In Todd We Trust Page 9

  Max’s eyes were huge, and he seemed truly terrified. Madame Dauphinee whirled around and faced the rest of her shocked swimmers. With a shaking hand she smoothed her black bun, then waved us away. “Allez vous-en! Go home! Practice is postponed until further notice.” She pulled the whistle off and wound its white cord around her hands distractedly, muttering, “I need a Xanax …” Then more loudly she added, “I mean, I need some towels and a bucket. I should start skimming the lighter fluid out of the pool.”

  The kids scattered in all directions. I offered to help clean up, but Madame Dauphinee shooed me off, her eyes glazed over like she wasn’t really seeing me. “Merci, Todd. But this mess is beyond both of us. We aren’t exactly equipped to handle pyromaniacs around here.” She let out a weird, loud laugh, and I slowly backed away.

  I hoped Max hadn’t broken Madame Dauphinee already.

  I mean, I hadn’t even gotten to taste her crêpes.

  • • •

  Thankfully, Max had left by the time I got to the locker room.

  “Good thinking in there,” I said to Charity when I caught up to her in front of the school. She was sitting on a stone bench with her head leaned against the trunk of a tree.

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” She looked pretty shook up too.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Sorry about all of that. Max is totally—”

  “A moron?” she said, jumping up. “Max Loving. What kind of name is that, even?”

  “I know, right? It’s like he got named on Opposite Day.”

  At that moment I was treated to something amazing: Charity’s laugh. The sound was heavenly; it sounded just like the tokens falling when you won on the Coin Pusher at Dave and Buster’s.

  Charity thinks I’m funny!

  And then something even more amazing happened. “Hey,” she said, “let’s hang out and play some Dragon Sensei! I need to release some energy.”

  Was I dreaming this? Did the prettiest girl in school, maybe in the entire city, just ask me if I wanted to have a Dragon Sensei battle jam? I nodded, and we started walking toward my street. But then I remembered the Toddlians and how I’d just insisted to Lucy that no one else could find out about them. That means even girls with tinkly laughs and hair like golden waterfalls …

  “Oh,” I said, trying to sound casual, “but could we go to my friend Duddy’s house? He’s like the absolute grand master of all things Dragon Sensei. Plus our weapons and costumes are stored in his basement.”

  Charity smiled and agreed, so we strolled slowly down Olympia Avenue, talking about our favorite episodes and characters. I knew I was only twelve, but still, I was pretty sure this was one of those memories I’d look back on and smile about when I was eighty. The October sky was as blue as Charity’s eyes, the air was crisp and clear, and the trees were … well, Boston is famous for its beautiful fall leaves. Funny, I’d never really noticed them before, even though Mom loaded us into the van every October to go “leaf-peeping.”

  It got quiet for a minute, so I pointed at my house. “That’s where I live.”

  She stopped and studied it. “Nice place. Maybe next time we can go to your house.”

  I felt my face warming up as I tried to imagine her inside my house, in my room even. Would it be enough to hide the Toddlians? It just made me nervous … “That’d be cool. I should warn you, though. My baby sister Daisy is a living nightmare.”

  “You have a baby sister?” she squealed. “I loooove babies! Is she cute?”

  “Well …” I didn’t usually think of the Toddling Terror in those terms.

  “Of course she’s cute,” Charity answered for me. “All babies are cute. Besides,” she said, glancing sideways at me, “she has you for a brother.”

  Wait, was Charity calling me cute? My face burned, and I couldn’t speak.

  Luckily, by that time we’d reached Duddy’s house.

  “He’s out,” Duddy’s sister Erin said as soon as she answered the bell.

  “Can you tell us where he went?” Charity asked as I tried to peer into the hallway.

  “Lucy Pedoto’s house,” she replied, shrugging her bony shoulders. Duddy’s sister looked just like Duddy, but stretched out and with long hair. She must have noticed my bewildered expression because she quickly added, “Yeah, I don’t know why he’s there either.” Then she slammed the door.

  That made zero sense. Duddy never visited Lucy without me.

  Charity turned to me. “Maybe we should just go to your house.”

  “No! Um, I mean, Duddy is really good at role-playing,” I said. “Maybe we can just go to Lucy’s and see what’s up?”

  Charity looked skeptical. “Who’s Lucy, anyway?”

  “Just my neighbor,” I said, turning around and heading toward Lucy’s. After a second, Charity followed.

  “All right.”

  When we got to the Pedotos’, I knocked on the front door. Mrs. Pedoto opened it, giving us one of her warm welcomes. “Well, hellooo, Todd! And who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

  Charity extended her hand and smiled. “I’m Charity Driscoll. Nice to meet you.”

  Mrs. Pedoto was clearly impressed with Charity’s manners. “I’m sure Lucy will be delighted to see you, Charity.” She patted a couple of bar stools. “Why don’t you two have a seat while I find you a little snack.”

  Mrs. Pedoto dug around in the fridge, and Charity looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Gosh, we’re not really …” I began, but Mrs. Pedoto had already gathered a tray of her “famous” gluten-free molasses ginger snaps, which were as hard as hockey pucks.

  We gnawed politely on the cookies while Mrs. Pedoto asked Charity a list of questions: “You don’t sound like you’re from Boston; are you new in town? How do you feel about going to public school? In Florida, did you ever encounter an alligator in your plumbing, or is that just an urban legend?”

  Finally Mrs. Pedoto released us from interrogation, and we walked down the hall to find Lucy’s bedroom door open. When Charity and I entered, Lucy and Duddy were bent over her lab table, wearing goggles and adjusting some kind of laser beam.

  “Uh, hi, guys,” I stammered when they didn’t notice us.

  A red-faced Duddy raised his goggles and took in Charity and me. “Er, hey, Todd! Charity. I’m just helping Lucy build her, uh … caesarean clock.”

  “Cesium clock,” Lucy corrected gently. She glanced at me, then shot a dubious look at Charity, who’d walked over to investigate. “It’s an atomic clock.”

  Charity pointed to the digital clock on Lucy’s nightstand. “Why do you need an atomic clock? What’s wrong with that one?”

  Lucy gave Charity the once-over, clearly unimpressed. “I’m sorry, you are … ?”

  Charity looked her right in the eye. “Charity Driscoll. My family just moved into town, and I’m on the swim team with Todd. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand, and Lucy reluctantly grabbed the tips of her fingers for a limp shake.

  “Ahem. Sorry. There’s nothing wrong with this clock, per se, but for the most precise time you need an atomic clock. Cesium clocks keep time better than the earth’s rotation—”

  “Better than the stars!” Duddy chimed in.

  Lucy smiled at her pupil. “Let me break it down for you guys.” She rolled her whiteboard over and went into full geek mode, filling it up with scientific lingo and numbers. I couldn’t follow her at all, and Charity looked totally lost, but Dudster grinned and nodded like “genius” was his middle name.

  Seriously, what is he doing here?

  “I’d hoped to build a rubidium atomic clock,” Lucy said. “But that would have been a complete waste of time since cesium clocks are more accurate.”

  Duddy nodded excitedly. “Tell them how accurate.”

  Lucy pointed to a ginormous number. “Cesium atoms emit microwaves that oscillate, or ‘tick,’ nine billion, one hundred ninety-two million, six hundred thirty-one thousand, seven hundred seventy times a second; they’re only off once ever
y three million years.”

  Charity whistled. “Wow, that’s pretty accurate. Are you a member of Mensa or something?”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow like Mensa was for losers. I knew for a fact she had aced the entrance test when she was nine and a half. “I just value accuracy, Charlotte,” she huffed.

  “Charity,” Duddy, Charity, and I all said at once.

  “Charity means ‘love,’” Charity added, sending me a dimpled smile.

  “Oh, really?” Lucy replied, fiddling with one of her lasers. “I think, more accurately, it means helping those who can’t take care of themselves.”

  Charity’s eyes flashed, and her full lips shrunk into a straight line.

  Duddy blundered on, oblivious as ever. “Well, if there’s one thing Charity doesn’t need help in, it’s swimming. She’s absolutely amazing in the water! Isn’t she, Todd?”

  “She’s from Florida,” I said again stupidly, like that explained everything. “We were wondering if you wanted to play Dragon Sensei, Duddy. But I guess you’re busy.”

  “OH!” Duddy shouted, jumping up and pointing to the closet. “Charity, you have to see Lucy’s Vespa costume! It is THE COOLEST THING EVER! Isn’t it, Todd?”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “It has hologram wings and a light-up stinger.”

  Charity’s eyebrows went up. “I’ve heard about this costume. May I see it?”

  Lucy jerked her head at the closet. “It’s hanging in there.” She turned her back on us and scribbled more scientific gibberish on her whiteboard. Charity looked confused.

  “So what do you think?” I said to Duddy. “Wanna have a little battle jam?”

  “Well …” Duddy walked over to the closet, found the costume, and laid it out on Lucy’s bed.

  Charity whistled again. “That is amazing! Lucy, would you model it?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I mean … I’m kind of …”

  “Come on, put it on, Lucy,” I coaxed. “We can all go over to Duddy’s and role-play.” I turned to Charity. “You can borrow Duddy’s Saki costume. It’s sweet.”

  Lucy cleared her throat. “I don’t think so. I should really get back to work.” She looked from me to Charity, her gaze cooling. “I’m really invested in this clock right now. But you guys feel free to go play games.”

  “Um, ooookay … Since you’re not going, could Charity wear your Vespa suit?” I turned to Charity, who was sitting next to me. I didn’t know why Lucy was being so weird, but at least the three of us could still play. “I know Vespa’s not your favorite character, but you’d look really good in it.”

  I looked at Charity eagerly, but the room had gone weirdly silent.

  What did I say?

  Suddenly Lucy swooped down and snatched the costume out of Charity’s hands. “It needs some repair work before it’s ready to be worn,” she snapped. “Besides, I don’t think it would be big enough to fit Charlene.”

  “Charity,” Duddy whispered.

  “That’s okay,” Charity said in a syrupy voice. “Like I told Todd, Vespa’s a little too spiteful for my taste. I prefer to play someone classier, like Varusa, the Lizard Queen. Duddy, would you like to join us?”

  Duddy’s eyes lit up for a second, but then he cleared his throat. “Uh … well, I did promise Lucy that I’d help her. It takes two people to work the lasers and stop the atoms from zipping back and forth.” He gave me a sheepish grin.

  “Todd, you and I could have a duel by ourselves at your place,” Charity suggested.

  Lucy whirled back around to the whiteboard, and I stared at the carpet, trying to get my head around Duddy not wanting to come … and Charity wanting to play just with me. There was also the small-but-not-really issue of the Toddlians. If Charity came back to my house, what was I supposed to do with them? “Erm, it’s getting a little late, and I have some pre-algebra homework …”

  Duddy shot me a surprised look, and I swear Lucy grinned at her whiteboard. Even Charity seemed confused, then finally said, “Well, this has been stimulating, but I’ve got to get home and help my mom with dinner.”

  “Right,” I said, feeling kind of relieved. For some reason I was really eager to get out of this room. “I’d better go too.”

  Charity and I each picked up our things, and after some quick goodbyes, we were headed in opposite directions on the sidewalk—her toward her house, me toward mine.

  I chewed my lip as I walked, thinking.

  What was going on with my friends?

  CHAPTER 11

  PERSEPHONE

  Where’s Herman?” young Marty asked me, sidling up as I brushed Tenderfoot the cricket in her matchstick stall.

  “Durned if I know,” I said, shaking my head. Herman’d been MIA since the Exodus disaster. Lewis’d seen him holed up in his new office, really just a study room off the library, reading printouts from that dadgummed Intra-Net Todd was always going slack-jawed in front of. “Probably molderin’ away somewhere, workin’ on his ‘Big Plan.’”

  “Do we know what his New Big Plan is?” Chester wondered. “Since the boat sank?”

  “Nope. All’s we know is thet he has one. Mebbe he’s planning on settin’ up a ranch somewheres.” Hopefully in Lucy’s room. Now that is a gal I sure could get used to. She has some get-up-’n’-go.

  Suddenly Marty looked up and then pointed into the air. “Er … what’s that?”

  There was a roar of wings like a locomotive steamin’ full blast, the exact same noise we’d heard before.

  “L-look!” Chester stammered, pointing into the air. Two ginormous black beasts with bulgy red eyes flew lightnin’ fast from the direction of the Red Thing Lucy’d called an “apple.” My mouth went dry.

  “RUN!” I screamed to Marty, but he didn’t move on account of havin’ fainted dead away. “Aw, for the love of Pete.” I ain’t afeared of much, but when I saw those red glittery eyes up close, I threw Marty over my shoulder and lit a shuck for the nearest hut like nobody’s business.

  As I ran, one of them buzzin’ bullies landed in Lake Parkay, rubbin’ its nasty, hairy legs together like it was prayin’ before eatin’ its meal: us.

  Herman appeared out of nowhere, and he and Lewis yanked us into the Library of Higher Learning and helped me lay the conked-out lad on a toe-hair rug. They were hunkered down inside with Chester, peekin’ out the door at the destruction.

  “We heard them, too!” Lewis said, shaking so bad I thought he’d scramble his brains. “What are they, Herman?”

  “I looked them up in my Guide to Household Insects. Musca domestica—common houseflies. Foul creatures, depositing disease and feces wherever they land.” Herman shuddered. “Will the plagues of the Re—the apple never cease?”

  “What’s ‘feces’?” Chester asked.

  “No time to jaw,” I said. “Unless you found out how to kill the vermin, Herman.”

  “What we need is a weapon called a ‘fly swatter,’” Herman said, giving the room a once-over. “No time to construct one now.”

  I skedaddled over the desk, where he’d put together a tiny version of a bigger, more elaborate boat than The Exodus. “What’s this? You hidin’ the big boat somewheres? With a long plank, we could skewer those vermin right through the liver …”

  “Please, Persephone!” Herman yelped. “Do not disassemble my new boat! I’ve been laboring over it for days, and to have it splattered with …” He shuddered again.

  “Fly guts?” I finished.”’Cause iffin we don’t get out there and stop those brutes, it’ll be our guts splatterin’.”

  Lewis looked like he was about to make like Marty and keel over. “Doncha even think about it, Lew,” I ordered. “Lookee there! The other one’s in the lake now. Boys, they’re gonna drain it dry!”

  And sure enough, that’s what those furry-legged fiends did. Then they flapped like furies, causing a twister that knocked over our rebuilt swing set and nearly flattened every hut on Butroche Boulevard. Thankfully, most of the folk had holed up in the school, even t
hough the school day was long over. Unfortunately, that’s where the buzzin’ buzzards headed next, and the people let loose with earsplittin’ screams.

  The smaller fly circled the school’s dome, like a hawk sightin’ a squeaker. The big one hurled itself at the roof, knockin’ the purty cellophane stained glass winder clean out.

  “My masterpiece!” Lewis gasped. “That took Daisy and me three days to create! Oh no! It’s sticking its head in the hole!”

  There were shrieks of “Noooooo!” and “GREAT TODD SAVE US!” risin’ up out of the building, while every male in eyesight wrung his hands and sat on his fanny. Just like our god, Todd. Wellsiree, I’d done had it.

  “You boys got thirty seconds to come up with a way to kill those flies, or I’m goin’ after ’em myself.” I picked up Herman’s precious boat model to prove I weren’t barkin’ at the knot this time. “Now where are them wood planks? Put up or shut up, fellas.”

  “Put that”—Herman pointed at the tiny boat—“on my desk and simmer down. I have an idea. In the words of—”

  “We don’t have time for no highfalutin quote now, Herman. Cain’t you hear them screamin’? Now unrip yer plan!”

  He flared his nostrils like a spooked horse, and I knew I’d made him mad. But I didn’t have time to pussyfoot around. Finally, he filled his lungs and said, “We have to work as a team …”

  Turns out Herman’s plan was to get our beefiest boys to haul the rank sweat sock Todd had left for us earlier as far from Toddlandia as we could get it. Meanwhile, the rest of us would fill the backsides of those bulgy-eyed bugs with buckshot using slingshots and rocks.

  I liked it. Except for the part where I got to play decoy. But, as usual, I was the only one with the gumption to lay my life on the line. I whistled to Tumbleweed, my second favorite cricket after Tenderfoot, who somehow managed to hear me above all the ruckus. She hopped over, and I shimmied up to the library roof and threw myself onto her back as she sailed past. “GERONIMO!” I hollered. “I’m comin’ for ya, ya overgrown, uglified insect!”