To Curious Heights

Chapter 12:

  Give it a Shot

  Harold and Sally drifted above the sea in a hot air balloon. Peering through a cloud, Harold spotted an approaching island on the horizon. “Looks like we’re coming up on some land!”

  Sally ran to Harold’s side and looked for herself. “Shall we descend?”

  Harold nodded. “We shall.”

  The balloon slowly descended onto the beach, then Harold and Sally walked ashore. Harold led the way with a wicker basket in hand and Sally followed, carrying a folded blanket.

  “Perfect spot for a picnic,” said Harold. He kneeled down in the grass.

  “No, over here!” Sally ran several yards way from Harold and laid the blanket under a palm tree.

  Harold stood up and walked to the tree. “Well, if you want to be picky about it...”

  “I’m not being picky. I’m being picknicky.”

  Harold placed the basket on the blanket. “Oh yeah? What does that mean?”

  “It means I picked a better spot than you.”

  Harold sat down and looked up at the coconuts hanging from the tree. “Okay, but if I get hit in the head with a coconut, you need to drive me to the hospital.”

  Sally smiled. “I can’t make any promises.” She looked at the basket. “So what’s on the menu?”

  “Only the best,” said Harold as he reached inside. “We’ve got barbecue chicken pizza.” He pulled out a full pizza on a tray and laid it down. “Cream soda.” He pulled out two cans. “And French vanilla ice cream with gummy bears inside for dessert.” He pulled out a jug of ice cream with a scoop and set them on the blanket. He also pulled out two plates and napkins.

  “Oh, great, all of your favorites... I mean, all of my favorites!” said Sally. She grabbed a piece of pizza and a plate and started eating.

  Harold grabbed a piece of pizza, but then paused. He squinted and looked at the jungle toward the center of the island. “You don’t suppose there are any orangutans or rhinos on this island, do you?”

  Sally’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe we should be careful!”

  “Yeah, they might try to eat our food.”

  “You’re right! They probably want the gummy bears. You know how orangutans and rhinos love gummy bears.”

  “What should we do if they show up?” asked Harold.

  “I think we should scoop their brains out with the ice cream scoop.”

  “Sally, that is a wonderful idea.”

  They both paused, then burst into giggles. They looked down and smiled.

  Harold lifted his eyes to Sally. “Sally, I’m really glad we have this hot air balloon and we can fly around to uncharted islands together.”

  Sally smiled back at Harold. “Yeah. It’s fun.”

  “Alright, naptime’s over!” yelled Winston.

  Harold awoke to a blurry image of Winston shaking his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and saw the other three guys with Winston standing over him as he lay on the couch of the second floor den. They were all packed up and ready to go.

  “It’s six thirty, so they should be hitting the stage within the hour,” said Doug.

  “Oh, dang it...” Harold sat up.

  “Were you dreaming?” asked Wayne.

  “Yeah.” Harold rubbed his hand through his dark hair. “It was a good one, too.”

  Wayne frowned sympathetically. “Sorry, man.”

  Harold sat still.

  “Come on, lazy butt,” said Doug, “we’ve been sitting doing nothing all day, you’ve got enough rest,”

  “How could you sleep now, anyway?” asked Samson. “Aren’t you nervish?”

  Harold stood up and walked over to grab his backpack, which lay against the wall. “I can sleep now because I couldn’t sleep last night.”

  In a few minutes, the garage door opened and the boys stepped out. They glanced about for a sign of The Order. Fortunately, their way was clear, at least for the moment. They all had their backpacks on, except for Winston, who had only his Gamebu. Doug packed the extra clothes Winston had bought in his own bag. Finally, Doug entered the passcode and closed the garage.

  Samson patted his hand on the garage door. “Goodbye, house. It’s been swell.”

  “It’s been okay,” said Winston.

  Harold pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt and looked down at it. “Alright, we don’t have much time to waste.” He looked at Doug and Samson. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

  Doug looked at his map, which showed the way to the locksmith’s house. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be hard. I’ll go in and get the key while Samson talks the guy’s ear off.”

  “It’ll fall right off his face!” yelled Samson.

  Harold nodded. “Let me know when you’re coming back and I’ll head for the back door.”

  “Okie doke.” Doug tapped the walkie-talkie on his belt.

  Harold looked at Wayne and Winston. “And you two?”

  Wayne gripped the walkie-talkie on his belt. “We’ll certainly give it our best try.”

  Winston grinned and threw his arm around Wayne’s shoulder. “We’ve got this. Slam dunk.”

  “Good.” Harold waved his walkie-talkie. “I’ll let you know when I need help.” He then spoke to everyone. “So when we’re done, you’ll all be waiting by the road behind the amphitheater?”

  “That we will,” said Doug.

  “Hopefully, the next time we’re all together, it will be in Senator Chavez’s car,” said Harold.

  “Can I drive?” asked Samson.

  “Alright, let’s go,” said Harold, ignoring Samson’s question. “God be with us.”

  The boys all took off in three different directions.

  Harold ran to a slope behind Doug’s condo which led from the side of the golf course down into town. He came into an area with a lot of trees and tried his best to avoid detection. On his way down the hill, he spotted two kids walking up an open part of the slope to his left. He veered to the right in an attempt to avoid them. When he left the cluster of trees he was in and started running through the open to get to another cluster of trees in the distance, Harold heard a familiar voice call to him.

  “Hey!”

  Harold turned his head to see Wendell Smith standing about twenty yards up the slope. Harold kept running.

  “Harold, stop!” Wendell yelled.

  Though he wanted to save energy at this point, Harold accelerated into a sprint. Immediately, Wendell began to match Harold’s pace. A moment later, Wendell, whipped out a tranquilizer gun and fired at Harold. Harold jumped between two trees as the dart flew just past his head and stuck into the tree behind him. Wendell continued following in a zigzag through the trees and pulled out a walkie-talkie.

  “Found Harold,” said Wendell into the walkie-talkie. “Chasing him now.”

  “Crap, crap, crap!” Harold began to panic. After another ten seconds of running, Harold tripped on a root and tumbled to the ground.

  “He’s down!” Wendell stopped over Harold and flipped him onto his side.

  Harold let out a loud groan. He would have tried to escape, but he had banged his knee off a rock and was in too much pain to move. He glanced up at Wendell. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m just following orders, Harold.” Wendell’s voice betrayed a hint of regret.

  “If the Prodders get the laptop, that could really hurt the state police,” said Harold. “Then who knows what could happen? People might die.”

  “That’s just speculation.” Wendell pointed the gun at Harold. “It’s in your backpack, yeah?”

  Harold looked around and realized there was no way out. “Yeah...”

  Wendell continued to stand still with the gun aimed at Harold.

  “I can’t say I knew you that well,” said Harold. “But I didn’t take you for a piece of crap.”

  Lorne’s voice came in over Wendell’s walkie-talkie. “Wendell, do you have him? Does he have it?”

  Wendell looked at his walkie-talkie, and then back at Harol
d. “Where were you going?”

  Harold sighed. “I was trying to get backstage at the Synth Sages concert and talk to Senator Chavez so he could take me and my friends home.”

  “Wendell?” Lorne checked in again.

  With his eyes and the gun still on Harold, Wendell slowly lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth, with his hand shaking. “He got away. I lost him.” Wendell took his aim off Harold, put the walkie-talkie on his belt, and held out his hand. As Harold grabbed on, Wendell pulled him up.

  Wendell sat down against a tree and stared thoughtfully at the ground. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Harold took off down the hill and didn’t look back.

  Doug and Samson came upon a small wooden shack with a stone chimney atop a short mound in an open circle of trees. The shack was slightly overgrown with ivy and surrounded by untrimmed bushes.

  “Well, Sammyboy, it appears that we’ve found it,” said Doug as he looked down at the map.

  “Let’s rob him blind!” said Samson.

  “He’s supposedly already blind.”

  “Then let’s just rob him!”

  “You ready?” asked Doug, as they walked up the mossy stone steps to the front porch.

  Samson nodded. “I’m ready, set, go!”

  “Here goes nothing.” Doug knocked on the front door.

  “Huh?” A voice came from inside. “Just a moment.” After about a minute of footsteps, the door opened, revealing an old man who looked to be in his late eighties. He had a long white beard and white hair on the sides and back of his otherwise bald head. He stared blankly over Doug and Samson. “Now who came all this way to visit poor old Malchus?”

  “It’s just me, Samson Friday, and my friend...”

  Doug smacked Samson on the top of the head and Samson stopped talking.

  “And your friend?” Malchus questioned. “There are two of you?”

  “I have two eyes,” said Samson.

  Doug pressed his palm against his face.

  “Ah, so do I,” said Malchus. “Not that it’s doing me much good these days.”

  Doug began to slowly slide past Malchus and into the shack.

  “So there aren’t two of you, then?” asked Malchus.

  “Not any more, no. Just young Samson here.”

  “Well then, Samson, what can I do for you?”

  Samson pondered his reply. “I wanted to know... If... Time travel is possible.”

  Inside the shack, Doug looked around a small room, which was full of cabinets. “Now where is it?...” He walked up to a huge cabinet sitting against the wall and opened it. Inside were rows of keys hanging on little hooks. “Aha!” He pulled his directions from his pocket and looked them over. “Amphitheater room 32B...” He looked through the cabinet until he found the corresponding key. “There we go!” He grabbed the key and stuffed it in his pocket.

  Back on the porch, Samson and Malchus kept talking.

  “And that’s why,” said Malchus, “due to the constant shifts in the space-time continuum, I could be you and you could be me, living across six and a half different dimensions.”

  “Wowee.” Samson shook his head in awe. “I never knew.”

  “Most people don’t,” said Malchus.

  Doug slid back out, past Malchus, and patted Samson on the back. “Come on, buddy. Time to go.” He then put his hand over his mouth as he realized his error.

  “What’s that?” asked Malchus. “Is somebody else there?”

  “It’s just the Ghost of Christmas Past,” said Samson. “We have to leave.”

  Malchus waved. “Alright, well take care. Don’t step in any wormholes.”

  Samson waved back. “Bye, Mister Malchus!”

  Doug and Samson took off in a jog. Soon, they came upon a creek with a wooden bridge over it, about ten yards across. They slowed to a walk as they neared the bridge.

  “Well that was pretty easy,” said Samson.

  “Sure was,” said Doug. “I’d better let Harold know we’re coming. He lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth when he suddenly heard the hoot of an owl overhead.

  Samson pointed up. “Hey, isn’t that the demon bird from a couple days ago?”

  Doug lifted his eyes and saw that the owl had bull horns on its head. “Oh no...”

  Wayne and Winston walked into the town square, which had only a few people walking around.

  “No butthead sightings so far,” said Winston.

  Suddenly, Wayne spotted two boys in the distance. “Winston, duck!!!” He grabbed Winston and pulled him down behind the large fountain in the center of the square.

  “Did you see someone?” asked Winston.

  “Yeah, a couple kids prowling back there. They’ve got to be bulls.”

  “Alright, let’s give it a few seconds, then.”

  They sat down for a minute.

  “So why do you think Harold paired us together?” asked Wayne.

  “I dunno. Alliteration?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Wayne shrugged. “Hey, remember that time at camp when we snuck into Mr. Melvin’s cabin and spread jelly all over his bed?”

  “Yeah. That was a great time.”

  “This sort of reminds me of that.” Wayne turned to look back over the fountain. “Hey, those kids are gone. Let’s get moving.”

  They stood up and started to jog down the street, soon arriving at the police station. They stopped at the entrance to the building, which was ten stories tall and not very wide.

  “This is a pretty big police station,” said Wayne.

  Winston nodded. “Yeah. They must have big police.”

  “So what the heck are we supposed to do?”

  Winston drummed on his chubby belly. “Just follow my lead and all will be well.” Winston walked through the door and Wayne followed.

  Inside the station, the boys walked up to the front desk, where a woman sat behind glass.

  “Hello, may I help you?” asked the Woman.

  “Hi. We’re here to see our dad,” said Winston.

  “What’s your dad’s name, honey?”

  “He works in the security center. You know, where they watch the security cameras and stuff. What floor is that?”

  “Floor seven.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Winston waved for Wayne to follow him. “Come on, Yoshi.”

  Wayne followed Winston as he walked towards the elevator.

  “Excuse me!” The woman raised her voice.

  Wayne and Winston stopped.

  “Yes, Ma’am?” Winston smiled.

  “What is your father’s name?”

  “Um... Jim.”

  “We don’t have anyone named Jim working on the seventh floor.”

  Winston and Wayne stood silently.

  “Please leave right now.”

  Wayne and Winston walked back out into the street.

  “Well, maybe Harold won’t need our help,” said Wayne.

  “Hold on...” Winston walked around to the side of the police station and counted its floors. “Two, three, four... Seven! Aha!” He spotted an open window on the seventh floor of the station, right across from another window on the building next to it. There were only about four feet separating the two buildings. “Pity them for leaving that window open.”

  Wayne looked up to see what Winston was implying. “Winston, no!”

  “Wayne, yes!” Winston ran through the front door of the building next to the police station and Wayne reluctantly followed.

  Harold made it to the security check at the amphitheater’s entrance and waited in line to be frisked. As he waited, he put the walkie-talkie inside his backpack. Once Harold reached the front of the line, the security guard patted him down and then looked at the backpack.

  “Son, can you open your bag for me?”

  Harold froze.

  The guard went ahead and unzipped the backpack on his own. He shuffled through and spotted the laptop. “This laptop... What’s it doing here?”

  Harold panicked. “
It’s... I just got here.”

  The man paused for a moment and then zipped the bag back up. He patted Harold on the back. “Just make sure you don’t record anything.”

  Harold nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.” He walked on through the gate, past the huge lawn area, and up to the large section of seats. He then handed his ticket to an usher, who led him to the front row.

  Harold thanked the usher and walked to his seat. He looked around at the sea of attendees, who appeared antsy as they awaited the start of the show.

  Suddenly, Harold saw a small door open on the far left underside of the stage. A crewman walked out of the door past a security guard who stood nearby. Harold reached in his backpack and pulled out the walkie-talkie.

  Doug looked around nervously at the foot of the bridge. “Come on, Samson. Let’s hurry up.”

  The two boys jogged onto the bridge when, all of a sudden, Magnus and two cohorts, all out of uniform, jumped out from the woods at the other end.

  “Gentlemen!” Magnus stepped forward.

  “Crap!” Doug spun around and pushed Samson back off of the bridge.

  Magnus and the cohorts started running in pursuit. As Doug made it to the edge of a thick set of trees, the two cohorts caught up on either side of him. Doug shoved Samson ahead through the trees as the cohorts grabbed Doug’s shoulders. Doug elbowed them both in the chest and kept running.

  Just as Doug seemed to gain some distance, Magnus jumped out from behind a tree in front of him. Doug threw a punch, but Magnus dodged it by jumping behind another tree. Magnus then jumped out from a third tree behind Doug and wrapped his arms around Doug’s torso.

  Doug bent forward and flipped Magnus over his head onto the ground. Magnus quickly jumped back up and kicked Doug in the chest. Doug grabbed Magnus’s leg, which then popped off, revealing itself to be a fake. As Doug lost his balance and stumbled backward, Magnus popped his real leg out of his shorts and proceeded to tackle Doug to the ground.

  Now pinned on his side by Magnus, Doug looked over to see that the two cohorts had Samson pinned down as well.

  Magnus yelled to his companions. “Raid his bag!”

  The cohorts shuffled through Samson’s backpack as Magnus shuffled through Doug’s.

  “It’s not in here!” yelled one of the cohorts.

  Magnus zipped Doug’s bag back up. “It isn’t in here either.”

  “Let’s make ‘em squeal!” yelled one of the cohorts.

  Magnus looked down at Doug.

  “Go ahead and try!” Doug yelled.

  Magnus considered it for a moment then shook his head. “Nah. We won’t be able to get anything out of them.” He let go of Doug, stood up, and adjusted his fedora. “But fortunately, we know someone who will.” He walked over to the two cohorts with Samson and signaled for them to stand up. He looked back at Doug. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re gonna borrow the little guy for a bit.”

  “No!” Doug screamed as he scrambled to get off the ground.

  The cohorts stood up, with the bigger of the two holding Samson under his arm. Magnus took off in a run and the cohorts followed. “To the tower!” shouted Magnus.

  Doug forced himself up and chased after them. Magnus and company made it across the bridge and, a moment later, Magnus tossed a small ball behind him as Doug stepped onto the bridge. The ball hit the bridge and exploded, collapsing the whole structure and dropping Doug into the creek.

  Just as Harold pulled out his walkie-talkie, the lights on stage went down. A deep voice came over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage... Senator Rodrigo Chavez!”

  Harold waited as the audience applauded.

  Rodrigo walked out from backstage up to a microphone. “My friends!” He held his hands in the air. “I thank you for sticking around for the third night of the summer festival! You’re in for a real treat. As it turns out, tonight’s musical guests and I have a bit in common, as none of us are native to this land. Myself being from Argentina, and them from some untold other dimension.” He looked backstage. “I’m not sure if they faced the same language barrier on arrival, though.”

  The audience chuckled.

  “Well, I don’t want to beat around the bush. None of you are here to see me. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... The Synth Sages!”

  Rodrigo scurried offstage. There was a brief moment of silence, which was quickly cut short by an explosion that cleared to reveal Norvillion at his keyboard. Next, Zallicastar dropped down on a rope from the ceiling, holding a bass guitar. Finally, Jamoroway flew out of an opening in the floor, did a forward flip, and landed on the stage, holding a synth guitar. Zallicastar and Jamoroway stepped up to their microphones as a funky bass line kicked in.

  Harold lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth.

  Wayne and Winston stood at the window of an empty office room. Winston lifted the window open.

  Wayne looked nervously around the room. “It’s weird that there’s no one in here.” He then heard the bass pulsating throughout the resort and perked up. “Do you hear that?!”

  “Huh?” Winston kept pushing the stiff window further open.

  “It’s starting!”

  “Wayne!” Harold’s voice came in over Wayne’s walkie-talkie. “Wayne, are you there?”

  Wayne pulled the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Yeah Harold, I’m here.”

  “Did you get into the security center yet?” asked Harold.

  “Um...” Wayne peered through the window at the police station. “Give us a minute.” He put the walkie-talkie back on his belt, then looked at Winston. “You’re nuts!”

  Winston climbed onto the windowsill. “I’m Winston Morris...” He leaned through the window and leapt across the alleyway. “King of the air!!!” He landed on the windowsill of the police station and climbed inside.

  Wayne sheepishly climbed up and looked down at the seven-story drop. He started breathing heavily.

  Winston poked his head back out of the police station window. “Come on, there’s no one in here. It’s just an empty hallway.”

  Wayne turned his head and saw two boys watching him from the ground just outside the alleyway. “Hey, Winston...”

  “Quit stalling!” yelled Winston.

  “Oh, alright.” Wayne swallowed his fear and quickly leapt from window to window, landing in the hallway with Winston. “Winston, there were two kids watching us down there.”

  “Good for them. Maybe they’ll learn how to be heroes.”

  “I mean, I think they’re with...”

  “I know what you meant.” Winston pointed to Wayne’s walkie-talkie. “Ask Harold what he wants.”

  Wayne spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Okay Harold, we’re here. What do you need?”

  “There’s a security guard in front of the door that leads under the stage,” said Harold. “I need you to get him out of the way.”

  “Okay, one moment...” Wayne looked at Winston, who was observing a sheet of paper on the wall.

  “How convenient!” Winston smiled. “This sheet has all of the radio frequencies for the security guards’ walkie-talkies.”

  Wayne stepped over and looked at the list. “There we go!” He pointed at the frequency shared by all amphitheater guards.

  “We’ll need the guy’s name, though,” said Winston.

  “Okay, Harold, we have the frequency,” said Wayne, “now we just need the guard’s name.”

  “Alright, give me a sec...”

  Zallicastar sang as sunlight quickly retreated from the sky and a video projection of a distant galaxy shone on a large screen behind him. “Seven suns, I swam across, the cosmic sea, to be with thee...”

  With his eyes fixed on the security guard, Harold put his walkie-talkie on his belt. He was about to take a step when he was elbowed in the head by a large dancing woman to his left.

  “Ouch!” Harold rubbed the side of his head.

  The woman looked down at Harold. “You don’t look like you’re having an
y fun,” she said, with spit flying from her mouth. “You need to lighten up.”

  “I was having fun until you elbowed me in the head,” said Harold. He then stepped away and walked up to the guard. When he got close, he put his hand out. “Hi, I’m Harold Hawkins!”

  “Uh...” The man hesitantly shook Harold’s hand. “Mark Miller.”

  “Nice to meet you. Bye!” Harold quickly walked back to his seat.

  Zallicastar kept crooning. “I never thought that I would go so far for love, and yet it seems as if my best is not enough. But I would overcome this feat if I could only stand the heat of seven suns.”

  Harold buzzed Wayne. “His name’s Mark Miller.”

  “Okay. We’ll see what we can do.” Wayne looked over the sheet and adjusted the walkie-talkie to the appropriate frequency. He hesitated as he thought of what to say.

  “Here, I’ll take care of this.” Winston grabbed the walkie-talkie from Wayne and yelled into it. “Miller! Miller, you there?”

  “Uh... Yeah,” Miller responded. “What’s up?”

  “We need you in row fifteen. This kid’s barfing all over the place.”

  “What?...”

  “It got all over this one guy and now I think he wants to kill the kid.”

  “Can’t somebody else...”

  “Nope. Only you.”

  “Fine. I’ll be right over.”

  As Miller walked away, Harold took his chance and ran to the door as quickly and discreetly as possible. He opened the door and hopped in, closing it behind him.

  Inside, Harold saw nothing but dirt and wood beams, though not very clearly, as it was quite dark. He made his way to the left side of the under-stage, where he found a small staircase ascending to an opening in the stage floor. He walked up and found himself alone in a small corner at the back of stage right.

  Harold looked across to see that the doors leading into the rest of the building were behind stage left. There were some crewman backstage as well, but they were more toward the front and had their eyes on the Synth Sages.

  It was then that a spiral staircase beside Harold, which led up to the catwalk, caught his attention. He knew that this was his best bet to get across the stage, but there was a security camera pointing at the base of the staircase. He buzzed Wayne and informed him of the obstacle.

  “Okay, hold on.” Wayne looked at Winston, who then led as they snuck to the end of the hallway. They poked their heads around the corner and witnessed the dark control room, where two men sat in front of control panels with rows of monitors in front of them. The monitors each displayed the views from individual security cameras.

  “Any ideas?” Whispered Wayne.

  Winston looked at the wall behind him and noticed a clipboard hanging on a nail. He grabbed the clipboard and tossed it across the control room, where it smacked off the wall behind the two men. As the men spun around to see what had happened, Winston yanked on Wayne’s sweatshirt and led him in a sprint down the hallway. The two boys then busted through the exit into the stairwell at the end of the hall.

  “Go for it!!!” yelled Wayne from the walkie-talkie.

  “Okie dokie.” Harold proceeded to run up the stairway as fast as he could. When he arrived at the top, he peered across the long walkway, which hung a few stories above the space-age theatrics on the stage. Each end of the catwalk was blocked from outside view by the ends of the slightly arching roof, so he was currently hidden from the sniper’s sight. Harold felt his stomach turn. He wasn’t afraid of heights so much, but he was certainly afraid of snipers.

  Doug staggered out of the creek, dripping with muddy water. Once his feet were dry enough to stop slipping in the grass, he began to dash in the direction that Magnus had run. Soon, he reached a point where the ground sloped dramatically down toward town, but the slope was covered in trees, so he was unable to see where his enemies had run. Doug looked to his right and noticed a ski lift, which was still running. He found this odd, considering there was no one around, but he wasn’t going to complain.

  Doug ran to the lift, where he saw that the door leading to the landing platform was locked. The lift must have been left running by mistake, he thought. He then ran in front of the lift, where he found that the chairs hung above the grass at about the same height as his shoulders.

  Taking very little time to think it through, Doug jumped up to one of the exiting lifts and grabbed onto the back of the seat. He found some footing on the underside bars and rested his feet as he rode the lift down the mountain. When he neared the bottom, Doug saw Magnus and the others running into town in the direction of the church and realized that Magnus must have been talking about the church tower.

  Just before reaching the base of the lift, Doug dropped to the ground and took off to the church. Once he was a block away, Doug saw Magnus and his companions enter through the church’s front doors. When Doug arrived at the building, he tried the doors for himself, but couldn’t get them to move. He slammed his foot then looked down the street at the Stinkerton and remembered that its basement was connected to the basement of the church. With no time to lose, Doug leapt down the front steps and ran to the hotel.

  “I’d like to dance with you tonight, if that’s all right with you. Our feet will take us out of sight, from the common view.” Jamoroway’s voice could be heard from the rooftop of the police station as Wayne and Winston stepped onto it.

  “Wayne, I’m on the catwalk,” said Harold over the walkie-talkie. “I need you to make sure the sniper can’t see me.”

  “We’ll see what we can do,” said Wayne as he and Winston stepped outside the rectangular stairway exit structure on the back corner of the roof, facing away from the amphitheater. “Wow, the concert is so clear from up here!” he remarked to Winston.

  Zallicastar’s voice bellowed. “We’ll go for a ride, in my starship, across the galaxies.”

  “So it is,” said Winston. He and Wayne poked their heads around the stairway structure and saw the sniper crouched at the far end of the roof, watching the stage intently through the scope of his rifle. “That’s freaky, man,” whispered Winston. “He could just pick off the entire band if he wanted to.”

  “I’m just glad Doug’s not in his position,” said Wayne.

  Winston waved forward. “Let’s get closer.” He led Wayne as they snuck over to a large vent toward the center of the roof and crouched behind it. Winston held his hand over his mouth and thought for a moment. “Maybe we should just ask a stupid question or something. It doesn’t really matter; we just need to distract him.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not even supposed to be up here,” whispered Wayne. “We’ll end up in police custody and then our plan will be bungled.”

  “Well there’s not much else we can do. Let’s just pretend we’re lost, then improvise from there.”

  Wayne looked up at the stars, which were beginning the show through the sky. “What has become of my life?”

  Winston stood up and so did Wayne, shaking madly. They started walking toward the sniper.

  Winston yelled. “¡Ay, caramba! How did we end up here?”

  The sniper’s head spun around in an instant. He sprung his open palm out at Winston and Wayne. “Stop right there!”

  The two boys froze. “My life is over!” cried Wayne.

  Suddenly, a dart flew past and stuck in the sniper’s neck, causing him to collapse unconscious on the floor. Wayne and Winston looked behind them and saw the two kids that Wayne had spotted from the window, standing by the vent. One of the kids held a tranquilizer gun, pointed at the sniper.

  “It’s those kids from before!” yelled Wayne.

  “Party’s over, jerks,” said Kid 1 with the gun. He aimed at Wayne and fired.

  Wayne dodged the dart and sprinted toward the stairway, with Winston following. As they turned around the stairway structure to reach the door, the two kids came up on their backs. Kid 2 dove on Wayne and pinned him to the floor. Kid 1 then fired a second time and landed a d
irect hit in Wayne’s neck, putting him unconscious.

  Kid 1 then tried to shoot Winston, but before he could, Winston grabbed the kid’s shooting arm with both hands and jerked it to the side. The gun went off and fired into Kid 2, putting him unconscious.

  Kid 1 put his other hand on the gun and began to wrestle with Winston over it. Winston kicked Kid 1’s feet out from under him and both boys fell to the floor. They continued wrestling until the gun was pointed at the wall. The gun fired and the dart ricocheted from the wall to the floor. In an instant, Winston let go of the gun, grabbed the dart, and plunged it into Kid 1’s arm. Kid 1 aimed the gun at Winston’s neck, but fell unconscious before he could fire.

  Breathing heavily, Winston slowly sat himself up and shook his head. He grabbed the walkie-talkie off of Wayne’s belt and spoke into it. “You’re good to go.” He clipped the walkie-talkie onto his own belt and stood up. With what strength he had left, he bent over and pulled Wayne from the floor. Winston put Wayne’s left arm around his shoulders and propped him up. “Come on, pal... Our work here is done.” He opened the door and began to carry Wayne down the steps.

  Zallicastar sat at a piano as the concert continued. Fog and fireflies filled the air as frogs hopped and crocodiles walked across the stage. Zallicastar sang. “With my friends in the swamp, we watch the world go by; waiting for the day when we’ll look God in the eye.”

  Harold made his way across the catwalk, with his eyes on the curious scene below. He quickly made it to the other side and walked halfway down the staircase when he spotted a man standing in front of the doorway he intended to go through. A frustrated sigh leaked from his mouth.

  Harold thought for a moment, then shuffled through his pockets. He pulled out the golf ball he had picked up the night before, for he was wearing the same shorts. He proceeded to chuck the ball at the floor near the man. The man took notice as the ball bounced by, then followed after it.

  Harold quickly scurried down the rest of the stairs. He started to walk through the fog, when he heard a loud growl behind him. As he turned his head, he was startled to find a large crocodile at his backside.

  The crocodile snapped its jowls and began to pursue Harold. With a loud shriek, Harold darted for the door. As soon as he reached it, he yanked the door open, hopped in, and slammed it behind him. He was just in time, as he heard the crocodile’s face slam into the door on the other side.

  Harold lifted his eyes to see that he was now standing in an unusually long hallway. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted to look like deep space. In the middle of the hallway stood a man wearing what Harold could only describe as some sort of cosmic desert garb—not unlike that worn by the Synth Sages—with his eyes veiled by a huge pair of shades.

  Samson sat tied to a chair inside the belfry of the clock tower, which was illuminated by candles and the moonlight which poured through the translucent clock face. Sprocket played the interrogator as Lorne, Magnus, and Magnus’s two cohorts watched intently.

  Sprocket took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Samson. Where is the laptop?”

  “I told you,” cried Samson, “Charlie Dickens has it.”

  Sprocket adjusted his spectacles as he tried to contain his frustration. He knelt down and put his hand on Samson’s arm. “Samson, that is a bad lie... A very bad lie. We all know that Charlie Dickens doesn’t have the laptop. He died a long time ago.”

  “Why are you touching me?!” Samson squirmed. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

  “Listen, I know you have a lot of frustration,” Sprocket said calmly. “It’s good to let it out.”

  One of the cohorts stepped forward. “Your stupid mind games aren’t working on him, Sprocket. We need to smack it out of him!”

  Lorne grabbed the cohort by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Hey, let it go, guys. We’re not getting anything here.”

  Sprocket took his hand off of Samson and stood up. “Well that’s just the peaches.”

  Lorne picked a walkie-talkie off of a table. “But an idea just came to mind...” He started walking towards a stairway. “Follow me.”

  The other four bulls followed Lorne and walked down the stairway out of the room. A few seconds passed, then Doug came running up a different stairway and into the room. He stopped as he saw Samson sitting alone and tied to the chair. He looked around in confusion.

  Samson smiled. “Oh hey, Doug!”

  Doug scratched his head. “They just left you here?”

  “They were asking me where the laptop is. I told them the Charlie Dickens has it.”

  Doug walked over to Samson. “I don’t imagine they bought that, did they?”

  “No, but they left me alone.”

  Doug started untying Samson. “Well, whatever works...”

  As soon as he was untied, Samson jumped out of his chair. Doug picked up Samson’s backpack, which was lying against the wall and handed it to him. “Time to go drop this key off,” said Doug. The two boys then ran down the stairs and out of the room.

  “Little boy, come this way,” said the man in the hallway.

  Harold walked down the hall and perceived that the stars and planets that were painted on the walls began to appear more three-dimensional with every step. He stopped in front of the man. “Um... Hi.”

  The man stood still. “What is it that you seek?”

  “I’m looking for room 32B.”

  “It’s in the next hallway; second to last door on the right.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  The man remained stiff as an oak.

  Harold poked his head around each side of the man. “Hey, can I get through here?”

  “Only if you answer correctly my riddle.”

  Harold shrugged. “Okay.”

  The man cleared his throat. “The riddle is this... A frog and a tadpole seek a prize. Between the amphibians and the prize stand two holes. The first hole is underwater and too small for the frog to fit through it. The second hole is on land where the tadpole cannot tread. Which one receives the prize and how?”

  Harold thought for a moment. “Is there a time limit? I mean for the frog and the tadpole.”

  “There is not.”

  Harold pondered the riddle for a few moments more. “I guess it would be the tadpole. He swims through the first hole, waits until he grows into a frog, and then hops through the second. Is that right?”

  “That is correct. You may pass”

  “That was a pretty easy riddle.”

  “Easy in theory, but not so in practice. Meditate long on the answer and learn from the tadpole.” The man stepped aside.

  “Yeah, sure.” Harold charged forward.

  “The other door you need is at the bottom of the stairway at the end of this hall,” said the man.

  Harold paused. “Wait, what?” He looked behind him and found that the man was gone. “This concert is really starting to creep me out.” He turned back and walked to the last door, where he entered the stairwell.

  As Harold descended, Doug buzzed in on the walkie-talkie. “We’re outside, Harold.”

  Harold buzzed back. “Perfect timing. Be right there.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and opened the exit door to find Doug and Samson standing outside on a dock that rested over Lake Ignotus. Harold smiled. “Hey! Good to see you guys.”

  “Yeah, I’ll say,” said Doug. “Everything go smoothly for you?”

  Harold shrugged. “Smooth enough, I suppose. How about you?”

  Doug pulled the key out of his pocket. “We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Harold took the key. “We’re almost there. Pray that I don’t screw this up.”

  Doug nodded. “See you soon, Harold.”

  Samson waved. “Bye, dude!”

  “See ya.” Harold closed the door and walked back up the stairs. He stepped back into the space hallway, which looked less realistic than he remembered it. He then stopped as he spotted Rodrigo Cha
vez walking down the hall, with his back to Harold. When he reached the far end, Rodrigo opened the door and walked out to the stage.

  On stage, Zallicastar sang with all of his might. “Dear Betty, please make me, yeti spaghetti. Loooooooooooove, Andretti.” The song closed, then the band bowed and walked offstage to roaring applause.

  Doug and Samson walked along the lakeside road toward their waiting point and looked back at the amphitheater.

  “Good riddance!” yelled Doug.

  Samson looked concerned. “Do you speak of Harold?”

  “No, the Synth Sages.”

  “Oh, heavens yes!” Samson shook his fist towards the stage. “Good riddance indeed!”

  Once they were about a half-mile from the amphitheater, they saw Winston dragging Wayne across the road. When he had made it to the side of the road that faced the lake, Winston laid Wayne on the ground. He then looked up and noticed the other two.

  “Looks like you had some trouble as well,” said Doug.

  “Just a little,” said Winston.

  Suddenly, Wayne began to awake. “Huh?” He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then put the glasses back on. He looked at Winston. “Winston? What happened?”

  “Those jerks tranquilized you.” Winston cracked his knuckles. “But I took care of them!”

  “Samson and I got the key to Harold,” said Doug. “Now he just has to ask the senator for a ride.”

  “Oh, okay.” Wayne nodded. “So far, so good, then.”

  “And your boys just walked off the stage,” Doug added.

  Wayne sat up. “Oh good, then I haven’t missed the encore!”

  Doug frowned. “Dangit, I forgot about that.”

  The crowd went wild as the Synth Sages walked back on stage and stepped up to their positions. Zallicastar spoke into his microphone. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  The audience quieted down.

  “Over the past few days, we have had the privilege of getting to know and spend some time with Senator Rodrigo Chavez,” said Zallicastar. “During one of our conversations, he informed us of his skill with the guitar. We then lent him one of our own and he proceeded to impress us with a demonstration. As if that were not enough, he went on to suggest the possibility of his playing with us during one of our songs.”

  The noise from the crowd started to pick up again.

  Zallicastar looked backstage. “And you know what we told him?” He paused for a moment to let the anticipation build and then looked back at the audience. “We told him to Give it a Shot!!!”

  The crowd went bananas as Rodrigo Chavez walked out onto the stage, guitar in hand. He began to play the song’s opening riff as Norvillion backed him on the keyboard.

  Wayne stood up. “‘Give it a Shot!’ They’re playing ‘Give it a Shot!’” This was the band’s biggest hit.

  “I think we’ve figured that much out,” said Doug.

  Wayne hopped up and down. “Best song ever!”

  Zallicastar sang passionately over a funky dance beat as laser lights spun around the atmosphere. “You and I could write a story, of hope and glory... And love. In your eyes is hesitation. It’s your reputation that you’re thinking of.”

  Harold walked from the space hallway into a second, more ordinary hall. He kept walking until he arrived at the door for room 32B. He looked left and right to make sure there were no witnesses, then inserted the key and opened the door. He stepped into the room, flipped on the lights, and closed the door, locking it behind him. Harold noticed a travel bag on a desk as he sat down in a large leather chair next to it. Taking a deep breath, he tried to suppress his nerves and waited.

  Zallicastar’s voice came through the walls. “We could lie in fascination, at the constellations... Above.”

  Winston sat on the ground, playing his Gamebu, while Wayne bobbed up and down to the music. It then caught Wayne’s attention that Doug was tapping his foot.

  “You’re tapping your foot!” yelled Wayne.

  Doug blushed. “Am not!”

  “Are too. You’re not fooling anyone.”

  “Alright, fine.” Doug rolled his eyes. “This song is kinda catchy... A broken clock can find a nut once in a while.”

  Harold started to sweat at he squirmed in his chair. He rolled up his sleeves and rubbed his forehead. The harder he tried to think of what he could say to Senator Chavez, the slower the ideas came. He then simply resigned himself to prayer.

  Zallicastar danced around as he played bass and belted out the final chorus. “You are the one to decide the path that you take, good or bad, the choice is yours to make. And I don’t know who you think that I am, but unless you take a leap of faith, you’ll never understand. Give it a Shot!” With a final flash of colorful light, the song was over. The Sages and Rodrigo bowed and walked offstage to thundering applause.

  Harold continued to sit with his head bowed as his sweatshirt absorbed its namesake. Suddenly, he heard a key enter the keyhole. He jerked up in his seat. The knob turned, the door swung open, and in walked Rodrigo Chavez.

  “I forgot to turn off the light,” muttered Rodrigo, with his eyes on the door as he closed it. He then lifted his head and stopped cold as he spotted Harold.

  Harold began to shake.

  “Who are you?!” yelled Rodrigo. “What are you doing here?!”

  “Sir, I’m sorry. My name is Harold—“

  “Don’t move!!!” Rodrigo whipped his arm out. “Stay right there!”

  Harold squirmed. “Sir, I don’t mean any harm. I’m from Curious Heights and my friends and I are...

  “Just stop talking and stay where you are! I’m calling security!”

  Harold held his face in his hands “Oh no...” He could feel all of his hopes slipping through his fingers.

  Rodrigo pulled out his cell phone and started to dial when Ruth suddenly burst through the door.

  “Dad, stop!” Ruth yelled.

  Rodrigo turned. “Ruth?!”

  “Dad, don’t call security on him!”

  “Ruth, this boy broke into the room and was just waiting there when I walked in!”

  “I know. I helped him get in here.”

  “You helped him?!” Rodrigo frowned.

  “Yes, Dad. This is Harold Hawkins. We go to school together. He and his friends are stuck here and they need a ride home.”

  “I don’t care who he is. Nobody sneaks up on me like that.”

  “He’s also good friends with Sally.”

  “That’s irrelevant, he’s...” Rodrigo’s eyes widened as he suddenly stopped speaking.

  “Please, Dad...”

  Rodrigo caught his breath. “You said his name is Harold?”

  “Harold Hawkins, yeah.”

  Rodrigo looked at Harold, who was curled in a ball. “You’re friends with Sally Livingstone?”

  Harold nodded.

  Rodrigo stepped toward Harold and began to calm down. “I’m sorry, I...” He paused and took a few more breaths. “I think I realize who you are now.”

  Harold couldn’t think of what to say, as he was quite confused.

  Rodrigo pointed at the travel bag on the desk. “Open up my bag... Look inside.”

  Harold looked at the bag. “Okay...” He stood up, still shaking, and walked to the desk. He slowly unzipped the bag and looked inside. Harold’s jaw dropped as he reached inside and pulled out a black book with the words “Santa Biblia” written on the cover.

  “Two years ago, after the attempt was made on my life,” said Rodrigo, “I was providentially placed on a hospital bed next to Eric Livingstone. He happened to be there because of a parasite he picked up in Peru. We were acquainted before then because Sally and Ruth were friends, but we weren’t close.”

  Harold stared back at Rodrigo. His nerves were still going crazy, but the sensation was different than before.

  Rodrigo continued. “As time passed in the hospital, he and I started to have deep conversations. He eventually began to tell me of the good news that Go
d gave his perfect Son to die for the sins of the world, including my own. I listened with much interest, but didn’t take it to heart yet, so Eric gave me a Spanish Bible that he happened to have with him. He later confessed that it was a gift from his daughter’s friend and he felt bad for giving it away, but he had to strike while the iron was hot. And since Spanish is my native language, Eric felt that I could use it more than him.”

  Harold shook his head in awe.

  “He spoke very well of you, Harold.” Rodrigo took the bible. “So once I returned home, I started to read this book and the words came alive. I quickly became convicted of my own sin and of God’s love. I repented and put my trust in Christ for my salvation, and my life hasn’t been the same since. Harold, if it weren’t for your bible, I would be a different person today. And I don’t want to think about what would have happened if I had died in that hospital bed.”

  Harold was speechless.

  Rodrigo glanced at Ruth, then looked at the floor. “I’m sorry that I can still be so paranoid at times. I should know better now.”

  Harold nodded.

  “And I’m sorry that I spoke so quickly when I saw you, Harold.” He shook his head. “Funny how providence works.”

  “Does that mean you’ll give him a ride home?” asked Ruth.

  “Yes, of course it does.” Rodrigo laughed. “This is quite an about face, isn’t it?” He looked at Harold. “Now, you said you had friends with you, as well?”

  Harold loosened up. “Yeah, they should be waiting on the road by the lakeshore.”

  “Okay, perfect,” said Rodrigo. “Our limo will be going by there. Just let me grab my things and we’ll head down.” He walked over and patted Ruth on the head. “Now get back to your mother, young lady. I’ll see you back here tomorrow night.”

  Ruth smiled and nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

  Rodrigo bent forward and kissed Ruth on the forehead.

  Harold hopped from his chair and let out a huge sigh of relief. He looked at Rodrigo. “Thank you, sir.”

  Doug looked down at Winston, who continued to play his game. “Winston, get up.”

  “Hold on, I’m not done.”

  “Winston, get up! The limo is coming.”

  Winston lifted his head. “Oh, so it is. I hope Harold’s inside.”

  The limo pulled up to the side of the road and the door opened, revealing Harold and Rodrigo in the back.

  Harold waved. “Come on in, guys!”

  The boys entered.

  “Harold told me you all needed a ride,” said Rodrigo, “so I thought I’d help you out.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Doug. “This is much appreciated.”

  They shut the door and the limo began to move again.

  “So you are all from Curious Heights, then?” asked Rodrigo.

  “You bet your butt we are,” said Samson.

  Wayne whispered to Harold. “How in the world did you convince him?”

  “You’ll never believe it,” whispered Harold. “Remember how I told you about the Spanish Bible I gave to Sally’s dad?”

  Wayne nodded.

  “Well, it turns out that—“

  BANG! One of the tires blew out, sending the limo spinning. Everyone started to tremble.

  “What in the world is going on?!” shouted Rodrigo.

  The limo stopped moving.

  Rodrigo called to the driver. “Jeeves, what happened?”

  The driver responded through the window. “I believe the tire blew out, sir. I will check on it.” Jeeves exited the car. The others could see his silhouette through the left-side window as he bent down to inspect the blown tire. “Something tore through the tire, sir. It appears to be a... Bullet hole!” He then gasped and fell to the ground.

  “Jeeves?... Jeeves?!” Rodrigo yelled. He held out his hand to calm the boys. “Hold on, guys. We’ll sort this out.”

  Rodrigo reached to open the left door, but it opened on its own, revealing Magnus Simmons with a tranquilizer gun. Magnus shot Rodrigo in the neck and Rodrigo collapsed on the floor.

  “No!!!” Harold screamed.

  “You piece of dirt!!!” Doug tried to grab Magnus, but Magnus shot him and brought him to the floor.

  Magnus proceeded to shoot Winston, Samson, and Wayne, putting all of them unconscious. He tried to shoot Harold, but the gun just clicked, as he was out of darts. “Crap!”

  Magnus lunged over the seat at Harold and Harold punched him in the face. Magnus recoiled, then tackled Harold. They wrestled until Magnus pulled Harold’s arms behind his back and immobilized him.

  As Magnus dragged Harold out of the car, Harold saw Jeeves’ unconscious body lying by the flat tire. Lorne stood at the roadside with Sprocket and the two cohorts from before. Sprocket held a tranquilizer gun and Lorne held a smoking revolver.

  “I ran out of ammo!” said Magnus as he struggled to contain Harold.

  Sprocket shot Harold with a dart and Harold dropped to the ground.