The New Champion (19 page)

He surveyed the signs from where he was standing.
FRANK'S FRANKS
. No.
JAKE SANTANGELO'S GREEN GROCERY
. Lots of letters, but none in a row.
SAM STUART'S SAUSAGES & SUCH
. Yes!

Sam's stall had four choices:

 

Hot dogs

Polish sausage

Bratwurst

Salami

 

Cameron tossed the package of bratwurst into his tote.

He ruled out Ethel Toffel's Cakes 'n' Bakes, then moved around to another row of stalls. Not Fernando's Foods, but yes to Raj Klondike's Condiments. His choices:

 

Orange marmalade

Prickly pear jelly

Litchi jam

Persimmon puree

 

In went the litchi jam and—

He looked at the space where the jam used to be. A slip of paper. “Litchi jam: $1.00–$2.00.”

He ran back to the sausage shop. The price slip was there. “Bratwurst: $4.00–$5.00.”

Couldn't they be more specific? He'd figure that out later. He bypassed Paul's Poultry, Super Spicy Spices, and Candies by Candy. But he stopped at B.C. Dinners. His choices:

 

Chicken fricassee

Beef goulash

Turkey hash

Ham and beans

 

In went the beef goulash and the price tag. “Beef goulash: $3.00–$4.00.”

Next stop, Lehi Juarez's Tex-Mex.

 

Poblano pepper poppers

Toasty tostadas

Hot tamales

Fresh frijoles

 

He popped in the poppers and their $2.00–$3.00 price, then sprinted back to his room.

He plopped the tote on the desk and dug out the price tags. How much should he add to Zeb's account? How much should he enter into the GollyReader? He laid out the price tags in order of cost. $1.00–$2.00. $2.00–$3.00. $3.00–$4.00. $4.00–$5.00. The cost was anywhere from $10 to $14. Did Uncle Zeb pay whatever he wanted? If only it were that easy. If only there weren't penalties involved.

Had the instructions said anything other than “appropriate prices”? No.

What would be appropriate for bratwurst? “Just tell me how much,” he said into the air. He turned the slips over in case he'd missed something, but they were blank on the back.

A door slammed. Either someone had just left or someone had come out. Or maybe . . .

Was Jig heading for the trunks? Were the prices in the trunks? Should he look?

No. He wasn't desperate. Yet. Cameron took a deep breath. He needed to slow down, find the pattern. He'd already figured out the appropriate stalls and appropriate foods. And there was that word again. “Appropriate.” Appropriate prices. So all the groceries had three letters in order and all the stall names had three letters in order. And . . .

That had to be it! Appropriate prices. Three numbers in order. He wrote those down:

 

$1.23

  2.34

  3.45

  
4.56

$11.58

 

Was that it? Was there any other way to look at it? His mind was a total blank. Fine.

He hit the one. One again. Decimal point. Five. Eight. He paused. He could lose a minute by sitting and staring or he could hit Enter and see if he was right. He hit Enter.

The screen went blank. The door opened behind him.

Cameron raised his hands in victory. But then the door closed.

C
ameron's face went cold. Had he lost? He tried the door. Still locked. Back to the desk. Hit the GollyReader. Dark.

The door clicked. Cameron turned. Bill.

“Is this is it?” Cameron asked. “Time to say good-bye?”

“Yep. Good-bye to the market. Good-bye to bratwurst. And hello to the lounge.”

“Huh?”

“I could have fun tormenting you, but nah.” Bill laughed. “There was someone else coming through, so we locked you back in until the coast was clear.”

“I got it right?”

Bill slapped him on the back. “You're even first. Hope you don't mind being alone in the lounge. This might take a while.”

Alone was fine. Alone was quiet. Alone, he could smell himself. He went into the bathroom. Its closet was stocked with stacks of towels and toothbrushes, hairbrushes and hair spray, deodorants and colognes. And it had a mirror.

He was a sweaty mess. Cameron turned the water on full force, doused his head, and practically drenched his whole Gollywhopper shirt. He took it off and tried to towel-dry it. While he was half undressed, he soaped up one of the smaller towels and rubbed down his arms and torso. He rinsed, dried, sprayed on deodorant, then put his slightly smelly shirt back on.

Maybe some cologne? He'd never worn any before. He sprayed some onto a towel and took a whiff. Whew! Um, no. He sprayed a different one. Better, but if he smelled like someone else, he might play like someone else. And he was doing pretty well with his own smells. Besides, he didn't need Jig calling him Cologne Boy.

He swished around a swig of mouthwash, ran his fingers through his hair like he did every morning, and spit. Then he got out another small towel, cleaned the splattered water—his mom would be proud—and headed back out.

Still deserted. But then a chair swiveled toward him. Clio. “And I thought girls took forever in the bathroom.”

Cameron looked around. “There are two. You could have—”

She laughed. “Just kidding, Cameron. I've been here only a minute. But you look better.”

How'd he look before?

She laughed some more. “You don't say much, but your face says everything. You didn't look horrible before. Just a little wild.”

“You look the same. How do you stay so calm?”

“Calm?” She took in a breath. “If you X-rayed my insides, you'd see a party of swords and bullets and tornados. But if I sit here and breathe and drum on my leg and watch something mindless and distracting, the tornados might downgrade from EF-fives to EF-twos.”

So she wasn't perfect.

“Do you need to talk,” said Clio, “or are you okay if I put on my headphones?”

“I'm good.”

“You are.” She smiled like she meant it and turned away.

Cameron tried a mindless TV rerun himself. The episode finished, and soon after the next one started, in came Estella.

She looked around, eyes wide, neck craning like she didn't know if she was first or last.

Time to put her out of her misery. Cameron stood.

“Who else?” she said, her eyes still big.

Cameron spun Jig's empty chair around.

Her eyes got even bigger. “He's not here? I beat him?” She danced Cameron around.

He was so glad for the deodorant.

Clio came out of her cocoon and joined in their celebration.

The door banged open. Bill pushed Jig through, then held him at arm's length with one hand and slammed the door behind them with the other. “And now the cameras can't see you, Jig. So, calmly. What do you want to know?”

“The trunks weren't in our conference room. How was I supposed to know where they were? And when I finally found them, what'd they have? Money and games. Where were the real price tags? Not that price range junk. Not—”

It was like Jig finally realized Clio and Cameron were there. “What are you looking at? This little party of yours won't last. They're gonna figure out they forgot to give me the prices.”

Bill put a hand on his shoulder, but Jig threw it off.

Clio walked up to him. “Jig.”

He stared past her.

“You've been so cool,” she said. “You really want to go out like this? You want the world to see you ranting like a maniac?”

His neck twitched.

“We didn't need the trunks, Jig,” she said. “We had to figure out that the prices went one, two, three like the words went a, b, c.”

He dropped into Clio's chair and put his head in his hands. “I psyched myself out,” he said. “
You
were supposed to hunt for the trunks.
I
was supposed to figure it out. I needed a break. I was only going to look for a minute.” He shook his head. “How did someone like me believe my own mess of manure?” He kept muttering, and they all backed away.

Bill gave him a couple of minutes, then came up to him. “Ready to face the cameras?”

Jig signaled he needed another minute, rocked his head back and forth, circled it a few times, planted a smile, and stood. “It's been real.” He rushed out the door.

Bill followed but came right back in. “How much time do you need, Estella? We can't give you a lot, but would fifteen minutes do it?”

“I can go right now,” she said, “but five minutes would be great.”

“You got it.”

She headed to the bathrooms and came out a few minutes later. “If that had a shower, I'd move in. Did you see the closet? It has everything.” She smelled her wrist. “Mmm. I've gotta get me some of this.”

“Some of what?” Bill said, popping his head back in the door.

“The perfume. The one with the spiraly top.”

Bill walked into the bathroom, then came out holding a bottle. “This one?”

Estella nodded.

“Yours!” He put it on a table. “It'll be here when you're all done. But now, time to see what's next.”

“You already know what it is, Bill,” said Estella. “Give us a clue?”

“Sit,” he said, “and I'll give you the entire challenge.”

They stared at him, waiting. The room moved, but he stayed silent.

“You really thought—” The room stopped. “I meant I'd
take
you to the challenge.” Bill opened the door to a hall with plain walls. “Things are a little different this time,” he said, positioning them at their doors. “And that's all, except good luck! You may need it.”

Three eerie musical notes sounded. Cameron's door opened to a small room with a chair, clothes and gear, a set of double doors, and the challenge card on a table.

 

DIAMOND VALLEY DEMONS

(New from GollyVideo)

 

The Demons have stolen all the diamonds, the lifeblood of Diamond Valley. Without the magical gems, crops are failing, structures are disintegrating, floods follow droughts, stones turn to dust, and the good people of Diamond Valley are fading fast. Because you discovered one of the last remaining DiamondSabres, it's your charge to reclaim five pounds of diamonds and restore life to this vital city.

Before you battle:

 

1. GEAR UP. Don the DemonFighter suit, shoes, and goggles. Only then may you enter.

2. CARRY THEM. Your GatherBag and DiamondSabre are the only two battle items you may bring into your mission.

3. WEIGH THEM. Your scale is in the Battle Antechamber. WARNING: Before you enter, you must fully remove every bit of battle gear. If the scale shows you have not collected enough diamonds, reenter Diamond Valley, gear up again, and finish your task. Bring all the diamonds you've collected with you. (They are not safe in the Battle Antechamber.)

Follow all directions or stiff penalties will apply. Good luck!

 

Cameron's muscles revved for action. He grabbed the suit from its hook and the boots from the floor. He pulled off his shoes, stepped into the one-piece DemonFighter suit, and fastened the Velcro tabs.

The boots were exactly his size. How'd they know? Didn't matter. He adjusted the goggles over his eyes and felt like a giant fly. How weird did he look? Didn't matter, either. He hung the cross-body GatherBag over his right shoulder so it hung on his left hip.

Now for the DiamondSabre. It had some heft to it, but it wasn't unwieldy. He could reach two of its three buttons with the fingers of his right hand, but he'd need to use his left to press the third. None of them worked. Maybe they'd activate once he got inside. He took one last look at the instructions. He was geared up. He had his two battle items. Time to get the diamonds.

He pushed through the double doors, but he hadn't expected this. The room was enormous. The skies were ominous. The landscape was ugly and parched, a real wasteland. A red cloud flew at him; it seemed so real he felt he could touch it and breathe it. These had to be 3-D goggles. And that had to be a Demon.

In came another Demon cloud and another. He lifted his sword to slice through the next one, but it turned and flew off. Wimp.

Time to see what these buttons did. The first let out a vibrating electrical bolt. The second—the Illuminator button—produced a light. He pointed it toward a boulder, and it illuminated a diamond-shaped mark. Diamonds underneath? He ran to lift the boulder, but a Demon charged. He raised the sword, but the Demon kept coming. He hit the first button and sent a jolt of electricity through the red cloud. It vaporized, but four more took its place.

He sent out another jolt. Pow! Another. Pow! Pow! Pow! He could advance again, but a giant green Demon swooped in and perched on the boulder.

Cameron pushed the button. The Green Demon laughed. Cameron tried to slice through it with his DiamondSabre. The sword bounced off the creature.

The third button! It sent out blue chomping light rays that surrounded the Green Demon and ate it to bits. A window in the Sabre's handle flashed a message: “You have two Light Brigades remaining.”

He needed to be careful with those. He lifted the boulder and grabbed for the small pile of diamonds underneath, but more red clouds got in his face. He jolted eight away; then the Light Brigade button flashed once. Had he earned more? Next time he met a Green Demon, he'd find out.

He collected the diamonds under the rock and looked up. The ominous sky wasn't as dark. A few flowers had sprouted in the distance. “More diamonds!” he called. “Bring on the Demons!”

Two flew in his face. Pow! Pow! They scattered, and he pointed the Illuminator at a tree stump. The diamond symbol! Another Green Demon flew to guard it. What if he still had only two Light Brigades left? By the weight of his GatherBag, it would take more than three little mounds of diamonds to win this challenge.

Maybe there was another way to lure the Green Demon off the stump. He charged it. Poked it. Prodded it. Speared it. Screamed at it. Illuminated it. He was about to spit at it, but that wouldn't work. It was immune to everything except the Light Brigade. He hit the third button. The Light Brigade vaporized it. The Sabre flashed the same message: “You have two Light Brigades remaining.”

“All right!” He
had
gained a Light Brigade by slaying the Red Demons.

How many would it take, though? He slew three more. The button didn't flash. Two more. Nothing. Another five. Flash! Pow! Pow! Pow! He fought off ten more. Flash! He had earned two more Light Brigades!

He ran at a Green Demon laughing at him from a garbage heap. “Laugh all you want, buddy. In a few seconds you won't have a mouth.” He charged at it with the Light Brigade. Gone! “You have three Light Brigades remaining,” flashed the message on his sword.

Yes! Cameron scooped up the diamonds. Fought more red guys. Gathered diamonds from the flower patch, from the wheelbarrow, from the bird's nest. The sky was now a light gray. How bright did it need to get before he had collected five pounds?

What did five pounds feel like? Somewhere between a baseball and a bowling ball, but that was no help. The bag didn't feel heavy enough anyway, and the sky was still gray. He flashed the Illuminator. There, in the cave! Got 'em! There, in the pond! That Green Demon wouldn't leave. He was out of Light Brigades.