The Last Last-Day-of-Summer Page 14

  Flux scowled. “An apt analogy, Rasheed. Yes, I was a bird, trapped behind glass. Except humans can see birds, and help birds if they so choose. Humans couldn’t see me because I was in the Clock Watcher dimension. No matter how much I screamed and begged.”

  A chill raised goose bumps on Sheed’s arms, as the horror of what Mr. Flux described sank in. “You were alone like that for years. Like a ghost.”

  “Oh no.” Mr. Flux shook his head with such extreme force it twisted his neck like a wet dishrag. “I wasn’t totally alone. The Clock Watchers were there, also invisible to the human eye. Though most were too busy with their repetitive routines to concern themselves with me while I screamed myself mad. So many of them ignored me in my torment. Father Time. The Golden Hours. They had tasks way more important than a poor trapped soul like me. So, one day, I stopped screaming and started thinking. Observing. I began to understand that the Clock Watchers interacted with the human dimension all the time, but in slavish ways that reflected their unique natures. Maybe, just maybe, I could interact with the human world, too. And make everyone in this town pay for abandoning me. With the help of the right Clock Watcher. “

  “That’s when you found Witching Hour, and got her to build your camera and make it so we could see you,” Sheed said, knowing the rest. “You tricked us into doing your dirty work.”

  “Ah, yes. Frozen time changes the rules in both dimensions. It means the residents of Fry can never let another opportunity slip by, and I can now roam freely without Witching Hour’s aid.” Mr. Flux applauded lightly. “You Alston Boys are so helpful.”

  “Why yap all this to me?”

  Mr. Flux clasped his hands behind his back, pinched his lips together, took on a troubled posture. “It seems that I made a miscalculation. I did not think very far beyond my vengeance. With my goal achieved, what now? I have this camera, I could leave Logan County, but where would I go? What should I do?”

  Sheed hadn’t considered those questions. Now that they were in his head, the possible answers were quite frightening.

  “I could go to more towns. Take more pictures. Prevent more people from missing opportunities. But that is lonely work, and I’ve been alone for far too long. Certainly, my loyal Clock Watchers are a useful army. Not very intellectually stimulating, though. Isn’t that right, Quitting Time?”

  A stout, grouchy Clock Watcher in a hardhat and a sleeveless flannel shirt, who carried an aluminum lunch pail, said, “I’m knocking off for the day!” Then she left.

  Mr. Flux said, “She’ll be back in a moment, then she’ll do that again. Over and over. Do you see my problem?”

  Sheed’s lip curled, and an eyebrow arched. “You want me and Otto to work with you?”

  “For me!” Mr. Flux clarified, waving one finger. “For me. Also, not you and Octavius. You.”

  Sheed did not know how to respond to that.

  Mr. Flux said, “I told you I could see the people in this county when I was in my specter-like state. You were no exception. What I observed, well, it was downright criminal. Those adventures you two go on, you’re the heart of your team, Rasheed. He’s the brain—​no offense to your smarts—​I respect both. He does not. He’s often rude to you. Dismissive. Haughty, even.”

  Sheed mumbled, “I don’t know what haughty means.”

  “And I will never make you feel bad about that. Would Octavius?”

  Sheed had never been embarrassed about not knowing stuff. That’s what learning is for. Yet, he remembered times he’d made such a confession to Otto, and his cousin would sneer, and scoff, and say things like, “How do you not know that?” As if not having his brain was a crime.

  “I’ve seen you under pressure, Rasheed. You’re good in a clutch. Instinct is your friend. That sort of leadership would be valuable in my new adventures. I have won. Even if you don’t realize it yet, you will. This is your latest opportunity, Rasheed. Don’t let it be your last.” Mr. Flux crouched aimed the camera, and peered at Sheed through the viewfinder. “What do you think of my proposal?”

  Sheed did not say yes. He did not say no, either. He thought long and hard.

  What would it be like to not have Otto breathing down my neck from now on? Not have him acting like I don’t know what I’m talking about, or that I’m only good for stuff like lifting his two-ton backpack? What would it be like to be something more than a Legendary Alston Boy?

  That he couldn’t outright dismiss Mr. Flux’s “opportunity,” in spite of the consequences for Fry, Logan County, and beyond, said a lot.

  32

  A Condo?

  On Sheed’s bike, intent on getting back to Petey’s as fast as his legs could manage, Otto made it only a few yards before a shiny flicker caught his eye. Coasting closer, he recognized familiar glistening footprints. They weren’t fresh, and the nearest ones faded right before his eyes. Pumping the pedals, he pushed himself to keep up with the vanishing trail, all through downtown Fry, finally ending at the door of the Nice Dream Ice Cream shop.

  Otto dropped the bike at the curb and pushed through the shop’s door. The Clock Watchers sitting on stools, at tables, and in booths were sullen, hunched over bowls of ice cream. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and other flavors smeared their mouths as they shoveled down spoonful after spoonful, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence. On two stools, with elbows propped on the countertop, were the Golden Hours, looking sad as sad could be, their bowls piled high with no fewer than eight unmelting scoops each.

  “A.M.,” Otto said, “P.M., what’s going on here?”

  Only A.M. glanced over. P.M. kept shoveling ice cream.

  “Guys?” Otto pleaded.

  “Mr. Flux has won,” A.M. said.

  P.M. spoke, though his words were distorted by the spoon in his mouth. “Our thibilings thave thoined that thonster.”

  Otto took a second to translate: Our siblings have joined that monster.

  A.M. said, “That monster made an offer that many of our brethren couldn’t refuse. Clock Watchers need something to do. When time is frozen, there aren’t many options.”

  “You two aren’t thinking of joining Mr. Flux, are you?”

  “Goodness, no. Have you seen his suit? Not even our skills are enough to help that situation.”

  That was good to hear, though not quite good enough. Scanning the room, Otto saw only a fraction of the Clock Watchers that he’d first encountered at the library. More Clock Watchers had attacked them in Petey’s backyard than were in the shop now. Though he did see old, wise Father Time in a corner booth next to a less-than-energetic Game Time. Father Time had toffee chips in his beard.

  “The thay est losht!” said P.M., shoving ice cream into his mouth.

  Otto shook his head. “No. The day is not lost.”

  “My brother is right,” said A.M. She stared glumly at Otto, and even her bright yellow skirt seemed duller somehow.

  What could Otto say? The truth was he felt the same way. Everything that could go wrong had. And who was to blame?

  Me, Otto thought. He just couldn’t figure out if he meant current him or TimeStar him. Either way, he could not give up the day. “I know you guys like to move around a lot, but can you promise that you’ll keep all these Clock Watchers here until I get back?”

  “Depends,” said A.M. “What would we be waiting on?”

  “A plan,” Otto said.

  P.M. shrugged. “As long as there’s ice cream, we’ll be here.”

  It wasn’t the most enthusiastic answer, but Otto took it, rushing from the shop and grabbing the bike again.

  By the time he reached Petey’s, he was gasping, and it felt like his heart might pump out of his chest. The way the day had been going, he’d expected to find Petey’s house deserted, forcing him into another search mission to find TimeStar. For once, his luck held, Petey and TimeStar were still in the basement workshop, discussing their own futile strategies, looking as depressed as the ice cream shop Clock Watchers.

  “Ott
o!” Petey said, happy to see him. Then correcting himself, “Younger Otto.”

  TimeStar said, “I’m happy you came back. I was worried.”

  “Where’s Sheed?” Otto asked.

  TimeStar said, “We were just discussing that. We were going to question Bed Time, the frozen Clock Watcher in the backyard, to see if she could tell us.”

  “No,” Otto corrected him, scared to go down this path, but needing to. “Not my Sheed. Your Sheed. If you’re a time-traveling adventurer, where’s your partner?”

  “He’s on a separate adventure right now.” TimeStar’s eyes flicked left, and he frowned.

  The liar tick.

  Otto stomped forward, jabbing his finger at TimeStar. “You’re not telling the truth. You did a lying tick thing that Wiki Ellison told me about, and I can’t figure why you’d lie about Future Sheed unless something bad happens to him. You better tell me where my cousin is right now.” Otto screamed, “Tell me!”

  TimeStar placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let’s talk outside.”

  Otto ran from the basement into the backyard and sat with his back against Missus Thunkle’s biggest flowerpot, cupping his face in his hands and crying out his fear. He knew he would not get rid of it all. TimeStar emerged from the basement and sat close. Side by side, the two of him.

  “You don’t recognize the name TimeStar. Do you?” he asked.

  Otto shook his head. “Should I?”

  “A lot of things are fuzzy to me now, but I’m certain we’re a few months from when you and Sheed think it up. TimeStar is a superhero in the made-up comic book world you two like to draw. Your version has cooler clothes than what I’m wearing, though.”

  “Your clothes look cool to me,” Otto sniveled.

  “That’s because you don’t live where I live.” He seemed to think that over. “Yet.”

  “What happened to your Sheed?” Otto was finally ready to hear if his most recent and horrible deduction was true. “Did he . . . die?”

  TimeStar took several long, hard breaths before answering, “Yes.”

  Otto began crying again. “How? Is it one of our adventures? Do we run into something we can’t handle?”

  “I’m not sure I should tell you anything more. I have to be careful not to change—”

  “Things about the past! I know!” In an emotional explosion that was as surprising as any of today’s weirdness, Otto hauled off and hit TimeStar—​an adult—​in the chest. Hard. Hard enough to hurt his hand. “Why do you keep saying that? Stop saying that!”

  TimeStar winced but didn’t try to defend himself. Otto hit him again and again. Creating a hollow drumbeat with every strike.

  “Why are you here if you can’t help Sheed not die? What good are you?”

  Otto pounded on TimeStar until he was tired and had to catch his breath.

  TimeStar massaged the areas where he’d been struck but showed no anger. “Talk about beating myself up.”

  “Don’t make jokes!”

  “I’m sorry, man. It’s not some Logan County monster, nothing like that. He’s sick. Or he will be.”

  Otto sprang to his feet. “That’s it? Then we’ll tell Grandma, and she’ll get a doctor to fix him before he gets bad.”

  TimeStar was shaking his head from the moment Otto got to his feet. “It’s not that simple. Some illnesses doctors can’t fix. And you’re not telling Grandma anything.” TimeStar had an edge in his voice then. “Not one word. She deserves to have the rest of her time thinking both her grandsons will be fine, Otto.”

  That hit like a bucket of cold water. “The rest of her time? Grandma dies, too?”

  “Otto, of course. Eventually.” TimeStar slapped a hand behind his right ear, slowly rose, and retreated into Missus Thunkle’s garden. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

  Otto stomped after him. “Too late for that. So you might as well keep flapping those gums.”

  TimeStar spun back toward him, head cocked. “Flapping those gums? Dude, you sound so much like her . . .”

  Her was Grandma. That was one of her favorite sayings. Thinking about her hurt now. It never had before.

  “It’s a sickness that’s in his blood,” TimeStar said. “His cells. There’s no cure.”

  “There has to be.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “Not even in your time? Where you come from?”

  TimeStar shook his head. “Even if there was, there are just certain things you don’t do. Rules you don’t break without . . . consequences. You start messing with the laws of nature too much, you become like Mr. Flux, messing stuff up so bad there’s no telling if it can ever go back to normal.”

  Otto was mad again. Moving between sadness and anger this fast and hard would give him whiplash, but he couldn’t stop. “There’s no such thing as normal in Logan County! How could you forget that?”

  “You’d be surprised how much you forget when you grow up. Stuff that used to be an adventure becomes scary. You worry about getting hurt and not being able to go to work.”

  “Are you a soldier?” Otto recognized how hopeful he sounded. “Or a pilot?”

  “No. I’m neither of those things. I’m not going to tell you details, but I sit at a desk most of the day. I look at a monitor.”

  “That sounds boring.”

  “It is. Want to hear something more boring? I—​we—​have a condo.”

  Otto didn’t know what to say about that. He returned to the more important topic. “Why did you come here? What’s the point? Sneak around like a creeper, then disappear? All you did was mess stuff up, and you can’t help Sheed. Why bother?”

  “I just wanted to see him again. All right?”

  “No. It’s not! Because you’re telling me I’m going to give up and then I become a boring desk slug without Grandma or Sheed. That’s not the way it’s supposed to happen. I’m supposed to be a legend, with my cousin. Not live in a condo. Not be . . . be . . . you!”

  TimeStar wrapped his arms around Otto. At first Otto tried to wrench away—​fighting, punching, kicking. TimeStar didn’t let go. He held on to his kid self until Otto buried his face in the time traveler’s chest and cried some more, no longer embarrassed.

  Why should he be when grown-up him, who’d broken the laws of physics and the future to glimpse his beloved cousin one more time, was crying too?

  33

  Maneuver #73

  Petey allowed them their moment, though not a long one. He cleared his throat loudly, which made Otto and TimeStar separate. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we need to find that Mr. Flux guy, right?”

  “Right.” TimeStar turned away, fixing his face.

  Otto did the same.

  TimeStar pointed with his chin. “I bet she knows.”

  “She” was the Clock Watcher called Bed Time, still frozen from Sheed’s camera shot. TimeStar puffed up his chest and made a show of cracking his knuckles, but when the childlike Clock Watcher’s bottom lip began to quiver, he backed down. “Hey, hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just we need to know how to find Mr. Flux. I don’t want things to get unpleasant between us, but—”

  “He’s in the clock tower,” said Bed Time. “Him, a lot of Clock Watchers, and a bunch of Time Sucks.”

  “Really?” TimeStar sounded surprised. “That easy?”

  “I don’t like Mr. Flux. I want you to stop him.”

  Otto said, “Why were you helping him, then?”

  “He said I could stay up.” Bed Time yawned.

  Awesome. Otto said, “Is there any other helpful stuff you can tell us?”

  “You’re going to lose.”

  Petey said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

  They’d been overwhelmed by Mr. Flux’s backyard Clock Watcher attack. If the remaining Clock Watchers at the ice cream shop were the only ones who hadn’t gone to his side, then Mr. Flux had a small army. Plus the camera. Plus Sheed.

  Otto made himself not think much abou
t his cousin, because he didn’t want to cry again.

  TimeStar said, “Any chance you’ve got a maneuver for this that I’ve forgotten about?”

  “No. No maneuvers this ti—”

  Hold on. That wasn’t actually true.

  Another of Grandma’s favorite sayings was you learn something new every day. The Legendary Alston Boys’ maneuvers always came from learning something new while on an adventure, something that Otto catalogued for later. There’d been a lot of new lessons today, one in particular just might be New Maneuver Worthy.

  TimeStar said, “I know that look. What are you thinking, Otto?”

  “I think we need to go for ice cream right now. Follow me.”

  So they did.

  * * *

  A.M. and P.M. still had full heaping bowls of creamy goodness when Otto, TimeStar, and Petey entered the Nice Dream Ice Cream shop. What had changed were the number of empty seats. There were fewer Clock Watchers here than before.

  Otto said, “Did more of them go to Mr. Flux?”

  Butter pecan dribbled down P.M.’s chin and dripped onto his neckerchief. “It would seem that way.”

  Otto’s heart fell into his left shoe. They needed more support, not less. So many sullen faces here. Father Time simply bent forward, bumping his forehead on a table repeatedly. Game Time flicked glances at the door, as if she was considering leaving too.

  Sheed would’ve known what to do here. He would’ve gotten angry and thrown something, or gotten excited and jumped on the table so every one could hear him, and they would’ve listened. Those were his maneuvers.

  Otto turned to TimeStar. “Can you say something to them? You’re an adult. They might listen.”

  Otto’s grown-up self knelt and grabbed the boy by both shoulders. “I’m an adult, but I’m also you. Technically, this is your time, dude. You got this.”

  TimeStar released him, and he faced the room. “Hey, everybody . . .”

  His voice was too low, drowned by clinking spoons and woeful moans. Otto took a deep breath and thought, I got this.