Brain That Wouldn't Obey! (2 page)

“It's gonna do it,” Mike cried out. “Everyone, prepare to hear radio!” The speaker hummed. It squealed.

Eeeee!
Everyone smacked their hands over their ears and winced at the high-pitched squeaking!

Mike twisted the radio dials. “It's coming!”

Just then, Mrs. Carbonese shuffled over. She held a little camera in front of her face. “Everybody—smile!”

FLASH!

The burst of light from the flash seemed to shoot right at the potato, and for an instant the wires glowed white, then red, then blue!

Mike blinked at the bright flash.

“My eyes! My eyes! Hey, watch that camera, lady! You trying to blind me?”

Everyone went quiet.

Mrs. Carbonese's face dropped.

Her camera dropped.

She pointed a sharp quivering finger at Mike, nearly sticking it up his nose. “This boy said rude words to me!” Then she fumbled for her police whistle and blew hard.

Woooooooo!

Everyone turned to Mike and frowned.

Mike turned to his potato and frowned.

3

The Power to Control the Mind!

“I
t wasn't me,” cried Mike, pointing to his table. “It was him. The potato, the radio, Potadio!”

“Don't yodel at me, rude boy,” cried Mrs. Carbonese. Then she picked up her camera and clacked off down the aisle in her high-heeled shoes.

Mr. Bell frowned deeply at Mike and moved on to another table with Rock Storm.

Mike turned to his friends. “Really, guys, it was him. The potato said that.”

Liz shook her head and sighed. “Sure, Mike.”

“He talked to me before, too,” Mike went on. “When I was washing him in the bathroom.”

“Right,” said Sean with a laugh. “And what did he say? ‘Don't eat me.'?”

Mike blinked at Sean. “Actually, he did.”

Jeff nodded. “Well, if I were a vegetable and somebody was washing me, that's probably what I would say. ‘Don't eat me.' You know?”

Liz made a face. “This is too weird for me. We're talking about a potato, okay? They don't talk. They can't think. They're just lumpy food.”

“Of course I'm in a grumpy mood,” Mrs. Carbonese snapped back over her shoulder. “That rude boy said bad words to me.” She stared at Mike as if she were going to blow her whistle again, then she clacked off between the tables.

Liz looked at her friends and tapped her ears. “Mrs. C. is sort of hard-of-hearing.”

“Now, let's get going, people!” Rock Storm boomed into the microphone. “I've got a call-in show in half an hour. Wouldn't want the world to miss that!”

Principal Bell, Miss Lieberman, and Mrs. Carbonese went up on the stage with the announcer.

“It's time for the big prize to be awarded,” Rock Storm said. “And I think we all agree that one project here today is quite an achievement.”

Mike glanced at the big catapult towering over all the other projects. He saw Sean smile at his sister, breathe on his fingernails, and buff them on his shirt. They're going to win, thought Mike.

His little Potadio didn't look so great anymore. He ran a finger across a gash in the potato's skin. “I wonder if it hurt when he got that.”

Liz turned. “Don't get weird on me, Mike. It's a vegetable, not a pal. But, listen, with my ears all stuffed up, I can't hear the awards. Let's get closer.” She walked over to the stage.

Mike just kept looking down at the Potadio. “We'll never win.”

Suddenly, tiny sparks began to shoot off the wires connecting the vegetable to the radio.

Zzzz! Sput! Sput!
The sparks flashed white, blue, and red and rippled along the wires.

The potato began to twitch on the table.

“Hey!” Mike leaned over. “What's going on?”

The radio's speaker began to crackle and hiss. Then it made a sound. “Pssssst!”

“Huh?” Mike put his ear to the speaker.

“Pssst!” the thing hissed again. Then the potato twitched a little. Then it spoke. “Hey, Mike!”

Mike's eyes went wide. His mouth fell open.

“Yeah, kid, I'm talking to you!” the potato hissed. “Your name's Mike, right?”

“Yeah … but … you're … you're … a …”

“Well, I'm not a grapefruit!” chuckled the potato. “Listen, thanks for zapping me with all these wires and stuff. And that camera flash gave me a jolt of juice, too. Boy, I feel like a million bucks!”

“Uh-huh,” said Mike, wondering if he was really hearing what he thought he was hearing.

“Hold on to your hat, Mikey boy,” the potato said. “And watch this!”

Mike saw the vegetable's rough, brown skin wrinkle all over then stretch out, as if the potato were taking a deep breath!

All of a sudden—
Krrippp!
—the gash on the top of the potato split open! Underneath the rough skin was a ripply pink blob. It pushed itself up and began to throb. It bulged. It stretched.

“Is that a …?” gasped Mike. “What is it?”

“Well, it's not my flavorful cheesy topping!” snorted the Potadio. “Now watch what happens when I do this!” The pink bulge began to turn purple as the potato groaned and twitched.

Suddenly, Rock Storm screamed out. “The winner is—is—is—ungh!—
the Potadio!”

“Whoa!” shrieked Mike, jumping up and down. “I can't believe it! This is so cool!”

At that moment, Principal Bell, Miss Lieberman, Rock Storm, and all the other teachers rushed down from the stage and crowded around Mike and his Potadio.

They slapped their ears and began to sing.

Oh, wondrous Potadio,

Not just a radio,

But so much more!

“What? What?” Liz stammered, squeezing through the crowd. “Everyone's gone Zoner!”

And the Zoners sang a second verse!

Oh, don't you nibble

This veg-a-tibble!

He's so much more!

The potato's pink bulge went purple again.

Suddenly, Rock Storm's head jerked back. He raised the microphone to his lips. “Yes, master!” he murmured. “At once, master!”

The announcer grabbed Liz's skateboard, jumped on, started the motor, and roared off through the tables.

“Hey!” cried Liz. “He's stealing my project!”

4

Going Shopping?

W
ithout another word Principal Bell snatched Potadio off Mike's table, raised him high in the air, and brought him up to the stage.

He's so much more!
everyone sang.

“This is getting weird,” said Mike.

“Weird is the word,” cried Liz. “I'm going after Rock Storm. And you're coming with me!”

Mike paused. “But my Potadio …”

Liz dragged him to the door. “Your dumb potato will be fine, Mike. Let's go!”

“You probably shouldn't call him dumb,” mumbled Mike, running after Liz. “He talks.”

When they got outside, Rock Storm was racing down School Road toward Main Street. “Yes, master,” he droned. “I will, master!”

He rode Liz's skateboard as if he were in a daze, zigzagging on and off the sidewalk.

Liz looked back over the top of the school at the WYRD radio tower. She pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket and wiped her nose. “It doesn't look like he's going back to WYRD.”

The tall blond radio announcer with the big voice shot across Main Street. He jumped up onto the sidewalk on the other side. Then he jerked around and stared behind him.

Liz blew her nose hard.

“Duck!” said Mike.

Liz frowned. “That's not nice. I have a cold.”

“No, I mean get down!” Mike pulled Liz behind a newspaper stand and peeked over.

Rock Storm scanned the street and slipped into Pay & G'way, Grover's Mill's grocery store.

“He's going shopping,” Mike said.

A few moments later, Rock Storm was out of the store and rolling back across the street. He carried a brown grocery bag. “Now, master, now!” he kept murmuring.

“Who's he talking to?” said Liz.

The announcer stumbled up the WYRD steps and disappeared behind the big glass doors.

“What do you think?” said Mike. “Maybe he's just out of Wheat-O cereal and needs more.”

A moment later—
Krrzzzzz!
The reception dish on top of the WYRD building began to turn. Jagged sparks, almost like lightning, shot off it.

“Something's going on in there,” said Liz. She trotted up the steps, pulled open the doors, and darted inside the building. “And I want my Motorboard back. Even if it didn't win a prize.”

Inside, a hissing, buzzing sound filled the air.

“It's coming from down there,” Mike whispered. He pointed to a room at the end of a hall. A strange, blue glow came from the doorway. Sparks sputtered and flew out the door.

“This is creepy,” whispered Liz. “It's not normal. It's … weird science.”

Mike knew exactly what she meant. He felt a twinge of something when he saw those sparks. They reminded him of his own science project.

They crept up to the room and peeked inside.

Rock Storm was babbling to himself as he fiddled over the big control board in front of him. He was bathed in a strange blue light.

Krrrzz!
Sparks flew up all around him.

“Master,” the man droned. “Your plan is working!” Rock Storm didn't even notice that there were two kids in the room with him.

Mike edged behind the announcer and peered around him. What he saw shocked him.

Potatoes! A dozen dusty brown spuds, sparking and sputtering and giving off a blue glow.

Wires ran from the potatoes straight into the control board and up to the radio tower broadcasting signals on top of the building.

Liz nudged Mike. “What's going on here?”

Mike frowned. “The potatoes. I think they're … they're … doing radio stuff?”

Bong!
the clock on the Double Dunk Donut Den next door chimed the hour.

Sssss!
the big pan on Usher's House of Pancakes across the street hissed the hour.

Rock Storm, his face blue in the glow of the sparking potatoes, flipped a switch on the control board. Then he slumped down in his chair.

“Welcome to the WYRD call-in hour,” he droned. “Hello, caller. You're on the air.”

A voice crackled from the speaker across the room. “Well, snap my suspenders and holler at my hogs!” said the voice. “My name's Farmer Tom. People call me Farmer Tom ‘cause I'm a farmer, don't ya know!”

“And the reason for your call?” Storm droned.

“Well, I'm out in my field a minute ago, and—boom! The dirt flies up all around me and them critters just sorta rolled outta the ground and took off across my field! Hundreds of 'em.”

Rock Storm just stared. Then his neck began to twitch, and his eyes started rolling around.

“Um … what critters, sir?” Mike said into the radio microphone.

“Why taters! Spuds! Po-ta-toes!” answered the voice of Farmer Tom. “Thousands of 'em.”

Liz shot a look at Mike. She leaned into the microphone. “And can you tell us where the potatoes went?”

“That-a-way!” the farmer's voice answered.

“This is radio, sir,” said Mike. “We can't see where you are pointing.”

“Well, bust my laces and string my fiddle!” Farmer Tom yodeled. “Over yonder! There! Straight to Grover's Mill!”

5

School Daze

C
lank!
The microphone slid from Mike's hand and hit the control board. A shiver of fear ran down his neck. “Potatoes? Coming here?”

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed Mike by the shoulders. “Master says, humans are bad!”

“Whoa!” yelled Mike. He tried to twist out of Rock Storm's grasp, but the announcer held tight. He swung Mike around and lifted him off the ground. Storm rolled his eyes, stuck his tongue in and out, and began blinking really fast. Really really fast.

“He's looking weird at me!” cried Mike, his feet dangling below him. “I don't like it!”

In a flash, Liz yanked a potato from the control board and pitched it hard at the announcer.

“No!” screamed Rock Storm. He dropped Mike and caught the potato. He began to pet it.

“We're outta here!” cried Liz. She grabbed Mike, found her skateboard, and shot out the door. A second later they were on Main Street.

“What was that all about?” gasped Mike. Then he came to a dead stop. He looked down the street between WYRD and the Double Dunk Donut Den. Mike could see beyond the town to the desert spreading out to the west.

He had seen this same scene every morning from his school bus.

But something was different about it this time.

“Liz, look!” Mike pointed out to the flat brown distance. Dozens of little spirals of dust were coming from the west. “They're coming! Farmer Tom was right, potatoes are coming this way!”

The dust spirals grew into a dark cloud.

KRRZZZ!
Wild sparks sputtered and shot off the radio tower and into the air.

“That's it!” cried Mike. “Radio waves. Just like my Potadio. It all makes sense.”

“Not to me,” said Liz, beginning to run.

“Rock Storm hooked the potatoes up to the broadcast tower,” Mike began, keeping up with her. “Just like I hooked my potato up to the radio. My potato came alive. And so did these potatoes! They sent a signal to every other potato in the world. And they're all coming here!”

“Oh, right. That makes perfect sense,” Liz said, as she tore around the corner of School Road. “Potatoes talking and sending signals? Sure. I mean this is the Zone, after all. And did your potato tell you why this is happening?”

“No, but I have a feeling we'll find out,” Mike said. “Once we get back to school.”

And something told Mike that what they would find at school would definitely not be good. The minute the two kids slammed through the school doors, Mike knew he was right.