The Last Last-Day-of-Summer Page 15

  He shouted, “HEY, EVERYBODY! LISTEN UP!”

  Every Clock Watcher in the place focused on him. Father Time stopped banging his head on the table. “Things have gone pretty wrong today,” said Otto. “Some of that is my fault. Most of it is on Mr. Flux. I think you all know that.”

  Murmuring agreement rumbled throughout the place.

  Otto said, “What’s happening now, though, is your fault.”

  All that agreement mess stopped.

  “What do you mean?” several Second Guessers said at once.

  “Ice cream is delicious. I don’t blame you for that. But this feels like Give Up Ice Cream, not Get Ready to Fight Ice Cream.”

  The Second Guessers grumbled some more; Otto thought they might jump him.

  Father Time spoke up. “What would you have us do? Our function is managing time, and that’s not important anymore.”

  “Your function has to be different now. You have to adjust. To save time. That’s very important.”

  A disgruntled Minute Man with poor aim flung a maraschino cherry in the general direction of Otto’s head. “Easy for you to say. You human persons are always flip-flopping about. Changing this plan. Changing that plan. All that flexibility is simple for you.”

  A lone Clock Watcher stood in the corner. He wore a vest that displayed a bunch of digital clock faces. They all kept flickering, changing, springing forward an hour, then falling back. He raised his hand and said, “I’m fine with flexibility.”

  The cranky Minute Man threw a handful of chopped walnuts at him. “Nobody asked you, Daylight Savings Time!”

  Otto clenched his fists. “I usually have a partner, someone who helps me handle stuff. He’s gone, and . . . I don’t know if I’m going to ever get him back.”

  TimeStar, visible from the corner of Otto’s eye, nodded. Keep going.

  “I’m going to have to figure out how to do stuff on my own. I don’t know if I’m going to be good at it. It might go super bad when we get out there and face Mr. Flux, but I’m going anyway. If at least some of you help me, then we have a chance. Or just keep eating ice cream forever. It’s up to you.” Otto snatched a cherry from A.M.’s big bowl and tossed it at that Minute Man, dinging him right in the nose. “That’s for Sheed! Now, who’s with me?”

  A.M. and P.M. put down their spoons. A.M. clutched her skirt and hopped off her stool. “We always liked the look of you,” she said.

  “Your determination is so chic,” said P.M., joining her.

  Game Time leapt onto Father Time’s table. “Yeaaaahhhhh!”

  The Second Guessers huddled together, conferred, then broke with a simultaneous clap. “We guess we’ll help.”

  One by one, the remaining Clock Watchers joined in. Reluctantly, perhaps, but Otto couldn’t afford to turn anyone away because of low enthusiasm. If that had been enough to disqualify participants, he’d have left Petey behind.

  TimeStar slapped a hand on Otto’s back. “I told you you had this. I’m really proud of us. So, what’s the maneuver?”

  “It’s a new one. Maneuver #73: unstick our army.”

  34

  An Easy Assumption

  Missus Nedraw, the proprietor of the Rorrim Mirror Emporium, had been the answer, proof that all was not lost. A.M. and P.M. had touched her, along with Otto and Sheed, and she’d been permanently unfrozen, free to chase her mirror monsters.

  Entry #78

  A Clock Watcher touch + a human touch = an unfrozen person.

  DEDUCTION: Enough unfrozen Fry residents could rival Mr. Flux’s Clock Watcher army.

  Three unstuck humans—​Otto, TimeStar, and Petey—​and not very many Clock Watchers meant they better get moving.

  “We won’t be able to unfreeze everyone, but I’ve got a few names in mind. A.M. and P.M., you’re fast, can you two help zip me and TimeStar around the county?”

  The Golden Hours nodded fervently.

  “What about me?” Petey asked.

  “I’ve got a different job for you. I just need to get you a lab partner.” Otto explained what he meant, and when he finished, Petey grinned big.

  TimeStar said, “Where do you want me to go first?”

  “For now, we’re sticking together.”

  “Why? We’ll cover more ground if we split up.” He stopped, considered. “I’m really debating with myself.”

  Another Grandma saying came to mind: you boys could start an argument with your own reflections.

  Otto scribbled in his notebook, thinking as he wrote. “We’ll split up soon enough. Gonna need your help with something big first.”

  “If you say so.”

  Otto ran around the ice cream shop, his notepad pages fluttering. Between the day’s observations, deductions, and next steps, this maneuver was the most complicated yet. Very likely one-use-only. There’d be no second chances.

  With everyone assigned their role, Otto asked, “Any questions?”

  Father Time raised his hand. “If we win, can we have more ice cream?”

  Otto said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

  * * *

  Petey explained to the Golden Hours that when they carried Otto and TimeStar around the county, they couldn’t move at light speed. “Going that fast will disintegrate a human.”

  A.M. and P.M. nodded thoughtfully. “Good to know.”

  The Golden Hours going nowhere near their top speed were still pretty darn fast, getting Otto and TimeStar from the ice cream shop to the edge of the Gnarled Forest, where Wiki and Leen Ellison remained frozen.

  TimeStar said, “Oh, wow! The Epic Ellisons.”

  “Me and P.M. will unfreeze Leen. You and A.M. get Wiki.”

  TimeStar moved toward Leen before Otto finished talking. “You take Wiki.”

  “Um, okay. I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  TimeStar and A.M. worked on unfreezing Leen. Otto approached Wiki, and was not looking forward to it. “Listen, I’m going to unstick you now. I have to touch you to do it. Is it okay if I grab your arm?”

  Grandma said they should always ask permission before touching people. No matter the circumstance, even if time was frozen.

  “Yes, you can touch my arm.”

  Otto reached for her and motioned for P.M. to do the same. “I’m going to have to explain something kind of unbelievable to you.”

  Wiki said, “That old guy and you are the same person. He must be from the future. Which means time travel is a thing.”

  Otto snatched his hand back, semi-furious. “How do you know that?”

  “I saw you two standing side by side. Even with him being older, you share thirty-two identical facial characteristics. Me and Leen don’t have that many similarities, and we’re twins. It’s either time travel or some kind of cloning experiment. I estimated time travel was seventy-seven percent more likely. An easy assumption.”

  Huffing but forcing himself to focus, Otto grasped her arm. P.M. touched her shoulder, and Wiki sagged from her previous frozen state. Smiling, she flexed, bounced in place, shadowboxed the air with several quick jabs. A few yards away, Leen Ellison stretched, enjoying freedom, the gear in her tool belt clanking with each movement. “You okay, Wiki?”

  “Good to go, sis.” Wiki leaned into Otto and whispered, “Where’s Sheed?”

  “We’re going to get him. We need your help.”

  Wiki dismissed that with a hand wave. “Of course you need our help to get your Sheed, nothing new there.” She jutted her chin toward TimeStar. “Where’s his Sheed? The way you two are, how’s grown-up you not with grown-up him?”

  He didn’t bother turning away or try to control his facial expressions. He didn’t care to hide what he knew of Sheed’s fate. It was a hard secret to have.

  “Oh.” Wiki sounded uncharacteristically . . . kind and sad. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.” She touched his arm, and a tiny electric shock passed between them. Even though she hadn’t asked first, it was okay.

  “Don’t be sorry yet. Our Sheed is in the clock t
ower, and he needs us.”

  “Then he’s got us.” She stepped closer, still touching his arm, and whispered, “Don’t tell Leen about Old Sheed. You know how she gets.”

  Otto actually didn’t know how Leen got, beyond her knack for building strange, dangerous machines. He nodded anyway.

  Wiki yelled to her sister, “Hey, Leen! Time to go to work.”

  Leen’s lip quivered; her head whipped between Wiki and the woods. “But my robot.”

  “Leave it for now. We’ll come back—”

  Otto stopped her. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on leaving it.”

  According to his notes, big objects could be unfrozen when two people touched them—​just like the upside-down levitating car on Main Street.

  Otto delved into the shadows toward the massive machine. “Hey, TimeStar, do you mind giving me a hand?”

  * * *

  There were other stops to make, other allies to recruit. Mr. Archie and Anna, once unstuck, provided supplies from their hardware store. Dr. Medina wanted in on the fight, and promised her healthiest animals would help, too. (Otto didn’t know how that was going to work exactly, but he wasn’t in a position to turn away volunteers.)

  Missus Nedraw, however, was not so willing.

  “No,” she shrieked, coiling a bandage around a circular, sucker-shaped bruise on her calf—​an injury sustained wrestling the mirror tentacles. “I almost lost a prisoner because of your carelessness. I will not leave my post here at the emporium, and you cannot have any of the things you asked for. You created this problem, you fix it on your own! Do you hear?”

  Otto had been afraid this might happen, so he gave P.M. the signal they’d discussed, and quickly (though not so quick that they’d disintegrate the warden) Missus Nedraw got zipped from the Mirror Emporium and dropped off fifty miles away at a Walmart in Richmond.

  P.M. returned to Otto directing Clock Watchers and county residents to gather the necessary items. When he was sure the plan was being executed to his satisfaction, Otto said, “Get me back to the lab while the others finish up here.”

  In a blink, he was at Petey’s. P.M. gave a polite nod, then zipped away again.

  Leen hunched over TimeStar’s malfunctioning time travel device, Petey at her shoulder. The two of them grinned, heads bobbing in agreement. Otto hoped that was a good sign.

  “What did you find out?”

  Leen spun her chair so they faced each other, pointed at some new complicated drawing on Petey’s corkboard. All graph lines, and swooping curves, and mathematical equations that looked like a language from another planet.

  She said, “This device is fine as far as I can tell. There’s no damage to it. All interior connections and circuits—​if that’s what you even call parts this advanced—​haven’t been disturbed.”

  “So why can’t TimeStar go home?”

  Petey said, “It was so obvious once Leen suggested it. Thank you, Leen.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Petey.” Leen bowed to the applause in her head.

  “TimeStar’s trying to go forward in time. There is no forward when time is frozen. Unless we win, we’re at the end.”

  Otto whipped out his notepad jotting that down, another deduction—​and maybe one more maneuver—​came to mind. “Okay. We’re almost ready. Even if we weren’t, we can’t wait. There’s no telling what kind of horrible things Mr. Flux is doing to Sheed, if he hasn’t outright frozen him already. We have to rescue him now!”

  Petey and Leen—​especially Leen—​agreed, wholeheartedly. The horrors Sheed was surely enduring were beyond imagining.

  35

  The Horror

  “Ow!” Sheed screamed, pinching his wrist where Mr. Flux’s minion had pricked him with her terrifying needle.

  “Hold still, sir,” said the Clock Watcher, making another torturous attempt.

  Sheed tore his arm from the monster’s grasp and pleaded with Mr. Flux. “Please stop. We don’t have to do this.”

  Mr. Flux, his head cocked, evaluated the Clock Watcher’s nasty work. “I think we do, Rasheed. That sleeve is a bit long. Don’t you think so, Stitch?”

  A Stitch in Time stood tall, snaking the yellow measuring tape over her shoulder and jabbing the offending needle into the pumpkin-shaped pincushion affixed to her wrist. “I refuse to deal with a human who can’t appreciate quality tailoring.” Frustrated, she huffed away.

  Sheed stared at himself in Stitch’s tall mirror and barely recognized what he saw. As Mr. Flux’s new second in command, he was required to wear a suit, like when Grandma dragged them to church on Sundays. Sheed hated suits.

  Particularly this one, a replica of Mr. Flux’s black pants, black jacket, white shirt. The only thing missing was—​

  “Here’s your hat.” Mr. Flux shoved a familiar looking stovepipe hat at him.

  When he’d agreed to the deal he’d been offered (really, what kind of offer was it—​join or freeze), Sheed hadn’t known about the dress code. If he had, he might’ve chosen freezing. His jeans, sneakers, T-shirt, and Flamingos jersey lay in a messy pile nearby. Abandoned so Sheed could become a mini Mr. Flux.

  If Otto saw him now . . .

  “Do I detect sadness, Rasheed? Are you reminiscing about your old life?”

  “No.”

  “Because if you were, I’d remind you of how underappreciated you were there. And how perfectly appreciated you are here. I gave you a suit. What do you say?”

  “Thanks.”

  Mr. Flux placed the hat atop Sheed’s head, the brim resting on his brow. “Now I have bad news. Your fantastic new suit is going to get dirty. You can blame your cousin for it.”

  “Otto? What?”

  “Our people have been watching him run around the county, stirring up things. He’s planning an attack soon. When he arrives, I want to be sure you’re not confused about your loyalty.” His hands caressed the camera around his neck; his thumb hovered by the shutter button. “Are you confused, Rasheed?”

  Sheed plucked at the fabric of his new shirt, forced himself not to look at his jersey in the corner. “No. I’m not.”

  “Good.” There was a mighty racket outside, crunching steel and shattering glass. Inside the clock tower, the legions of Clock Watchers scrambled, panicked. “Because your sweet cousin Octavius is here.”

  36

  The Battle of Fry

  Otto marched into Town Square with his friends, his heartbeat thumping throughout his entire body. TimeStar was at his side, as was Petey. Anna Archie and her dad backed him up, along with Petey’s mom (because Missus Thunkle wasn’t letting her Lovebug go fight a Time War without her). Father Time and Game Time and the Second Guessers and the Minute Men and Dr. Medina, with a pack of assorted animals who all seemed to, oddly, follow her every command, were present. Mr. James brought his smoker and grill to the edge of the square. His thinking: “Y’all gonna be hungry after all that fighting.”

  If they were still capable of eating.

  A single shot from Mr. Flux’s camera could freeze them all, so Otto made sure to approach the clock tower from an angle where they couldn’t be seen from some high window, easy targets. The closer they got, the more Otto understood that Mr. Flux had no intention of fighting at a distance. His Clock Watchers—​dozens upon dozens—​spilled from the tower, filling the square, meeting them head-on.

  Then there were the Time Suck beasts. While the friendly one they’d left grazing by the Eternal Creek now roamed with Otto and friends, at least ten more were under the command of Flux’s army, their duck bills raised high and their frightening honks echoing all through Fry.

  The last and biggest Time Suck clambered down from the clock tower with Mr. Flux himself stuck on its back like a tick. He was not alone.

  Sheed rode with him. Though he didn’t look much like Sheed, dressed in a black suit and hat that matched Mr. Flux’s.

  Otto had feared his cousin was being tortured or was time frozen. This was worse.

  Con
fident—​really, just smug—​Mr. Flux rode his Time Suck to the frontline, facing off with Otto. Only a thirty-yard gap and a statue of Fry’s founder, Fullerton French Fryer, separated them. Raising his hand, Mr. Flux silenced the rowdy rumbling from his troops, who had to outnumber Otto’s army three to one.

  Mr. Flux halted his Time Suck, then stood tall on its back, like when Sheed stood on his bike seat while it was still rolling, nearly giving Grandma a heart attack. He surveyed Otto’s troops, basked in his supremacy. “Welcome, everyone. I’m so glad you’re here. It gives me such great pleasure to accept your surrender in person.”

  TimeStar gave a go-ahead nod. Otto cleared his throat, and said, “We want you to unfreeze time. Then leave. You’re not welcome in Logan County.”

  “But I like it here. I’ve made new friends. Isn’t that right, Rasheed?”

  Sheed rose to his feet, much more wobbly than when he did the bike seat trick, but managed to find his balance next to his new twin, Mr. Flux. Both of their hats slanted in the same eerie manner as Sheed said, “Yep.”

  Leen Ellison did not take it well. “Sheed? What you think you’re doing? You’re going to fall and break your neck. Get down here! You belong with us.”

  “No, dear. He belongs with the winners.” Mr. Flux raised the camera, aimed it at Otto’s entire crew. “I’m going to give the smart ones among you the time it takes to run from your side to mine before I press this little button and turn you all into monuments like Fullerton French Fryer here. How’s that—”

  Sheed tapped Mr. Flux’s shoulder.

  “Yes, Rasheed.”

  Sheed swung a swift roundhouse kick into Mr. Flux’s groin.

  Flux “ooofed!” clenched his knees together, then toppled sideways on his furry steed’s broad back, accidentally firing off a camera shot that froze a Time Suck and several members of the Flux army to his immediate left.