Against All Odds (13 page)

B
oney, Itchy, Squeak, and Sam sat around the table at the clubhouse, happily eating saltine crackers with peanut butter and honey and slurping on cans of ginger ale. Sam used the overturned mop bucket as a seat because there were only three chairs. Toques and combat boots littered the clubhouse floor. Henry and the kittens were enjoying their own snack, eating from bowls of chow.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Boney asked Sam. “You were really doing a number on those clones.”

“Please don’t say ‘clones,’” Itchy sputtered through a mouthful of crackers.

Sam leaned back against the wall. “My dad’s a black belt. I’ve been studying with him since I was a child.”

“Your dad sounds so cool,” Squeak said. “I really want to meet him.”

Sam thought about this for a second. “I think you’d like him. He’s actually rather … odd … by most people’s standards.”

The boys nodded with approval over their cans of pop.

“Well, I for one am happy you have such mad skills,” Boney confessed.

“Me too,” Squeak said. “Me three,” Itchy agreed.

The four friends munched quietly for a while, processing the events of the day.

“Do you think there really are aliens living among us?” Sam finally broke the silence. She pulled the
Satellite Technology
book from her bag.

Squeak studied the pale beige cover. “It’s highly probable. Statistically speaking, it’s more likely that aliens are living among us than not.”

“We could contact the author of the book,” Boney suggested.

Itchy shook his head. “No way. I’ve had enough of aliens for the rest of my life.”

“It was pretty exciting to see the ship from the inside,” Sam said. “I think I’m going to write a paper for
Space Exploration
magazine. I thought you might like to help me.” She looked at Squeak.

Squeak giggled involuntarily, covering his mouth with his hand as he blushed. Itchy rolled his eyes. Sam continued.

“And I have another proposition—for all of you.” The Odds waited expectantly.

“I’d like to propose a joint project for the NASA Revolutionary Vehicles and Concepts Competition. I’d like you to help me reproduce the light technology we created for Mobius and Servil.”

Itchy moaned. “Don’t say their names. We don’t want to encourage them to come back.”

“I doubt they’ll be back anytime soon,” Boney said.

Squeak beamed at Sam, trying not to smile too brightly. “That’s really kind of you to include us in the competition. I’d be delighted to help.”

“Me too,” Boney said. “That’s really generous of you.”

All three turned to Itchy. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I guess it’d be okay,” he finally conceded.

“Great!” Sam cheered. “It’s going to be really exciting!”

Squeak stood up at the table and cleared his throat. “I’d like to forward my own proposal. After careful consideration of the events over the last week, I’d like to recommend Sam as a candidate for the Order of Odd Fellows.”

Sam glowed. “Really?” She looked around at the boys’ faces.

Boney nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like to second that motion.”

Itchy sprawled in his chair, scratching like a distracted monkey at his bramble-bush hair. “I have a problem with that.”

The smile slipped from Sam’s face.

Itchy sat up and stared soberly at his friends. “Sam can’t be an Odd Fellow.”

“Why not?” Squeak demanded. “She’s just as good as any of us here—better even!”

“That’s right,” Boney jumped in. “What issue could you possibly have with allowing Sam to be a member of our club?”

Itchy waved in Sam’s direction. “Look at her. Anyone can see she’s not an Odd
Fellow.”
He stood up importantly, placing both hands on top of the table. “I propose we form a new organization. I propose we establish the
Odd Squad.”

“The Odd Squad!” Boney and Squeak exclaimed, staring at each other in surprise.

“I like it,” Boney said.

“Me too,” Squeak agreed.

Itchy grinned, obviously proud of himself. “It’s all-inclusive.”

Squeak raised a finger. “I think the correct term is ‘gender-neutral.’”

“Sure, whatever.” Itchy hitched up his pants. “And there’s one more thing … We’re going to need a new method of late-night communication. I don’t think there’s a tube long enough to reach Sam’s house from here.”

All eyes turned to Squeak.

Squeak raised an eyebrow. “I have some things in mind. But nothing I care to divulge at this time.”

“Good enough!” Itchy decreed, pounding his skinny fist on the table. He lifted his ginger ale to his lips and emptied the contents in one giant, noisy swig before releasing a gigantic burp.

Boney and Squeak looked in horror at Sam.

Sam stood, held her ginger ale in the air, and proceeded to guzzle the entire drink even faster than Itchy. When the can was empty, she crumpled it with one hand and ripped the biggest, juiciest, wall-shaking burp the Odds had ever heard. The boys roared with appreciation. Boney clapped Sam on the back. Itchy gawked in admiration.

“How’d you do that?” he asked.

Sam tapped her sternum. “It’s all in the diaphragm.”

The four friends burst out laughing.

Itchy walked to the side of the clubhouse and tore the NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign from the wall. “We won’t be needing this anymore.” He made a big show
of trying to break the sign over his knee. After several failed attempts, he gave up and simply tossed the sign out of one of the clubhouse windows, wiping his hands together with satisfaction. “And one more thing …” He pointed to the mop bucket Sam was using as a seat. “We’re going to need another chair.”

“Done!” Boney said.

Itchy walked to the cooler and rustled a couple more cans of ginger ale from the ice, tossing one to Sam. She caught it in one hand and cracked it open; the pop fizzed with an effervescent hiss.

“To the Odd Squad!” Itchy boomed, raising his ginger ale.

“To the Odd Squad!” The friends toasted, clinking their cans of pop together in the air.

Henry and the kittens looked up with curiosity from their bowls. Squeak looked at his watch and pointed at Boney.

“Your aunt’s going to call you in three … two … one …”

“Boneeey!”

THE END

“It’s Beverly Cleary meets Scooby-Doo.”

­­Q
UILL
Q
UIRE

“Ghent’s descriptions are beautifully evocative … Young readers will be able to relate to the struggle against bullies and the desire to ‘get even.’”

­­R
ESOURCE
L
INKS

“An addictive read.”

­­C
M
M
AGAZINE

Against All Odds
Copyright © 2011 by Natale Ghent.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Epub Edition © APRIL 2011 ISBN: 978-1-443-40627-7

Published by Harper
Trophy
Canada™, an imprint
of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

Harper
Trophy
Canada™ is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers

FIRST EDITION

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
2 Bloor Street East, 20th Floor
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
M4W 1A8

www.harpercollins.ca

ISBN 978-1-443-40625-3

HC 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au

Canada
HarperCollins Canada
2 Bloor Street East - 20th Floor
Toronto, ON, M4W 1A8, Canada
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca

New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1 Auckland,
New Zealand
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.nz

United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.uk

United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com