New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers)
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New Kid Catastrophes
Copyright © 2011 by Bill Myers. All rights reserved.
Cover illustration copyright © 2010 by Peter Bollinger. All rights reserved.
Designed by Stephen Vosloo
Edited by Sarah Mason
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920,
www.alivecommunications.com
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Holy Bible
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This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Myers, Bill, date.
New kid catastrophes / Bill Myers.
p. cm. — (TJ and the time stumblers ; bk. 1)
Summary: After she accidentally makes an enemy of superstar Hesper Breakahart on her first day at Malibu Junior High, thirteen-year-old TJ’s troubles multiply when two twenty-third century students, who have traveled back in time to observe her for a history project, decide to help her.
ISBN 978-1-4143-3453-0 (sc)
[1. Junior high schools—Fiction. 2. Schools—Fiction. 3. Friendship—Fiction. 4. Time travel—Fiction. 5. Malibu (Calif.)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.M98234New 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010047368
Build: 2013-01-18 11:26:29
Contents
CHAPTER TWO: New Friends (and Enemies)
CHAPTER FOUR: Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink
CHAPTER FIVE: Outloopish to the Max
CHAPTER SIX: Another Day, Another Catastrophe
CHAPTER SEVEN: The Plot Sickens
CHAPTER NINE: T Minus One Day and Counting . . .
CHAPTER TEN: Show andTellYELL!
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Worst of all Worsts
For Bruce Grimm . . .
whose humor I’ve never forgotten
Prologue
“This is outloopish, dude!” Herby shouted. “We’re in the wrong century!”
“Actually,” Tuna argued, “according to my expert calculations, we have landed precisely where we intended in Malibu, California, during the 21st century.”
Herby looked out the window of their tiny time-travel pod. “Are you sure?”
“I am sure.”
“Then you might want to mention that to the giant Tyrannosaurus rex.”
“What giant Tyrannosaurus rex?”
“The one that’s about to eat us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tuna sighed. “There’s no Tyrannosaurus—”
Normally he would have finished his sentence, but it’s hard finishing sentences when you’re drowned out by a very loud and very bloodcurdling
which, of course, is the sound all hungry Tyrannosaurus rexes make just before they start eating. (It’s kinda like saying the blessing, but without all the head bowing, talking to God, and amen stuff.)
Herby looked at Tuna.
Tuna looked at Herby.
Then both boys did what they do best. They
screamed for their lives.
“Hit reverse!” Herby yelled. “Get us out of here!”
Herby didn’t have to ask twice (actually he didn’t have to ask once) because Tuna was already resetting the time pod’s coordinates. Stomping on the gas, he
them through time to the 21st century, where they originally wanted to go.
That was the good news.
Unfortunately there was a little bad news, and it sounded exactly like
“What’s that?” Herby asked.
“The sound all time-travel pods make when they run out of fuel.”
“Out of fuel?!” Herby cried.
“Relax,” Tuna said, glancing out his window. “As you can clearly see, we’ve safely arrived at the proper coordinates.”
Herby opened his window to get a better view. It was true—Malibu beach was just 100 feet below them and 350 feet to the right. “Whew,” he sighed, “we could have been majorly zworked.”
“Yes, we could have,” Tuna agreed.
“So just steer us over to the beach and let’s land this thing.”
“I would love to, however . . .”
“However what?”
“There is still that unfortunate problem of
running out of fuel.”
“Which means?”
“Which means we are about to drop into the Pacific Ocean like a rock.”
Herby turned to Tuna and swallowed. “When?”
“If my calculations are correct, I’d say right about
Fortunately, an automatic life raft inflated around the time pod. So other than the 847 gallons of seawater pouring in through Herby’s open window, they were perfectly safe. Now it was just a matter of paddling the pod to shore, turning on their cloaking device so no one would see them, and beginning their assignment.
There was, however, one other sound they had not counted on.
