The Fight for Kidsboro (34 page)

Alice said that she would take care of security, “just in case things get out of hand.” We all knew that things rarely got out of hand, but we nodded to support Alice's one and only contribution to the meeting.

But the one idea that we all got excited about came from Nelson.

“I've got a new invention I've been looking forward to unveiling. Eugene and I are almost done. Maybe I could do it at this thing.”

“A new invention?” I said.

“Yeah. We've been working on it for about a month now, and I think we've got it just about right.”

“What is it?” Jill asked.

“It's … in the entertainment field,” he said.

Nelson's inventions were always extremely popular. Everyone loved the idea of playing with something that no one else in the world had. His last invention, a computer-programmable car, had sold 51 units in only three months. The fact that he had a new creation was not only a magnet to draw people to our celebration, but It was also good for Kidsboro. It would set us apart from Bettertown because we had something they didn't—ingenuity. Yes, they had a bowling alley, but we had Nelson. And he would bring Kidsboro back.

We decided that the celebration would be in four days, on December 10.

I stopped counting after it became clear that we were not going to get as big a crowd as Max's grand opening had. But It wasn't bad. After the rest of the town got word of the celebration, a few people got into it and created attractions of their own. Pete, our resident movie buff, made a short video presentation that was a reenactment of the settling of Kidsboro, 11 months before. It started out with the words “Birth of a Town” in big bold letters in the foreground, then in smaller letters, “Brought to you by Sid's Bakery.” It was part of the deal.

In one scene, the boy playing me said to four people standing around, “What shall we do, my friends? We have fought oppression and slavery, and won. And now, I yearn for a land of freedom.” And then I planted a flag in the ground. Not only did we not have a flag back then, but we never faced any oppression or slavery, nor do I ever remember having used the word
yearn
, and I most certainly didn't have a British accent, as this actor did. So, the facts were a little exaggerated, but it was still fun.

Speaking of the flag, Roberto came up with what I thought was a great symbol. It looked a lot like the American flag, with a blue field in the upper left hand corner, but instead of stars, there was a white silhouette of a big oak tree, and the trunk formed the vertical line of a
K
, for Kidsboro. The red and white stripes were the same, except the red stripes were thinner. He told me that this represented us, in that we were smaller, yes, but that we still wanted the same things that America did—freedom, peace, and so on. I thought it was pretty cool. He and Jill had printed out about 20 copies of the flag, and they were flying them all over town. And at the bottom of each flag, there was the fine print that read, “This flag sponsored by Sid's Bakery.”

As predicted, many people bought the
History of Kidsboro
collector's book simply because it contained their names. The facts in it were more accurate than Pete's film, but it still sparked some controversy over who actually came up with some of the ideas for the town. The layout was sharp. Jill had scanned color photos and placed designer borders around the edges. The quality was only slightly marred by the Sid's Bakery ads on every other page.

Sid outdid himself with the food. He baked every pastry known to man—donuts, bagels, Danishes, coffee cakes, cheesecakes, pies, breads, muffins, cinnamon rolls, sweet rolls—and it was all delicious. I had forgotten what an asset Sid was to our community, but he proved himself once again.

Mark had lowered the price on rounds for the day, and his miniature golf course was packed. He'd even added two holes. On one you had to pretend you were crossing a city street with the ball. There were tiny plastic pedestrians walking across the street, and if you hit one, you got a one-stroke penalty. This was the type of ingenuity I was talking about.

But the highlight of the day was, of course, the unveiling of Nelson's new invention, which would occur near the creek. All day people were stopping to gaze at the large quilts that were covering the invention, curiosity oozing out their eyeballs. There was a sign next to it that read, “Nelson Swanson's new invention to be unveiled at three o'clock.”

At 2:51, when I got there, there was already a crowd of at least 30 people gathered around the quilts. Nelson and Eugene walked up at exactly three o'clock with their chins raised in the air a little. Eugene had invented some very impressive things himself, most of them having to do with computer programs. He often helped Nelson with his more elementary inventions. Eugene's pride was more in Nelson, instead of their inventions. He took a couple of steps to the side of the quilts, letting Nelson have the spotlight.

Nelson smiled as he checked his watch. He looked up and breathed in heavily, as if trying to smell the anticipation of the crowd. It grew quiet. He glanced at Eugene, who nodded back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for many years, this creek has been impossible to navigate with any kind of watercraft. Boats didn't work because, during most times of the year, the creek was too shallow, and a boat would scrape the bottom. But three months ago, I saw something that made me change my outlook regarding this impossible task. It was a water moccasin—skimming across the top of the water. I asked myself, ‘Why couldn't we do that? Why couldn't we float on
top
of the water instead of sinking slightly below the surface?' And that is the reason I decided to create something that will revolutionize the way we view creek navigation.

“I present to you … the water Moccasin 250!” Eugene jerked away the quilts to reveal something that looked like a go-cart without wheels. It had two seats, a steering column, a propeller on the underside, and four inflatable inner tubes serving as “wheels” on the bottom. There Was a Sid's Bakery bumper sticker on the back. The crowd stepped closer and peered inside, and we saw two pairs of bicycle pedals attached to axles in front of both seats. It was very impressive.

Nelson, Eugene, and two other boys took the invention to the edge of the creek and placed it in the water. Nelson would be the first to try it, just to show the others that there was no risk of drowning. Without hesitation, he plopped down into the Moccasin and began pedaling. Sure enough, the craft floated on the water with no problem.

Eugene cleared his throat. “Notice the rubber bumpers on each side of the craft, so that rocks can't damage the sides.” Nelson bounced a little as he maneuvered upstream. He pedaled frantically, the propeller twirling behind him, and the craft inched up the creek in slow motion. The amount of work Nelson had to do to get the thing to move that slowly didn't seem worthwhile.

“Now,” Eugene said, “the craft's velocity will increase when another passenger is added.”

Nelson ducked his head as he went under the bridge, and he continued upstream. The crowd cheered.

Nelson floated back downstream a few minutes later. He didn't even have to pedal as he went with the current. But one thing was certain: No one would be taking this thing any farther downstream, no matter how easy it was. There was a five-foot waterfall only 100 feet downstream from the bridge, and no one would risk the fall.

The crowd cheered again, and Nelson waved to the fans. No one had ever gone that far upstream before because there was a tall fence put up by the city of Odyssey that prevented anyone from walking along the shore. But this watercraft would enable people to go up stream in the water. No one even knew what was up there. I knew this would be a popular attraction.

That day, Nelson gave everyone free five-minute rides. The passengers couldn't really get very far in five minutes, so this was a smart strategy. It made people want to try it the next day, when they would have to pay four tokens per ride but could go for 10 minutes. The crowds were lined up all day. Nelson was beaming the entire time, giving a history of the invention, and the history of boats, and the history of all things that floated, to people standing on shore while passengers took the Moccasin out.

At one point, I glanced across the creek and saw Max. He was watching the crowds line up to try Nelson's invention, stroking his chin as if he had a beard. Bettertown was noticeably quiet, and it appeared that the tide had turned. Kidsboro was the place to be on this day.

But I had seen that look in Max's eyes before. He was plotting something.

5

THE WALL

I
WAS ON THE
way out of my real house, heading toward Kidsboro, when my mom stopped me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I followed her into the living room, and she grabbed a cup of coffee off of the end table. The fingers that held the handle shook slightly, and the coffee jostled back and forth in the cup.

“What's the matter, Mom?” I asked.

“Sit down,” she said, taking a sip and then placing the cup back on the end table. She paced back and forth.

“It's your father. He may be looking for us.”

When I was eight years old, my mother and I left our house in California in the middle of the night to escape my abusive, alcoholic father. An abuse center helped us start our lives over. We changed our names and moved to Odyssey, where we'd been ever since. We didn't tell anyone in California where we'd gone. My father was a dangerous, violent man, and we knew that when he discovered we were gone, he would be furious.

For several years now, we had been able to hide from him, but then we discovered a chink in the armor. An old friend of mine (well, pretty much an old enemy of mine) from California had found me and was threatening to blow our cover. His name was Jake, and he would be visiting his grandmother every summer in Odyssey. Because it was now wintertime, Jake was back in California. So, if he was able to communicate with my father, he might have told him where we were. Jake had been mad at me for years for turning him in for possession of a weapon. He'd had to go to a juvenile detention center, and I was sure he blamed me. I didn't doubt that he wouldn't think twice about putting my mom and me in danger, so my mother's news wasn't all that surprising.

“Mr. Henson called me today,” she said. Mr. Henson was one of the agents who was assigned to keep us hidden. “Your father's been traveling. He hasn't moved anywhere, settled down in a house, or anything. He's just driving around the country, asking lots of questions.”

“Does Mr. Henson think he's gotten any clues?”

“No, not yet. He's been going to all the obvious places. Like Louisiana.” My mom was from Louisiana originally, and her family was still there. This probably meant Jake hadn't told him anything yet. “So, Mr. Henson doesn't think your dad has any leads.”

“Did you tell Mr. Henson about Jake?”

“Yes,” she said. “He knows about Jake. He can't tell if Jake is a threat or not. But he'll have someone keep an eye on him.”