CHAPTER 9 [TIM] ZAP!
“So what do you think?” said Linnsy as we were driving to school the next morning. “Should we start a petition to see if we can get the alien kid sent back to where he came from?”
“Linnsy Vanderhof!” cried her mother. “Shame on you!”
“You should meet this kid, Mom,” protested Linnsy. “He’s the most stuck-up brat I ever saw.”
Mrs. Vanderhof glanced over her shoulder, to where I was slumped in the backseat. “And what do you think of that, Mr. Timothy?” (She always called me “Mr. Timothy.”)
“Well, he did kind of offend people yesterday, Mrs. V. But I’m hoping it was just because he was nervous.”
“There, Linnsy,” said Mrs. Vanderhof, swerving to get back on the road as she focused her eyes forward again. “Why don’t you try to be as open-minded about this as your friend?”
I sighed. Linnsy was sure to give me a punchie-wunchie for that before the day was over.
The classroom was very subdued that morning. Pleskit was wearing another robe, a lot like the first one, only light green. McNally took his place in back, so quiet and unmoving you might have thought he was someone’s project or something.
I was hoping we’d have another question-and-answer session, but I guess Ms. Weintraub wasn’t taking any chances on Pleskit making himself more disliked than he already was.
We worked quietly through the morning, making our way through reading and spelling with no real problems. No one was outright rude to Pleskit; mostly they just pretended he wasn’t there. I couldn’t tell how he was taking it. I mean, even if he had been frowning or smiling, which he wasn’t, how could you be sure what that meant on an alien face?
I noticed that he went to his Personal Needs Chamber fairly often. It was sort of weird, since his bodyguard always went out with him.
I was still dying to get a chance to talk to the alien, of course. But we were sitting two rows away from each other, so I didn’t have much of a chance. The one time I thought I could manage it, he got up to go to the bathroom again. I couldn’t wait for recess. I figured that’s when I would make my move.
The clock was doing its usual trick of getting slower and slower the closer we got to lunchtime. I got approximately no work done, since my brain was totally focused on figuring out what I was going to say to Pleskit when I caught up with him on the playground. This was something I had been thinking about for years—what the first words I would say to an alien if I ever met one should be. I had finally settled on, “Let there be peace between our planets.”
I couldn’t wait to say it.
Lunch starts at 11:40. At 11:39 Mr. Grand opened the door. Standing behind him were two people: a very pretty woman with red hair, and a muscular Asian guy carrying a big video camera marked CNN.
“We need to see Pleskit for a little while,” said Mr. Grand.
I sighed. It looked like I still wouldn’t be able to talk to Pleskit. I wondered if I would ever make contact with him.
“Our own little TV star,” muttered Jordan as Pleskit and McNally left the room.
I knew the tone in his voice. It was not a good sign.
We were on the playground when McNally and Pleskit came out of the building. The reporter and the video camera guy were still with them.
McNally said something to Pleskit, who listened carefully, then started walking toward a group of kids standing near the swing set. Figuring this was my chance, I started in Pleskit’s direction.
I noticed the reporter asking McNally a question.
I had almost made it to Pleskit when Jordan appeared as if from nowhere and elbowed me aside. “Out of the way, Nerdbutt. I wanna have a little talk with the purple kid.”
He had his friend Brad Kent with him, which was another bad sign. Jordan liked to show off for Brad.
“Jordan!” I said. “I was here first.”
“Forget it, Dootbrain,” he said, giving me another shove. Then he yelled, “Hey, Plastic! You have a good time talking to the reporter?”
Except for the stupid nickname, the words were perfectly fine. It was only his tone of voice that was insulting, and that just barely. That was Jordan’s way. He started slow, and sometimes you didn’t even realize he’d been making fun of you until he’d gotten in two or three really good digs. But once he had you hooked, he could really do a mental slice and dice.
Pleskit turned to Jordan. “It was acceptable.”
I noticed a lot of other kids moving in, the way they do when something is going to happen.
“Acceptable?” asked Jordan, sounding fake-surprised. “Well, I suppose you’re used to it. You a big star back on Planet Purple?”
Pleskit looked puzzled, and a little uncomfortable. “My home is called Hevi-Hevi.”
“And is everyone there a fatty-fatty?” asked Jordan. This earned him a cackle from Brad.
The knob on Pleskit’s head was starting to twitch. “Obesity is not a problem among our people,” he said. He spoke calmly, but it sounded like it was an effort.
“You calling Earthlings fat?” asked Jordan, stepping closer to Pleskit. He was about six inches taller than Pleskit, if you didn’t count the knob.
Pleskit looked really distressed now, as if he simply couldn’t understand what was happening. I wanted to step in and stop Jordan, but didn’t know how. Heck, I couldn’t even protect myself from the creep.
“You hear me, Purplebutt?” asked Jordan, reaching out to give Pleskit a little shove. “I asked you a question.”
I looked around for McNally. He was still tangled up with the reporter.
“Don’t touch me,” said Pleskit.
Jordan gave him another shove.
“I’m serious!” said Pleskit. “Don’t touch me!”
The knob on his head was really fizzing now. I was relieved to see McNally running in our direction. The cameraman was right behind him. Before they could reach us, Jordan gave Pleskit another shove.
The knob on Pleskit’s head made a sizzling sound. A bolt of purple energy came blasting out.
Jordan let out a squawk and fell over backward.
Pleskit groaned and fell to his knees.
Jordan lay on the ground without moving.