The Candy Shop War
Page 51

“What do we do?”
“I’ll drive my route after school,” Mr. Stott said. “Meet me with Pigeon and Summer at the bottom of Monroe Circle at about three-thirty.”
“You got it.”
“See you then.” The line went dead.
Nate put away the phone. Both Pigeon and Summer were staring at him from across the room. He had called them on Saturday and explained what had happened to Trevor. Nate nodded to confirm that it was the call they had been expecting.
Nate had mostly laid low over the weekend, and had instructed Summer and Pigeon to do the same. If Mrs. White was watching, he did not want to be out in the open unnecessarily. His one exception had been the visit to Trevor’s house on Sunday afternoon.
His stomach had been in knots when he knocked on the door, but he had known it was unfair to let Trevor’s parents think their son might be dead. He could barely look Trevor’s mom in the eye when she answered the door.
“Hi, Nate, are you here for Trevor?” To his astonishment, she had not sounded distressed.
“You could say that,” Nate had replied.
She had placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “You know, I’m having the hardest time keeping track of that boy! He’s always off on one errand or another. Seems like he’s hardly ever home lately!”
Feeling a new level of respect for the white fudge, Nate had decided not to meddle any further, hoping that somehow they would rescue Trevor before his parents ever knew he had been in danger. Part of him doubted whether it would have been possible to convince them their son was missing, no matter how much evidence he presented.
Other than visiting Trevor’s parents, updating Summer and Pigeon, and waiting in vain for Mr. Stott to call, Nate had spent the weekend attending to Trevor. He wrote him notes, showed him the Sunday funnies, and even put on a slapstick puppet show.
Trevor had pantomimed that he could not sleep inside the mirror realm. He spent many of the daylight hours exploring the void where he was trapped. Using Nate’s bathroom mirror as his home base, he had visited his own house, Pigeon’s, and had even gone across the creek to Summer’s. He had vowed not to spy on Cheryl when she used the bathroom.
Nate had written to Trevor about how his parents seemed oblivious to his disappearance, and had detailed the clues the teleidoscope had revealed, along with the plans he and Mr. Stott were hatching. Trevor often seemed bored, but his spirits remained fairly buoyant, considering the circumstances. Nate made sure the bathroom light stayed on all night.
Snapping the cell phone closed, Nate pocketed it. The lunch bell was about to ring. Miss Doulin sat at her desk, watching the clock as eagerly as her students, the thin red second hand ticking up toward twelve. Nate wondered how many pieces of fudge she would be eating. If she was anything like his parents and sister, it would be a lot.
The second hand went vertical and the bell rang.
*****
Summer sat down across from Pigeon and opened her lunch sack. She glanced at Nate, sitting alone at the far side of the lunch area, pulling a pear from his lunch bag. He still wanted to sit apart, in hopes that Mrs. White would hold him and Trevor solely responsible for stealing the teleidoscope. It was a nice thought, but Summer doubted whether they were fooling anyone.
She was still struggling to absorb what had happened to Trevor. It was nightmarish to think of him roaming from mirror to mirror, unable to sleep, no heartbeat, surrounded by darkness and silent windows to the world he had left behind. Summer had worried that Mrs. White might be dangerous, but Trevor’s fate surpassed her worst expectations. What if they never got him out?
Summer unwrapped her turkey sandwich and took a bite. It tasted dry. Not enough meat, not enough mayo, the bread getting stale. Her dad used to make such good sandwiches! The white fudge was even ruining her lunchtime!
On her second bite, she paused mid-chew, watching Denny, Kyle, and Eric saunter over to stand behind Pigeon. Denny slapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, Pigeon, what’s for lunch?”
Pigeon looked at Summer, eyes wide. These were the first words Denny had spoken to him since the incident with the trick candy.
“You better take off,” Summer said.
“You’ve got us all wrong,” Denny said, acting wounded. “We’re here to give Pigeon a treat. Sort of a payback for everything he’s done for us.”
Kyle set a waxy pink cube in front of Pigeon. “Yeah, Pigeon, this one is on us.”
“Eat up,” Eric said.
Summer slid a hand into her pocket.
“What is it?” Pigeon asked. “Laxatives?”
“Pigeon!” Denny said. “We’re not going to poison you. We got this at the best candy store in town, the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. You really should have a taste.”
“Why don’t you guys take a hike?” Nate said, stalking toward them, hands clenched into fists.
“Dirt Face!” Denny said, spreading his arms. “I was wondering when you’d turn up. We have a present for you as well.”
“Leave my friend alone,” Nate said.
“We brought treats for all you guys,” Denny said, grinning like a shark. “Where’s Trevor?”
Nate lowered his shoulder and charged Denny. Eric reached out a hand, grazing Nate’s shoulder, and a flash of electricity sent Nate twirling through the air. He landed on top of a lunch table a few yards away, his foot thumping the head of a Latino girl. Eric looked surprised at how effective the jolt had been.
“Whoa, Dirt Face!” Denny laughed. “Those were some smooth moves!”
Summer slapped her hand to her mouth, jumped over the lunch table, and swatted Denny on the back of his neck as he was still laughing. A sizzling flash sent him soaring forward in a flying somersault. He landed on his back on the concrete.
Pigeon also had Shock Bits in his hand now, Summer was reaching for another handful, and Kyle was digging in his pocket as well. Eric rushed over and crouched beside Denny. A short, pudgy yard duty, Ms. Figgoria, hustled over to them.
“Absolutely no fireworks at school!” the furious woman huffed. “Who set those off! I want names!”
Nate rolled off the table. He had warm lasagna mashed against his shirt and jeans from the pair of trays he had landed on. The girl he had accidentally kicked glared at him. Eric helped Denny to his feet.
“We don’t have fireworks,” Kyle said. “Ask my mom!”
“I saw a bright flash,” Ms. Figgoria said. “Empty your pockets!”