by Hasbro
He zoomed in on individual cells. He saw a big console television in a living room. Another cell displayed framed photos hanging on a wall, photos of Charlie and her family. Another cell offered a view of a window, and Bumblebee could see through the window and beyond it, to the birds outside, and the ocean, and—
The door that Bumblebee had been leaning on creaked, snapped from its hinges, and collapsed onto the kitchen floor. Bumblebee emitted a guilty-sounding buzz as he examined the wrecked door. But because he was curious and also knew that he and Conan were alone in the house, he decided to look around some more.
He was still viewing multiple hexagonal cells through his visor as he squeezed through the open doorway and into the kitchen. He saw a rectangular table with chairs made of wood and tubular steel. He also saw that the kitchen had a high ceiling, with crisscrossing wooden beams. He stood up and accidentally bumped his head on a light fixture. His vision-enhancing visor automatically retracted into his head, and he jerked his neck back in surprise.
He wondered where Conan had gone and began to explore the kitchen. He was fascinated by the shapes and possible uses for various objects on the shelves of a tall buffet that extended up to the ceiling. He saw a can of soda on a counter. Remembering the day he and Charlie had visited a clearing in a nearby forest, and how he’d tried opening a similar can but somehow caused its fizzy contents to explode, he kept his distance.
He moved on to the living room. He thought he was being careful, but he failed to notice he was leaving a trail of damaged floor tiles and scratched woodwork.
An enormous sofa was positioned in front of the big console television and a fireplace. Bumblebee shuffled around the sofa and tried to sit on it. The sofa’s legs snapped beneath his weight, and its entire frame collapsed.
He got up from the ruined sofa and made his way back to the kitchen, where he began examining electrical appliances and assorted gadgets. He leaned in close to study a coffee maker with a built-in analog clock. He extended a finger, and a tiny metallic probe popped out from the end of it. He maneuvered the probe against the clock’s metal hands and began spinning them.
The coffee machine made a loud ping. Bumblebee didn’t expect it to produce the sudden burst of hot water that struck the machine’s hot plate with a hissing noise. Frightened, he grabbed the coffee machine and yanked it off the counter. The machine’s power cord popped out of its electrical socket in the wall.
Bumblebee was relieved that the machine stopped working. He noticed the black plastic cord that dangled from the machine’s side. Just then, Conan wandered into the kitchen, whining. Bumblebee looked at Conan’s tail, then looked again at the machine’s plastic cord, which wasn’t moving at all. He wondered what the cord was for.
He glanced at the other small appliances, a toaster and a blender, which were also on the counter. He saw that their plastic cords were plugged into sockets in the wall. He also noticed a socket with nothing plugged into it. He was still holding the coffeemaker with one hand as he reached out with his other and extended the metal probe on the end of his giant finger and pushed the probe into the socket.
Electricity surged into Bumblebee’s hand, causing it to glow white with energy… and also causing eight city blocks to lose power. Bumblebee’s entire body shook and rattled, and a strange green energy flowed out from his hand and into the household circuitry. The socket in front of his finger exploded with sparks. He fell over backward onto the floor, crushing the tiles beneath him. He was out cold.
As he lay sprawled across the damaged floor, the green energy traveled along the house’s wiring and branched up and out. One branch went down and around through a series of breakers until it entered the back of the refrigerator. Other branches flooded into more large and small appliances.
The refrigerator started shuddering. The dishwasher began rocking back and forth. Loud noises came from the closet where the washer and dryer were. The big console television flickered on and off.
And then the appliances really came to life.
Memo was climbing onto his bike, about to ride off to his summer job, when he heard the sound of smashing glass from inside Charlie’s house. He knew Charlie was at work and was pretty sure the rest of her family wasn’t at home, either, but he also knew that Charlie had left Bumblebee in the garage. So when he heard more smashing noises, he was more than curious. He was worried.
He scooted his bike over to Charlie’s house, left the bike near the front door, and crept up near the kitchen window. He flinched as something crashed inside the house. Nervous, he peeked through the window.
“Oh no,” he said. “Oh-no-oh-no.” He jumped away from the window and sprinted back to his house. Once inside, he ran to his living room, grabbed the telephone, and started dialing.
Charlie was refilling the ketchup containers at the hot dog stand when her supervisor, Craig, stuck his head out his office door and said, “You have a personal call.” He didn’t sound happy.
Charlie went into the office. Craig watched her as she picked up the phone on his desk, then he turned his attention to a small stack of paperwork. Charlie said, “Hello?”
“Charlie, it’s Memo! You need to come home right now!”
Charlie didn’t want to appear alarmed in front of Craig. Trying to sound calm, she said, “What are you talking about?”
“Your house,” Memo said over the phone. “It’s… alive.”
Chapter 11
Memo was standing on the lawn in front of Charlie’s house, waiting for her, when she returned on her moped. The moped’s tires screeched as she brought it to a stop. She jumped off, letting it fall to the ground.
“It’s bad,” Memo said. “It’s really, really bad.”
They ran to the front door, and Charlie shoved it open. Food and water were scattered across the living room floor, along with broken china and splintered wood. Deep scratches lined the walls. And then Charlie and Memo noticed the washer, which had grown stumpy metal legs and was walking in circles, leaking soapy water onto a rug.
But the washer wasn’t the only appliance walking around. The refrigerator, dishwasher, and console television were also on the loose, lumbering around the house and breaking things. And the appliances had grown more than legs. They had bizarre combinations of arms, legs, eyes, and mouths.
The dishwasher made a gagging noise as it started throwing dinner plates across the living room. One plate smashed into Otis’s video game console, shattering it. Charlie and Memo ducked, barely avoiding two plates that wound up crashing into the wall behind them. The dishwasher whipped another plate at Charlie, which smacked her in the forehead.
“Ouch!” she shouted. “Where’s Bumblebee?”
Bumblebee’s yellow head popped up from behind the kitchen counter. He looked sheepish and ashamed. Charlie ducked again as a coffee mug whizzed past her head. She said, “Bee! What did you do? What were you thinking? I told you to stay in the garage!”
Bumblebee lowered his head and crumpled, changing back to Beetle form in the middle of the living room.
“Great,” Charlie said. “Helpful shame spiral, Bee.”
The refrigerator lurched across the floor on tiny feet and lunged for Memo, opening and shutting its freezer door like a set of jaws. Memo grabbed a pillow from the ruined sofa, shoved it into the freezer, and slammed its door, trying to jam it up. The refrigerator paused, then made a gurgling noise followed by a loud burp. The refrigerator’s door popped open, and pillow feathers flew out.
The refrigerator also contained a very anxious Conan. The dog jumped free of the refrigerator and ran around to hide behind the Beetle. Memo looked at the menacing appliances and said, “What are these things?” Suddenly, something on his left jerked into motion, and he turned to see the refrigerator coming at him again, its freezer door snapping at his head.
But just before the refrigerator could reach Memo, it shuddered and stopped, and then its feet retracted and vanished into its metal frame. Memo stared at what appe
ared to be an ordinary refrigerator. Charlie popped up from behind it, clutching a pair of pliers and a handful of wires and circuit boards that she’d yanked from the refrigerator’s electrical system. The circuit boards were still glowing with green energy. She tossed the fried bits to the floor and shrugged, and the green energy fizzled before fading out. Then she saw the console television move across the living room, walking on a pair of long legs.
As Charlie tried to tackle the television, the washing machine lunged at Memo. He jumped on top of it and clung to it as he tried to reach its wiring. The washer began to spin like a top, whipping around and around in a tight circle. Memo said, “I think I’m going to barf.”
The television dodged Charlie and walked over to a large mirror that hung on the wall. As images from random TV shows and bursts of static flickered across the screen, the television appeared to be fascinated by its reflection. Charlie tried to grab the television again, but it sidestepped her before it returned to the mirror, admiring itself.
“You look fine, okay?” Charlie said. She sprang forward, grabbed the television, and slammed it into the wall. The television tried to shake her off, but she locked her pliers onto its power cable and tugged. The television released a noisy burst of static as she tore the power cable out, and then its legs retracted into the console’s base, but before it was properly balanced on the floor. The television wobbled, crashed against the floor, and cracked its glass screen.
As Charlie rose from the busted television, she heard a high-pitched electronic shriek. She turned and saw her alarm clock, which had changed into something that looked like a miniature robot monster. The alarm clock shrieked again, and Charlie almost jumped out of her skin. She swung her pliers at the screaming creature, but it skittered away and under an armchair.
Memo managed to disable the washing machine with his bare hands and turned his attention to the dishwasher. The dishwasher’s door was open, and it was still hurling dinnerware all over the place. Memo dodged a thrown plate, weaved around the dishwasher, and threw himself headfirst into the open machine. The dishwasher thrashed back and forth, trying to eject Memo as he pulled away a filter and tried to reach the wiring.
Charlie darted over to a closet, opened it, and pulled out a baseball bat. Gripping the bat with one hand, she went to the armchair the alarm clock creature was using for a hiding place. “I’ve wanted to do this a long time,” she said. She looked under the armchair. The creature was gone.
But then its earsplitting shriek came from behind her. Charlie spun and saw the alarm clock jumping up and down. She swung her bat at it but missed, smashing a vase instead. The alarm clock blared a mocking chitter as it ran off again.
Memo’s head and upper body were still lodged inside the dishwasher as it tried to shake him loose. Just as he reached the machine’s wiring, the dishwasher started to compress its frame in an effort to crush the human intruder. The machine’s metal casing pressed against Memo as he tore out its circuitry. The dishwasher reverted to normal and went still. Memo pushed himself out of it and heard Charlie yell, “Shut up!”
She was yelling at the alarm clock and had resumed swinging her baseball bat at it. The alarm clock moved behind the sofa and made demented chirping and shrieking noises as it popped up and down, taunting Charlie. Charlie swung hard, and the bat connected, sending the alarm clock flying across the room and into a wall. The broken alarm clock fell to the floor, landed amid bits of broken dishes, and went silent.
Charlie and Memo looked at each other, and then they looked around. The house was a disaster. Bumblebee, still in Beetle form, remained parked in the living room. But the battle was over.
Looking again at Memo, Charlie said, “You okay?”
“I think so.”
Charlie walked over to the Beetle. She placed her hand on the hood and said, “Bee, you’ve got to get out of here. I’m not mad. This is my fault. I never should have left you.”
The Beetle’s plating and other parts shifted as Bumblebee started to change into robot form, but Charlie said, “Maybe don’t change all the way? We’ve got to get you back through the door.”
Bumblebee tried to keep his body low and his arms close to his sides as Memo and Charlie guided him toward the ruined doorway to the garage. He managed to make it through, but because of his size and weight, he couldn’t help inflicting more damage to the floor and woodwork. Once he had returned to the garage, Charlie looked back at the shambles of her house and said, “I’m in so much trouble.”
But in the back of her mind, she had to wonder: If Bumblebee could cause this much damage by accident, what would intentional damage look like?
Sally picked up Otis at the karate dojo and drove straight home. She parked in their driveway, and they both got out. Otis was sucking on a lollipop as he said, “Hey, Mom, let me show you what I learned today.”
“Sure, show me.”
“Hi-yah!” Otis said before he moved around her, jumping and kicking and swinging at the air. One swing whizzed close to the back of Sally’s head. “Hi-yah! And now you’re crippled for life.”
“Neat, honey,” Sally said. “Watch the hair.”
Inside the house, Charlie heard Sally’s voice and looked at Memo. She and Memo had tried to reestablish order by pushing the broken appliances back into place, but the kitchen and living room still looked like disaster zones.
“Get out of here!” Charlie said to Memo. Memo scrambled toward the garage. Charlie ran fast for the front door, hoping to intercept her mother. “Mom, wait—!”
She was too late. The door swung open. Sally saw the ruined walls, floors, and furniture, and also the broken dishes. Then she looked at Charlie, and her face dropped.
Otis walked in behind Sally. He saw the wreckage, and the lollipop fell out of his mouth.
Sally said, “Oh my—”
“Okay,” Charlie said. “Hold on a sec.”
“Charlie, what the—?”
Otis shouted, “What’d you do to my TV?!” He stepped over and around the debris to inspect the console television. He looked queasy as he stared at its cracked screen. Then he noticed the remains of his video game system. He turned and fixed his gaze on Charlie. “You monster.”
Charlie looked from Otis to her mother. “You guys—”
Sally snapped and said, “What happened in here, Charlie?!”
Otis said, “You better ground her for literal life, Mom.”
Charlie was thinking about how she could answer her mother’s question when she looked through the broken doorway and into the garage. She saw Bumblebee changing back to car form as Memo gestured for her to come to them.
“Mom, I’ll explain later,” Charlie said. “I can’t right now. I have to go.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sally said. “You’re not going anywhere!”
Charlie gestured to the doorway to the garage. “It’s about my car, and it’s really important.”
“About your car?” Sally shook her head. “No, no, no. I’ve had it with this. You spend all day and night shut in that garage with that car!”
“Mom, I really can’t—”
“No, you really can, Charlie. I’ve had enough.” Sally’s face had turned red. “Your attitude, the constant sulking around, bringing home that wreck without even asking me. Everybody in this house is trying to be happy, and all you want to do is make things harder.”
Charlie felt her chin trembling. Trying to sound calm, she said, “I’m so glad you and Ron and Otis are so happy, all three of you, with your new life together. But I can’t just put on a smile and pretend Dad didn’t die. I still miss him. I still hurt. But you don’t care about me or how I’m feeling. The only time it matters to you is when it’s ruining your good time. Well, sorry for bringing down your mood, Mom, but don’t worry. In ten months, none of us will ever have to deal with each other.”
Charlie turned and stormed off, heading to the garage. Sally yelled, “Charlie!”
Memo was in the Beetle. Charlie
jumped in behind the wheel and said, “Go.”
Bumblebee drove out of the garage and peeled off, carrying Charlie and Memo away from the cul-de-sac. Charlie was silent as Bumblebee steered onto a winding road. Memo looked at her and said, “You okay?”
Charlie thought, Nope. But she said, “Yep.”
“Look,” Memo said, “if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But you seem pretty upset, so…”
Charlie gazed at the road ahead and considered whether she wanted to tell Memo why she was upset. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “I just feel like ever since my dad died, I’ve become this drain on everyone, and I hate it.…” She looked out the side window as she tried to sort out words to describe her feelings. “Trust me, I want to move on and feel better… it’s just… his stuff is everywhere in that house, all around me. And I can’t handle looking at it. But I can’t handle not looking at it, either.…” She returned her gaze to the road in front of Bumblebee. “Everything will be better when I can just leave and go someplace to start over.”
Memo looked through the front window, too. “I didn’t know your dad passed away. I’m really sorry.”
Charlie glanced at Memo. She sensed his sincerity and appreciated his condolences, but words caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say.
Memo said, “There’s this quote for hard times.… I’m not a big ‘quote’ guy, but I’ve always liked it.”
Charlie waited for him to continue. “Yeah?”
“‘The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.’”
