Neal shook his head. “For lunch. The concession stand is getting really busy.”

  He bounced up from the blanket, then pointed across the pond. “But call me if Mr. Frando catches any fish sticks out there!”

  Eric and Julie sat watching as Neal worked his way inch by inch to the head of the food line. He was nearly at the counter when Eric turned his head and caught sight of a tall girl standing on the beach behind them. She had long, wavy hair and the darkest eyes he had ever seen.

  Julie saw her, too. She made a low growling noise. “Meredith! She’s everywhere.”

  Eric had to admit it. The girl was everywhere. She had just moved into a house on his street. She went to their school. She had even come to his house once. Meredith had only been around for a few days, and already Eric was certain she had heard them talking about Droon.

  “Whenever I even think about Droon, she’s there,” said Julie. “We have to be careful.”

  Eric kept his eyes fixed on the girl. “Right,” he whispered. “Careful. Because Droon has to stay a secret —”

  Suddenly, Julie grabbed his arm. “Oh, my gosh, Eric, look —”

  Eric turned to see Neal, his arms filled with trays and boxes and giant cups, heading straight for a hole some little kids had dug in the sand.

  Eric nearly choked. “Oh, no! Neal!”

  Neal peered over his food. “Coming!”

  “He’ll fall in!” said Julie.

  Without thinking, Eric flicked the index finger of his right hand.

  Zzzzzt! A single silver spark flew across the sand, whizzing past coolers and around beach chairs. Just as Neal lowered his foot — pooomf! — a small explosion of sand filled the hole.

  Neal stepped on it firmly and kept walking.

  Eric grinned. “Ha! That was awesome!”

  “Not so awesome!” said Julie. “That nosy girl saw you! Meredith saw you! She’s coming over here! And — look — the soccer ball!”

  The magical soccer ball had begun to float up and away from the kids’ blanket.

  “Oh, no!” cried Eric. He tossed a beach towel over the ball and wrestled it to the ground.

  Neal plopped down next to him, slurping a large milk shake. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “Everything!” said Julie. “The new girl saw us! We’re in really deep trouble now!”

  But just when they expected her to stop at their blanket, Meredith ran past them and dived into the water. “That man needs help!” she yelled.

  Everyone looked to the far side of the pond, where Mr. Frando was up to his neck, splashing around. “D-d-d-deep!” he cried.

  The beach lifeguard jumped down from his chair and was in the water in a flash.

  But before he was even halfway to Mr. Frando, Meredith was at the gym teacher’s side, pulling him through the water toward the far shore.

  Eric blinked. “She may be nosy, but she’s an amazing swimmer. Mr. Frando is sure lucky.”

  “We’re lucky, too, this time,” said Julie. She had begun throwing their beach stuff into her bag. “Maybe Meredith didn’t see your spark, and maybe she didn’t see the ball. But Keeah needs us. Neal, bring your food. We’re going. Now!”

  Without another word, the three friends took off from the beach, racing through backyards and darting down driveways until they bounded up the back steps of Eric’s house.

  Out of breath, Eric entered his kitchen and paused to listen. “The coast is clear. Let’s go!”

  They hustled down the basement stairs. Eric set the magic soccer ball on his father’s workbench and turned to his friends. “Sorry, guys. Using powers at the beach was dumb. I know I need to be more careful.”

  “We all have to be careful,” said Julie as they piled into a small closet under the stairs. She closed the door behind them. “We can’t let anyone know about Droon. Ever.”

  “True,” said Neal. “But I’m glad you saved my lunch, Eric.” He popped the last onion ring in his mouth, dusted his hands, and flicked off the ceiling light.

  Whoosh! A bright light blazed, and the closet floor became the top step of a staircase glittering with every color of the rainbow.

  “So awesome!” Eric whispered.

  The three friends descended the stairs. Before long, they were surrounded by a thick fog. When the staircase ended, they found themselves in total darkness. They stepped onto a floor.

  “We’re in a room of some kind,” said Julie.

  Neal pinched his nose. “A smelly room. We aren’t in a supply closet, are we?”

  When their eyes had adjusted to the dark, the three kids spied a faint outline ahead of them.

  “We’ll know soon enough,” said Eric. “There’s a door.” He groped around carefully until he found a handle, then turned it slowly. The door opened on a corridor that was all black except for bright green flames leaping up from a cauldron at the ceiling.

  “Green fire,” whispered Neal. “Don’t beasts like green — oh!”

  Just then, a giant gray snail with dark red eyes slithered around the corner, heading straight toward them.

  For the third time that morning, Eric nearly choked.

  “Oh, no!”

  Text copyright © 2005 by Robert T. Abbott.

  Illustrations copyright © 2005 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

  SCHOLASTIC, LITTLE APPLE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First printing, January 2005

  Cover art by Tim Jessell

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-41837-9

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

 


 

  Tony Abbott, The Race to Doobesh

 


 

 
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