CHAPTER 8

“C’mon, you stupid thing!” Rube shouted. Bertha whimpered in the corner. “Not you, girl. You’re fine. It’s this stupid, freakin’ machine that’s the problem.”

With Con-Con fast approaching, Rube had fallen into his old summer patterns. Sleep? What’s that? The only thing that mattered was the doing. Even though he still didn’t know what kind of machine he wanted to make. Would he indulge his fantasies or go for something practical? What about something bizarre and shocking? He had to create something spectacular that would WOW the crowd, but the selection process had drained him. Rube’s faith was in the process of dying.

Why won’t you work!?

With his dad still away on business, the whole house had become Rube’s workshop and trash receptacle. Empty potato chip bags littered the couch. Machine parts were spread out across the floor in small piles. There were science journals, comic books, and microwave dinner bowls piled high on the coffee table. The place was certifiably filthy. Rube had successfully kept Grandma Etta away by visiting her twice a day instead of the other way around. If she only knew. As for Rube’s friends, only Zach had been over. They’d become builder buddies, sharing tips and helping each other work out various machine-related issues. Zach was sharp and had a knack for locating weak points. When it came to his own machines, Zach kept his cards close to his vest. I get it. He’s insecure. He’ll share the good stuff with me when the time is right. In the interim, Rube did his best to encourage Zach, sharing ideas and helping him come up with solutions to whatever problems he mentioned he was having. Zach didn’t talk much about personal stuff. He mostly focused on whatever Rube was doing. What can I say? It feels nice to be admired. But there was something brewing with Zach back at home. His father was being extra hard on him about something. Rube wasn’t exactly sure of the situation and didn’t push Zach to talk about it. Building stuff kept their minds occupied, though neither of them had settled on what to make for Con-Con.

What if I try something new. . .?

Boob kept his distance from Rube, both socially and at school. They made small talk, but that was it. Zach’s presence had driven a strange wedge into their friendship. All of a sudden, he was everywhere, glued to Rube like they were old pals. At first, Boob chalked it up to “the machine thing.” Zach and Rube had something unique in common. Can’t get mad at that. But there were things about Zach that really irked Boob. Like the way he fake-smiled whenever Boob told a good joke. The stealing was a big issue, of course, but the way Zach always whispered in Rube’s ear really got on Boob’s nerves. It didn’t matter what he was whispering about. It was obvious to Boob that the only reason Zach was doing it was to get under his skin. Mission accomplished. In addition to Boob generally feeling left out of the loop, he also hadn’t been invited over to Rube’s house in a long while. Mostly he hung out at the Lair by himself, trying to repair some of its weaker bits. Which wasn’t so easy, since he had no clue what he was doing and didn’t feel like asking for help. As for Rube, he didn’t worry about his friendship with Boob one bit. Sure, he sensed things were a little off, but they’d been through stuff like this before. Once Con-Con was over, everything would bounce right back to normal. Why wouldn’t it? They were bonded for life. A petty disagreement wasn’t going to keep them apart. Boob wasn’t so sure about that.

What can I do to fix you?

DING-DONG!

A surprise guest had arrived, and Bertha’s ears were perky. The poor girl desperately needed a break from Rube’s endless stress spiral. Whenever Zach came over, Bertha hid herself in the closet. But now her senses told her she was in for a good time. She raced through the house, doing circles in the living room. Anyone—but Zach—could’ve walked in and she’d be happy. That included the mail carrier, who she despised. But when Rube opened the door, she was extra excited to see the person on the other side.

“Hey,” Pearl said, skateboard in hand. “Can I come in?”

Bertha leaped onto Pearl and gave her a boisterous welcome. She licked, barked, and panted her way into Pearl’s heart, just like she always did. It made Rube a little jealous.

“Upstairs,” he commanded. Bertha followed orders, whimpering up to her dog bed on the second floor. Pearl took her helmet off and sat it on top of her skateboard as Rube waved her inside with the energy of a sleepy toddler.

“Whoa,” Pearl said, stepping over a pile of parts. “I’m loving the mad scientist’s work space thing you’ve got going on. Your dad will really enjoy coming home to this.”

It was good to see his friend, but Rube really wasn’t in the mood for sarcasm. “Why are you here?” he asked, scratching his head.

“I came by to see if you needed anything like, you know, friendship. Since you’ve been avoiding me and Boob, I thought some company might lighten your mood. We’ve started calling you Rube-i-corn, since you’re a legendary creature rarely seen in the wild,” Pearl said, taking a seat. “I came up with that. Pretty proud of it.”

“It’s funny. You should be.”

“What if we got you out of your feelings and out of this house?”

Rube refused to sit down. “You’ve been avoiding me too. Just so you know. I’m surprised you found time to stop by, what with the Chess Team and Library Squad and, I don’t know, Plant Patrol.”

“Fine. You got me. I’m involved in a lot of extracurricular activities. But unlike you, I make time for my friends. Why don’t we walk down to Main Street and grab a cookie from Kandi’s Crunchateria? Some nice, warm chocolate chips sound good, right? My mom gave me a gift card, so we can get as much as we want.”

“I can’t. Zach might be coming over.”

“So, your new pal Zach gets to be on your team but your best friends don’t?”

“We’re not a team. He’s been helping me. I’ve been helping him.”

“Sounds like a team to me, but what do I know?” asked Pearl. “What else is new with you?”

That’s a loaded question. Rube wanted to tell her all the thoughts that were swimming around in his head, but he could barely sort them out most days. He’d become so focused on his goal that it didn’t matter if everything fell apart around him. Keep your eyes on the prize. He’d been waking up in the middle of the night, his heart beating out of his chest, unable to breathe. Waves of anxiousness kept him constantly on edge. He was starting to feel trapped again, like he did over the summer. But he couldn’t say any of that to Pearl. What good would it do? Sharing his fears and insecurities might alienate her, and he wasn’t about to risk that happening. What are you even talking about? You’ve already alienated her! Have you been listening to a word she said? Just suck it up and tell her the truth. Rube had become really good at mentally backing himself into a corner with no means of escape.

Any path he chose had its dangers. But he was the one who laid all the traps. Now he’d been presented an opportunity to come clean, which made him even more nervous. Making the wrong choice, revealing too much, could upend everything. Okay, now you’re being way overdramatic. Though Pearl was a good friend and a superb listener, he just wasn’t sure he was ready to pull the trigger. Once he started talking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. Explaining to Pearl that his affection for her had grown in a way he was still struggling to figure out? That was confusing enough for him. Telling her could be the thing that pushed her away completely. Ah. Yeah, that would be really bad, now that I think about it. Better to put up a shield and pretend like everything was A-OK. It’ll be fine.

“Plant Patrol has a nice ring to it, actually. Thanks for the suggestion. Davin and I have been doing research into biomes, greenhouses, and indoor farming. We’re proposing a total revamp of the school garden, but the only problem is finding the money to make it happen. I’ve been brainstorming ideas, though. A few local businesses might chip in, but only if we put promotional signs up that say stuff like ‘These radishes are sponsored by Megamarket.’ We’ll see. Oh! I picked up a box of flyers today to put all over school. My slogan is ‘Pearl has a plan!’ Catchy, right? Do you think I should dip into my savings and hire a skywriter, or would that be too much?”

Rube rolled his eyes and chuckled. “‘Pearl has a plan’? Sounds kind of lame. No offense. Who pays attention to that stuff, anyway?”

“The good ones. The ones that care. Running for student government is important. Our school is falling apart. We all need to band together and do something about it.”

“You really think you’re going to change things? Give me a break. You’re thirteen years old. No one listens to kids.”

“Then we’ll make them listen. If adults keep failing us, what other choice do we have? You should be helping me, you know. But instead you’re here, by yourself, being a sad boy. Which doesn’t do anyone any good.” Suddenly, Pearl’s expression changed as she quickly patted down all of her pockets. “I left the gift card on my dresser! Ugh, that’s so annoying.” She grumbled while considering an alternate plan. “Hmmmm. My older brother is working at the Sammich Shoppe tonight. Remember when we used to go there together? They’d cover the tables with paper and give us a cup of some janky old crayons. One time, you drew this crazy contraption, like a futuristic amusement park spaceship thingy. I’ve still got it somewhere.”

She kept it. “You . . . kept it?”

“You gave it to me. Of course I kept it. And now that you’re becoming Mr. Machine, who knows? Might be worth something one day. Anyway, my brother would probably give us a free plate of fries or something. Wanna go?”

CRASH! Trouble on the second floor. Rube and Pearl raced upstairs and found Bertha cheerfully chewing on one of Rube’s machines.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Why do you do this?!”

Pearl knelt down to assess the damage and sneak a quick pet. “I’ve never actually seen any of these machines you’ve been making. Very interesting. What was this one called?”

“The Fang Polisher. It brushes your teeth. Zach and I were working on it.”

“Groundbreaking. Or weird and pointless? We’ll find out soon enough.” Pearl’s words were like a knife in Rube’s heart. She stabbed him quick, twisted the thing a few times, pulled it out, and then plunged it back in for good measure. These are my dreams. Rube’s body sank. That’s when Pearl knew she’d made a mistake. Her words were meant as a lighthearted joke, but Rube didn’t hear them as a playful poke from a friend. She’d never seen him in such a sensitive place. There’s a first time for everything. “That wasn’t fair of me. You’re really passionate about making stuff. I can see that. But you haven’t shared this side of yourself before. I don’t know Rube Goldberg, Machine Maker. Show me.”

Rube bristled. Just show her. What’s the problem? “I don’t know.”

“Why not? This is what you love, right?” Pearl asked. “Look, I have a passion for baking. If you wanted to watch me make a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting so you could learn about baking, I’d make it happen.” She looked over the remnants of the Fang Polisher with a curious glint in her eye. “How does it work? Put it back together. Take me through the steps. I want to see what you see. Show off that talent.”

This feels like a trap. “This feels like a trap.”

Pearl laughed. “Man, you’re really something else, Goldberg. Fine, don’t show me. I’ll just go home . . .”

“Wait.” Rube sat down on the ground and began putting the machine back together, piece by piece. As he did so, he explained to Pearl how each part worked with the next. “I know this must be boring . . .”

“I’m not bored. It’s cool.” She’d never seen him take such care and consideration. This wasn’t just a hobby. This was Rube’s passion. “Can we test it now?” Pearl looked over at Bertha, who was sitting peacefully in the corner. “Want to test the Fang Polisher, girl?”

Why did you just do that?!

Roused by Pearl’s request, Bertha twirled across the room like a looney toon, wrecking Rube’s creation. Only after watching the color drain from his face did she realize that what she had done was bad. This is pointless. Rube fell back his bed and put his head in his hands.

“It’s only a temporary defeat.” Pearl sat down and put her hand on his shoulder. “Everything can be fixed.”

You don’t understand. Rube sat up and wiped his nose. “I want to be alone right now.”

“I feel you,” Pearl said. “But there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Rube launched himself off the bed and dashed downstairs.

“Okay . . .” Pearl looked at Bertha, who wasn’t sure what to make of Rube’s behavior. They followed him down the stairs together. “I’ll get out of your hair in a minute, but we need to talk about Boob.”

“Why? Does he need help removing the curse of Gladys the ghost girl?” Rube said with a snarky snicker.

“That’s not funny,” replied Pearl. “This curse thing is no joke. Two teachers found mysterious red splatter marks in their classrooms, and Principal Kim is trying to cover it up. I overheard him telling them not to say anything to anyone about it. Just because there’s no scientific explanation for paranormal activity, that doesn’t mean it’s not real. It means we just can’t prove it yet. Hopefully, nothing crazy will happen at Con-Con.”

Rube gulped. Hopefully?!

“And as for Boob, he really needs you right now.” Rube’s ears perked up, and his expression turned serious. “Things have been rough for him lately. Rougher than usual. Mike and Ike have been giving him a hard time when no one else is around. Cornering him after school, following him home, harassing him any chance they can get. It’s gotten bad.”

“No way. Those guys are total dopes, but I haven’t seen them doing that kind of stuff. Boob would have told me.”

“Just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

Suddenly, Rube remembered the curious bruise on Boob’s arm. “Then why did he come to you and not me? It doesn’t make any sense. Boob promised to tell me if people were pushing him around.”

“He tried to tell you. But you were too busy hanging out with Zach.”

Rube didn’t like hearing that one bit. It made him angry both at Pearl and at himself. How did I fail my best friend? But he already knew the answer. He simply didn’t want to admit it. This isn’t the time. I have too much on my plate right now. Rube’s heart started beating so fast, he patted his chest to calm it down. “Don’t start with me again!”

“I’m . . . not. Are you okay? It looks like you’re having a panic attack . . .”

“Look, I’m sorry you caught feelings, but don’t bring my best friend into your drama.” Oops. I don’t think I meant that? Rube had accidentally gone into attack mode. His words slipped out way harsher than they had when they were swimming around in his head. What’s worse was that Rube knew they were a hollow shield. He was the one with feelings. He was the one with drama. He’d gotten so worked up that his brain told him to turn the tables on Pearl. His brain was often very wrong.

“Feelings. Huh. If you say so,” Pearl said, folding her arms. She saw right through him. “But the only person here with drama is you. If you hadn’t pushed away your friends, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“You don’t understand,” Rube insisted. “Just leave. Go work on your campaign.”

Pearl nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you want. But before I go, you need to know something. Volunteering over the summer made me realize the kind of person that I want to be. I’m ready to use my gifts, share what I have, and give back to this community. So how about this? I’ll do me. You do you.”

“Fine.”

“Learn a lesson for once, Goldberg,” Pearl said.

Rube closed the door and lay down on the couch with Bertha cozy beside him. I really messed up. He grabbed his phone and called Boob. No answer. He texted “u there?” No response. Then he noticed a bug crawling around in the light fixture on the ceiling. Maybe I could make a machine that . . . no, never mind, not now . . . He called Zach to see if he was coming over. No answer. Then a text popped through. “Can’t hang 2 nite.” Welp, that answered that. What to do? What to do? Rube catapulted himself off the couch, scaring Bertha half to death, and ran up to the attic. He fished his mom’s old telescope out of a box and pointed its sight on the Haunted Hideaway. What are you looking for, exactly? The Professor doesn’t want you near him. Mystery solved. Let it go. But Rube couldn’t help himself. He was fascinated by the Professor’s existence and wanted to know more about him. After a few minutes of investigation, he spotted a quick flicker in an upstairs bedroom. But upon further inspection, it turned out to be a beam of scattered moonlight breaking through the waving tree limbs. This is dumb. Rube gave up and went back down to his perch on the couch, where Bertha nuzzled her snout under Rube’s chin and licked his face. Man, her breath stinks like dog butt.