CHAPTER 14

AFTER HIS MOM WENT BACK TO WORK, Hudson finished rinsing the dinner dishes in a weirdly quiet kitchen. Mom was really grateful for the job at Rolling Meadows City Hall. So when they needed a little extra help on Tuesday nights for the city council meeting, she never complained. But Hudson did enough griping for both of them.

Why had he made such a big deal about it? Somebody named Erin was on vacation and Mom was covering . . . and totally stressed. Along with a million other duties, apparently Erin recorded all the city council meetings and broadcast them live on cable Channel 6. Mom had watched over Erin’s shoulder for the first couple of meetings, and now she was on her own.

City Hall was decent about the whole thing and let Mom bring Lizzy. And when Lizzy was gone, the house got really quiet.

Hudson swung open the fridge and poked around for something to snack on. Not that he was hungry, but what did hunger have to do with snacking?

His phone rang —and he checked the screen as he connected. Mom.

She started talking before Hudson could say hello.

“Hudson, how’s your homework situation?” There was no hiding the desperation in her voice.

“Almost done. What’s wrong?”

“I’m having some trouble with the setup,” she whispered. “Dad won’t be home from work for hours. Can you ride over and help me out?”

Hudson slipped into his shoes. “On my way. Should I bring anything?”

“Just pray I get this right. And hurry.”

Hudson broke the biking speed record to City Hall. The lot was already half full when he skidded to a stop and slapped the lock in place. He took the steps to the second floor two at a time and jogged past the mayor’s office.

As he approached, Mom dashed out of the studio with Lizzy. “I can’t get one of the cameras up.” The studio looked like a mini NASA mission control center. Eight monitors lined a large curved table with two chairs. One of the monitors showed nothing but static.

Mom held up a sheet of paper. “Erin left me really good instructions, and I followed them to the letter.”

Hudson nodded. “Let’s run through them again.”

“The meeting starts in ten minutes.”

So much for the methodical approach. “Show me the camera.”

Lizzy groaned. “I’ll stay here. I can’t bear to watch Hudson mess this up.”

Hudson followed Mom to the camera in the adjoining city council chambers. He unscrewed the cable connector and reseated it. “Check it now.”

She disappeared out the doorway and into the hall.

The mayor was standing at the front of the room, talking with several other suits but keeping an eye on Hudson. The guy didn’t miss much.

Hudson pointed at the camera.

The mayor smiled like he understood.

“Hudson.” Mom’s voice. She flashed him a double thumbs-up sign from the doorway. Don’t touch it, she mouthed.

Hudson stood to one side as more people entered the room, and then ducked out as soon as he got a break in traffic. Mom was already seated in one of the studio chairs. Lizzy sat reading on the floor next to a massive rack of computers and hard drives.

Mom pointed at the monitor —giving a clear view of the mayor’s spot at the front of the chambers. “You’re a genius, Hudson.”

Lizzy looked up from her book. “Hyperbole.”

Hudson ignored her. “The cord should be replaced.”

“Erin will be gone one more week,” Mom said. “Think it will hold out until then?”

Hudson shrugged. “Do you want to take that chance?”

“Definitely not. But right now I’ve got to get through tonight.” She busied herself at the small control console.

“I’ll stick around to make sure it stays up,” Hudson said. “How else can I help?”

Mom kept her eyes on the monitors. “How would you like to put a message on the Rolling Meadows sign?”

“The big digital one out front . . . along Kirchoff Road?”

Mom nodded. “Erin had all the messages for the next two weeks programmed in, but then the mayor gave me this.” She pointed to a scrap of paper on the corner of the desk. “He needs it posted for tomorrow morning.”

Hudson slid into the cushioned seat next to her and skimmed the messages. How hard could it be?

Mom ran through what she knew about the sign, which wasn’t much. The sign had its own dedicated keyboard and computer program.

“All I know is that there are special commands you have to key in to make the messages scroll across the message center.” She handed him a sheet with coding symbols.

“Okay . . .” He studied the sheet. “Let me just work with this a little.”

She kept her eyes on the monitors. “If you get this, I’ll make spaghetti for dinner tomorrow.”

“And chocolate milk?”

Mom laughed, but she still sounded pretty nervous. “Definitely. Oh” —she tapped the monitor —“here we go.”

Hudson glanced over at the monitors just as the meeting began. All cameras working. Mom was off to a good start.

He pulled up the program and studied the cheat sheet with various commands and symbols that made the message scroll or dissolve, or appear with other special effects on the screen. “Do what you need to do, Mom. Let me worry about this.” He glanced over. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn’t even answer him.

Twenty minutes later he had the new messages typed in and programmed to appear on the sign at 6:00 a.m. Mom still sat forward in her chair, but she looked way more relaxed.

“Got it, Mom.” He angled his monitor her way. “Wanna double-check this?”

She leaned over and gave him a hug. “You’re a sweetheart. You’re making me look good to the boss —and that’s job security.”

A job she never wanted, but needed really bad. Mom focused on the control console again, and Hudson’s mind drifted back to the incident in the school lunchroom.

“You okay?”

Mom was watching him. That faint but unmistakable look of parental concern.

He forced a smile. “You’ve got a show to run here. I’m fine.” This was no time to be dumping all that on her.

“How was school today?”

She was on to him. It was like she was working through Erin’s checklist again, but this time it was Mom’s own list to troubleshoot Hudson.

“Good.”

She didn’t look convinced.

If he didn’t give her something, she’d keep asking questions until he spilled about the encounter with Zattora. Then she’d forget all about the city council meeting, mess up somehow, and it would be his fault. “I sat at lunch with a guy. I like him.”

Mom’s face brightened. “You made a friend?”

Hudson held up both hands. “Don’t jump the gun, Mom.” No sense telling her that Pancake ditched him after school. “We talked —and that was more than anyone else has done. There was a girl at the table too.”

“You made two friends!”

“We’ll see. Tomorrow.”

Mom reached over and squeezed his arm. Was she actually tearing up?

Mom looked relaxed. Happy. She worked her way down Erin’s list and completed the recording and broadcasting of the meeting without another hitch. He and Lizzy helped put everything away and lock up the studio. The best thing was that the busyness kept him distracted. He didn’t even think about Wolfe or Zattora until the bike ride home.

Hudson finished his homework and headed to bed early. Not that he was tired. He just needed time to think without Mom asking him if he was okay every ten minutes. He’d already caught her studying him a couple times. Like she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her.

Not that he wouldn’t tell her. But she wanted to homeschool Lizzy and him —probably as much as Hudson wished she could. And if she really knew what happened today, she’d feel horrible. There was nothing she could do to change the situation, so why make her feel more guilty?

He lay on the top bunk, the place he went to think and pray. It was probably silly, but he felt a tiny bit closer to God here. The bunk bed had been Mom’s idea when they moved to Rolling Meadows. She was so sure he’d need it —what with all the friends he’d be making. And she wanted to make it easy for them to stay over. Another plan that hadn’t worked out so well.

He rolled onto his side. Framed posters from two of his dad’s favorite adventure movies filled the wall space on each side of the window. Raiders of the Lost Ark. Star Wars. Indiana Jones cracking his whip. Luke Skywalker with his light saber. Guys who didn’t let others push them —or anybody else —around. They made it look easy.

Hudson had made a stand though, hadn’t he?

A tap on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Had to be Mom. Lizzy wouldn’t knock. “Come in.”

“I just wanted to say thanks again,” she said.

More likely she was following her intuition thing. Sniffing out something that didn’t smell right.

“It was only the connection,” Hudson said.

She smiled, but her eyes flitted down to the empty lower bunk.

Nuts. He should have jumped down before she came in.

“Something on your mind?”

Okay. He knew exactly how this would go unless he derailed her train of thought. “There was a pop quiz today. I think I did okay. But I have a feeling there’ll be another one tomorrow. A big one.” Not an outright lie. But still, he felt that twinge of conscience.

Mom smiled. “You’ve always done well under pressure.” She tousled his hair. “Talk to God about it. You’ll do fine.”

Deceiving a parent could be so easy. Living with it afterwards was the hard part. For all Mom did for him —for how much she loved him —she deserved better than that.

“So you made a new friend or two today?” she asked. The way she said new sounded funny, like he was adding one more friend to a long list.

The jury was still out on whether or not Pancake and Maggie would be friends, but he’d definitely made a bunch of new enemies. He wasn’t sure he’d call that progress. “We’ll see. I hope so.”

“Invite him over soon.” She looked at his empty bunk again, then back at him, one eyebrow raised. “Anything else on your mind?”

How did she do that? He hopped down from the high bunk, and crawled into his spot on the lower one. “Like what, Mom? Is something wrong?” A cheap trick, but one he learned from Mom. Answer a question with one of your own. Shift the focus.

“No —nothing’s wrong,” she said.

“Dad’s okay?”

“Yes —just working late.”

She looked distracted now. His little tactic was usually effective. Mainly because Mom trusted him. Which made him feel worse. But he still wasn’t ready to tell her the whole story.

“Wish he was home,” Hudson said. And that was the honest truth. Would he have told his dad what happened? Maybe. Maybe not. But right now he had to keep Mom off the scent. “If I’m still awake when he gets here, tell him to stop in and say good night.”

She smiled. “I’ll do that. Sleep tight.”

His little diversion worked. She kissed the top of his head, and a moment later the room was dark. Hudson was alone with his thoughts. Then again he wasn’t alone. Zattora was there. Skirt too. And Wolfe —and the whole pack with him. He saw their faces as clearly as if they were standing around his bunk. Heard Wolfe’s voice replaying in his head. We’re not done, Freak Show.

They definitely weren’t finished. But what could Hudson do? There were too many of them.

The key was to sketch out some scenarios —and how he’d react to them. Hudson pictured their actions in his mind. The name-calling. Threats. Would they try to push him around? How would he handle that?

He mulled that one over. He didn’t have a light saber or a whip. Nothing to even the odds. So he had to play it smart —and hope it would be enough.