Alien in My Pocket #3 (6 page)

14

Get Up for It

Y
ou wouldn't think getting to your house by running through six backyards would be all that difficult. I've done it a thousand times before. But today, it wasn't just difficult, it was downright life-threatening.

The first few backyards weren't bad. I was chased by a nasty poodle named Luna, I stomped through a strawberry garden, and I almost broke my foot on a cement tortoise lawn decoration thingy, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

But in the Swopes' backyard, things got loopy. I was flying through some laundry that had been hung out to dry—who still did that?—and didn't see the hot tub on the other side of the drying laundry.

I've never felt strongly that hot tubs should be covered when not in use, but falling into practically boiling water with a pillowcase wrapped around your head changes your view of things.

“AAAGH!” I screamed when I emerged like the Swamp Thing from the soup-hot water. I threw off the pillowcase and fell to the ground. I grabbed my throbbing right thigh, which had smashed into the seat ledge just under the water's surface. I had received the worst charley horse in the history of legs and charley horses.

Sopping wet and steaming hot, I pushed forward like a half-cooked water buffalo, crawling over a patch of dirt to the fence. Of course, the dirt stuck to me. And in seconds I realized that the dirt was from a recently planted garden that must have been sprinkled with fertilizer, what a farmer might call manure—or what you and I would call poop.

I arrived in my backyard wild-eyed, huffing and puffing, limping, sopping wet, and smelling like a four-foot-tall cow patty.

Once my feet were firmly planted in my own backyard, I was instantly tackled from behind.

“Get down!” Olivia grunted in my ear. “They're everywhere.”

“You almost broke my back,” I wheezed through gritted teeth.

“Why are you so wet? Is that sweat?!”

“No, it's hot tub.”

“Oh my gosh, you smell like poop! Did you have an accident?”

I rolled onto my knees and caught my breath. “That's not important,” I growled.

“Says you!” she hissed, covering her mouth and nose. “Your stink is makin' me blink.”

“Forget that! We need to shut Amp up,” I growled.

“I've been calling up to your bedroom window, but that pipsqueak can't hear me.”

“Because he's set up in my closet,” I said, getting into a limp crouch. “Let's go through the back door.”

“No, the cops are downstairs. Your dad is talking to them now.”

“
What?!
They'll find Amp!”

“I know,” Olivia said, throwing her arms in the air. She looked up at the window and shook her head. She shrugged again. “Now what?”

“Let's get your grandpa's big ladder!” I said. Keeping low, I slipped through the hole in the fence that stood between our two houses.

“Nice thinking,” Olivia whispered from behind me.

We grabbed the ladder from the garage, tossed it over the fence, slid back through, and, like a trained team of firefighters, we had the ladder up to my window within thirty seconds flat. I started up first, but Olivia pushed past.

“Outta the way,” she said, scrambling past me like a circus chimp.

She dove in through my open window, which was still missing its screen from the day Amp first crash-landed into my life. I heard her fall onto my desk and send my stuff crashing to the floor.

“Hey, take it easy in there,” I hissed up the ladder. “There's homework on my desk that I really don't want to have to redo.”

Seconds later her fist appeared at the top of the ladder. “Here, catch,” she called out and released her fingers. A screaming Amp fell at me like a tiny blue bomb. I caught him as gently as I could and stuffed him in my pocket.

“Nice,” Olivia said from somewhere in my room. “You should play baseball.”

I growled but didn't have the energy to argue.

“Why is it so wet in here?” Amp croaked from my pocket.

Before I could answer, my walkie-talkie came flying out the window and soared over my head. I watched it crash-land in the grass. By the time I looked up again, Olivia was coming back down the ladder almost as fast as Amp had fallen.

I heard my dad's voice through my open window calling up the stairs for my brother. “Taylor, are you making some kind of broadcast? Get down here right now, please. The police are here!”

I didn't wait to hear Taylor's answer. Like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, I limped across the backyard and through the fence.

“You do know you smell like dead animals, right?” Amp asked from my pocket.

I didn't answer. My head was spinning, my thigh was throbbing, and the cops were everywhere.

The relief finally washed over me as we opened the side door of Olivia's garage and closed it behind us with a quiet click.

Olivia and I exchanged a look and shook our heads. This was insane, but we were safe. Amp was safe. And we had the radio—well, at least what was left of it.

My only regret? I wished I could have seen Taylor's face when the cops accused him of causing a major citywide panic.

15

Post-disaster Review

“P
erhaps I made the signal too strong,” Amp said, puzzled.

“You think?” Olivia said, rolling her eyes.

“Amp, your voice was everywhere,” I said.

We were sitting on the old couch in Olivia's garage. Amp stood in front of us on a cardboard box labeled
GIVEAWAY CLOTHES
. With the garage door closed and the light off, it was calm and peaceful in there after the insanity of just a few minutes earlier. But it smelled really bad, which was apparently my fault.

“Something went wrong,” he said, staring up at the fishing poles.

“Oh, you have an amazing grasp of the obvious,” I said. “And I heard you speaking Erdian, which is kinda gross-sounding. No offense.”

He looked at me, but didn't say anything.

“It was a rather surprising turn of events,” he said after a pause, pressing his three-fingered hands on the top of his head. “I'm not sure what went wrong.”

“Epic fail, Short Pants,” Olivia said, tapping the cardboard box with her foot.

“Don't call me that,” Amp said, like a second grader. “I don't wear pants.”

“Yeah, what's up with that, No Pants?” I said, and laughed quietly.

Amp suddenly looked like he remembered something. He turned his back to us and moved his wrist recorder to his face.

“Note to Erdian Council: Perhaps the broad-spectrum frequency repeater from the
Dingle
was too powerful. My experiment seems to have interrupted and overridden almost every frequency in use here. But the strength seems to have been focused terrestrially, on the surface, and not through a quantum connection. Total mission fail.”

“Is there any way we can get you to stop doing that?” I asked.

“Sadly, no,” he sighed, distracted.

Olivia nudged his box again with her foot. “Hey, we're all friends here, why do you have to turn your back to us? It's kinda creepy.”

Amp blinked at us. “I don't know. Your faces are distracting.”

“Distracting?” Olivia said, pretending to be offended. “Thanks for the compliment. Yours isn't exactly comforting either.”

“Listen,” Amp said, “the important thing is our secret is safe. As Zack would say, no harm, no foul.”

I sat up. “You forgot about the part where you destroyed my walkie-talkie. And I got a charley horse so bad my grandchildren will feel it. That's a big foul.”

“I could've put that walkie-talkie back together again, if Olivia hadn't flung it from your second-story window.”

Olivia shook her head at him. “Maybe I should have flung
you
. And maybe you'd like to explain to Principal Luntz what happened.”

Amp rubbed his tiny hands together. “That will be my pleasure. I can make him think he broke it.”

“No,” I said. “No more messing with minds. As soon as the street clears, we have to go back to the race. I'll think of something. Amp is right. The important thing is he didn't get discovered and dragged away.”

Olivia shrugged. “Yeah, but as far as we know the invasion is still on.”

I blew out a big breath and ran my fingers through my still-damp hair. “Let's just deal with Luntz and the walkie-talkie today. Tomorrow we'll deal with the Erdian invasion of Earth.”

“At least you have your priorities in order,” Olivia said, and made a face.

“Now, Amp,” I said, “get off of that box. I need to borrow some clothes that won't make me gag.”

16

No Jury, No Trial

“S
o you didn't leave Olivia's ladder on the side of the house?” my dad asked, watching my face like a hawk.

As you might imagine, dinner at my house that night was tense. Everyone was squinting at me with suspicion. I tried my best to stay cool and casual.

I pretended to think about it for a second. “I don't remember using a ladder.”

“But wouldn't you remember if you did?” Mom asked pointedly.

“I would think so,” I said, trying my best not to be specific. I could feel my parents' eyeballs watching me as I pushed string beans around my plate with my fork.

“Well, I know it wasn't me the cops were after,” Taylor said, quietly. “And the ladder didn't go up to my window. It went up to yours.”

I looked at each one of them. “Hey, I was at the race. You can ask Max Myers. I don't know what else to say to you guys.”

“And why are you dressed like that again?” Dad asked. “You look like a rodeo clown.”

I looked down. I was wearing a giant pair of shorts with about thirty pockets and a huge shirt with
GONE FISHING
written across the chest. I had pulled the clothes out of the cardboard box in Olivia's garage. They were way too big, but they didn't smell half as bad as mine, which were now in the garbage can in Olivia's garage.

“Oh, I borrowed these,” I said, skimming off the truth for the first time. “My other clothes got stuff all over them. The situation was pretty hectic. Some guy hacked into all the radios and stuff. Wacky.”

“And Mr. Luntz says that's how your walkie-talkie got broken,” Mom said.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, not realizing my mom had talked to Luntz. “It got knocked out of my hands and trampled on. It was crazy. You guys have no idea.”

My parents looked at each other. I wasn't sure if my story was holding together. I took no pleasure in fibbing like this, but I figured it was the only way I could keep Amp a secret.

“I told Mr. Luntz you'd do another year in Young Volunteers,” Mom announced.

“
You did what?!
”

“Ha, ha . . . ,” Taylor sang.

“It only seemed fair,” Dad said firmly, putting down his fork and fixing me with his dinner look. “Especially with what you've put your brother through with this spider business. Consider it a punishment if you want.”

“Bummer,” Taylor said gleefully.

I was too shocked to speak.

“Your father had to spray for bugs three times,” Mom said, looking at Taylor with a sad smile. “Poor baby.”

I gripped the edge of the table. “Him?
Him
poor baby? What about me? You just sent me to prison for another year! I was so close to escaping from that lousy club.”

“It only seemed fair, dear,” Mom cooed. “Principal Luntz seemed quite flustered about his walkie-talkie getting destroyed. He actually said all the parts were ripped out of it, like someone was mad at it or something.”

“That's odd,” Dad said, staring at me.

I shrugged. I wasn't going to say anything else. I really was a terrible liar. And the web I was weaving was getting a little too complex to keep track of. Plus, we had avoided disaster and that's what counted. I'd just have to do my time in the Young Volunteers with quiet determination.

At least Amp was safe, and we still had time to call off the invasion. I had to keep my eye on the prize. Focus on the big picture. Saving all of humanity from an extraterrestrial invasion was more important than working for Luntz for another twelve months. It was close, but . . .

I shuddered at the thought of it.

I jerked a bit when I heard Amp's voice inside my head. It was one of his favorite Erdian Jedi mind tricks, but I never got used to it. “Thank you, Zack. I'm sorry I made a mess of things. I'll make it up to you.”

“That's what has me worried,” I said aloud.

My family all looked up at me in surprise. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. I smiled crookedly and went back to my string beans, which I hated. I shoveled in a heaping forkful and gave my family a big, fake smile. When you stash a secret alien in your room, you've got to learn to take a few for the team.

At that moment I knew being in the Young Volunteers for another year was going to be the least of my problems.

I needed to get my roommate off this planet if it was the last thing I did.

And there was a good chance that it just might be.

 

 

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