That put a stop to the arguing outside. “Listen,” I heard Lucy say, “I’ll be quiet for now, but the first sign of you hurting them and I’ll have you shut down and locked up.” I had to hand it to her: the girl had guts.
Max muttered something and ran back into the tent. “Are you sure they’re okay?” he asked, unlocking the lid. He picked Camo up and looked him over.
“I don’t know, he may have swallowed a couple of them. It sounded like he was chomping something.” I closed my hand around the “flash drive” in my pocket. “Better take him over to that patch of sunlight and see if there are any legs dangling out of his mouth. I’m pretty sure Toddlians are toxic to chameleons.”
While Max tried to pry Camo’s mouth open, I launched Phase Two of the operation and dumped the contents of the matchbox (a.k.a. flash drive) Duddy had given me into the tank. “Never mind, I see them now! They were hiding before. Looks like they’re all here.”
“Good. That was too close, Butroche.” He plopped Camo on the card table next to the tank. “Keep your lizard under control from now on. We only have time for one performance—two tops.”
Hmmmm. “Why don’t we have time for more performances?” I asked. “The fair goes on all weekend.”
Max glared at me, his eyebrows forming a bushy V. “Because I said so,” he said, looking over at the entrance to the tent again. “Shuddup.”
I just nodded, trying not to flinch. Stick to the plan. It’s a good plan.
Max glanced at the tank. A group of tiny dots milled around next to the trapeze. That satisfied him. “Just in time, too.” He checked his smartphone. “First show is in two minutes, and there’s a line a mile long out there. You buggers better put on a killer show, or I’ll pour ketchup on you and feed you to that fat lizard myself!”
While Max shuffled the dollars around in his money drawer, I initiated Phase Three. With one hand, I slid Camo into his carrier, and with the other I carefully brushed the matchbox over his belly. “Everybody here?” I whispered.
“Yep!” Persephone shouted. “I got ’em all corralled. They’ll do what I tell ’em, don’t fret none about that.”
I pocketed the matchbox. “Well done,” Lewis said from my hair. But we weren’t home safe yet. In fact, we were about to get to the part that had my stomach swirling.
“Come one, come all!” Max bellowed as he threw open the tent flap. “A brand-new species of tiny bug people will perform for your pleasure!”
We had fifty folding chairs set up, and they were filled in no time with little kids and grown-ups and everything in between. Max was raking in the cash, charging five bucks a person. When all the seats were full, he let a bunch more people stand wherever they could. It got hotter than snot in there real quick, but Max looked thrilled, flapping a wad of bills at me. “Xbox here I come,” he mouthed.
I squeezed into the front row to watch the action unfold. Maybe I could get swallowed up in the crowd if Max came after me.
The roar of voices in the tent died down as he locked and stowed the money drawer under the table. “Have you seen them?” asked the little boy next to me. “Are they really tiny people?”
Before I could answer, Max cued the heavy metal music and announced, “Behold, the Maxian Circus!” He adjusted the huge magnifying glass in front of the tank. “Row One, come on up and prepare to be amazed!”
I stayed in my seat while the rest of the row rushed to the tank. For a minute the only sound was the squealing of electric guitars. Then people started to laugh.
“That’s not a new species!” a man yelled.
“Those are just regular old ants!” said the boy who’d been next to me. “I have ants like that in my backyard.” He tugged on Max’s jeans. “I want my money back!”
More people crammed around the tank table. Some of them laughed. Soon everyone was shouting at once. “Give us our money back! This is a hoax! I’m going to report you! Scammer!”
“Now wait a minute! Settle down!” As Max tried to reason with them over the head-banging music, someone banged him in the head with a candied apple. “Cut it out!” Max yelped. “They were here a minute ago, I swear!”
“Yeah, right!” a teenager jeered. “What, fooling a bunch of sixth graders wasn’t enough? I heard about the fake science project you tried to pull off at your school. And now you had the nerve to take people’s money!” He hurled his drink at Max, and red slushie exploded against his chest like a gunshot wound.
Max’s face reddened to match his shirt. “I said CUT IT OUT!” He punched one fist into the other.
“FAKE!” was the teen’s reply. That caught on, and the crowd chanted, “FAKE! FAKE! FAKE! FAKE!”
Max didn’t know where to look. If he hadn’t deserved every bit of it, I’d have felt sorry for him. But then he started marching over to me, and I was busy worrying about covering my own butt. Max picked me up by my shirt. “If you had anything to do with this,” he hissed, “I’m coming by tomorrow to erase your face.”
Here was the part where I’d planned to disappear into the crowd, but he had a death grip on me. “Or better yet . . . you can pay me off with that skateboard of yours. I’ll be over to collect. Got it?”
Gulp. I opened my mouth to agree and get out of there, but that’s when a harried-looking guy in a suit burst into the tent, dragging a briefcase with KENSINGTON KNIVES stenciled on the side, a security guard trailing behind him. “There he is!” he yelled, jabbing a freckled finger in Max’s direction. “That’s the kid who told me someone had let all the air out of my tires! What’s going on here? This is my tent!”
I glanced at Max. It didn’t exactly surprise me that he hadn’t paid for the space. But he looked downright shocked that his plan had failed. The security guard walked up and grabbed his shoulder. “I think you’d better come answer some questions, kid.”
The mother of the little boy who’d been so excited to see the performance poked the officer in the back. “He stole our money!” she cried. “You should talk to him about that. Scamming birthday money from five-year-olds!”
This is my chance. I pivoted on my heel and made my escape, pushing out of the tent past the angry knife guy and the people in line for their money back. Lucy and Duddy waited at a picnic table close by.
“Did it work?” Lucy asked.
“Listen,” I panted. You could still hear “FAKE! FAKE! FAKE!” coming from the tent, then a pitch from the knife guy: “Who wants to see my remarkable Kensington Knives slice through this tin can?” I grinned at my friends. “Max pretty much threatened to kill me. But we did it!”
Lucy held her palm up, and we high-fived.
“Are they okay?” Duddy wanted to know.
I pulled the matchbox out of my pocket and slid it open. There were about fifty Toddlians inside, and they all said, “Ooooh!” when the light hit them. Lewis ran down my arm to greet them. He cheered, “HAIL GREAT TODD!” and the others joined in.
“HAIL GREAT TODD! HAIL GREAT TODD! HAIL GREAT TODD!”
CHAPTER 28
I actually got some decent sleep that night, considering Max had promised to obliterate me the next day. I think it was because I knew I’d done the right thing . . . finally.
The next morning, Daisy and I were having a little bonding time while she played with Camo in my room. My three Toddlian sidekicks were perched on my shoulder, watching the fun.
Daisy wrapped Camo’s tail around her wrist and wore him like a bracelet. He put his two-toed foot up and stroked her face, looking into her eyes. Well, one of his eyes looked into hers, anyway. I didn’t know what they’d do without each other on Monday when Camo went to stay with someone else. Maybe Daisy could tame VanderPuff next.
Naw. Not even Super Spawn could conquer the Demon Dog.
There was a soft knock and my bedroom door cracked open.
“Hey, Mom! Come on in.”
; Mom pushed open the door and looked around. Her jaw dropped.
It was one of those rare and wonderful moments when Mom had no words. Her head whipped around on her shoulders, scanning the entire room.
“Is there something you need me to do?” I asked.
If there was, she couldn’t remember it. She slowly walked over to Daisy and me.
“What . . . what happened here?”
“Uh, I cleaned.”
Mom swiped her finger across the shiny surface of my freshly dusted desk. Her eyes traveled up to the shelves that held my neatly arranged Dragon Sensei figures. She opened my Old-Englished dresser drawers and gasped when she saw the neatly folded clothes. Shaking her head, she threw the closet door wide. “I can’t believe it,” she muttered as she took in the neatly hung shirts and lined-up shoes. “I mean . . . I cannot believe it.”
Mom clicked the closet door shut and turned to me. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and inhaled. “It actually . . . Todd Galveston Butroche, it actually smells good in here. It smells like a summer meadow!”
I stood up and surveyed my spotless room. “Yeah, well, I did borrow some of your Febreze. You’re not mad, are you? I know I should have asked ’cause you go through a lot of that stuff, but it’s supposed to cover up odors . . .”
Mom eased onto my bed, careful not to wrinkle the smooth Dragon Sensei bedspread. Her eyes roved around the room again. She shook her head.
“Do you like it?”
“Do I like it?” Mom put her hands on my cheeks and smiled. I pulled back a bit, scared she was going to give me a kiss. “Do I like it?”
She laughed and looked heavenward. That’s when she saw the ceiling. I think she’d been checking to see if the green amoeba-mold that had been spreading for months was still there, but what she saw instead made her shriek and jump up. “What is that?”
I had to admit, Lewis’s special project was a shocker. Overnight, my ceiling had been painted like Rome’s Sistine Chapel. Over the center of the room was a godlike portrait of me, reaching out through the heavens, looking buff in nothing but a toga and glasses. My hair was all fluffed up and flowing, and my right hand reached out to touch Lucy’s. She wore a white lab coat and lay on a green cliff (where the splotch used to be) clutching a microscope in her hand. A winged and naked Daisy hovered near my head, her faithful Binkie dangling from her dimpled hand. Underneath us billowed the Blankie, like a colorful cloud. There was even an evil rendition of VanderPuff, with fangs, horns, and a pointed tail. My idea.
“Oh, that?” I said. “That’s uh, just something I’ve been working on.”
The Toddlians on my shoulders giggled and cooed. Mom was too stunned to say anything.
“You know, it’s not so bad having a clean room. I can find things when I need them, and I don’t have to worry about getting gunk between my toes because I’ve stepped on something squishy. Mom?”
Her mouth was hanging open and she pointed at Daisy’s Blankie on the ceiling. It was replicated exactly, purple splotches and all.
“Mom?” I gently asked her if she’d knocked for a reason.
“Oh? Oh, yes. Yes, you have a friend waiting.”
“Duddy?” I started for my door.
“No, it’s that boy who was here before. The big, hairy one.”
Max. The time had come. I swallowed the boulder that was in my throat and croaked out, “Mom, will you watch Daisy and Camo for me while I talk to him?”
“Sure,” she said, settling back down on my bed without taking her eyes off the ceiling.
The walk from the hall to the front door felt like going down death row. I half expected the Toddlians to drone, “Dead man walking,” but instead they were full of encouragement.
“Great Todd, you can do this,” Lewis whispered into my ear. “We believe in you!”
“Remember the words of Churchill,” Herman added. “You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something sometime in your life.”
“Easy for a guy with his own military to say,” I muttered.
“Let me at ’em!” Persephone hollered. “I’ve been chompin’ at the bit to pistol-whip that overgrown vermin!”
“Thanks, guys,” I said. “But there are some things I have to deal with myself.”
I took a deep breath and opened the door. Max stood there with his goons, Spud and Dick. I couldn’t see why; he surely didn’t think he needed backup against me.
He muscled his way past me into the kitchen. “Some stunt you pulled, Butroche.” There were Oreos on the counter, and he shoved a couple in his mouth and kept talking. “So was it your big idea to trade the bug people for a bunch of ants and make me look like a fool? Security showed up, and I had to pay back all that dough, plus the fifty bucks exhibition fee.”
He threw open the fridge door and pulled out a gallon of milk, guzzling straight from the jug. Spud grabbed it from him, washing down the cookies he’d swiped too.
They could mess with me, but not my sister’s milk. “Put that down!”
Spud took an extra long swig and burped. “Like to see you make me, runt.”
Max poked me in the chest, hard. “I thought we had a deal.” He backed me into the dishwasher. “I thought we understood each other.”
His milk mustache made him look like an overgrown kid, and I told myself that’s all he was—a sixth grader like me. I shrugged. “So what, you’ll take away my protection now? I’ve been bullied my whole life; I can deal with it. Whatever you do to me, it’s worth it to get the Toddlians back.”
Max lurched over me like a buzzard about to rip into some roadkill. “Oh, taking away your protection isn’t the half of it.” He straightened and pointed down the hall to my room. “I know all about your little friends, and I bet there are lots of people who’d like to meet them. I bet there are science labs that would pay big Benjamins to see the buggers.”
“Medical-testing facilities,” Dick sneered.
“Reality shows,” Spud said around a mouthful of Oreos. “Tiny Bug People Stage Moms. I would so totally watch that! You could make them do a talent competition and have—”
“Shuddup, Spud!” Max barked.
The Toddlians were having panic attacks on my shoulder, and I panicked right along with them. “You can’t do that! You wouldn’t!” I blurted. “Don’t tell anyone! Please!”
Max cracked his knuckles, one at a time. I didn’t breathe. Finally, he leaned down, and his eyes went to slits. “I’ll keep a lid on it, for now . . . but it’s gonna cost ya.” He straightened and crossed his arms. “To start . . . you owe me one skateboard.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. This was what I’d been afraid of. I told myself it was better than a beating, but it still sucked. Sacrifice, Todd.
“Follow me,” I muttered, and threw open the garage door.
The skateboard rack Dad had built had flames cut out of the sides and held three boards. I knew he’d had to pull extra shifts to get the supplies, and I felt worse about his blown money than anything else.
I always hung my board on the top rack, but for some reason it was on the bottom one. Weird. Maybe Dad had been practicing after work. He’d said he was a decent skater as a kid, “back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.”
I took the board down and ran my hand over the smooth maple deck and the black-and-white letters. It was called the Psycho Insanity, and the H in PSYCHO had shoes on and was doing an ollie. Goodbye, coolest board ever.
“It’s extra wide and has a double kick deck,” I whispered. “The trucks are Independent, and the wheels are made by Bones, in case you ever need to replace them.” I gave the front wheels one last spin and handed it over. “She’s all yours.”
Max ripped it out of my hands and grinned. “Been wanting one of these a long time. This is way nicer than your old Zero, Nixy.”
He hau
led it to the driveway and hopped on.
That’s when a tiny voice sounded from the top of my sleeve. “GERONIMO!”
The Toddlian trio suddenly hurled themselves off my shoulder, then sailed through the air and onto the skateboard trailing . . . dental floss? Floss flew over and under the board again and again, lashing Max’s feet to the deck. He freaked and tried to get free but couldn’t budge. Dick and Spud stood on the driveway, staring openmouthed at the skateboard.
“BUTROCHE!” Max hollered. “What in—”
That’s all he got out before there was a whirring sound, like a dentist’s drill. Then I saw it: a tiny motor attached to the underside of the deck. It was painted silver to match the rear trucks.
I couldn’t believe what happened next. The Insanity shot forward and nearly flattened Spud and Dick, who jumped out of the way just in time. “Help me!” Max yelped as he whizzed by. They didn’t move a muscle.
The skateboard zoomed down the sloping drive, then made a wide U-turn to head up the hill to the garage. Max flailed to keep his balance, but it was clear he couldn’t stay up for long. “Make it stop!” he cried. “Please! Make it . . .” He looked up, and as he spotted something in the distance, he went white. His unibrow shot up and his beady eyes went huge.
When I turned to see what had him so wigged, I almost fell over. Standing in the middle of the garage was . . . ME! Well, it was actually the metal statue Lewis had made of me, only totally reworked and much more realistic. It was dressed in the Emperor Oora costume the Toddlians had been helping me make for Duddy’s party. The metal me looked amazing in a massive purple cape, complete with iridescent dragon scales and black Boom Shroom baby-doll heads. I had to admit, it was a jaw-dropper.
The creepiest part was the green smoke that came out of the Boom Shrooms’ mouths and eyes. It looked and smelled like the sulfury stuff I’d seen simmering in Lucy’s chemistry lab. Man, that statue was scary.
Max sure thought so. He shrieked and jerked his legs, trying to free his feet. The Insanity popped out behind him. He flapped his arms like a flaming chicken then did a belly buster onto the concrete. Even I had never wiped out with such epic awesomeness.
By the Grace of Todd Page 14
