“YOU HAVE AN hour to get cleaned up,” Andrew’s aide told him. “I’ll be back for you at six o’clock sharp.”
“Great,” Andrew said.
“I’ll knock when we’re ready to go,” the man said.
Andrew didn’t answer. He had picked up the remote for the television and was headed for the bed.
After his aide shut the door, Robert counted to sixty and then slipped out into the hallway. The elevator arrived right away. He stared at the advertisements playing on the elevator walls.
On one wall an old man with wrinkled lips and closed eyes smiled at him. “Dream Hat, a camera for your dreams,” the man sang.
On the other wall a woman’s hair was growing an inch per second. “With one dose you, too, can have floor-length hair,” the woman in the advertisement promised.
The elevator stopped, and Robert walked into the lobby.
The elders of Grace’s tribe had warned her about rooms like this, with luxuries like the mood-control ring next to the door.
“So you haven’t tried the mood ring?” Grace’s talkative aide was chattering away. “See, there are twenty different moods. If you push this button, the mood is Valentine’s Day Romantic.”
The aide pushed the button and sappy music played. Bright red hearts appeared on the window panels, but the lights in the room itself dimmed as if it were dusk indoors.
“Turn it off, okay?” Grace said.
“It’ll go off in a minute,” the aide said in a hurt voice. “Do you need anything?”
“No.” Grace sat down on the edge of the bed.
As the woman left, Grace watched her step to the side to avoid closing the door on her unnaturally long hair. Sick.
Grace sat in the reddish light, listening to violins.
She couldn’t believe how wrong modern people were. They didn’t know that a person’s mood came from the inside. She glared at the evil-looking ring.
Billy peered out the hotel window at the limo on the street below. It had to be waiting for them.
He peeked into the hall. The aides had all disappeared. He grabbed his backpack and snuck out into the hallway. If anybody saw him, so what? The flat-faced aide hadn’t told him to stay in the room, had he?
Billy walked down the stairway to avoid detection, opened a door that led to the lobby, and headed for the grand front entrance. When he reached the lobby, he noticed Robert, who was standing with his back to him in a corner. Who’s the guy Robert is talking to? Billy wondered.
“Everybody calls her Hot Sauce,” Billy overheard the stranger say to Robert as he walked by. Billy pushed his way through the revolving door, activating the exit pads. They played a few bars from the theme song of Why Didn’t You Tell Me You Liked Bananas? This was a famous Department of Entertainment holomovie that was supposed to teach little kids to count. Along with hundreds of other kids at the theater, Billy had counted and danced with holobananas.
Outside, the chilly late-October air hit Billy as he exited. The long black car was waiting quietly at the bottom of the stairs. Billy circled it. The license plates read SURVIVOR! The driver was slumped over the wheel.
Billy tapped on the window.
The driver looked up. Billy realized that he had gotten lucky. The man looked beaten down, as if he didn’t care about anything.
Billy smiled politely. “I’m one of the contestants. Mind if I put my backpack in the back?”
The driver shrugged.
Billy climbed into the backseat of the black limo.
The driver put his head back down on the wheel.
Billy unslung his backpack and opened a drawer. It was stocked with Billy’s dream foods: nuts, beef chips, Chocobombs, crackers, and health-food bars. Billy loaded the contents into his backpack. He emptied the other drawers until his backpack was stuffed. Now, where to hide the swollen backpack?
The limo clock read 5:50. Billy saw that the Secretary, trailed by assistants, was walking up the steps of the hotel. He worried about what she would do if she saw him wandering around outside. But if he got some time alone with her, Billy felt he might be able to impress her. If he was her favorite, maybe he’d have a better shot at being MVP. Billy knocked on the glass partition and spoke into the microphone. “Can I keep my backpack in the front? I’m afraid someone will sit on it.”
Billy didn’t wait for the driver’s answer before he opened the side door and hopped out. He stashed his backpack on the floor of the front seat and ran to catch up with the Secretary.
“Why, Billy, what are you doing?” The Secretary’s fur coat was red, like her hair. She wore red leather boots and carried a red purse. Billy had never seen anyone whose parts all matched.
“You look great,” Billy said. Since she didn’t stop frowning, he added, “My head hurt. I was just walking around.”
“I’ll need to speak to your aide,” she said crossly.
Billy followed her red fur coat through the revolving doors into the lobby. “Besides, I’m excited,” he said to distract her.
Her green eyes brightened. “So am I.”
They stood together in front of the elevator. “Are you going up?” Billy asked, pushing the button.
“Just to the second floor,” the Secretary said. “I want to give my assistants some last-minute instructions.”
Billy’s heart was pounding. If his scheme was going to work, he knew that he needed to beat the Secretary to the limo.
“You seem like an intelligent boy,” the Secretary said as they waited. “What are you going to do with the money?”
“Go to high school and college.”
“And then?”
“Make a lot of money.” Billy smiled his most engaging grin.
“You and I will get along just fine,” the Secretary said.
The elevator bell pinged, and Billy felt as if he had scored. He followed the Secretary inside. “I’ve been a fan of Survivor for a long time.”
“You’re sweet.” The Secretary smiled at him. Whew! She didn’t seem at all suspicious. “See you in a minute,” the Secretary said as she got off.
“Sure.” Billy got ready to race to his room.