The Gravity Keeper

by Michael Reisman

  “Just watch me again and you’ll see how easy it is,” Simon said. Once again, he jumped up as hard as he could; this time, his jump sent him hurtling about five hundred feet in the air!

  Just think about it: the biggest, redwood-size trees in Dunkerhook Woods are about two hundred feet tall. The Statue of Liberty is about three hundred feet tall. The Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt is four hundred and eighty-one feet high. And Simon jumped higher than all of those.

  His leap carried him far above the trees, and for a few seconds, he was able to see the tops of houses, the top of his school, the top of the huge town water tower. He could see all of Lawnville—in fact, several neighboring towns—spread out around him. He didn’t have much time to enjoy it, though.

  Simon yelped as a gust of wind hit him. This wasn’t the gentle, energizing Breeze; he was too far above Dunkerhook Woods for that. No, this was real wind, the kind of gust that sends kites soaring hopelessly out of control and balloons far beyond their owners’ grasp.

  At one-five-hundredth g, Simon weighed about the same as two candy bars—fortunately, more than a balloon or a kite. Also, his mass hadn’t changed, so he wouldn’t be blown away too swiftly. Still, the wind was strong enough to move him; instead of gently descending back down to where Owen waited, he drifted away.

  Simon’s first reaction was panic. What if he landed in the middle of a highway and got smashed by a car? Or what if he got hit by a passing airplane? Or, worst of all, what if the wind blew him so hard that he never landed at all?

  “Keep calm!” he hissed to himself. “What’d I do last night?” After dinner, he’d practiced increasing his weight gradually so he could sink gently to the ground. This would work now, too. But he had to be careful. Too much gravity would send him crashing down to the ground in a messy, painful way.

  Simon worked cautiously, using the formula words like a gravity-controlling dimmer switch. He was able to add ounces instead of pounds, and soon the wind wasn’t moving him anymore; he was making his way down.

  The damage had been done, though. He was no longer heading toward the dirt path. As he dropped lower and lower, he saw he was going to land on a thin branch near the top of one of the tallest trees in Dunkerhook Woods.

  Simon clutched the Book in one hand and wrapped his arms around the branch with the other. He felt the branch creak dangerously; he quickly adjusted his gravity formula, making him lighter again. Too much weight and he’d go crashing through all the branches, two hundred feet straight down. Ouch.

  What next? He couldn’t hop down from branch to branch—what if a branch broke? Or what if he hit his head and knocked himself out?

  Simon thought back to the night before. Direction hadn’t mattered when he was bouncing around his room, so it shouldn’t matter here either. The path and the forest floor didn’t have to be down; for him, down was wherever he commanded it to be. He changed the words of his formula and watched gravity around him twist in response. For everything else in the forest, all was normal, but for Simon, gravity now pulled him toward the tree trunk instead of the ground. Now the tree trunk was his ground!

  Simon stood up straight and started walking down the tree, as if it were a narrow walkway. He steadied himself with the branches as he went, using them to cut down on how much he bounced; just like the astronauts on the moon, his reduced gravity could have sent him flying off with a misstep. He increased his weight little by little as the trunk got thicker and sturdier.

  At last, Simon got close to the bottom of the tree; the forest floor was a huge dirt wall to him. Now he had to find a way to switch gravity back without smacking face-first into the dirt.

  As he stood there, Simon heard Owen calling for him. Simon yelled back, and after some back and forth, Owen came panting over to him.

  “You’re-alive-I-can’t-believe-it-you-just-disappearedyou-went-so-high-I-thought-you-went-up-into-space!” Owen craned his head back to look Simon in the face. “Why are you standing like that on the tree trunk?”

  Simon took a deep breath to stay calm. This was just like his Relativity poster, with him at a right angle to Owen. It was a lot scarier than he’d guessed.

  Finally, Simon gulped and jumped off the tree trunk, simultaneously changing his personal gravity to match Owen’s. He twisted in midair, landing on his feet, but then he stumbled to the forest floor.

  Simon lay flat for a few minutes, hugging the dirt. It was good to be on the ground again. “Maybe,” he said haltingly, “maybe we should stop. For today.” By the time he got to his knees and looked up, he saw Owen was already ten feet down the path, heading toward Van Silas Way.

  Simon hurried to catch up. “Guess you’re not going to argue over that.”

  THIS KEEPER IS A KEEPER

  I was impressed by what Simon had accomplished. First, he was somehow chosen to receive one of the greatest honors in the known galaxy, becoming a Keeper, while skipping the hurdles that others had to endure (such as rigorous testing, special training, and various eating contests). Second, he was the youngest Keeper ever (and the shortest, though Gilio Skidowsa of Biology ran a close second). Third, he was coming up with remarkably innovative ways of using his power.

  From the time Simon got home that Tuesday to the time he left for school the next day, almost all he did was eat and sleep to counter the tiredness from his gravity use. He was scared to go back to jumping with gravity right away, but he still dragged Owen back to the woods and insisted on practicing other uses of the power. By the end of their session in the woods on Wednesday, he had regained much of his confidence with that law of physics. That’s probably what led to his next mistake.

  CHAPTER 11

  FOLLOWING THE TRAIL

  It was lunchtime on Thursday afternoon, and Alysha Davis was headed to her locker, where she’d forgotten the sandwich her father had packed that morning. As she walked down the empty halls, she sighed. “Guess I spaced out,” she said to herself. “I’m turning into Simon Bloom.” She chuckled.

  As she turned the corner, Alysha froze. There, at the far end of the hall, was Simon himself. She watched in awe as Simon balanced a huge stack of books on the tip of one finger!

  Alysha squinted to be sure she was seeing right. Sure enough, they were all on one finger, yet he was holding them as easily as a stack of crackers! Then Alysha’s jaw dropped as Simon tossed the books in the air and caught them on the tip of his other finger, as if they weighed almost nothing. The top book wobbled and dropped, but before it hit the ground, Simon kicked it back up with his foot like a Hacky Sack.

  Alysha couldn’t keep from gasping loudly.

  Simon whipped his head around, and they locked eyes. He quickly put both hands under the stack, whispered something, and dropped the books all around him. He made a show of looking embarrassed. “Whoops. Those were heavy!”

  Alysha stood and gaped; she was unable to move or say anything more as Simon tossed his books back into his locker and dashed out the far exit to the playground. By the time she went after him, he was out of sight.

  Alysha couldn’t get that image out of her mind for the rest of the day, but every time she tried to talk to Simon, he hurried off. Finally, after their last class—gym—she cornered him at their lockers. Coming up behind him as he stuffed books into his bag, she cleared her throat.

  “Okay, what’s going on with you?” Alysha demanded.

  “What do you mean?”

  She folded her arms and tapped one foot. “Back when we used to hang out, you always came up with those goofy ideas and funny stories. That was great. Then you started daydreaming all the time; fine, that’s your deal. You zone out through classes and lunch; whatever, it’s your life. But this week…something’s different. You’ve been getting this weird smile at the end of the day, just before you meet up with that short kid. What’s his name…”

  “Owen?”

  “Right.” She leaned in. “Then you balance all those books on one finger?”

  “W-what are you talki
ng about?” Simon stammered.

  Alysha rolled her eyes. “Please. Do not play dumb with me, Simon Bloom. I’ve known you for too long. I saw it all. First the balancing, then the kick. How did you do that?”

  “You mean when you were standing all the way over there at the end of the hall?” Simon asked. “In this dim hallway light? Maybe it’s time for glasses, huh?”

  “That’s your answer?” Alysha demanded. “Get glasses?”

  “There’s always contact lenses. But you made a mistake, and I have to run!” Simon closed his backpack and ran off.

  Alysha stared after him and frowned. She had to know what he was up to!

  On Friday morning, Alysha’s mind was a jumble as her father drove her to school. When they arrived, she gave him a kiss and paused as she opened the door. She’d made a decision. “Dad, I’m going to be home late today.”

  “Sure, honey, just be back by dinnertime,” her father replied before driving off.

  Alysha smiled as she walked across the front lawn of the school; kids were everywhere, playing Hacky Sack or Frisbee, rushing to finish homework, or just standing around and chatting. Her mind was still elsewhere as she headed toward her friends, gathered around the concrete steps at the school’s front entrance.

  Tall, blond Rachelle James came over to her, stepping away from the group. “Allie, what’s with the outfit?”

  Alysha looked down and saw she was wearing jeans, a sleeveless sweater, and a comfy pair of sneakers. It was fine for most kids at school, but Alysha’s crowd, especially Rachelle, always dressed to impress. Alysha, feeling distracted, had thrown on lazy Sunday afternoon clothes.

  Alysha faked a frown. “Bad laundry day.”

  Rachelle swept back her hair and groaned theatrically. “Ugh! You must be ready to kill your parents.”

  “Yeah,” Alysha said. Actually, she liked not worrying about her clothes for once.

  She looked past Rachelle and saw Marcus gazing at her. Rachelle followed her eyes. “Doesn’t he look cute today? He’ll be at Nezzo’s after school.”

  Nezzo’s, the best pizzeria in Lawnville, was a short walk from Martin Van Buren Elementary. Rachelle and her pack of girls always went there after school when Marcus and the boys went, and as the cool kids of the sixth grade, they always took the two big tables in the front of the restaurant. Since older kids usually went to places closer to the junior high and high schools, Marcus and the others had their run of the place. Marcus called their territory the Turf Tables, and he was ruthless to anyone not in their group who tried to sit there.

  Alysha used to think sitting with Rachelle and the others at the Turf Tables was such a big deal, but today she had other things on her mind.

  “Allie? Did you hear me?”

  Alysha blinked. “Huh? Sorry, zoned out there.”

  “I was making sure you were coming with us to Nezzo’s after school.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I can,” Alysha said. She faked a sad face. “My parents want me home right after school today.”

  Rachelle gave her a sympathetic look. “First they mess up your outfits, and then they sabotage your social life.”

  “Yeah, too bad,” Alysha replied. “Hey, I’ve got to get inside. See you later.” Alysha waved to the group, trying to ignore Marcus’s wide smile; he looked like a hungry shark.

  She strode down the hall thinking about why she’d lied to Rachelle about Nezzo’s: the same reason she’d told her dad she’d be home late. Simon Bloom.

  It wasn’t just what he’d done with the books, although she was burning to know more about that. She liked that he didn’t care about fashion or popularity. She liked that he had all those wacky ideas. And maybe she missed being his friend.

  As Alysha watched Simon come into class in his usual distracted way, a dry, English-accented voice rang out from the hall. “A word with you, Mr. Bloom?”

  Simon stepped outside the classroom door, and Alysha couldn’t resist the chance to eavesdrop. She snapped the point off her pencil and went to the pencil sharpener near the door. She leaned as close to the doorway as she could and strained to hear Miss Fanstrom’s voice.

  “Mr. Bloom, I’ve become curious about you once again. I hope you don’t mind my scrutiny; that means attention, by the way. No? Good. I see that the bump on your head is healing nicely. Oh, don’t look so shocked, Mr. Bloom. Just because your parents are lost in their worlds doesn’t mean every adult is. An important lesson, that. Your actions, no matter how well hidden, might not go unnoticed by others. Some of this scrutiny may be welcome but some is most unwelcome. Do you follow me?”

  Alysha leaned closer to the doorway as Simon said, “No, Miss Fanstrom.”

  “Be aware that others might take notice as you go about your business. Be careful. And be ready for trouble if you should find it. Or if it should find you.”

  Alysha risked looking around the door frame. Miss Fanstrom was standing straight, briefcase in hand, facing Simon. Then Alysha stifled a gasp. The top of Miss Fanstrom’s bizarre hair was bent over, and it looked like it was pointing right at her.

  Alysha jumped back out of the doorway and quickly sharpened her pencil. She turned back to the classroom and saw Marcus Van Ny staring right at her. Had he seen her spying on Simon?

  At lunchtime, Alysha looked out at the playground and saw Simon and Owen sitting atop a concrete tube, ignoring the younger kids running and screaming around them. Simon was pointing at something in a tree just outside the playground. Squinting, Alysha thought she saw a small bird fly away.

  What was Miss Fanstrom talking about? Alysha wondered. Where did Simon and Owen go after school every day? Was Owen a part of Simon’s secret?

  Later in class, Alysha was startled as a neatly folded note landed on her desk. She saw Rachelle smiling at her. Alysha opened it and read: Marcus wants you to sit next to him at TT! You’ve got to come to Nezzo’s!

  Alysha fought back a shudder at the thought of Marcus sitting shoulder to shoulder with her at those obnoxious Turf Tables. She faked a frown as she met Rachelle’s eyes. She wrote, Want to but can’t. Sorry., folded the note back up, and tossed it to Rachelle.

  When class let out, she rushed to her locker to get her books. She had to hurry if her plan was going to work.

  She hid in the playground and watched Simon and Owen walk out of the school. When they were far enough ahead, she followed.

  Alysha couldn’t hear them, but she could tell Owen was rattling on about something. She didn’t know him well, but she knew how twitchy he was. Simon was nodding as he walked, occasionally glancing at the trees along the street.

  Alysha watched the two boys walk toward the dead end on Van Silas Way. And then they disappeared.

  Alysha blinked in confusion. Something in her brain told her there was nothing to worry about, nothing to think about on Van Silas Way; she must have been mistaken about where Simon and Owen were headed.

  She was about to turn and leave when she felt the tiniest hint of the Breeze. Not even a touch or caress—more of a tickle. It was just enough to make her continue down the street, heading for the dead end. She saw nothing unusual, but she kept on walking to feel more of that amazing Breeze…and then she tripped over something and fell forward onto her hands and knees.

  Alysha looked up from the ground and gasped. Instead of being on the asphalt street, she was on a dirt path in the midst of a forest she’d never noticed before. It had monstrous trees that stretched high into the sky, dwarfing the houses on either side. And ahead of her, farther down the trail, were Simon and Owen.

  Alysha hurried after them, moving quietly along the path in these mysterious woods.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE DIRT CAPADES

  Simon and Owen headed toward the clearing. “C’mon, you’ve got to try this,” Simon said.

  Owen shook his head.

  “I swear I’ll be careful! I’ve really got the hang of gravity now; I can do something simple but fun.”

  Owen just shoo
k his head again.

  Simon picked up three fist-size rocks from the forest floor and started to juggle them. Then he spoke his formula, reducing their gravity so they fell more slowly. He quickly grabbed more rocks and used his gravity control on them, too; within seconds, he was juggling ten rocks at once.

  Owen stared. “Cool! I didn’t know you could juggle!”

  “There are lots of things you don’t know I can do,” Simon said. “But if you think this is something, wait’ll you let me try a formula on you.”

  “I knew it!” a girl’s voice interrupted. “You are up to something!”

  Simon and Owen turned pale as Alysha Davis stomped down the path toward them. Simon forgot to catch the rocks, and all ten drifted down to the dirt.

  Alysha stared openmouthed. Before Simon or Owen could react, she dove forward and picked up one rock. She hefted it in her hand, confirming what her eyes had told her. Then she looked up at Simon. “How?” she asked.

  Owen’s mouth moved up and down, but no words came out.

  “What are you doing here?” Simon recovered enough to ask.

  Alysha crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to know how you did this. And that thing with your books yesterday.”

  Owen took a step back from her, his mouth still flapping uselessly.

  Simon frowned. “You shouldn’t be here. How did you get into the woods?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You didn’t answer mine.”

  Alysha rolled her eyes. “I asked you first. But if you want to be a baby, fine. It’s a free country. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is…” Simon paused; he didn’t know what to say.

  To his amazement, Owen did. “The-big-deal-is-that-this-is-our-place-not-yours. Why-can’t-you-let-us-have-one-place-where-we-don’t-have-to-get-picked-on?”

  Alysha held up her hands. “Whoa, boy, relax. Breathe. You’re like that cartoon mouse.”