by Nate Ball
She gave a small, nervous laugh. “You look cute.” She punched me on the arm.
“Oh, brother,” I said.
“They’re coming,” Olivia’s grandfather noted, climbing into the cab of his truck through the passenger side. He had Amp’s spaceship under his arm. “Let’s go, you two.”
Seconds later we were driving along the twisting road that ran through the woods. The helicopters were still buzzing around in the sky, so we had to drive with the headlights off. Nobody spoke. My fingers gripped the dashboard so hard, they ached.
“Is he really in there?” Olivia’s grandfather said, stealing a glance down at the spaceship that now sat in Olivia’s lap. “Your friend? Is he really inside that thing?”
“Yes, Grandpa,” Olivia said. “You’ll like him. He’s weird, but he’s totally harmless.”
“He’s normally not so shy,” I said. “Honestly, he never stops jabbering. You want to meet him?”
“Not right now. Let’s keep him in there, okay?” he said quietly.
“Oh, Amp kind of does what he wants when he wants,” Olivia explained. “In fact, he usually does exactly what you don’t want him to do.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, Grandpa, for keeping Amp a secret. Zack and I decided not to tell anyone.”
“We thought that would be best for everybody,” I put in.
He grunted, his face pushed out over the steering wheel to better concentrate on the road.
Then Olivia’s grandfather braked suddenly and peered at the woods on the right side.
“Did you see something?” I asked with alarm. “What is it?”
“A bear?” Olivia said. “A deer? Army guys? Aliens? Bigfoot?”
He shushed us and slowed the truck even more. He flipped on the parking lights, which lit the road in front of us with a dim yellow glow. I was glad to have even a little bit of light to guide us, but now we were barely moving.
“Are we running out of gas?” Olivia asked. “That would not be good timing.”
“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” I asked, searching his face, which was now lit by the weak light coming from the dashboard. I could see his face was creased with focus.
I kept turning around to look down the road behind us, expecting to see army truck headlights glaring.
“Yeah, a potty break right now would be pretty lame, Grandpa,” Olivia said. She turned to me. “Sometimes people Grandpa’s age can’t help—”
“Shush, you two,” he said. We were now going about only five miles per hour. “They’ll set up roadblocks at the end of this valley.”
We thought about that for a moment.
“That is so intense,” Olivia said quietly.
“There it is,” Olivia’s grandfather said with relief in his voice.
We turned slowly off the smooth main road and onto a bumpy gravel path. The truck squeaked and groaned in protest.
A dim, single lightbulb appeared out of the darkness above a cracked and faded sign that said BENNETT LAKE PARK.
I checked behind us one last time as we left the road; nobody was in hot pursuit. Yet.
“Came to fish here a few times,” Olivia’s grandfather said, and sighed. “Terrible fishing. Trout no bigger than your hand.”
After a minute a locked gate appeared in front of us next to a deserted ranger station hut where people must have to pay to enter the park during fishing season. The truck turned and rolled slowly into the small dirt parking space next to the hut. We parked with most of the truck pushed into the bushes. I could hear a few twigs snap as the truck moved forward. The branches of a giant tree slapped at the top of the truck’s cab and hung low over its bed. It was a good hiding place.
“Wait, is this a potty break?” Olivia asked.
“Nope,” Olivia’s grandfather said, turning the key and plunging us into silence.
We sat in the dark. The engine clicked and gurgled as it cooled down. I heard an owl hoot nearby.
“We are going to break into that ranger station and use it to figure out a plan.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” I asked.
“Oh, I imagine we’ve already broken a few dozen federal and state laws tonight,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice.
I rubbed my chilled arms. “Do you think we’re on the FBI’s ten most wanted list?” I asked.
“No”—Olivia’s grandfather sighed—“but the night is still young.”
“You can meet Amp when we get inside,” Olivia said excitedly. “He’s never really met an adult before. He is so funny.”
“We also might want to discuss preventing the destruction of Earth and everyone who lives on it,” I mumbled.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo credit: Jeff Lieberman
NATE BALL is the host of the Emmy and Peabody award–winning PBS reality shows Design Squad and Design Squad Nation. An MIT graduate with a Master’s Degree in mechanical engineering, Nate is also the cofounder of Atlas Devices, a two-time All-American pole-vaulter, and a competitive beatboxer. He lives with his wife and son in Cambridge, Massachusetts. You can find him online at www.alieninmypocket.com.
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CREDITS
Cover art by Macky Pamintuan
Design by Jeff Shake
COPYRIGHT
ALIEN IN MY POCKET: TELESCOPE TROUBLES. Text by Nate Ball, copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers. Illustrations by Macky Pamintuan, copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress catalog card number: 2015005994
ISBN 978-0-06-237089-1 (trade bdg.)—ISBN 978-0-06-237088-4 (pbk.)
EPub Edition © December 2015 ISBN 9780062370907
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FIRST EDITION
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