The Last Last-Day-of-Summer Page 10

  Staying low, Otto snuck to Sheed’s hiding spot, linked elbows, and led him through the collapsed section of fence. They retrieved the bike and slinked away from O’Doyle and his ghastly, villainous look-alike. They ran a full hundred yards and ducked into a neighbor’s backyard, where a frozen dog barked at them. That noise wouldn’t do, so they kept moving through other yards, around playhouses, and past trampolines until they were back to a road far away from Flux.

  Sheed walked the bike. Otto flipped through the yearbook, playing out a hunch.

  “What was that back there?” Sheed said.

  “A big clue,” Otto said. “Did you hear Mr. Flux say O’Doyle was almost like his dad?”

  “Almost.” Sheed nodded. “So, Mr. O’Doyle isn’t who created Flux, but he had something to do with it. Maybe that’s why they look so much alike?”

  “That’s what I deduce. Mr. Flux kept going on about O’Doyle’s mean nicknames. Peter this, and Peter that. We know a Peter. Or, rather, a Petey.”

  Otto showed Sheed the yearbook pages he’d dog-eared. A school photo of a scrawny, pimply-faced kid in the freshman section. Other photos, too. Science Club. Math Club. Drama Club. Peter Thunkle, the butt of O’Doyle’s mean names was none other than Petey, their dour clerk friend from Archie’s Hardware Store.

  “Get out!” Sheed dropped his bike and snatched the book.

  Otto asked, “Do you notice anything in that Drama Club photo?”

  Sheed scrutinized it. A cast photo, with the players dressed in their costumes from their production of Abraham Lincoln.

  Abe Lincoln was played by none other than Donald O’Doyle. In his black suit and stovepipe hat, he didn’t just resemble Mr. Flux in this photo; he was Mr. Flux.

  At least to a tormented Petey, in overalls with a bulky tool belt on his waist, whom Donny Boy held in a headlock at the moment the picture was snapped.

  Sheed closed the yearbook. “So, if Mr. O’Doyle didn’t create Mr. Flux, does that mean it was . . . Petey?”

  “I think so. This picture is probably close to, if not the exact moment, it happened. That’s why Mr. Flux didn’t want the Clock Watchers near these books.”

  “We need Petey, don’t we?”

  “Fast.”

  “Can you pedal this time?” Sheed asked, righting the bike. He coughed into his fist. “All that dust got me feeling funny.”

  Sheed looked funny somehow. Like the time they’d played basketball all day and didn’t drink any water, then had to lie in their beds the whole next day with Grandma placing ice packs on their foreheads and making them drink too much water. “Y’all mess around and give yourselves heat stroke,” she’d said.

  Today, as long as it had been, wasn’t that hot, though.

  Otto’s throat was dry, so maybe some water would help. They’d get some at the hardware store, then they’d get Petey so they could fix this mess.

  Otto allowed Sheed to hop on the handlebars, and he got them going.

  Sheed was grateful. He’d need his energy for whatever came next.

  22

  The Disappearing Downer

  Completely gassed from the fast ride to Archie’s, Otto immediately went to the cooler near the door, unfroze two bottles of water, and handed one to Sheed. They were happy to discover their unfreezing ability worked perfectly on the liquid and gulped greedily until the bottles were empty.

  “Mr. Archie”—​Otto went for another couple of bottles—​“could you add four waters to our tab?”

  “Sure thing, fellas. Any luck on unsticking everything?”

  “Actually, we think we found a big clue to solving the problem. It’s why we’re back. We need Petey.”

  Anna Archie said, “Oh, really? Petey can help save the day! See, Petey? It’s like I always tell you—​you’re destined for big things.”

  Everyone waited for the inevitable and predictable response. Something sad, a downer. Petey having absolutely no confidence in himself or what he could do.

  They waited. And waited.

  Sheed said, “Hey, Petey? Did you hear Anna say something nice you can contradict?”

  Still, Petey didn’t answer.

  The boys rushed to the back of the store, where Petey had been during their earlier shopping spree. Only his broom and apron remained. The dour clerk was gone.

  “Mr. Archie,” Otto said, “Anna, do you have any idea what happened to Petey?”

  “No,” they answered.

  Mr. Archie said, “I thought he’d gone mighty quiet, but figured maybe he’d dozed off.”

  “Dad, that’s because you dozed off. I heard you snoring.”

  Mr. Archie laughed a laugh that might have been accompanied by a thigh slap had he been mobile. “You got me there, honey.”

  Anna said, “I don’t know where he could’ve gotten off to.”

  Sheed searched the aisles, on guard, knowing today of all days, anything could happen. “Anna, no one came in here? No stranger in a black suit and a tall hat?”

  “Nope. No suit and hat.”

  Otto said, “Anybody with dreadlocks and weird not-from-here clothes?”

  “Uh-unh. I like weird clothes, so I would’ve noticed that.”

  No sign of Mr. Flux or TimeStar. The boys didn’t ask about the Clock Watchers. If the Archies knew anything, they would’ve told. Given how fast A.M. and P.M. moved, it was possible they, or someone like them, might’ve discovered the same yearbook photos they had and zipped Petey out of there faster than Mr. Archie or Anna would’ve noticed. That had to be it, since Petey was stuck in time like everyone else. There was no way of knowing where they might’ve taken him, so add Disappearing Petey to the list of mysteries needing solving.

  “Can you give us Petey’s address?” Otto asked. If they couldn’t find him, maybe there’d be better clues where he lived.

  Mr. Archie said, “He stays with his mama at 2814 Thompson Street.”

  “Thank you!” said Sheed. “We’ll get this all sorted as soon as we can.”

  Another bike ride took them over to Thompson Street, where all the houses were nearly identical. They were shaped the same—​cottages with small square lawns. All painted pastel, alternating between blue, pink, green, and yellow. All the grass was the same length. No one had fences. There were no sidewalks, only wide, flat shale steppingstones arranged in the same curving path from the pale concrete driveways to the whitewashed porch steps. Otto had the creepy sensation that, on a normal day, they could’ve knocked on any door and met a version of Petey and Petey’s mom.

  Sheed had a similar creepy thought: that all of the doors would open at once and multiple Peteys would step onto multiple porches, waving at them in unison.

  They shuddered, pushed such visions from their minds. Starting down the hill to search for the one true Petey, Sheed grabbed Otto’s shirttail, whispered, “TimeStar.”

  The man who claimed to be a superhero time traveler emerged from between two houses, across the street from Petey’s place. There was no gyrating sack on his shoulder, so he hadn’t recaptured Witching Hour like he’d said he would. Nor did he seem very concerned with that particular mission. He strolled right up to 2814, Petey’s house, and let himself in.

  Only then did the boys notice the basement windows of that house glowing with electric blue light.

  “What do you think is going on there?” Sheed asked.

  “I know how we can find out. Maneuver #14?”

  Sheed grinned. “Sweet. I could use the practice.”

  Leaving the bike at the corner, they moved stealthily down to 2814 Thompson and crept to a side door. Fishing in a pocket on Otto’s backpack, Sheed pulled free a small plastic case, took a minute to poof his ’fro as he always did before delving into deep concentration, then revealed his trusty lock picks.

  With his tongue poked between his teeth and one eyebrow cocked, he flexed his fingers like an artist set to paint a masterpiece, then went to work on the lock, sliding the slim tools in and out of the keyhole. He
turned, and twisted, and jiggled. Otto watched the yard—​for what, he wasn’t sure—​but the maneuver called for a lookout, so he looked out.

  Another twist, another turn, then a click. “Got it.”

  Sheed nudged the back door open. They snuck inside.

  The side entrance put them into a laundry room, which didn’t seem very different from Grandma’s laundry room except for a tiny detail. The washer and dryer looked homemade.

  There wasn’t the smooth exterior with a familiar appliance company name, no sir. These were made of welded and riveted metal. The control panels were pieced-together displays and switches that seemed to come from a dozen sources. Sheed glanced behind the machine, didn’t see any sort of pipes for water or power cords for electricity. “It looks like something Leen Ellison would build.”

  “Not unless this washer and dryer can come to life and try to step on us.”

  For several seconds they eyed the appliances warily.

  Otto nudged Sheed forward. They crept into the kitchen and found everything in there pieced together, too. The fridge seemed to be made out of car parts, while the oven seemed a mix of wrought-iron fencing and safety glass.

  Sheed eyed Otto; Otto shrugged. He didn’t know what to make of it either.

  He was more concerned about running into Petey’s mother, who might alert TimeStar to their presence with a yell. A quick search put that fear to rest. This level of the house was empty.

  The basement below them was not.

  The thudding and rustling were loud enough to be heard through the floor. The door leading down there was just off the kitchen. That incredible blue light leaked from beneath it.

  Out of options and patience, they nodded in silent agreement, then burst into the basement. They landed at the bottom of the stairs, fists clenched and in fighting stances. “What are you up to, TimeStar?”

  The time traveler, who’d been sitting on a workbench looking distraught, sprang to his feet and said, “Fellas, what are you doing here?”

  Otto said, “I should ask you the same—”

  He lost his words when he saw who stood next to TimeStar. Petey, somehow unstuck and frowny as usual, said, “Oh heck. More guests, and me with no snacks. Can this day get any worse?”

  23

  Not a Mannequin Challenge

  Sheed said, “We’re not worried about snacks, Petey.”

  “I’m a little hungry,” Otto said.

  Sheed ignored Otto and, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, threw himself at Petey, embracing him. “Good to see you moving.”

  Otto said, “How are you moving?”

  Not only that, why was he wearing a white lab coat, like scientists wore on TV?

  The answers Otto deduced from the strange cluttered basement. One wall was crowded with tacked-up plans and schematics; another was piled high with tinkerer junk; the bench TimeStar occupied was littered with snipped wires, and tools, and computer equipment. As Sheed mentioned upstairs, they’d seen sights like this before in Leen Ellison’s mad science workshop.

  “Petey.” Otto tried hard not to let his surprise and confusion come off as insulting. “You’re a genius?”

  Eyes low, no confidence, Petey shrugged. “Not really.”

  He tossed aside what looked like a power screwdriver only it didn’t hit the ground. It wasn’t time stuck like they’d grown accustomed to. No, this tool sprouted propellers the moment it left Petey’s hand and hovered to a designated spot on a nearby rack.

  Petey said, “Wire cutters, to me.”

  From that same tool rack, a pair of yellow-handled wire cutters hovered on their own propellers, floated just above Petey’s waiting palm, and dropped into his hand. He turned his attention back to some project the boys could not see.

  Sheed shouted, revving up a tantrum. “This is all so much weirder than our usual Logan messes. Somebody better explain stuff to us, or . . . OR . . .” He grabbed what looked like a fire extinguisher and aimed the nozzle at Petey. “I’m going to lose it and foam this whole place up.”

  TimeStar tilted his head, watching Sheed’s growing rage with . . . amusement?

  Petey only spared him the mildest of glances. “I don’t suggest you do that. That’s not a fire extinguisher. It’s a highly unstable explosive gel.”

  Sheed quickly, and gently, placed the canister on the ground. “You make explosives here?”

  “No,” said Petey, “it really was a fire extinguisher. I just wanted you to put it down.”

  TimeStar laughed. “Nice joke, Petey.”

  Petey said. “It could’ve been better.”

  All of this was overwhelming. And this was a couple of boys who’d faced laughing locust swarms, ghosts, and were-bears—​just in June! It took a lot to overwhelm them.

  Sheed pointed at TimeStar. “What are you doing here?” Then he pointed at Petey. “What are you doing here?”

  Petey, still fiddling, spoke with his back to them. “You should pick your questions more wisely. If you’re precise, then I can disappoint you precisely. I’m sure I won’t have answers you like.”

  Otto said, “Start with how you got unfrozen. If you did it, maybe we can help other people get unstuck.”

  “Negative,” said Petey.

  Was he speaking of his general disposition or dismissing Otto’s logic?

  Petey elaborated. “I can’t help other people get unstuck because I was never stuck.”

  Sheed said, “Sure you were. We saw you frozen at the hardware store like Mr. Archie and Anna.”

  “No. I was there, but only pretending to be frozen.”

  “Why?” Otto and Sheed said together.

  “Because when Mr. A and Anna did it, I thought it was a thing. Like a mannequin challenge. I didn’t want to mess it up.”

  That required a moment of reflection.

  “When you saw us,” Otto, wondering if Petey might be insane, said, “why didn’t you stop then?”

  “I didn’t want anyone to know I’d been pretending. I didn’t want anyone mad at me. That always sucks.”

  TimeStar spoke up. “Petey, it’s like I’ve been trying to tell you, you’re too hard on yourself. You worry too much about what other people think.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’ve traversed time and space. Where you come from, I bet everyone thinks good stuff about you.”

  TimeStar flicked his eyes at the boys, changed the subject. “Well, why don’t we help Otto and Sheed the best way we can so you and I can get back to our confidential business?”

  Petey slumped, looking more defeated than usual. “We don’t have any business, sir. I took a look at that device you brought me—”

  TimeStar leapt to Petey’s side, attempting to cut him off. “We don’t have to discuss the details.”

  “But I already told you there’s no way I can fix it. It’s too advanced. I don’t understand one thing about it.”

  TimeStar’s face flattened; his brow became shadowy and frustrated. “I thought we were clear on the ‘confidential’ part of that conversation.”

  Petey said, “Otto and Sheed won’t tell your secret. Will you, guys?”

  “We don’t know his secret,” Sheed said. “Dude, why are you really here? It seems mighty convenient that a vacationing, time-traveling superhero accidentally shows up in Logan the same day time freezes. Ain’t that right, Otto?”

  “My cousin makes a valid point, TimeStar. There’s a ton of weirdness in Logan County, but few coincidences.”

  “Fellas,” TimeStar began, then he juked left, grabbing his device from Petey and bolting for the door. Otto and Sheed were prepared for this.

  Otto threw himself in TimeStar’s path, curling up like a pillbug. When TimeStar skidded to a stop, Sheed shoved him so he tripped over Otto and sprawled on the basement floor. The boys scrambled, sat on him.

  He groaned beneath their weight, but didn’t struggle otherwise. “Maneuver #19? Really, guys?”

  Otto snatched the device from TimeStar’s han
d.

  “Be careful,” TimeStar warned.

  It was like metal, but not metal, not any kind Otto had ever seen. It was smooth, pentagonal, with three display windows that all blinked with numbers. Beneath the displays were embedded buttons. One side was a curved groove that Otto’s thumb slid into naturally for a better grip.

  “What is this, Petey?” Otto asked.

  “He says it’s what allows him to time travel. But it’s broken. He can’t go home.”

  Sheed bounced on TimeStar’s back, making him oof! “You weren’t planning to leave until after you helped us, right, hero?”

  “Get off me, Sheed!” TimeStar yelled. “You too, Otto. I’ll explain what I can.”

  The boys exchanged glances, came to a silent agreement, then let him up. Making sure to position themselves between him and the stairs. Otto kept a tight grip on his precious time travel device.

  TimeStar rose, wincing, rotating his right shoulder so it made cracking sounds. “You two are heavy.”

  “Explain,” Sheed said.

  “I messed up. I’m not supposed to be here. I may have made this day worse.” He flopped on Petey’s workbench. “I may have made it so it can’t be fixed.”

  It was not the explanation Otto and Sheed were hoping for.

  24

  The Big Key

  “As I told you,” TimeStar continued, “in the future we all know about your adventures. You inspire us.”

  “Us?” Sheed said. “Like, other heroes?”

  TimeStar’s gaze softened. “Yeah, Sheed. You especially.”

  Otto bristled. Why him especially? “Keep going.”

  “I maybe didn’t tell you the whole truth, okay. It’s not exactly legal for me to take this trip back to Logan. I shouldn’t be here. At all.”

  Otto snatched his pad from his pocket, scribbled furiously, underlining key points.

  Entry #72

  Not telling whole truth

  Illegal trip “back to Logan”