5: Wheelin’ and Dealin’

ONCE AGAIN, Hector was inside Ferggy’s van

bounce, bounce, bounce-ing

away and feeling a lot like . . .

(please check one box):

• □   a human ping-pong ball
• □   popcorn in a microwave oven
• □   a magnitude 9.9 earthquake
• □   all of the above

Translation #1: Ferggy’s driving had not improved.

“Wh-wh-where . . . we g-g-going?” Hector yelled.

“Almost-ost-ost there,” Ferggy shouted.

Of course, Hector had no idea where there was, but as time passed, the where became more there than the there was when he first asked where.

Translation: They’re almost there.

Five minutes later, Ferggy hit the brakes, and they skidded into a slide, nearly hitting an SUV parked along the road.

After all the screams of

“LOOK OUT!”

“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!”

faded, Ferggy calmly opened his door and stepped outside. “You boys wait here,” he said.

“What’s he doing?” Hector asked.

“Just making a little purchase,” Bad News Kid #1 said.

Hector stared out the window as two old-timers —I’d guess they were in their twenties —greeted Ferggy. One was bald, and the other had a scraggly beard at least a foot long.

From inside the van, Bad News Kid #2 said, “They better work this time. Last year, half of them were duds.”

“Half of what?” Hector asked.

“You’ll see,” Bad News Kid #1 said.

They watched as the old-timers walked to the back of the SUV. Scraggly Beard pulled out an apple crate full of all sorts of containers wrapped mostly in red, white, and blue.

“What’s in there?” Hector asked.

“Fireworks,” Bad News Kid #1 said.

“Fireworks?” Hector said. “I thought they’re illegal —because of the drought and danger of fires.”

“That’s for amateurs,” Bad News Kid #1 said. “We know what we’re doing.”

“They just better work,” Bad News Kid #2 repeated. Without warning, he slid open the door and stepped outside.

“Wait for me.” Bad News Kid #1 scooted across the seat and joined him.

Hector followed.

“Hey,” Ferggy shouted, “I thought I told you guys to stay in the van!”

“How do we know the stuff is any good?” Bad News Kid #2 asked.

Scraggly Beard answered —not exactly growling, but not exactly smiling either —“You saying we’re ripping you off?”

“He’s not saying that,” Ferggy said.

“I’m not?” Bad News Kid #2 said.

“He’s not?” Bad News Kid #1 said.

“Fine.” Bald Dude started putting the apple crate back in the SUV. “If you don’t want our stuff, don’t buy it.”

“But we do!” Ferggy cried. He looked to the other two kids who weren’t so sure.

“So what’ll it be, boys?” Scraggly Beard asked.

No one had an answer . . . until Hector said the obvious. “So, show us,” he said.

“What?” Bald Dude asked.

“A sample,” Hector said. “Show us a sample, and we’re good.”

Ferggy’s face lit up. “Yeah. Light one, and if it works, we’ve got a deal.”

Scraggly Beard and Bald Dude traded looks.

Finally Scraggly Beard said, “Okay, fine. Pick one.”

Ferggy reached into the crate.

“Just one.”

“Right, right.” Ferggy dug deep until he pulled out a sparkler cone.

Bald Dude motioned to the road. “Set it off over there.”

Ferggy nodded and crossed to the center of the road. Turning to the old-timers, he yelled over the wind, “You got a light? I used mine up on all the cigarettes I smoke.”

Of course it was a lie; Hector hadn’t seen Ferggy smoke. Ferggy just pretended so he could impress the old-timers.

Scraggly Beard pulled a lighter from his jacket and tossed it to him. It slipped through Ferggy’s fingers (he’s a juvenile delinquent, not an athlete), but he quickly scooped it up and stooped down to light the cone.

Everyone watched.

Nothing happened.

“See,” Bad News Kid #2 said, “I told you it —”

hissssssSS . . .

Beautiful sparks flew up . . . red, silver, blue. They might have even been more beautiful if a gust of wind hadn’t come along and blown those beautiful sparks right into the dry grass.

Everyone froze.

“Stomp it out!” Scraggly Beard shouted. “Stomp it out!”

Ferggy tried his best, but the flames spread too quickly.

Bald Dude ran to the fire and also tried, but the wind was just too strong. Scraggly Beard also jumped in, peeling off his jacket and slapping at the flames. Nothing helped. The fire kept spreading and spreading and spreading some more.

Bad News Kid #1 turned to Ferggy and cried, “What do we do?”

It was a tough decision, but as the leader, he had the obvious answer:

“Let’s get out of here!”