Going Wild (14 page)

T
he three tried to guess what the other two abilities could be by studying the wedges. One of the drawings had a tiny circle in the middle with four lines going out from it.

“Clearly that's a bow tie,” said Maria, “so you must have penguin abilities.”

Mac wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“Get it? You wear a bow tie with a tuxedo.”

“Yeah,” said Charlie, nodding, a grin spreading over her face. “Tuxedo. Looks like a penguin suit. I get it. So my special ability is . . . what? Holding an egg on my feet for like two months?”

“What are you talking about?” said Mac.

“
March of the Penguins
—haven't you ever seen it?” asked Charlie. “My dad is a freak for that movie.” She shook her head in mock disgust. “Biologists.”

“Parents are weird,” said Mac. “My dad cries every time we watch
Toy Story 3
. But back to the symbol,” he said, tapping the device, “I think it obviously represents a sneeze. Try sneezing, Charlie. Everybody stand back.”

“Ha-ha,” said Charlie. “Very funny. But it's not a sneeze. It's
an old TV antenna. My dad has one stashed away in the garage just in case the world ends and cable goes out. With our luck, we'd probably only be able to get PBS.”

“Great,” Maria groaned. “So your fourth ability is broadcasting baby TV shows on public television.”

“Easy, now,” muttered Mac. “PBS isn't just for babies. And there's nothing wrong with the occasional
Odd Squad
when you're killing time.” He sniffed. “I'm just saying.”

Maria stared at him. “My little stepbrothers watch that. Since when do
you
watch
Odd Squad
?”

Mac looked defensive. “I watch it
with
them when I'm waiting for you to come home from practice. It's kind of like I'm babysitting. Your parents should pay me, actually.”

“You know,” said Maria, “You could come to practice once, and then you'd know when I'm done.”

“Forget that,” said Mac. “No Wi-Fi on the field. And your mom counts on me to try her after-school snacks to make sure they taste good.”

“You don't really fall for that, do you?” asked Maria, incredulous.

“Hey,” said Mac, “this dude does what it takes to live the good life. If that means I have to suffer watching
Odd Squad
with free Wi-Fi and a cookie in hand while I wait for you, then that's the price I have to pay.”

Charlie laughed and shook her head, watching them. “Excuse
me, people, but what about this last drawing?”

Mac and Maria turned back to look at the bracelet. The fifth wedge had several vine-type lines to it with absolutely no distinct detail to focus on. It was just an oval-shaped blob with some lines sticking out.

Everyone was silent for a long moment.

“It's a . . . campfire?” ventured Maria.

“Definitely Bigfoot,” said Mac.

“I was thinking mud puddle and sticks,” said Charlie. She scratched her head and looked at her friends.

They both shook their heads. With a growing sense of dread, Charlie began to wonder what would have to happen for this latest mystery to be solved.

W
henever Charlie was alone over the following week, she tried triggering her abilities. She knew now that the powers would only work when necessary, like when she was on the defensive or in danger. But how did the bracelet know? Was it her heart rate and pulse that activated it? Or her sense of fear? Just imagining danger wasn't enough. But she wondered if there were other ways she could trick the bracelet into believing she was in danger. So she decided to do a few experiments of her own.

In first period she purposely waited for the bell to ring before running to her desk, hoping to trigger speed like she'd done early on. But by now Charlie knew her teacher was usually late coming into class, so she wasn't actually worried about getting in trouble. It didn't work.

She tried to get it to turn on during soccer practice that week, but the team only worked on drills and ran short plays. They didn't split into teams to scrimmage, so without an opponent hunting her down, that didn't work either.

After school on Friday she ran all the way home, thinking that maybe if she elevated her heart rate for a long enough time, it
might indicate to the bracelet that she needed help. When she got home, she went into the garage and tried lifting the extra freezer they kept there, but she couldn't even move it an inch.

“There has to be a way,” she texted Maria. “Parents both working until late, brother at a sleepover, so I'm home alone tonight. Gonna try the horror-movie thing.”

“I've got a great one!” replied Maria. “Have you seen
Cringe 3
yet?”

“OMG no way too scary.”

“Then it's perfect. I'll bring it over!”

Charlie's heart was already racing in anticipation. “Yikes—OK. Is Mac coming?”

“Nah, I'll send him home. He'll just make fun of us if we scream. See you in 15!”

“OK!”

Maria arrived with the movie and a copy of the first Ms. Marvel comic. “As promised,” she said. “I thought you'd like this one first.”

“Thanks!” Charlie put the comic on the dining table. She showed Maria to the living room to get the movie going, then ran through the house to turn out all the lights for an ultrascary experience. She and Maria settled on the living-room couch in the dark to watch
Cringe 3
. They turned up the volume. And they screamed their heads off. By the time the movie was over, Charlie's heart was
racing. Her palms were sweating. And she was scared to death.

“Come on,” Maria said in a low voice. “Let's sneak through the house with all the lights off. Maybe some murderous ghosts will come out like in the movie.”

Charlie shuddered. She was still getting used to this house and the quirky sounds it made at night. In daylight she would have scoffed at the idea of creepy killer ghosts in her house, but after watching the movie and being here in the dark without her parents at home . . . well, of course she
knew
there weren't supernatural things happening, but . . . what if she was wrong? “Okay,” she whispered, her voice faltering.

Maria crawled through the dark living room, with Charlie sticking close behind. They went into the dining room and on to the kitchen, inching along quietly. Charlie's heart pounded. She heard a rustling sound and stopped. “Do you hear something?” she whispered.

Maria didn't answer.

Charlie's pulse pounded in her ears. “Maria?” she whispered more harshly this time. “Where are you?” She began feeling around for her friend, who had been right in front of her a minute ago. “Come on, don't tease me.”

Maria still didn't answer.

Charlie began to panic. She scrambled to her feet and tried to remember which wall the light switches were on. She ran into the garbage can, knocking it over and scaring herself even more.
“Maria!” she shouted. “This isn't funny!”

Suddenly something grabbed Charlie's leg. Charlie let out a bloodcurdling scream. Jessie came bounding down the stairs from Andy's room to see what was going on, knocking into Charlie and spinning her around in the dark.

Completely disoriented, Charlie could think of nothing but escape. She ran, stumbling over the garbage can again and slamming her shoulder into a wall before finally finding her way to the front door. She flung it open and took off out into the neighborhood with her excited dog chasing after her.

Maria came out of hiding and followed her to the yard. “Charlie, come back!” she shouted, hands gripping her hair and a worried look on her face. But as she watched Charlie move under the streetlamps, her worried look faded and turned to confusion. Charlie didn't seem to be running any faster than normal—certainly not as fast as when they'd tested her. Jessie was keeping up with her just fine.

A few minutes later Charlie and Jessie returned, breathing hard but unharmed. “Why didn't you answer me?” accused Charlie.

Maria's voice was filled with remorse. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to scare you so the bracelet would turn on like before. I didn't think you'd freak out like that.”

Charlie's eyes clouded, but now that Maria was visible and penitent, she began to feel a little silly. “I told you
Cringe 3
would be too scary,” she mumbled. “Anyway, it didn't work.”

“Nope,” said Maria glumly. “So now I'm extrasorry I scared you.”

“It's okay,” said Charlie, giving Maria a quick side hug as they walked to the front door. “It's weird, though. Once I could think straight, I realized the bracelet was warm. So I tried to run faster, but it didn't work. I don't understand it. Between you and Jessie scaring me, I seriously thought I was about to die. Not to mention that horrible trash can disaster,” she added with an embarrassed laugh.

“I don't get it,” Maria said, going inside and turning on a light. “You weren't nearly that scared when you managed to clock seventy miles an hour the other day.”

Charlie whistled sharply to Jessie, and then followed the dog into the house “What's even weirder is that my wrist is actually still warm,” she said, batting at the front door to close it. But it was stuck to the wall and wouldn't budge. “What the—?” Charlie gave it a little tug. It wiggled, but she couldn't get it to swing shut. She peered behind it, and to her dismay she saw that the door handle was embedded in the wall—it had broken through the drywall. Charlie's eyes widened, and she looked down. The little stopper on the floor was decimated.

“Oh no!” Charlie exclaimed. “Look, Maria.”

Maria came to the door. “Whoa,” she said. “How'd you do that? Should we check the device? Maybe something will show up on it.”

Charlie held down the two buttons, and the pie chart graph appeared. The once gray elephant graphic was lit up in bright silver, black, and red.

“Wow,” said Maria. “Full color—does that mean your strength ability is working?”

“Looks that way,” said Charlie, scratching her head. “But why did strength turn on instead of speed? Isn't the natural instinct of an animal to run when it's scared?” She pulled out her phone and took a photo of the damage, then texted it to Mac so he could see what had happened, along with a selfie of her and Maria with looks of mock horror on their faces.

“Wow,” he texted back, with a selfie of himself looking bored. Charlie showed Maria.

“Hmm,” she said, frowning a bit at his reaction.

Charlie examined the wall, growing serious. “What am I going to do about this hole?” She tugged the door gently as pieces of drywall broke off and dropped to the floor. “Yikes.”

With another tug the handle came loose, and she closed the door. “I'm not sure what to tell my dad when he gets home,” said Charlie. She and Maria went to the kitchen to clean up the garbage so she wouldn't have even more to explain, and then checked the bedrooms to make sure neither of the cats had escaped during the confusion with the front door standing open. She found them both curled on Andy's bed, having slept through all the excitement. Apparently their flight responses hadn't been triggered either.

The girls returned to the front door, but before they could come up with a plan to magically fix the gaping hole in the wall, they heard the garage door open.

“That's my dad, I bet,” said Charlie, pulling her sweatshirt sleeve down over the bracelet. “Maybe you should go.”

“I'll stay if you want,” said Maria. “I can help take the blame. It's partly my fault—I scared you.”

“It's okay. Unless . . . do you maybe want to stay overnight? I mean, I know you didn't bring your stuff. . . .”

“I'd love to!” Maria said. She pulled out her phone to text her mom.

“Awesome,” said Charlie as her father walked into the house.

“Hey, Peanut,” he called out in a weary voice. “You're still awake?”

“Hi, Dad,” said Charlie, going to greet him and pulling Maria along with her. “This is my friend Maria.”

Dr. Wilde's tired eyes lit up, and he smiled warmly. “Hi, Maria,” he said. “I'm glad you could keep Charlie company tonight.”

“Hi, Mr. Wilde,” Maria said with a little wave. Then she read his ID, which was clipped and hanging unevenly on his jacket pocket. “Wait . . . you're a doctor too?” She turned to Charlie. “So both your parents are doctors? Cool!”

“Yeah, technically he's also Dr. Wilde,” Charlie explained. “But my mom's the
real
kind.” She flashed her dad a playful grin, as if they'd made that joke before. “Confusing, I know.”

“That's for sure,” said Charlie's dad. “I'm the doctor you definitely don't want to call when you almost break your leg. You're fine just calling me Mr. Wilde. Or Dr. Wilde Two. Or Mr. Dr. Wilde. Or Charles. Or . . .” He stopped. “I think that's all I've got. Take your pick.”

“Mr. Dr. Wilde is funny,” said Maria, grinning.

Charlie reached out and took her father's briefcase and helped him out of his jacket, suddenly growing nervous now that she had to explain the hole in the wall. “How was class? Can I get you some ice cream or anything?” she asked a little too sweetly.

“Class was— Hold on. Ice cream?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Why? What happened?”

Charlie bit her lip as she hung the jacket in the closet. “Um, I kind of have to show you something,” she said guiltily.

Dr. Wilde gave her a guarded look. “All right,” he said. He glanced at Maria, who hung back, eyes wide.

Charlie took his hand and pulled him to the front door, pointing at the wall.

“I'm really sorry, Dad,” said Charlie earnestly. “We were just goofing around in the dark and scaring each other, and I opened the door too hard and . . . this happened. I'll fix it if you show me how.”

Dr. Wilde looked at the damage, then dropped to one knee and picked up the doorstop spring. He squished what was left of it
between his fingers. It crumbled. He ran his hand over the hole in the drywall, wiping away the tiny loose bits, and then he looked at Charlie with a tired smile. “Well, I suppose the new house couldn't stay perfect forever,” he said, “but I'd hoped it might make it longer than a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” said Charlie, cringing. “I'm sorry.”

He reached out to ruffle her hair, but his voice was strained. “Just take it easy next time, please.”

“It's my fault,” Maria blurted out. “I scared her.”

Dr. Wilde straightened up. “It was an accident. And clearly the doorstopper was defective; otherwise it would have stopped the handle from hitting the wall. So that's no one's fault,” he said. He looked at Charlie. “We'll fix it some weekend once things settle down at the college, okay, kiddo?”

“Yeah,” said Charlie. “Thanks, Dad.” She hesitated as he walked toward the kitchen. “Um, can Maria stay overnight?”

He stopped and looked back. “Did you ask Mom? It's fine with me.”

“I haven't seen Mom since Tuesday,” Charlie said with a tinge of accusation.

“You forgot how to text?” he asked sharply as he continued into the dining room. “She has a cell phone.”

“Okay, I'll ask her,” Charlie said, trailing after him. “Sorry. Anyway, it's fine with you, right?”

“Of course,” he said, picking up his briefcase from the table
where Charlie had placed it. He headed in the direction of his study. “Glad to have you, Maria.”

“Thanks, Mr. Dr.,” Maria said meekly.

That drew a smile from Charlie's dad.

The two scampered to Charlie's bedroom and closed the door—gently.