Arcade and the Golden Travel Guide

by Rashad Jennings

  Adventures, for sure. But how much should I share?

  CHAPTER 10

  Bridge View

  Derek, Zoe, and I ran into Bridgeview Bakery to pick up the food. Doug stayed with Celeste and Aunt Weeda. He had no choice, really. He was stuck in the back of the minivan. Celeste was talking his ear off, and he was repeating everything she said back to her.

  “I love this place!” I stopped in the bakery parking lot to take a whiff. “We gotta get some of that cinnamon swirl bread too.’

  “You got it, my man!” Derek held up Aunt Weeda’s credit card. “I got the power right here.”

  Zoe opened the door. “I like the food, but I have a problem with the name.”

  “What’s wrong with the name?” I stood there, filling my nostrils with cinnamon aroma.

  “Bridgeview?” She put one hand on her hip. “You don’t know?”

  “Of course not.”

  Zoe pushed us back outside. “Take a look around. Do you see a bridge anywhere?”

  We scanned the horizon.

  Nuthin’.

  “Now do you get what I’m saying? No bridge. No view. And yet it’s the Bridgeview Bakery. C’est ridicule!”

  When Zoe breaks out her French, it’s game on. “Oh, wait!” I stepped up to within inches of her face. “I do see a bridge. It’s the bridge of your nose. And I think there might be a zit brewing there.”

  Zoe pushed me back. “Haha. You know I have a point.”

  “You do. Again, I’m looking at it. Right at the end of your no—”

  “DEREK!” A girl who looked about our age came out the door. “I saw the order for Weeda Clark. I hoped you would be coming for it.”

  The cute girl with the wide eyes and flowy black hair gestured toward the door. “Aren’t you going to come in? Your order is ready.”

  We followed her in, and she bounced behind the counter and picked up a huge brown-handled grocery bag that had a picture of a bridge on it with the name of the bakery.

  “Can we add some cinnamon bread to our order?” I asked, and I saw Zoe roll her eyes.

  The girl’s smile lit up her entire face. “Of course!” Then she bounded over to the bread shelves and pulled out a package of that sweet cinnamon stuff I’d been waiting for.

  “How have you been, Arcade? I haven’t seen you around lately.”

  What? Who are you?

  The badge she was wearing said her name was Jacey. Hmmm. “I’ve been good. I moved to New York City a couple of months ago.”

  Jacey put her elbows up on the bakery display case and rested her chin in her hands. “Wow, New York City. Is it as amazing as it looks in the movies?”

  “What movies?”

  “Practically every movie ever made,” Zoe turned to Jacey. “We haven’t had a chance to visit many places yet.”

  Jacey sighed. “I’d love to go to New York.”

  Derek and I stood there like dorks, saying nothing. What was I supposed to say? I didn’t remember seeing her. Ever.

  Derek waved Aunt Weeda’s credit card. “So, my mom gave me this. Can I use it, or does she have to come in?”

  Jacey shrugged. “It’s fine. I know your family, so you’re good.”

  Something suddenly hit me. “Are you running this place?”

  She giggled. “No, my mom’s in the back, making more pot pies. I like to help her in the summer.” Then her left eye closed and opened a couple of times. “Here you go.” She raised the food bag over the counter and handed it to me. “Hope you enjoy the food.”

  “Oh, I will.” I could practically taste the cinnamon bread already.

  I turned, and my token sent a jolt of heat through my body. I stared at the large mural of a bridge painted on the wall opposite the bakery counter. It looked a little glittery around the edges. I wondered if anyone else noticed that.

  “Jacey, what bridge is that?” I pointed to the mural.

  Jacey smiled. “Mom says it’s whatever bridge you need to cross.”

  “Oh. So everyone’s bridge view might be different?” I glanced over at Zoe and smirked.

  “Or the same. I know, I don’t get it either. But I really like the mural.” Her eye blinked again. “Arcade, if you need anything while you’re here in Virginia, just call me here at the Bridgeview Bakery.”

  Now my cheeks heated up. “Gotcha.”

  And then I escaped out the door.

  “She was friendly.” Zoe elbowed me in the ribs. “What was her name again?”

  “Jacey. Derek, do you remember a Jacey from anywhere?”

  “Nope. What was wrong with her eye?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she got cinnamon or sugar in it.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably it. She was nice, though.”

  “Oh, she was super nice.” Zoe grabbed the bag from me and headed for the van.

  “Maybe we should put the Bridgeview Bakery number in our contacts.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “Yeah,” Derek laughed. “You never know when we’re gonna need some more cinnamon bread.” We all took a minute and copied the number listed on the bag into our phones.

  As we neared Aunt Weeda’s gold minivan, Derek ducked down. He tipped his chin toward the street and whispered to me, “There it is, Arcade. That’s the truck that’s been following me.”

  I peered over at the silver truck with the tinted windows. It was parked in the road on the bakery side, but I couldn’t see the driver. “Get in.” I pushed Derek into the van and scooted in next to him in the second row.

  Celeste and Doug were in a talk-fest in the back, and Zoe sat in front with Aunt Weeda.

  Derek leaned over to me and talked real quiet. “It’s been weird around here, Arcade. Ever since I helped that guy move, and I saw the post-it with your name on it in one of the boxes.”

  “You saw my name? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. How many Arcade Livingstons do you know?” Derek fished a green post-it note out of his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around since the move. I feel like a thief since I took it out of his house.”

  I examined the post-it. It definitely said my name in bold printed letters. And right underneath it was a drawing of three Ts connected together.

  “Who is this guy, Derek? Why did you help him move?”

  Derek shrugged. “He’s the guy who owns Forest Games and Golf. Remember him? Grouchy guy? We used to see him sometimes when we went to hang out there. I’ve been bored, so I went to play a game of mini-golf all by myself one day. He asked me if I wanted to make some money helping him move.”

  “Yeah, I know exactly who you’re talking about. What’s his name again??”

  “He just told me to call him Mr. B.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Pot Pies and Pyramids

  Aunt Weeda’s living room is on the second floor overlooking the green front yard of 2300 Cimarron Road. It’s filled up with one oversized couch. It’s like twelve feet by twelve feet when you push all the ottomans together. There’s no room for other furniture, but there’s no need for it, because everyone fits on the couch together.

  Zoe launched herself on it as soon as we walked in the door.

  “Now this feels like home!” I let Loopy out of his crate and he jumped up on the couch too. Aunt Weeda doesn’t care who’s up there. Animals, kids, it’s just one big happy couch family.

  Aunt Weeda hurried into the kitchen and packed herself a lunch to take to work. She cut a sloppy slice out of the pot pie and took a bite. “Mmmm! Bridgeview makes the best pies. Next to mine, of course.” She set both pies out on the table. “Don’t let this food get cold. Start eatin’! If you eat out on the couch, make sure you put it in my deep bowls so you don’t slop it all over the place.” Then she turned to Loopy. “I suppose you want somethin’ too, right, Loop?” She pulled some dog treats out of the pantry and fed him one. “Boy, do I miss your family.” She roughed up his neck. “But at least I have you all back for a month.”

  Aunt Weeda went to her room to
get ready for work, and all us kids got out the deep bowls and spooned ourselves some chicken pot pie.

  “This is crazy good,” Doug said as he took a big bite and closed his eyes, chewing and swallowing in delight. “Did you all know that I’m going to be a food entrepreneur when I grow up? I’m going to have to check into the chicken pie business.”

  “Chicken pies are good.” Zoe took a big bite and swallowed. “But I prefer sweet pies. Meat in pies just seems wrong. Plus, I like single crust pies, so I can see what’s in them.”

  “Yeah, that figures,” I said.

  Celeste took a bite of her pie. “This cannot be wrong.” Then she took her bowl out to the living room and sat in the middle of the couch. “Come tell us all about New York. How’s city life? Whatcha got goin’ over there besides cute guys?”

  “Food! That’s what’s goin on. The food trucks are spectacular!” Doug plopped down next to Celeste.

  The biggest thing Zoe and I had goin’ on was the Triple T Token. But how were we supposed to tell our cousins about that? And now that I’d seen my mom and dad win the token at Arcade Adventures, there was so much more to tell them.

  But I couldn’t. Could I?

  “School’s okay.” I grabbed a throw pillow and propped it behind my back on the couch. “But I was only at PS 23 for a few weeks. Now I have to go to junior high somewhere. We’ve got twin bullies, Casey and Kevin Tolley, who live across the street. I think they like me, but they’ll never tell me that. Zoe goes to school with their older brother, Michael, at the high school for super-smart people. My favorite person in town is Ms. Weckles, the librarian at the public library.”

  “Sounds about right . . . for a book nerd.” Celeste has been teasing me about how much I like reading for as long as I can remember.

  “Call him a nerd if you want,” Zoe said, “but readers are leaders. It’s a fact.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Celeste stared down into her bowl.

  I tried to encourage her. “I didn’t realize how many books there were about careers until we had to do that career expo project. What do you want to be when you grow up, Celeste?”

  “That’s easy. President. Or a drill sergeant. Some job where I can boss people around.”

  “She’s been practicing on me my whole life.” Derek had put his visor back on his head and was looking much more relaxed since we drove away from the silver truck at the bakery. “I’ve been thinking about jobs lately. What if NBA point guard doesn’t work out for me? I’ve been thinking about space a little. How did people figure out how to get up there? It’s mind-blowing.”

  “Yeah, what do they eat in space? That freeze-dried ice-cream?” Doug scraped the last bit of pot pie from his bowl. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

  “Me!” I hopped off the couch to take my bowl to the sink, and I planned to grab a few slices of cinnamon bread.

  The Triple T Token had a different plan.

  “Arcade, what’s wrong?” Zoe rushed over to me the moment she saw me fall on the floor.

  I grabbed my chest. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I’m just not ready. I haven’t told anyon—” Sweat ran from my forehead into my eyes. “I hope Aunt Weeda won’t mind a little glitter in the house.”

  Zoe reached out a hand to lift me to my feet. Doug, the only other one in the room who knew what the token could do, dropped his spoon and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, boy . . . where we goin’ this time, man?”

  “What are you talking about?” Celeste collected all our bowls and stacked them in the sink.

  “Where’s Loopy?” I pulled the token out from under my shirt. “We can’t leave him here by himself.”

  “What’s goin’ on, Arcade? Why is your chest flashing?” The light from the token was shining on Derek’s bright yellow visor.

  Glitter began to fall from the ceiling.

  “I guess we’re doin’ this!”

  Elevator doors appeared, and so did the golden coin slot, pulsing light toward the token. All right there on top of Aunt Weeda’s couch.

  Celeste gasped.

  “Duuuuuuuuude,” was all Derek could say as he stood there in shock.

  “Um, there’s been some other things going on in New York that I probably should tell you about . . .” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, pulled the token off the chain, and placed it in the slot. “. . . but I don’t have time to tell you about it right now.”

  Really? My mind raced. Now? With all these people?

  Loopy must have heard the commotion because he ran in from the hallway. Woof! Woof! He jumped into my arms, panting, with his tail wagging.

  “You like to travel, Loop?”

  Woof!

  “Okay then.” I made an open-door motion with my hands, and the elevator doors parted. The room sparkled with gold glitter, and a sign displayed over the doors:

  ALL ABOARD.

  “Y’all comin’?” Sweat dripped down my back, and my whole body shivered with excitement. Or was it fear? The old lady at the library had wished me “happy travels” when she put the chain around my neck, so I was holding on to that hope every time I walked through the doors.

  Celeste was the first to run in. “I don’t know what this is, but I know I want to get out of Forest, Virginia!”

  Doug was next. “Then get ready, ’cause you might even get out of this century!”

  Zoe crossed her arms and walked in, shaking her head. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about! I just hope the ride is a little smoother this time.”

  That left Derek. His body faced the elevator, but his eyes were looking out the living room window toward the front yard curb. “Hey, Arcade! There’s the silver truck! He’s watchin’ us again!”

  “Then get in!” Celeste ran out and pulled Derek by the ear. “We’ll deal with it later.”

  With all of us covered in glitter and inside the elevator, the doors closed. My own voice blared over the loudspeaker:

  “UP or DOWN?”

  I hit my forehead with my palm. “Not again!”

  “Not again!” Doug put his hand on my shoulder. “Not again, what?”

  I stared at the unmarked red button. The only one. Again.

  “I have to make a choice.”

  Celeste sighed. “It’s not rocket science, Arcade. It’s one or the other.”

  Zoe laughed. “You wish.”

  “How about we vote?” Derek said in a shaky voice.

  “Nah, I gotta choose.” I brushed glitter from my arms and closed my eyes. I wanted to know more about my parents, and what happened after they won the token from the claw machine. Maybe we could go back there. If I just picked . . .

  “BACK!” I yelled, as I pushed the button.

  “HOLD ON!” Zoe screamed, and she squatted down on the floor in a ball.

  The doors closed, and we shot . . . backward!

  “AHHHHHHH!” Derek’s visor flew off his head and tumbled around the elevator like it was in a clothes dryer. We all kinda did the same thing—first being thrown to the front and then rolling to the back when the elevator came to a halt.

  “Get me out of here!” Celeste brushed herself off and moved to the front of the elevator. She touched the doors and pulled her hands back. “Whoa, they’re hot.”

  Next thing I know, I’m sitting real high in the air, and a rock is sticking me in the behind.

  “OUCH!” What in the worl—”

  I’m sitting on top of a PYRAMID. I know, because I see other pyramids in the distance. Maybe I should have asked where in the world instead.

  Egypt?

  I’m by myself, and I’m scared. I expected to arrive with an elevator full of friends and my dog.

  “Arcade?”

  I turn in the direction of the voice, but instead of seeing my friends, I come face-to-face with the old lady from the library!

  “Oh, hey.” I haven’t a clue what to say next.

  Nice seeing you here . . . on top of a PYRAMID?

  I don’t
have to say anything, because she speaks first.

  “Are you enjoying your travels?”

  “I would enjoy them more if I knew where I was going and why.”

  The gold T on the ball cap she’s wearing flashes light in my eyes. “That would take all the adventure out of it.”

  “You mean it would take all the fear out of it.”

  “Fear? There’s no need to fear. Your travel guide knows where you’re going.”

  “Travel guide?”

  She points to my chain, which is missing the token on the end of it.

  “You find out the why after you go. Traveling always teaches us something about ourselves. The people you meet. The adventures you experience.”

  “Who are you?” I scratch my head. “And why doesn’t this pyramid have a pointy top?”

  “Maybe you should ask the people who are building it.”

  She points toward the bottom of the pyramid. A crowd of people wearing flowing clothing and cloth draped over their heads are moving blocks of stone.

  “Those are the builders? What year is this?”

  “You chose back. You went back a little.”

  I stand and survey each side of the pyramid. “Whoa! How did they build this? It’s a perfect triangle!”

  “And if you look at it from above, it’s made up of squares. Perspective is everything.”

  A jolt of excitement shoots through me. I love this kind of stuff! Wait till I tell Zo-

  “ARCADE!” My sister’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts. Her head pops up over the top of the pyramid—her hair dusty and matted from sweat. “Are you going to give me a hand?” She stretches her hand out, and I run over to grab it.

  “Ugh.” Her foot reaches the top of the pyramid and she pulls herself up. She brushes red dust off her knees and shades her eyes as she looks out at the horizon. “Are we seriously in Egypt?”

  I nod. “Around 2500 BC. That’s what my library books say, anyway. We’re witnessing the building of the great pyramids! And did you know that a pyramid is made of squares?”