he got into politics.”

  “And now he wants to be president,” Marshall summed up.

  KC grinned and pointed to the campaign buttons. “Yeah, but he’s not gonna make it, because Zack is back!”

  2

  No Pictures, Please

  An hour later, KC and Marshall were standing next to the two wash buckets filled with water. Apples floated on the surface.

  KC had used one of her mom’s old
pink sweaters to make her Wilbur-the-pig costume. She had stuffed the sweater with a pillow to make her tummy look fat. She wore a pig snout over her nose. Her red hair was tucked under a pink baseball cap with pointy pig ears.

  “You look like Miss Piggy,” Marshall said.

  “Well, I’m not Miss Piggy,” KC said. “I’m Mr. Wilbur.”

  She looked around, checking out all the costumes. Their classmates had masks on, so she couldn’t tell who was who.

  Some of the adults were standing near the water buckets. Others were lining up kids to play Pin the Wart on the Witch.

  “Who’s the butterfly?” Marshall asked.

  “That’s my mom,” KC said. “And the president is the lion holding his tail. People keep stepping on it.”

  “My parents are the two geese,” said Marshall. “My mom ripped up a bunch of old pillows to get the feathers.”

  “The vice president is the ladybug,” KC went on. “And Yvonne is the cow.”

  Marshall pointed to a black gorilla who was pretending to scare kids. “I think that’s our teacher, Mr. A,” he said.

  “Mr. Alubicki is the gorilla?” KC asked.

  Marshall nodded. “And your buddy, Simon, is behind the president,” he said.

  KC stared. Simon was dressed in dark gray long johns. A scrawny gray tail hung from the seat of his pants. Black cardboard ears stuck up from his head over a mask with a pointy nose.

  “He looks like a gerbil,” KC said, trying not to laugh.

  “I think he’s supposed to be a kangaroo,” Marshall said.

  “Who’s that?” KC asked. A green monster walked by. Long green sausage-like things hung from the body. The head was a green motorcycle helmet. Strips of green plastic hung down over the legs, almost to the shiny black shoes.

  Marshall burst out laughing. “Looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon!”

  KC pointed out a short kid waiting to dunk for an apple. He or she wore a bug mask with a pillowcase for a costume. Black wings sprouted from the shoulders. Every few seconds, the pillowcase lit up. The kid glowed in the dark.

  “I think that’s Amanda from our class,” KC whispered.

  “What’s she supposed to be?” Marshall asked.

  “A firefly,” KC said. “Pretty clever!”

  It grew darker. Kids dunked for apples. Blindfolded, they tried pinning warts on a paper witch strung between two trees. Cookies and cider were gobbled up.

  The president and First Lady arranged a parade around the rose garden. Everyone stumbled along, trying not to step on each other’s costumes.

  “First prize goes to Amanda Day!” KC’s mom announced. “Amanda, your costume is cute and creative and you make a lovely firefly!” Amanda won lunch with the president at the White House. Everyone clapped and whistled.

  After Amanda accepted her prize, people began leaving. KC stood by the gate with the president and her mom to say good night to everyone. KC’s mom held a basket of wrapped gifts. “Please take one,” she said to each guest as they left. “You’re all winners!”

  The president held the basket of campaign buttons. “Please take one,” he joked. “Make me a winner on Tuesday!”

  The next morning, KC woke up suddenly. She had heard a shout coming from somewhere in the residence. She jumped up and threw open the door. She heard more loud voices from the kitchen.

  Still in her pajamas, KC raced down the hall. The president and her mom and Yvonne were staring at the TV set.

  “What is it, Mom?” KC asked.

  “Those pictures were on the Internet last night,” her mother said. “Now they’re all over the news!”

  KC focused on the TV screen. It was the Donny Drum News Hour. In one of the pictures, the president was shown dunking a boy’s head deep into a water bucket. Holding the kid’s head down, the president was grinning at the camera.

  The other picture was worse. Somebody had put Dr. Melrose Jury’s face on the paper witch. President Thornton was pinning a wart on Dr. Jury’s nose, and again smiling for the camera.

  KC shook her head. “But those things never happened!” she said.

  “I think there was a rat at our party last night,” the president said. “And that rat wants me to lose this election.”

  He stood up. “Excuse me,” he said. “I have some phone calls to make.” He and KC’s mom left the kitchen.

  KC dialed Marshall’s phone number.

  “Can you come over?” she asked him when he answered. “We have a disaster!”

  Marshall yawned into the phone. “What do you mean, ‘we’?” he asked.

  “Just come over, okay?”

  KC changed out of her pajamas, then sat in the kitchen to wait for Marshall. Simon came in, yawning and holding his cell phone. He poured himself a glass of juice. He smiled at KC, but to her it looked more like a smirk.

  “That’s too bad about your stepdad,” Simon said. But he didn’t seem upset.

  KC snapped a leash on Natasha, the president’s greyhound. They went outside to wait for Marshall.

  “Good, you’re here!” KC said when Marshall walked up.

  “So what’s going on?” he asked.

  KC took Marshall and Natasha to a sunny bench in the rose garden. The wash buckets and all the Halloween decorations were gone.

  “Did you watch TV this morning?” KC asked Marshall. She let go of the leash so Natasha could wander on the lawn.

  Marshall was chewing on an apple, so he shook his head. KC told him about the two pictures that made the president look like a mean person.

  Marshall’s eyes got big. His face turned red and he started to choke.

  “Geez, swallow, will you?” KC said.

  He swallowed. “But the president would never dunk a kid,” he said. “And I was standing right next to the paper witch. She had a regular old witch’s face with a hooked nose and wild hair!”

  “Marsh, someone wants to make the president look bad so he’ll lose the election,” KC said. “Someone at the party took pictures of him, then changed them and put them on the Internet!”

  “But no one was supposed to have a camera, remember?” Marshall said.

  “Someone did,” she said glumly.

  “Digital cameras are tiny. Anyone could have hidden one in their costume.”

  “Wait a minute!” Marshall said. “What about that photographer the president hired, the woman in the tent?”

  KC looked at him. “Yeah, her name was Lauren,” she said slowly. “Except her camera was big and on a tripod.”

  “She could have had a small camera, too,” Marshall said.

  KC shook her head. “Lauren wasn’t wearing a costume. We’d have noticed her outside the tent.”

  “Maybe she did have a costume,” Marshall insisted. “You know, we never figured out who was in the green monster costume. Maybe it was Lauren!”

  “I guess it’s possible,” KC agreed. “But that would mean Lauren wants the president to lose the election next week.”

  “We should go check her out,” said Marshall.

  “Do you realize what might happen when people see the pictures?” KC said.

  Marshall shook his head.

  “People will think the pictures are real and that the president did those mean things!” KC said. “The pictures were on the Internet last night. Today they’re on TV, and by tomorrow they’ll be in every newspaper in the world. The election is three days away!”

  “Well, even if it wasn’t that photographer, it was definitely someone who was at the party,” Marshall said.

  “I’m sure none of the kids in our class took those pictures,” KC said. “It had to be a grown-up.”

  “But all the adults were friends of the president.” Marshall ticked off names on his fingers. “My parents, Mr. Alubicki, the vice president, and Yvonne. None of them would want to hurt the president!”

  “That leaves Lauren, the photographer,” KC said quietly.

  Marshall jumped up. “KC, maybe the person inside
that green monster costume was Dr. Jury!” he said. “Maybe he snuck into the party to take pictures that would make the president look bad!”

  KC stared at his big brown eyes, then burst out laughing. “Marsh, I would be willing to bet one million dollars that Dr. Melrose Jury did not crash our party last night,” she said.

  “So what do we do?” Marshall asked.

  “We find the photographer,” KC said.

  3

  Simon Says

  KC’s mom told her the photographer’s name was Lauren Tool. She had a small studio on New York Avenue. Fifteen minutes later, KC and Marshall pushed open the door to her little shop.

  KC saw a group of chairs around a low table and a wall of photos. There was a narrow counter with a small door behind it. Below the counter was a glass case filled with cameras for sale.

  Lauren Tool was nowhere in sight.

  “Check out the cameras,” KC whispered. “Some of them are so small I could hide one in my hand.”

  “Look,” Marshall said. He showed KC a note left on the counter. It said: I’M IN THE DARKROOM. RING THE BELL. LAUREN.

  KC pressed the bell next to the note. In a few minutes, Lauren Tool came through the door. She was wearing a plastic apron over jeans and a T-shirt. A picture on her shirt showed a camera with bright eyes and a smiling mouth. Beneath it were the words SAY IT WITH PICTURES.

  “Oh, hi,” Lauren said when she recognized KC and Marshall. “I told your mom I’d have the pictures tomorrow or the next day.”

  Lauren Tool was tall. She looked like the kind of woman who played volleyball or basketball. KC flashed back to the green monster costume. Whoever was inside that costume had been tall, too.

  “So, what can I do for you?” Lauren asked.

  KC thought quickly. Then she asked Lauren if she had seen the news on TV that morning.

  Lauren shook her head. “I’ve been in my darkroom for hours,” she said. “Why, what’s up?”

  KC told her.

  “You’re kidding me!” Lauren said. She took off her apron and hung it on a hook next to the darkroom door.

  “The pictures were awful,” KC said. “They made the president look like a terrible person.”