By the Grace of Todd

Home > Other > By the Grace of Todd > Page 13
By the Grace of Todd Page 13

by Louise Galveston


  Something deep inside me sparked. I might not be cool, but there was an entire race of people counting on me, and at least one of them thought I could do anything because I was the greatest person on the planet. I’d save them or get pummeled trying.

  “Thanks, but no thanks, Max.” I stuck out my hand one more time. “I won’t be going with you to the fair. I’ll take the Toddlians now and leave.”

  The unibrow shot up. I think Max was shocked that I’d finally stood up to him. That made two of us.

  “You’ll get your bug people back when I get my Xbox. End of discussion.” Max turned to go, then stopped. “Just be glad I didn’t rip your head off.” He snorted. “What a bunch of losers.” Then he stomped away.

  “Oh no!” Lewis cried. “We were so close this time. Will my people never be free?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I tried. I really did.”

  Persephone dropped down onto my other shoulder and pricked me with her spurs. “I done told y’all this one was too lily-livered to be our leader.”

  “Now, now,” said a third voice. Herman. “Let us not be too hasty. You have to give new leaders the opportunity to prove themselves, especially in a time of war. Remember the immortal words of Winston Churchill: ‘Never give in. Never, never, never, never!’ I am certain the Great Todd has a strategy to ensure the survival of our species.” He paused, I guess to let that sink in. Then, in a solemn but earnest voice, he asked the question that would force me to rise to the levels that accidental godhood demanded:

  “Great Todd, what is your plan?”

  CHAPTER 25

  LEWIS

  The Adorable One They Call Daisy grabbed my shard of Bubblegum Booyah pink crayon with her pudgy hand. She gurgled, grunted, and cooed in my native language. “No, Lewis, you’re being too stiff. The key to creating meaningful art is letting the soul flow through the fingertips, so they must be loose: like this.”

  Her Adorableness had been giving me art lessons since the night she had failed to build the DAISYNATOR 3000. She had observed my amateurish attempt at a statue of her Great Brother and offered to help me improve my technique. I was grateful for her guidance, especially now, when my leader was so troubled that I knew only art could inspire him. Great Todd had seemed particularly depressed after we returned from the scene of the rogue automobile. He had collapsed to his bed upon arrival and scarcely stirred since. I’d left Herman and Persephone in his hair to watch over him, with instructions to fetch me if I was needed.

  I was counting on the Adorable One to help me create a work that would stir Great Todd’s soul and remind him of his own great and awesome power. I had developed significantly as an artist since the Statue Debacle. Daisy, however, was a true master, having produced over five hundred works on hall walls and cabinetry, not to mention her culinary creations.

  “Like most great artists, I’m misunderstood by those closest to me,” she complained. “Only time will reveal the true value of my masterpieces.”

  Most of the Adorable One’s work was destroyed by her unsupportive mother. Why, this very morning I had been brought to tears by “Butterflies in Red Jell-O”—a beautiful rendering of African red gliders in finger paints. But the mother had wrecked it, scolding her daughter and wiping the magnificently placed globs off the kitchen floor with one fatal swipe.

  “I’ll make her pay,” Daisy had wailed. “I’ll make them all pay!”

  It was no wonder she was often cross with Great Todd, who was no better than the others at recognizing her talents. Still, I believed that Daisy and Todd had more in common than they knew. Both were givers, creators. Today the Adorable One and I were attempting to capture a still life, the Binkie, on the door of the refrigerator. The mother was safely in the next room, endeavoring to teach a small child the necessity of counting while he hit black-and-white bars with his fingers.

  It was hard to lose oneself in one’s art with such sporadic noise, but if the teacher could do it, so could the pupil. I relaxed my hand and swirled it over the avocado surface of the refrigerator, then quickly sketched the curves of the Binkie. The subject filled me with a sense of melancholy because of its connection to its owner’s tears and anger. I picked up a shard of the Lovesick Lavender crayon and traced over my sketchings.

  The Adorable One nodded. “Excellent interpretation, Lewis.”

  There was a break in the cacophony coming from the piano, and I heard my master stirring about in his quarters. “I must go,” I said. “The Great One may need me.”

  But Daisy did not hear. She was having trouble drawing the Binkie’s bulb in a manner that pleased her. In a moment of rage, she bit the crayon in half and spat it upon the floor. “Succotash!”

  CHAPTER 26

  I couldn’t sleep for anything the night after we broke into Katcher’s car, but I was also too depressed to leave my bed. No matter how hard I tried to turn off my brain, I kept seeing those Toddlians, stretching their tiny arms out to me for help. I felt like I had lost everything. Duddy, Lucy, Max, the Toddlians—even my own self-respect. I curled into a ball and moaned, wishing I could go back and do everything differently.

  But you can’t change the past. You can only change the future. That bit of wisdom occurred to me around midnight, as I was trying to soothe myself by counting Toddlians in my head. Maybe it was time to “take the bull by the horns,” as Persephone would put it. Maybe there was still time to fix this.

  I sat up and called to the three Toddlians that I’d managed to wrestle from Max’s grasp. “Lewis? Persephone? Herman? Can I talk to you guys?”

  I heard them stirring and spotted Lewis running over to me from the pillow. I went to scoop him up. “Yes, Great Todd?” he said as he bowed. “How may I assist you?”

  “He probably wants to turn you over to that outlaw Mean Max,” Persephone huffed. “Told you he was a traitor!” She’d emerged from Daisy’s room . . . riding Camo. Lewis said that Herman was in the garage, so I collected him and set them on my desk, crouching down so we were all eye-to-eye. Well, except Camo, whose eyes would never stay in the same place for more than two seconds put together.

  “Uh.” I cleared my throat. This was harder to get out than I thought it would be. “Listen, guys, I know I’ve been a lame leader—”

  Persephone huffed again, and Lewis shot her a warning look.

  “Yeah, so, for what it’s worth, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for that dumb circus and for everything that happened with Max.” There, I’d said it.

  Lewis simply grinned and said, “Thank you, Great Todd. Apology accepted and appreciated.”

  But Herman had more to say. He bowed to me and quoted:

  “The quality of mercy is not strained.

  It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

  Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:

  It blesses him that gives and him that takes.”

  “Volume S—Shakespeare,” he explained, and threw his arms wide. “You have my full and free forgiveness.”

  Persephone was a different story. “Hold on a minute, boys. Somethin’ here don’t quite tally. Remember, this is the slick sidewinder that turned us over to that mangy Max in the first place.”

  I thought Lewis was going to have a heart attack trying to shut her up. “It’s okay,” I told him. “She’s right. I did hand you over to Max, which was a big, big mistake. To show you how sorry I am, I promise to do whatever it takes to save your people.” I took a deep breath. “My people. It’s just that I can’t think of anything. That’s why I can’t sleep.”

  Persephone slid off Camo and stood in front of him, holding the floss reins he chomped. “Enough of this palavarin’. It’s plain as plain who we need. Lucy is the brains behind this here operation and the only one with the gumption to lock horns with that dagblasted Max.”

  “Ooooh!” Herman and Lewis cried. Lewis grabbed her arm. “Ta
ke care you do not blaspheme the Great One, Persephone.”

  She jerked away from him. “I suppose he knows I’m in the right.”

  The guys looked at me. “It’s true.” I shrugged. “I’ve got beans for brains.” Persephone smiled a little at that. “Lucy’s the one who’s smart—and we need her help.”

  The Toddlian trifecta hopped into my hair for the trip to Lucy’s. We snuck out through the garage, after waking the dog and nearly getting caught. Persephone took care of VanderPuff, though. She rappelled down my legs using floss, then lassoed the mutt’s mouth shut and hog-tied her legs together. Puffenstein would wriggle herself free eventually, but by then we’d be long gone. That cowgirl was starting to grow on me.

  Thankfully Lucy’s laboratory/bedroom was on the ground floor of her house. I grabbed a handful of pebbles from her flowerbed, my stomach queasy—I hoped she understood why I decided to stay behind for the Toddlians instead of running after her, especially seeing as I had little to show for my efforts.

  It took ten pebbles before the blinds parted a little and then flew up. The window went up next, and Lucy poked her head out, Medusa hair and all.

  Then she saw it was me. “Not now, Todd. I—”

  I talked fast. “Look, Lucy, I’m sorry. I’ve been a complete jerk, and I don’t deserve your help. But the Todd-lians need you and so do I. Max somehow knows a way of getting the Toddlians into the fair even though we got an F in Mr. Katcher’s class. He’s going to force them to perform dangerous circus acts there tomorrow, and I want to stop him, but I can’t figure out how to rescue the Toddlians without him finding out.”

  I stopped to breathe, and she jumped in. “You should have taken my advice about Max in the beginning instead of being his lackey this whole time. I told you he was giving off a bad vibe.”

  “You are so right. Believe me, I wish I’d never met the dude. Now I’ve lost Duddy, the best friend a guy could ever have, and I don’t know how to get him back, either.” I stepped closer to the window so she could see my face in the streetlamp. I wanted her to know I was dead serious. “All I ever wanted was to de-dork myself. You’re homeschooled; you have no idea how brutal it is to be bullied at school.”

  Lucy yawned. “Whatever.”

  “Max was going to be my ticket to freedom, but instead of cool, I was just his fool.”

  “Clever wordplay!” whispered Herman. “The Bard would be proud!”

  “Does any of that make sense to you?” I asked.

  She shook her poofy hair. “No. But that doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is keeping the Toddlians from more harm. Do you solemnly pledge to do everything in your power to keep the citizens of Toddlandia safe from further danger?”

  “I promise.”

  The Toddlians cheered. Lucy disappeared from the window, then popped back up, wheeling the whiteboard into view. “All right. Come around to the back door so I can let you in.” She waved her dry-erase marker in the air. “Time to break this baby down!”

  CHAPTER 27

  I didn’t think anything could make me sicker than the Eggroll ride at last year’s fair. But now I was way sicker than that, and I hadn’t even eaten any corn dogs, funnel cake, cotton candy, deep-fried Dippin’ Dots, or any of the delicacies I’d indulged in during my previous fair experience. It was the stressed-out kind of sick of a guy who knows he’s about to be pulverized in front of a bunch of people.

  The red-and-yellow striped tent Max was setting up in was way bigger than I’d expected. He’d used masking tape to stick up a couple of big posters to the side of the tent that said CHECK OUT THE MAXIAN CIRCUS! REAL LIVE CREATURES DOING TRICKS FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT! $5! It all looked kind of unofficial to me, and I couldn’t help but notice that the fair map showed some kind of kitchen knife demonstration in this space, but when I’d asked Max how he’d gotten us into the fair on such short notice, he’d just told me to mind my own business. Meanwhile, he kept peering up and down the midway, too, like he was looking for someone.

  I took a deep breath. Let it go, Todd. You have bigger fish to fry. We were right off the midway, and outside we could hear carnies shouting, people laughing, the ding every time someone won a goldfish by tossing hoops at soda bottles. It was the dings that made me queasiest. Every year before this, I’d been one of those people who’d won a goldfish, and every year it died within a month. I used to tell myself those fish must already be sick when you win them. Now I realized it was probably my fault they all had to be flushed.

  This year there was a lot more at stake than a fish in a bowl. I had an entire civilization in the glass aquarium in front of me, counting on me for their survival. I squatted down behind the card table that held the tank and looked for the Toddlians.

  Through the glass, Max’s scary mug looked back at me. “Just making sure they’re still there,” he said as he stood. “Not taking any chances after our class presentation.”

  No kidding. He’d put a lid on the tank and locked the hatch on top. The key was in his front jeans pocket, where nobody’d dare try to get it. The only Toddlian still hidden in my hair was Lewis.

  My heart thudded to the bass of the country song that played outside. The constant smell of sugar and grease made my stomach churn, but I shot the captive Toddlians the biggest smile I could work up.

  I glanced over at Camo’s carrying case to make sure he was okay. After yesterday’s powwow with Lucy, I’d called Max and told him I thought we needed to make the grand finale of the circus a real showstopper . . . and that Camo was the answer.

  Max’d agreed, on the condition that we rehearse it once to make sure nothing went wrong. “Although I think Camo making lunch out of the Toddlians would really stop the show. Heh heh.”

  I was just starting to unzip Camo’s case when two heads popped through the tent entrance. Lucy and Duddy.

  “Show’s not open yet!” Max barked.

  Lucy pushed aside the tent flap and sashayed in anyway. “Duddy and Ernie just placed third in the science fair, so we got some deep-fried Twinkies next door to celebrate. Don’t tell Susan. Anyway, I helped discover the Toddlians, so don’t I at least have the right to see if you cretins are abusing them?”

  Max seemed to have figured out what I’d already learned: the best way to get rid of Lucy was to let her have what she wanted. “Fine,” he huffed. “But make it snappy. I’ve got paying customers coming in a minute.” He shoved a finger in Lucy’s face, his eyes darkening. “And don’t think you can pull anything over on me, either.”

  Duddy followed Lucy up to the tank.

  “Uh, hey,” I said awkwardly. “Congrats.”

  “Hey,” he muttered, not looking at me. “Thanks, I guess. Oh, I have the Dragon Sensei fan fiction you wrote. I saved it on this flash drive. I don’t want it clogging up my computer anymore.”

  Duddy fished something out of his pocket and put it in my palm. I took it and gave him the hint of a nod. “Uh, all right. Thanks.”

  He raised his eyebrows, and nodded back. “Can I see them?”

  I shrugged and gestured down at the tank. “Sure.”

  The Dudster bent over and plastered his face to the magnifying glass Max had set up in front of the tank. “Oh, man . . . oh, man . . . look at them! Just look at them!” he whispered. I couldn’t help but smile. I’d never meant to keep the Toddlians from Duddy. But then Max had warned me not to tell anyone, and soon after Duddy had stopped speaking to me. So it ended up being easier than I’d have thought to keep the Toddlians a secret—I didn’t have my best friend around to tell.

  I knew Duddy’d love them, though. And I was glad to see I was right. “They are so flippin’ AWESOME!”

  Max snorted. “A lot better than your stupid ants, huh?” He grabbed Duddy by the back of the shirt and pushed him toward the entrance. “Now scram, losers. We’ve got us a rehearsal to do before the show.” He looked up and down the midwa
y again, then pulled out his key and started unlocking the tank, mumbling to me as he went along, “Guess you couldn’t keep the little guys to yourself, could you, Butroche? You’re lucky that I’m in a good mood today because I’m finally gonna make some cash from the little buggers, or else you’d see what I do to people who don’t keep their promises.”

  Lucy shot me a squint-wink, and she and Duddy split.

  “All right, get that lizard and let’s do this thing. I gotta start takin’ people’s dough. You seen the line out there?”

  I’d seen it. This had better work, or those people were going to get a way more interesting show than they’d bargained for.

  I slid Camo out of the case, and his eyes spun around, taking it all in. Persephone was perched behind his head. “Remember the drill?” I asked under my breath.

  “’Course we do, Pilgrim,” she shouted up to me. “We helped hatch thet plan!”

  Max set the lid aside long enough for me to lower Camo and then replaced it, locking it down.

  Just then there was a commotion outside the tent. “CRUELTY TO ANIMALS!” Lucy shouted. “These poor creatures are being abused! Boycott this attraction!”

  “Boycott this attraction!” Duddy echoed.

  “What the—” Max groaned and beat it outside. I heard him let rip at Lucy. “I’mma knock you into tomorrow if you don’t SHUDDUP!”

  I turned to the tank. “Hurry! You don’t have much time!” I told the Toddlians. Max sounded mad enough to tear Lucy limb from limb. Duddy was tougher than he looked—heck, he’d even managed to charm Ernie Buchenwald—but I was afraid he and Lucy wouldn’t be able to talk themselves out of this one.

  I checked the action in the tank; everything was going as planned for Phase One of Operation CAMOflage. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late. Lucy couldn’t stall Max for much longer.

  As soon as Phase One was complete, I hollered, “OH NO! Max, come quick, Camo is eating the Toddlians!”

 

‹ Prev