by David Lubar
“Maybe a little bit,” I said. “But not enough to deserve this.”
“We can’t get out,” Krista said. “Wait—that means you’re trapped, too.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to get any of us trapped.” I guess I felt a little bit bad for Noah, getting caught up in this with us.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “You aren’t trapped. A maze isn’t a prison. It has to have an exit. You can get out.”
“How?” I asked.
“Easy. Just do a left-hand search.” He raised his own left hand, as if it explained everything. “That always works, unless there’s a king’s chamber. And that’s not hard to deal with, either. I suspect this maze is probably trivial. So the left-hand search is the smart place to start.”
Krista and I stared at him. We had no idea what he was talking about.
He sighed and got up. “Okay, I’ll show you. Follow me.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Yeah, thanks. That’s really nice of you,” Krista said.
Noah walked into the hall. Then, he put his left hand on the wall next to him. “If we just keep walking, and always keep a hand on the wall to our left, we’ll get out after walking around the entire part of the maze between us and the exit.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” I said.
“Do you want to go back to wandering?” Noah asked.
“No. We’ll try your way,” Krista said. “I think it makes sense.”
“Good answer,” Noah said. “Oh, and by the way, most people call it a right-hand search. But I’m a lefty.” He tapped the wall, as if to emphasize this, and headed down the hallway.
So we followed him. We walked pretty far. But I’m pretty sure we didn’t come back to the same spot over and over, like we’d done before. Anytime we passed a spot I recognized, we were going in the opposite direction from when we first passed it. I was actually starting to understand what we were doing.
“There’s the exit!” Krista shouted as we turned a corner and found ourselves facing the front door.
“It worked!” I said.
“Of course it worked.” Noah shrugged, as if saving us from wandering around the school all summer was no big deal. Then, he turned away.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Back to the library,” he said.
“But school’s out. Summer is here,” I said. “The place will be empty.”
Noah glanced back over his shoulder at us and smiled.
“I know,” he said. “I’ve been waiting all year for this.”
Then he put his right hand on the wall, and walked off.
RIDE ’EM, TENDERFOOT!
I see my cousins Bobby and Irene twice a year. They come out to San Jose in the winter, and my family and I go out to Montana in the summer. They live about an hour away from Billings. We usually have a good time together. But they were really distracted this year. There was a new junior rodeo coming to town right toward the end of my visit, and they were both practicing real hard for the events they planned to enter.
Irene was going to do calf roping and barrel riding. Bobby was signed up for calf roping and bull riding.
“I want to do that,” I said when they told me about the events. “Bull riding looks like fun.”
“Forget it,” Bobby said. “You’ll get killed. It’s not as easy as it looks. I’ve been training for months.”
“How hard can it be?” I asked. I turned toward my parents. “Can I do it?”
“It does sound dangerous,” my mom said.
“I do BMX,” I said. “I ride down mountains. Dad took me rock climbing last fall.”
Mom and Dad exchanged looks. I could tell I was going to get what I wanted. They aren’t super-protective, like some of my friends’ parents. Dad and I love roller coasters, and Mom and I went for a balloon ride last year for my birthday.
So I had permission from them. And I was really eager to show Bobby that a city kid from the left coast, as he called California, could do just as well as a cowboy. Or cowkid, or whatever he was.
My cousins didn’t have a bull to practice with, so they used a calf. I followed them out to the barn when they were ready for a session. The calf wasn’t super-interested in throwing anybody off. But at least that gave Bobby a chance to show me the basics.
Of course, the whole time he was telling me about the right way to sit, and all that stuff, he kept adding, “You’re going to get slaughtered. The top of a bull is no place for a cowboy-wannabe tenderfoot Weenie.”
I wasn’t worried.
At least, I wasn’t worried before the rodeo started. And I was fine for the first batch of events. It was exciting watching my cousins rope calves and ride around a row of barrels as fast as they could. Irene took second place in both her events, and Bobby took third in roping.
And then, I got my first look at the bulls we’d be riding.
Bobby, who was sitting next to me in the stands, must have felt my body jolt when I saw the beasts.
“Not at all like a calf, huh?” he said, grinning.
“It does look kind of big,” I said. “Are you sure it’s not a dinosaur?” I tried to picture myself sitting on it.
“You can back out. Nobody will make fun of you for that,” he said.
“No way,” I said.
“I guess you’re going to get killed,” he said.
“I guess you’re going to be surprised.” I followed him down to the contestant area. Everyone looked excited and nervous. Except for the bulls. They looked annoyed. This was not a good sign.
I was going to be the last rider. That was nice. It would give me a chance to watch everyone else, and maybe even learn a thing or two, besides what Bobby had taught me.
I didn’t learn much from the first rider. He lasted about half a second. The bull twisted and bucked, and the kid went flying through the air. I flinched as he hit the ground. Two guys dressed like clowns distracted the bull so the kid could crawl to safety. He was limping, but he didn’t look like he’d taken any permanent damage.
“That didn’t seem so bad,” I said. “I fall harder than that all the time.”
Bobby just snorted. He sounded sort of like a bull. But a small one.
The next two kids did a bit better, and then another one got tossed immediately.
“Maybe you can beat his record for shortest ride,” Bobby said.
“Do they give a prize for that?” I asked.
‘Nope.” He shook his head. Then, he said, “I’m up next. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” I said. I meant it. I wanted him to do well. The better he did, the more I’d enjoy beating his score. Though I still didn’t really understand how the scoring worked. Not that it mattered. I was going to stay on the bull until it gave up and accepted me as its rider.
Bobby took his seat. They opened the gate, letting the bull out. It bucked hard, and he almost flew off, but he held on.
“Go, Bobby!” I screamed as he survived a series of twists, turns, jolts, and bucks. Finally, a rider came over and scooped him off the bull. I guess he’d gone as far as he had to.
After two more kids got flung through the air like pancakes flipped off a hot griddle, it was my turn.
The bull was definitely not a calf.
The instant I got on, I realized I’d made a huge mistake. I felt like I was sitting on the world’s largest coiled steel spring.
“Stop!” I screamed just as the gate opened.
At that point, stop stopped being an option.
Seven thousand pounds of muscle set its mind to throwing me off.
Somehow, I hung on. Fear is a great way to inspire people to cling to things.
And then, the bull did something it hadn’t done before. It thrust its head down so far its nose almost touched the ground and kicked up its hind legs. I slid right off, headfirst. I tucked my head, rolled, and landed on my back, right at the bull’s front hooves, staring up at his snout. I leaped to my feet. I knew I had
to get away.
Before I could escape, the bull leaped on top of me.
Yeah, I know it’s hard to picture, but that’s what he did. He landed right on my shoulders. If this surprises you, think how I felt. Something gave me the strength to take a step. And then, I took another. And then, I got angry, which gave me even more strength.
I twisted. I bucked. I jolted and spun. I was afraid he’d stay on forever. Finally, with two sudden twists and a sharp shrug of my shoulders, I threw the bull off and staggered out of the arena.
Nobody in the crowd seemed surprised. I guess there’s a lot about rodeo I still didn’t know.
Bobby got a first-place trophy. I didn’t get anything. But the bull did. He got second place for his ride.
I think I’m done with bull riding.
BOOM!
My friends and I always get together to watch the fireworks on the Fourth of July. We used to have to go downtown to the football stadium at the high school. But they switched things up this year, and were shooting them off right across the river, on an old concrete dock, so we’d get a good view from the park that’s down the road from my house.
There’s a small outdoor stage right by the riverbank, with plenty of seats facing the water. That would be a perfect spot to enjoy the show. It was just starting to get dark when we set out, so we knew we wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
“I wish we had some fireworks,” my friend Dwight said.
“Me, too. It would be great to have anything,” I said. Fireworks weren’t legal here. My cousin lives down South. Whenever I visit him he has these awesome rockets, and all sorts of stuff.
“Even a couple small firecrackers would be nice,” Dwight said.
That’s when Candace tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Guess what?” She’s my neighbor, and a friend. She’s also a fireworks Weenie. She’ll go anywhere there’s a display, or even a couple skyrockets or Roman candles, like they shoot off on Friday nights at the local minor league baseball games.
“What?” I asked.
“I found this in the back of a closet at my uncle’s house.” She held up something that looked like a small stick of dynamite.
Just then, a loud boom startled me. I actually felt the ground shake a little. I looked at the flash of light in the sky above the river. They’d shot up a test rocket. I knew about that. They test three or four of the fireworks before the show, to make sure things run smoothly. Everyone except my neighbor Toby jumped. I guess he didn’t even hear the boom.
I looked back at Candace and pointed to the thing in her hand. “What is that? It’s huge.”
“Quarter stick,” Dwight said.
“No way,” Candace said. “Those are a lot smaller.”
“What do you think, Toby?” I asked.
He was standing there, bobbing his head in time with his music. He always had headphones on. They played music and also cancelled noise. It was a pain trying to get his attention. But he knew all kinds of things, and I figured he’d have a good idea about fireworks. I reached out and lifted one of the headphones. Once I knew I had his attention, I repeated my question.
“That’s a half stick,” he said. “It makes a big bang. Be careful. It will take your hand right off, and the rest of your arm, too.”
Fear and excitement wrestled in my gut. Fear lost.
“We have to do it,” I said.
The others nodded.
“Where?” Dwight asked. “We’ll get in trouble if we blow anything up.”
“The cave!” Candace said.
“Great idea,” I said. The cave was really just a place where some boulders had fallen off the side of a cliff and ended up in a pile. There was an open area at the bottom of the pile, big enough for a small kid to sneak into when we played hide-and-seek.
We crossed the park, and reached the cave.
As Candace put the half stick down inside the opening, another boom startled me. I watched the flash from the test rocket fade. If I could feel the explosion from so far away, maybe it was a bad idea for us to light the half stick.
“Step back,” Candace said. She pulled a pack of matches from her pocket and knelt down. “We don’t want to be close when it goes off.”
“Be careful,” I said. I realized it was too late to stop her. And I guess I still really wanted to see what would happen. Maybe I was a bit of a fireworks Weenie, too.
The rest of us backed off far enough to reach one of the old oak trees. We stepped behind it for cover. Candace lit the fuse, then ran to join us.
I think we were still too close. The explosion was way louder than I’d expected. Even with the tree between me and the cave, the force of the blast almost knocked me off my feet. The flash dazzled me. Candace and Dwight looked pretty stunned, too. Toby looked fine. He was still bobbing his head to the music. I felt sort of sorry for him because he missed out on so much.
“Wow,” I said as the boom from the half stick rang in my ears. “That was—”
I didn’t finish my sentence. The ground shook so hard, I staggered, bumping into the tree, and then into Dwight. We grabbed each other to steady ourselves.
But unlike with the fireworks, the shaking didn’t stop.
It got worse.
“I think we broke something!” Candace yelled.
She was right. The ground collapsed beneath us. We fell into a pit.
“We started an earthquake!” I said.
I wish I’d been right about that. But as we got back to our feet in the pit, I saw we’d done something far worse.
All of us screamed as the monster we’d awakened burst from the crumbled ground and rose to full height. He looked like a man made of stone and steel. He had the face of a bat, with huge, pointed ears, and the arms of a body builder. He stomped his foot, and the ground trembled again. I was afraid the earth would open up even wider and swallow us into a bottomless pit.
Another boom shook the sky. I guess they’d fired a third test rocket.
The monster howled in rage and spun toward the firework. Then, he punched a boulder, shattering it.
“It’s the sound,” Candace said. “He hates it.”
The monster turned back toward us. His eyes locked on mine. He staggered toward me.
I searched for any way to escape. The sides of the pit were too steep to climb quickly. I pictured myself getting slammed with a fist that could shatter a boulder. There was no way I’d survive that. I had to do something to save us.
As the monster closed the distance between us, I reached out and snatched Toby’s headphones.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“Sorry.” I leaped toward the monster, reached up as high as I could, and slipped the headphones over his ears.
I hoped I’d made the right decision.
He froze. His forehead wrinkled, like he was thinking hard. Then, his head started bobbing to the music. There was another boom in the sky. He didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he turned away and burrowed back under the ground.
“You saved us,” Candace said.
“I guess…” I was still too dazzled by everything to think clearly. But I suppose she was right. I really did save us.
“My headphones…” Toby said.
“Quiet,” I said. “We’ll get you another pair.”
So we went and watched the fireworks. They were great. And I only flinched a little whenever a loud boom shook the air.
TOOTH TROUBLE
Lyle and Debbie argued about everything. They argued about who could run faster. (Lyle was a better sprinter. Debbie was better at long distances. But neither of them was especially fast.) They argued about who was smarter. (The best answer was probably “neither.”) They even argued about who was a better arguer. (They were both excellent in that area.)
They were Weenies in so many different ways, it was pointless to even try to classify them. They were also neighbors, and their parents were best friends. Which meant they ended up on vacation together all the time. This gave them al
l that much more to argue about. Especially now, when they were with their parents at the beach.
“It’s windy,” Lyle said as he spread out his towel on the sand.
“Not really,” Debbie said. “It’s just breezy. But it’s definitely hot.”
“I’ve felt a lot hotter weather,” Lyle said. “This is just warm.”
“Look, I see a dolphin,” Debbie said.
“No, you don’t. That’s a log,” Lyle said. “But check out at that seagull!”
“It’s not a seagull,” Debbie said. “It’s a tern.”
And so it went.
Eventually, Lyle decided to go for a walk. “I’m the world’s best shell spotter,” he said as he got up from his towel. “I can find all the rarest ones.”
“I’m better,” Debbie said, springing up to dash ahead of him. “I can discover shells nobody has ever found before.”
They combed the beach with their eyes, finding mostly broken clamshells, pieces of horseshoe-crab shell, and pebbles. And then, Lyle shouted, “Shark tooth!”
He thrust his hand out, pointing at a spot three feet ahead of him.
“Saw it first!” Debbie shouted as she flung herself through the air, landing on the tooth. She bounced back to her feet, holding the tooth out for Lyle to see.
“That’s mine!” he shouted. He rushed at Debbie, hands out, ready to snatch back his treasure.
“Finders keepers,” Debbie said. She faked left, then cut right, causing Lyle to totally miss when he tried to grab the tooth.
“Can’t catch me!” Debbie yelled. She ran into the water, crashing through the surf as waves fell on the shore.
