Candy Shop War (32 page)

Nate turned down Clover Lane, crossed a few empty streets, and soon found himself on Limerick Court, still running at top speed. It was amazing how much ground you could cover with a tireless sprint!

The sirens were behind him now, their cries waning as they arrived at their destination. Ahead the street was still and dark, no lights in the windows, no cars on the road. Then a light came on as the door of a parked sedan opened down the street, not far from Mr. Stott’s house. Nate abandoned the sidewalk and spied on the car from behind a bush.

To his dismay, the big round guy from the candy shop got out. He appeared to converse with somebody before he ducked out of sight. Nate covered his mouth. They were planning to ambush him when he brought the map to Mr. Stott. He had almost sprinted into a trap.

Taking out his cell phone, Nate dialed Mr. Stott. The old magician picked up after a few rings. “Hello?”

“Mr. Stott?” Nate whispered. “Can you hear me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Mrs. White has her goons guarding your house. I think they’re trying to ambush me.”

“Are you in immediate danger?”

“No.”

“You have the map?” Mr. Stott asked.

“It was rough, but yes, I think so. I have the
Stargazer.
”

“Excellent! Nate, just go home. You can bring me the ship in the morning.”

“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Nate hung up. Staying low, running across front yards instead of on the sidewalk, he hurried away from Mr. Stott’s. It made Nate glad to think of the big round guy waiting disappointedly for him to show up.

Nate sprinted along side streets until he reached Main. After waiting for a car to pass, he dashed across and cut through Summer’s neighborhood. He ran up to Mayflower to avoid the creek, and then rushed along the jogging path toward Monroe Circle, senses alert.

When he reached the bottom of Monroe, Nate saw a gray horse walking down the middle of the street. The sight was so unusual that he retreated into the undergrowth by the creek and fell flat. He watched the horse wander onto the jogging path and clomp away toward Mayflower.

Once the horse was out of sight, Nate raced up the street to his house, flung open the door, and locked it behind him. He rushed around the ground floor, making sure all the windows and doors were locked, then did the same upstairs. He went to his bathroom, where the light remained on, but Trevor was not in the mirror. He flashed the light on and off and waited a moment, but his friend did not appear.

Nate went to his room and set the mangled ship in his closet. The
Stargazer
was a mess, but it was mostly in one piece. Even the broken masts were held to the boat by tangles of netting and string.

Nate took out his cell phone and called Summer. She answered on the second ring. “I’m glad you called,” she said. “Did you deliver it?”

“No, the big guy from the candy shop was waiting to ambush me. It seemed like he had others with him. So I came home. I figured my mom could swing me by there on the way to school. Are you and Pidge okay?”

“We rode home on a talking horse,” Summer said.

“I think I saw it!” Nate said. “Was it gray?”

“That’s the one,” Summer said. “He was really friendly.”

“Nice use of the Brain Feed.”

“We left our bikes behind, which might come back to bite us, but honestly, I’m just relieved we made it. That was scary.”

“I know, what was with the monster candy? It was like Melting Pot Mixers on steroids!”

“It was freaky,” Summer said. “Are you going to school tomorrow?”

“For sure,” Nate said. “With all the people around, school is probably the safest place for us right now.”

“I don’t want to see Denny there,” Summer said.

“Neither do I,” Nate agreed. “You think he’s okay?”

“I’m sure. Eric and Kyle would have been after us faster if they hadn’t been helping him get unstuck.”

“Maybe we can hide out during lunch,” Nate said.

“Bring your candy just in case.”

“Always. Hey, Summer, you were amazing tonight. You saved the day with that Sun Stone.”

“What are friends for?” She sounded very pleased. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

He hung up.

His digital clock said it was not quite two-thirty. The whole escapade had taken place in less than ninety minutes. Nate spit his gum into the wastebasket by his bookcase and turned off the lights. He leaned back on his bed, told himself he would undress after he rested his eyes for a moment, and faded off to sleep.

*****

Nate snapped awake, certain he had heard glass breaking. His room was dark; the clock read 3:46 a.m. He lay still, straining his ears, hearing only silence. Had it been a dream? He had smashed through a lot of glass earlier in the night—maybe his subconscious had been reliving the adventure.

He could not shake the conviction that the sound had been real, and decided he had better check it out. He reached over, clicked on his reading light, and saw a bubble floating over his bed. Chills raced down his back. It was the size of a baseball, like the bubble they had seen in the alley by the museum, like the bubble Pigeon had described hovering near the Nest.

Transfixed, he stared at the little sphere, uncertain exactly what it meant, knowing it was a bad sign. The floor in the hallway creaked. Terrified, Nate forced himself to move, plunging a hand into his pocket. The bubble streaked out the door. Nate got up, putting an Ironhide in his mouth, watching the doorway, wondering if he should call his parents.

The wrinkled wooden Indian from the candy shop walked into his room, clutching a tomahawk.

Nate screamed as he had never screamed before, an involuntary, desperate wail. The Indian reacted by running at him and hurling him onto his bed. The Indian sprang to the closet, tore open the door, crouched, and seized the
Stargazer.

“No!” Nate yelled, diving off his bed, wrapping his arms around the painted buckskin jacket. The Indian fell against the wall, a couple of headdress feathers snapping off. Nate reached for the ship, and the Indian elbowed him in the face. The blow knocked him back, but it didn’t hurt, so he hugged the Indian’s legs as the chief tried to rise, and wrenched him to the ground.

The fallen Indian kicked Nate viciously, shoving him backwards, and scrambled across the floor toward the door. Unafraid to use his indestructible body as a projectile, Nate sprang onto his bed and leapt off, hitting the Indian with a flying tackle as he was rising.

The Indian released the
Stargazer,
picked up Nate, and rammed him into the bookcase, upsetting shelves and sending books and trophies cascading to the floor. Again Nate felt no pain and kept struggling, so the Indian clamped him in a headlock. The chokehold had no effect, and Nate managed to pick up the heavy Indian and thrust his head through the bedroom window. The Indian grabbed the windowsill and pushed off, falling to the floor beside Nate.

“Everything okay, champ?” Nate’s dad asked, standing in the doorway in his undershirt and boxers.

“A wooden Indian is trying to kill me!” Nate hollered.

“It’s just a dream, try to get some shut-eye.”

No longer holding back, the Indian punched Nate in the face. The blow did not hurt, but it had enough force behind it to send him reeling. Nate landed on his hands and knees.

The Indian ran toward the door, grabbed the ship, and knocked over Nate’s dad on the way out. Refusing to admit defeat, Nate gave chase.

“You guys need to settle down,” his dad said as Nate ran by. “Your mom and I are trying to sleep.”

The Indian was quick, but Nate had his chance on the stairs, diving from the top step and colliding with the wooden chief halfway down. They tumbled together, the
Stargazer
crunching beneath them, and landed in a tangle at the end of the staircase.

The Indian again abandoned the
Stargazer
to concentrate on Nate. The chief picked him up, carried him across the room, and flung him through the sliding glass door into the backyard. Nate got up and rushed back inside, chasing the Indian to the front door. When the Indian reached the door, the ship under one arm, Nate lunged, but the Indian turned and chopped him in the side of the head with the tomahawk.

As always, Nate felt no pain, but the fierce impact flung him brutally onto the living room carpeting. The Indian raced out the door. Nate got up and pursued him out onto the street, but soon found that in the open, the Indian ran considerably faster than he did. He gave up and watched the Indian dash to the bottom of the street and turn down the jogging path toward the candy shop.

Nate stared impotently at the empty street. He tried to devise a plan to fix things, but there was nothing he could do. The ship was gone.

He trudged back into his house, closing the front door. Cool air wafted in through the glassless sliding door. He pulled the curtain shut in front of it. A window in the family room was broken as well, presumably where the Indian had entered.

Nate climbed the stairs. He peeked into his parents’ room.

“No more friends over on school nights,” his dad stated in a harsh whisper.

“Okay,” Nate said.

He returned to his room. Nate wanted to cry, but no tears would come. He had no idea what he would tell Summer and Pigeon, what he would tell Mr. Stott, what he would tell Trevor. He had failed everyone. Now Mrs. White had the advantage. If she found the treasure first, they were all doomed.

Nate plopped down on his bed, taking in the disaster his room had become. He spit out the Ironhide.

The
Stargazer
was gone.

Chapter Sixteen

The Substitute

The train of cars rolled forward a little at a time. Nate clutched the cell phone Mr. Stott had given him. The power was off in order to avoid receiving a call. His mom pulled forward, finally getting her turn alongside the curb at the front of Mt. Diablo Elementary.

“Here we are,” she said. “Remember, come straight home after school.”

“I will,” Nate said.

He opened the door and got out, shouldering his backpack. His parents had concluded that the house was trashed because Nate had had friends over late. They had grounded him for a week. No television, no friends. In a way, he was glad they had at least noticed something, even if they had it all wrong.

Caught up in the flow of kids flooding into the school, Nate debated skipping his class. He wanted to hitchhike to San Francisco and stow away on a cargo ship bound for the Southern Hemisphere. Or maybe hop a train to a distant city and check himself into an orphanage. Or even just roam off into the wilderness, build a shack, and start a new life as a mysterious hermit. Anything to avoid admitting that the
Stargazer
had been stolen by Mrs. White.

In rebellion against his grandiose schemes, Nate’s treacherous feet carried him toward his classroom. He looked at the cell phone. Should he call Mr. Stott? The sooner he confessed, the sooner they could formulate new plans. He put the phone away. He would tell Summer and Pigeon first; then they could all go tell Mr. Stott in person after school.

Nate entered Miss Doulin’s classroom. He slouched into his seat, wondering how he was supposed to sit through another unprepared lesson, considering all the stress he was under. Only then did he notice that Miss Doulin was not sitting at the desk at the front of the class.

In her place sat a broad-shouldered man in an overcoat wearing a brown fedora with a black band. He had a strong jaw and heavy eyebrows. Nate instantly recognized him as the man who had chased him on the night they had stolen the pocket watch from the museum. Fear flooded through him. Somehow the man had tracked them down! Nate glanced over at Summer and Pigeon, already in their seats and looking as uncomfortable as he felt.

The bell rang.

Using a cane, the man stood up and limped to the chalkboard. Taking a piece of chalk from the tray, he wrote MR. DART in large capital letters before turning to regard the class.

“I’m Mr. Dart,” he said in a confident voice. “Today I’ll be standing in for Miss Doulin, who I am told was not feeling well. As long as you keep it to a low roar, I’ll basically leave you alone to read or study or do whatever floats your boat. But first I want to share a few thoughts on an important subject.”