“Nope. Looks like they're still setting up. I think he comes out when they're all ready to shoot.”
The car behind us honked. We were stopped in the middle of the street! And since you're not allowed to park cars in front of Old Town, we drove around the corner to the parking lot. A whole section of it was blocked off for semi-trucks and moving vans and trailers and limos.
The place was packed!
“What's all that?” I asked.
“Movie equipment, I suppose. And trailers for the stars, maybe.” He smiled at me. “I'm just guessing, Nolan. This is a first for me, too.”
“Wow” I hung my head out the window and looked ahead as Dad got closer. “Do you think The Gecko's in one of those trailers?”
“Maybe so. But I was told to go to the hotel, so that's what we're going to do.”
After Dad parked the car, we walked into Old Town and cut across the park. We watched peo-ple setting up equipment outside the Historian for a few minutes, and then Dad said, “We'd better get going, Nolan. I don't want to be late.”
I'd never been inside the Historian, but I had gawked through the window plenty of times. They have a giant stuffed grizzly bear inside. It's fierce! It has beady eyes. Huge yellow teeth. Even bigger claws! And it's standing on its hind legs, roaring.
Now that I think about it, it looks an awful lot like Bubba.
When we went inside the hotel, I discovered that the grizzly bear had company. There's a stuffed buffalo, an elk, a deer, a boar, and a bighorn sheep! There are also wagon wheels and gold-mining pans and blacksmithing tools. And the walls are covered with maps. Cool X-Marks-the-Spot kind of maps!
We crossed through the lobby, going under ceiling lights that were made out of antlers. Off to one side, there were swinging saloon doors, and to the right was a big, swooping staircase.
We walked up to a long wooden counter, and a man on the other side said, “May I help you?”
“Yes,” my dad said. “I'm Steven Byrd. I have an appointment to see Chase Morton.”
“Very good,” the man said, and picked up a phone.
When he hung up, he pointed behind us and said, “If you'll wait in the green room, someone will be right down.”
The green room was not green, it was tan. But it had lots of food on long tables that were arranged in the shape of an L. The tablecloths were bright white and went clear to the floor, and on top were big black vases with pine branches and pinecones sticking out.
“Why did he call it a green room, Dad?”
“That's just what they call a hospitality room, champ. I'm not sure why.”
Dad spotted a big steel coffee urn.
I spotted a big stack of cookies.
Peanut butter!
Yum!
After a little while, a lady with red hair came in and said, “Steven Byrd?”
Dad said, “That's me.”
The lady put her hand out to Dad and said, “I'm Henna Blockwell. We spoke on the phone?”
Dad shook her hand and smiled. “A pleasure to meet you. This is my son, Nolan.”
“Well, hello, Nolan,” she said. “I hear you're a fan of the show.”
I gulped.
I nodded.
My tongue tried to dive down my throat.
She chuckled, then said, “Well, come on up. Chase wants to conduct the interview in his suite.”
We rode the elevator up. I watched the floor numbers light as we were boosted higher and higher: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, ding. Top floor!
The doors clanged back and we followed Henna Blockwell down the hall. We turned a corner and went down another hall. And another! The doors started having numbers and names.
Room 724 was named Wagon Wheel.
Room 727 was Gold Nugget.
Room 730 was Prospector's Dream.
And the very last door, where we stopped— Room 733—was Eureka!
The Henna lady did a secret knock at the door. She did it soft. She did it quick! But I recognized it as an easy mathematical progression—3-2-1.
I knew The Gecko's secret knock!
Then we heard a voice call, “Come in!”
It was time to meet The Gecko!
CHAPTER 4
Meeting The Gecko
It was dark in The Gecko's room.
And cold!
The Henna lady said, “Chase, this is Mr. Byrd, the reporter from the Cedar Valley Gazette. And this is his son, Nolan. Nolan's the boy who's having a birthday today, remember?”
“Cool,” The Gecko said, but he didn't even look up. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his thumbs attacking the buttons of a PlayStation controller.
I checked him out for a minute. He looked just like he does on TV!
Then I checked out the television that was sitting on a big wooden cabinet in front of him.
“Tekken 3?” I asked. “I love that game! It may be old, but it's still my favorite!”
“You have it at home?” He still didn't take his eyes off the TV. He was too busy whaling on his opponent with flying kicks.
“Nah. My parents won't get me a PlayStation.”
He took a split second to look at me. “That's cold!”
I didn't want to embarrass my dad, so I said, “It's all right.” I watched him battle and said, “Yoshi-mitsu is my favorite character, too.”
“Gunjack's better on blocking. And the way True Ogre breathes fire is way cool—”
“But Yoshimitsu's got the deathcopter trick! And he can do backflips. I love backflips.”
“Backflips?” he asked. “How do you make him do backflips?”
I almost said, You don't know how to do backflips? but I caught myself in the nick of time. Instead, I said, “You tap the Back button three times, really fast.”
He tried it, but it didn't work. “How?” he asked, and handed over the controller.
“Like this, see?” I said, and tapped the button until Yoshimitsu started doing backflips.
“Wow!”
I handed the controller back and The Gecko sent Yoshimitsu backflipping like crazy. “Now try the deathcopter trick!” I told him. “Before Gunjack gets you!”
“Hoo-hoo-hoo!” he laughed, making Yoshi-mitsu's sword spin like a helicopter blade. He flew Yoshimitsu out of danger and whaled on Gunjack on his way down.
“I won!” he cried. “That was way cool!”
Henna Blockwell cleared her throat and said, “Chase? You're scheduled to give Mr. Byrd an interview. And we do have to get it done before they call for you.”
“Aw, Henna,” he said. Then he jumped up and got a second controller from behind the TV. “Let me play the kid one game, okay?” He grinned at me and said, “It is his birthday, right?”
Henna looked at him, then me, then Dad.
Dad smiled and said, “I don't mind. And it would absolutely make Nolan's day.”
She sighed and said, “One game, Chase. One. You're on a pretty tight schedule today.”
In all my wildest dreams, I never could have pictured it.
Me sitting next to The Gecko.
Battling him in Tekken 3.
Beating him in Tekken 3!
This was the best birthday ever!
Before the second battle, I showed him some tricks. He still didn't beat me. So on the third game I held back.
I didn't want him to be mad at me!
After the third game, Henna turned off the TV and said, “Come on, boys. Time to get to work.”
“You're good!” The Gecko said to me. “And you don't even have a PlayStation?”
I shrugged. “Dad and Mom take me to Mother Lode's Pizza sometimes. They've got a Tekken 3 game there.”
“Still.” He faced Dad and said, “Cool kid you've got here.”
Cool? The Gecko thought I was cool?
Wow.
“Thanks,” my dad said. And boy, was he smiling!
“So, fire away,” The Gecko said. “What do you want to know?”
Henna glanced at her watch and said so
ftly, “I have to check on a few things. I'll be back in twenty minutes, Chase.”
When she was gone, Dad opened his notebook and said, “So. What's your impression of Cedar Valley so far?”
The Gecko shrugged. “Pretty cool, I guess. Small.”
Dad nodded.
“Cool trees. Cool town square.” He grinned at me. “Cool kids.” He moved over to a couch and kind of sprawled out. “Truth is, I've mostly just been learning my lines. I hate going out.”
“Why's that?” Dad asked.
“'Cause every time I go out, some jerk sticks a camera in my face. Next thing you know, I'm on the pages of the Star Gazer or Idol Watch with some insane story about how I'm a criminal, or an idiot, or an alien or something.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, really. Like, one time they caught me stretching and yawning at a restaurant, and the next thing I know they've got me in the paper with the headline ‘Teen Heartthrob Goes Berserk. ’ The story said I thrashed around, destroying things in the restaurant.”
“No way!”
He laughed. “Oh, way. One time it was ‘Gecko Tortures Turtles! ’ I was just, you know, animating this little kid's turtle for him, but they made it look like I was tearing the turtle's arms off. The next day all these animal rights activists showed up at our location with picket signs. I told them I hadn't tortured any turtles, but they just got more pictures of me and made up more lies. One time they even had my head attached to a big sumo body with some total-lie story about how I was killing myself with candy bars.”
“Wow,” I said. “I can't believe they get away with that.”
“It's crazy,” he said. “There's one guy in particular that's, like, obsessed with following me around.”
“A reporter?” Dad asked.
“Yeah. Some jerk named Joel Bowl.”
“Joel Bowl?” Dad said. “That can't possibly be his real name.”
“It is, believe it or not. But everyone calls him Joel the Mole, or just the Mole, 'cause the creep looks like one.”
“A mole?” I asked.
“Yeah. He'll do anything for a story. He lies and badgers and just gets in your face. He does outra-geous stuff, too. Like planting dog poop outside your hotel room so he can get a picture of you stepping in it and grossing out. Or he'll climb up to your window so he can take pictures of you in your boxers. You name it, he's willing to do it.”
“That's unbelievable,” my dad said.
“That's nothing. He does illegal stuff, too. Criminal stuff. Like starting fires or breaking and entering or…” He shook his head. “Like I said, he's done it all.”
“Sue him!” I cried.
The Gecko laughed. “Believe me, I've tried. And lots of people have sued him. But he's still out there making up lies. No one can actually ever pin anything on him.” He turned to my dad and said, “Anyway, we should get back to the interview, or Henna will be all over my case.”
So Dad ran down a bunch of questions. Boring questions. Like about where he grew up, how he liked being a celebrity, what he did in his free time, did he have a tutor for school, did he see himself as a role model, what advice would he give to kids. …He didn't ask a thing about being a superhero. Or life with a talking gecko. Or what he would do if the real Damien Black ever had him in his clutches.
Boy. Did my dad have a lot to learn about inter-viewing superheroes!
Then before we knew it, Henna was back, telling Chase he had to get to the makeup trailer.
“May I take a picture of Chase and Nolan?” my dad asked. “And Nolan brought a poster for an autograph. I hope you don't mind.”
“Not a bit,” Chase said. And while I hurried to get my digital camera and poster out of my backpack, he laughed and added, “Just don't sell it to Joel the Mole.”
“No way!” I said.
He signed my poster, then put his hand on my shoulder while Dad took aim with my camera and said, “Say cheese!”
“Nah,” Chase said. “Say, Buy a PlayStation!”
We both laughed, and Dad clicked. And after we said a million thank-yous, Dad and I left.
But the second we stepped outside the door, a round-bellied man with greasy black hair jumped out from behind a big plant and, wreeenga-wreeenga-wreeenga, he shot me with a gigantic camera.
Before we knew what had hit us, the guy said, “Blast!” in a high, whiny voice, then wrinkled his pointy nose and scurried away through the stair-well door.
CHAPTER 5
Joel the Mole
“Joel the Mole!” Dad and I cried together.
“We have to warn The Gecko!” I said.
“You mean Chase,” my dad corrected.
I started to knock on his door regular, then remembered—I knew the secret knock!
Knock-knock-knock!
Knock-knock!
Knock!
Henna answered the door and looked pretty surprised to see me.
“Joel the Mole! He's here!” I cried. “He was hiding behind that plant! He jumped out and took a picture of me, then ran down those stairs!”
“What?” Chase was at the door now, too. “He's here?”
“What did he look like?” Henna asked.
“Like a mole! Kinda fat. Kinda oily. Black hair. A twitchy, pointy nose. And long teeth. Long buckteeth!”
Chase frowned at Henna. “I told you he'd come!”
“Excuse us, won't you please?” Henna said. And while she closed the door in our faces, Chase called, “You're all right, Nolan! I owe ya!”
I couldn't help smiling from ear to ear. The Gecko didn't think I was a nerd. He thought I was all right!
“Well, champ,” my dad said. “It's been a pretty exciting day, wouldn't you say?”
He was steering me toward the elevator, but I didn't want to go that way.
I wanted to follow the Mole!
“Hey!” I said, breaking free. “I've got a great idea! Why don't you go down the elevator while I go down the stairs. Let's see if we can find him!”
“Uh…”
“If you see him, follow him! I'll do the same. I'll meet you in the lobby.”
“Uh, I don't know…”
I had already dug out my camera and was heading for the stairwell door.
“Now hold your horses, Nolan.”
I shot him a look, and he read it loud and clear: Don't mess with a superhero in pursuit of truth and justice!
But just to make him feel better, I added, “I'm eleven now, Dad. Don't worry!” Then I ducked through the stairwell door.
All of a sudden, I felt like I was inside an old mine shaft going down, down, down.
My eyes were cranked.
My ears were perked.
I was feather-footed!
Fast!
Smooth.
Something about the pursuit of truth and justice makes me do things I normally can't do.
The Mole wasn't in the stairwell. And when I got to the bottom floor and opened the last door, I could see an EXIT sign to my left and the lobby to my right.
Dad spotted me from over by the elevators and waved. I could tell that he hadn't seen the Mole, either, but I wasn't ready to give up yet! I signaled my dad to go outside through the front door while I went out the side exit. He frowned and shook his head.
Obviously he had a lot to learn about pursuing truth and justice.
I frowned right back and nodded, which made him roll his eyes and sigh, but he headed for the front door.
Yeah!
I snuck outside.
I hid behind bushes.
I darted from tree to tree.
But the Mole was nowhere to be found.
Nowhere!
I saw my dad heading my way, and I thought for sure he'd make me forget about finding the Mole. But then he slowed down.
His eyes sharpened on a big bush.
I looked where he was looking, but didn't see a thing.
Very slyly, he signaled me to stay put. Then he moved his index finger
like he was taking a picture.
I ducked behind a tree.
I got my camera ready.
Then Dad cut across the grass and waved his arms through the air, yelling, “Hey! What are you doing back there? There's no loitering allowed here! Get out of here! Go! Go-go-go!”
A big bush shook.
The Mole came out from behind it!
He ran across the grass, getting away from Dad as fast as he could!
And in his hurry to get away from my dad, the Mole didn't notice me, hiding behind a tree trunk.
Didn't hear my camera activate as he looked over his shoulder at Dad.
Didn't have any idea that he was now one digitally trapped Mole.
CHAPTER 6
Time to Slime!
I didn't want to go back to school.
Didn't want to meet Mom for lunch.
Didn't want to open my birthday presents.
I had work to do!
“Please, Dad? Please-please-please?”
Dad frowned. He moved his mouth from one side to the other. He looked at me with one eye-brow up. Finally he flipped open his cell phone and called Mom.
He whispered a lot.
He said, “Uh-huh” a lot.
He shook his head a lot.
I didn't know what to think!
When he hung up, he said, “Well, champ… your mother and I have decided that since it is your birthday and since you are a superhero…”
“Yes-yes-yes!” I cried. “You're the best!”
He started the car and said, “I'll just write my ‘Cool Kid Celebrity Visits Cedar Valley’ article at home.”
The second we were home, I tore down to my room, turned on the computer, and got to work.
USB cable connected—check!
Images of the Mole loaded—check!
Images transferred into Photoshop—check!
This was gonna be fun!
I connected to the Internet and did a search for “Ugly Alien Bodies.”
I got half a million hits!
I refined the search. I had to get fewer hits! I tried “Disgusting Alien Bodies.”
Only a few thousand hits.
Still too many to sift through, though. So I tried “Weird” + “Disgusting Alien Bodies.”
Only a few hundred hits.
Time to take a look!