“You weighed them?”
“You are missing the point, Todd.”
“Which is?”
“That they operate and cooperate in a manner that is very antlike. They live together in harmony and can accomplish anything through their amazing sense of unity.”
“Right. Well, that’s all real interesting, but I need my room to myself now. So how ’bout you take the sock back to your place so you can research them with all your equipment handy.”
“But you need to know this. They’re your people, after all. The Toddlians.”
“Toddlians?” I groaned.
“That’s right. One from or belonging to Todd . . . a Toddlian; plural Toddlians.” She stretched out on my bed, clearly making herself comfortable. “Have a seat and I’ll explain how they communicate.”
I stayed in the middle of my room, arms crossed. “I’m not sure about—”
Lucy cut me off. “The Toddlians speak the same way we do, only at a very high frequency and pitch. You sort of have to be listening for it.”
“That’s great, but—”
“See this equation?” she interjected, ignoring me as she pointed to some other numbers and a clock on her whiteboard. “While I was watching them today, the most fascinating thing happened! They aged in front of my eyes! One day for us equals years in Toddlandia!”
“Todd . . . landia?” Good grief.
Lucy grinned and waved her hand over my sock like she was selling it on QVC. “That’s what I’ve christened their empire. Anyway, they’ve already smelted iron for making tools, so it’s my hypothesis that they’re evolving at an astonishing pace. At the rate they age, a Toddlian born in the morning can be reading Shakespeare by noon, with our help!”
“Shakespeare?” She was nuts. “That’s useful. So when I forget to feed them, they can stand around and go, ‘To starve or not to starve, that is the question’?”
Lucy handed me the glasses. “Puh-lease. Like I would ever allow you to let them starve. Put these on and observe your people at work!”
I glanced at the glasses in my hand and looked back up at Lucy. “These? Really?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Now come on already. Feast your eyes on your countrymen!”
“Fine,” I replied. If this was the only way to get Lucy to calm down, I guessed I didn’t have much choice. I took off my regular specs and slid on the glasses, my stomach tingling as I leaned down to get a better view.
Okay, so maybe I was a little curious.
The special lenses made everything look huge and blurry until I focused on the sock. “Wait . . . is that a . . . a mountain?”
“Mm-hmm. Probably consists of dead skin cells and dust from wherever you wore the sock last. It’s a baseball sock, right?”
“Yep.”
“So that’s the dust of wherever you played. Look on top of Mount Bambino.”
I stood up and stared at her over the goggles. “Bambino? As in Babe?”
Lucy nodded. “The Sultan of Swat. George Herman Ruth, Jr. Red Sox 1914 through 1920. Seven hundred fourteen homers. My father is obsessed with baseball, and I thought it only appropriate that this landmark be given a name consistent with the nature of the sock on which it rests.” She pushed me back to the sock. “Try to find Lewis.”
“Lewis?”
“You know, like Lewis of the Lewis and Clark expedition? The explorers who—”
Before she had time to explain American History 101, I broke in. “Why not Clark?”
Lucy gave me her can you possibly be that dumb? stare. “Because he doesn’t look like a Clark, obviously.”
“Are you sure he’s not a she? Maybe you should name it Pocahontas.” I wasn’t as dumb as she thought.
“It’s Sacagawea, and some of the girls have long hair and pigtails.” I could tell by the sarcasm in her voice that she’d wanted to add “moron,” so I bent over and found Mount Bambino again. On the peak sat a tiny humant. When I saw him, I froze; it was the same little guy who’d pointed at me the day before. He had huge ears, sticking straight out from under his brown hair. His eyes were big, brown, and round and so were his . . . glasses?
He seemed to be staring right back at me, which made my scalp prickle. “Whoa,” was all I could manage.
Lucy bent over the sock too. “Todd, meet Lewis. Lewis, this is Todd.”
That’s when I noticed two other little Toddlians flanking Lewis a bit farther down Mount Bambino. One was a young girl with pigtails, standing with her arms crossed. The other was a pasty, short guy with wide, dark eyes. “Who are the other ones?” I asked.
Lucy grabbed the glasses off my face and peered down through them. “Oh, those seem to be Lewis’s friends. I’m calling them Persephone and Herman.”
I grabbed the glasses back and slid them on. I wasn’t even going to ask about the origin of those names. Before I could speak, anyway, the three of them raised their hands up at me, then slowly bent in half. “Uh . . . Lucy? I think they’re bowing to me.”
“Let me see!” Lucy ripped the glasses off my head and shoved them on herself. “Weird. They didn’t do that to me.”
“Watch the ears, would you?” They might stick out like Mickey Mouse’s, but I wanted to keep them on my head.
“Mm-hmm. Look, he’s pointing at you. I think he wants to say something.” She handed the glasses back.
I put them on and nearly fell over.
“Hi!” Lewis exclaimed, waving at me, an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face.
I glanced back up at Lucy. “Did that one just talk to me?”
Lucy gave me a dismissive eye roll. “Come on, Todd. You’re being impolite.”
She was right, I realized. I straightened the glasses on my face and turned back to Lewis, speaking slowly so he could understand. “Uh, hey, Lewis! Where did you guys come from? And what are you doing on my sock? And do you come up with your own food?” I cleared my throat. “’Cause my track record’s not the greatest on that.”
Lewis bowed again and repeated, “Hi!” Then he grunted twice.
Lucy leaned in. “He doesn’t speak English yet. His native tongue is a series of grunts. I have no idea what he just said, but I assume it was a greeting of some kind in Toddlian.”
That’s when some crazy banging on the front door made me jump.
Whoever was outside was banging hard enough to break down the front door.
From the living room my mother yelled out, “Are you going to get that?”
“Yup, just a sec!” I yelled back. I set the micro-glasses onto my desk and ran into the hallway. Along the way, I scooped up Daisy, who was doodling on the wall with a purple crayon. Shoot! I’m supposed to be watching her. I grabbed the crayon from her hand and read the label: Elegant Eggplant. Whew! The washable kind.
Lucy was hot on my heels. “Want me to take Daisy?” She reached for her, but Daisy shrieked and gave my neck a death grip. I pried her off and put her on my hip, then pulled open the front door with my free hand to find . . .
Max Loving. He was poised to knock again and nearly socked me in the nose when the door opened. It’s a good thing Daisy had such a grip on me, because in my shock I almost dropped her.
“Hey there, Buttrock,” Max said, “meet my friends.” He stepped aside to reveal two huge, terrifying men.
CHAPTER 7
Max pushed past me into the kitchen. “What’s up, Little Butty? I thought I’d bring my homeys by to say hey. We were just hangin’ out in your hood, and I thought it might be a good time for us to talk about our science project.” He helped himself to a handful of Goldfish crackers off Daisy’s high chair and jerked his head in Lucy’s direction. “Who’s this?”
“Uh . . .” I couldn’t stop staring at Max’s towering friends. “This is my neighbor, Lucy Pedoto.”
They busted up at her last name. “
Dodo,” the bigger one said, making his voice high and squeaky. “Duh, I’m a dodo bird, feed me a cracker?”
The other one had a neon-yellow-dyed Mohawk and a pointy metal thing that stuck through the middle of his nose, like an arrow. I couldn’t help but wonder what happened when he sneezed.
He grabbed some Goldfish crackers and started tossing them across the kitchen, aiming for the bigger one’s mouth. Most of them missed and landed on the floor—the big guy had suddenly noticed Daisy and was too busy making weird googly-goo noises at her to catch. Daisy wriggled off my hip, slid down my leg, and ran over to the missed crackers, cramming them into her mouth.
“Cute kid,” said the bigger guy. “Is that your little sister?”
Now that I looked closer, I could see these guys weren’t actually men . . . they were just a little further along the puberty scale than Duddy and me. This guy had enough hair on his top lip to make up for what he didn’t have on the sides of his head, which were shaved into lightning bolts. He was dressed in desert fatigues and wore huge steel-toed biker boots.
“Aw, I love babies,” he said as he tried to pick up Daisy. I say tried, because when he grabbed her, she let out the mother of all shrieks and he dropped her like a snake.
“Yeah, and babies really love you, Nixy,” the guy with the nose ring said with a laugh. His gut jiggled and some funny snorting noises came out of his nose.
“Todd?” Mom called from the living room.
“She’s fine!” I yelled. I ran over and picked Daisy up, and she latched onto my neck again and quieted down.
Max chose this moment to make introductions. “Hombres, this here is Todd Buttrock . . .”
“Actually, it’s—” I started to correct him, but he cut me off.
“And these are the rest of the Zoo Crew: Spud Kim and Dick Nixon.” He motioned to the guy with the nose ring and the bigger guy with the facial hair, respectively.
“No relation,” said Dick, running a finger over his mustache, which looked like a dirty smear over his lip, “but you can call me Nixy.” Lucy laughed, for some reason.
Dick hummed along to “Old MacDonald,” which Mom’s student was pounding out in the next room. “You guys got a piano?” he asked. “I can play the Mario Brothers theme—”
Max coughed loudly, and Dick shot him a nervous glance, then added, “For the baby, I mean. Kids love music.”
He started toward the living room, but I set Daisy down and jumped in front of him. “Uh, my mom’s giving a lesson, so maybe you shouldn’t go in there.”
Dick stared down at me, and I felt my stomach flip over. He was so big. But to my amazement, he just shrugged, sending his lightning bolts bobbing up and down, and headed back toward the kitchen. “Fair enough.”
I froze where I stood. Had this huge kid just listened to me, Todd Butroche? These guys had actually come over to hang out with me at my house. What was happening here?
Max laid a meaty hand on my shoulder. “So, what have you and Dodo Girl been doing in your room?” He wiggled his unibrow. “Little tonsil hockey?”
Gross. Of course his friends thought that was hilarious and made all sorts of disgusting kissing noises.
“No!” I shouted, on top of Lucy’s, “Actually, we’ve been examining some very interesting specimens under a microscope.”
Dick snorted. “Dor-ky.”
Max narrowed his eyes at him.
“I’d beg to differ,” said Lucy, her voice as high and preachy as ever. “To quote Henry Powers: ‘Of all the inventions none there is Surpasses the Noble Florentine’s Dioptrick Glasses.’”
Spud shook his head like he had water in his ears. “What did she just say?”
Lucy put her hands on her hips. “The next time you gentlemen—and I use the term loosely—contract a bacterial infection and have to take an antibiotic to get better, you can thank a scientist who used a microscope to discover cells, bacteria, and penicillin!” She pointed at them, one at a time. “Without microscopes you’d all probably be dead right now. Or maybe not even born . . .”
“Uh, Lucy, this may not be the best time to share the history of the microscope.” I cocked my head toward our guests, silently pleading with her to recognize the thin ice we were on.
For once she listened to me. “Very well. Our research here could change the world someday. But,” she said sweetly, “I’m sure whatever you guys have been doing is just as important.”
All of them looked at Lucy like she’d just stepped off the mother ship.
She glared back with a stare that would melt an iceberg.
Max punched me in the arm. Ouch. “I like her.” He suddenly barreled down the hall toward my room, his homeys close behind. “Let’s check out their research, dudes.”
I turned to follow them, but Lucy ran up and grabbed my elbow. “Wait!” she hissed. “Todd, I don’t think we ought to reveal the Toddlians to these barbarians. I’m detecting a very negative vibe, aren’t you?”
Too late. “Dude! Check out these glasses!” Max and his buddies had already invaded my room, and he was hollering from my desk.
“It’ll be fine,” I whispered to Lucy. After all, there was no way I could tell these guys to leave my stuff alone. I was already living on borrowed time, since for some reason they hadn’t beaten me up yet. “I’m sure they’ll get bored and go home soon.”
Daisy giggled, and I realized she was still in the kitchen. Uh-oh. I ran back to get her.
Oh no! She’d graduated from crayons to forks and had gouged her artwork into four of the wooden cabinets. Mom was going to have a heart attack. She’d put those cabinets in herself.
I wrenched the fork away from Daisy and carried her to my door. I could hear Spud asking, “What is that sick smell? Is it that sock? Man, it stinks!”
I ran into the room with Lucy right behind me, but we were too late. Max already had on the micro-glasses and was leaning over the sock. “What the—ho-ly can-no-li. You guys gotta see this!”
Spud grabbed the glasses from Max’s outstretched hand. “They’re ants or some kind of buggy things,” he stammered. “Ants with clothes and houses. Pretty sweet. But man, that reeks!”
“Gimme those,” Dick demanded as he ripped the glasses off Spud, sliding them over his lightning bolts. “Oh, rad! They’re a bunch of itty-bitty aliens. TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER! Hey!” he yelled, turning to me. “What do they eat? Spud, get a stick outta that lizard cage so we can poke one open and see what’s inside.”
This is bad. I fiddled with Camo’s case and racked my brain for something to say to distract them.
Unlike me, Lucy didn’t hesitate. She slid in between Dick and the sock. He jumped back, clearly freaked at the sight of a magnified Lucy. “If you must know,” she said with that same glare, “they are a new, tiny civilization.”
Dick pushed her aside, pinched the sock, and seemed to pick up a Toddlian. I heard a faint scream that sounded like Lewis. Lucy motioned for me to do something.
I opened my mouth. Maybe I can say that the Toddlians don’t feel pain, so it’s no use torturing them? But again, Lucy was faster. She kicked Dick in the shin—hard. “Give me that!”
He stumbled back and dropped Lewis, who screamed even louder. Lucy seemed to reach out and catch him right before he hit the floor—at least, the screaming stopped. She set Lewis back on the sock. “They’re very delicate.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that, Princess Dodo,” Dick sneered in a girl voice. “Delicate like you, huh?”
Spud laughed. “Bug lovers of the world unite,” he mocked, putting his hand over his heart. “I hereby swear never to harm a bug, even if it bites me. Bugs have feelings, too.”
Max frowned. “Whatever. Listen, maybe we should leave the bug people on the sock for now. We wouldn’t want to hurt them, would we?” He sounded sarcastic, but he planted himself beside Lucy and in front o
f the sock.
“Oh yeah, of course we wouldn’t,” said Spud, grinning maniacally. He crossed over to where I stood with Camo. The next thing I knew, he opened up the little cage and pulled the lizard out, holding him up at eye level.
“Awesome, dude!” shouted Dick.
“What are you doing?” screamed Lucy. She rushed over to Spud and tried to wrestle Camo from his grasp.
“I don’t think so,” said Spud, pulling the chameleon away from her. “Looky here, buggy-wuggies,” he taunted, “I brought you a pet!”
Then he set Camo down next to the sock.
Camo’s eyes honed in on the little people, and his tongue uncurled and shot out over Toddlandia. I could make out a piercing scream rising up from the sock, but Spud didn’t seem to hear it.
Lucy snatched the glasses from Dick and looked at the sock. “They’re fleeing for their lives! Todd, they’re taking off in all directions!”
“Aw dude, let’s catch them,” Max said. “Seriously, we don’t wanna lose the little buggers.”
Camo aimed and fired his tongue, marching like a two-toed tank toward the helpless Toddlians. I ran over, picked him up, and plopped him on my bed, where Daisy sat, sucking on the Binkie with a thoughtful expression.
“Got one!” Max yelled, dropping it back on the sock.
“Be careful!” Lucy ordered as she let a handful of Toddlians climb from her palm to the village. “They aren’t immortal, you know.”
Dick scratched his mustache. “Huh?”
“They break! Some of them are geriatric, and there are infants and toddlers among them, too. They’re not all athletes!”
“Athletes! Son of a biscuit!” Spud hefted himself out of my beanbag chair and ran a hand through his Mohawk. “Guys, the bowling club practice lets out in five minutes! Who’s going to make those kids lick their rented shoes if not us?”
Dick tossed the Dragon Sensei figures he’d been aggressively playing with onto the bed next to Camo and Daisy. “We gotta jet! Loving, you coming?”
“Not now,” Max answered. “We’ve got a 911 situation here.”
By the Grace of Todd Page 4
