“So you hate them all?”
Elijah shook his head. “No. Actually, I love them all.”
“Really? But you just said—”
“No season is perfect for biking. But they are all good for meeting people and for making a living. There is something good to be gained in every trial, you know.”
I took some more sips from my water bottle and checked on Flames. He looked like he was asleep, for now.
What am I going to do with this bird?
“Elijah,” I said, “have you ever done much exploring in the Ramble?”
Elijah nodded. “On days when I need a break from pedaling, I go there to think.”
“To think? About birds?” Zoe reached down to steady her backpack.
Elijah kept his feet moving on the pedals. “Not about birds. Mostly about how my life is going. How I am thankful to be here, even though it is not always easy. Sitting on the benches, looking up at the trees and blue sky, helps me to focus on what is truly important.”
Zoe leaned forward. “And what is that?”
Elijah turned his head to look back at her. “Breathing. Laughing. Loving people. And lots of other things that I am still thinking about.”
Zoe leaned back and took a deep breath. “I’d like to spend some more time in the Ramble this year. I read there’s a secret cave that’s not open to the public anymore. Do you know how to get to it, Elijah?”
“Oh, yes. I know where it is.”
“Really? Where?” I sat up, ready for Elijah to tell us the location of the cave.
Maybe I could hide Flames there.
But he just laughed. “You’ll have to find that yourself, Mr. Arcade. Something tells me that you are not afraid to take part in an adventure or two.”
I reached for my chest and covered the Triple T Token with my hand. Thankfully, it was the same temperature as my body, for now.
Zoe and I relaxed for the next few minutes in the back of the pedicab. Someone called Elijah, so he talked on his phone as he pedaled away. I watched as the blocks went by . . . 72nd . . . 73rd . . . 74th . . . this was sure faster than walking.
“Is 85th close enough? That’s a natural exit from the park.”
“It’s great!” I reached down and poked Flames’s sleeping head further down in the backpack, stood up, and swung the straps over one shoulder. “I’ll get this for you, sis. You look droopy.”
Zoe narrowed her eyes and grabbed both water bottles. “Thanks so much, Elijah. You saved us today.”
He jumped down off his bike and bowed. “It was my honor and privilege, young lady.”
Zoe smiled. “I pray you get lots of business this afternoon to make up for our free ride.”
Elijah jumped back on his bike and turned the pedicab around. “Whether I do, or whether I do not, that is up to the Lord. He’s got me.”
Elijah waved, and we waved back. And just as he was pedaling away, Flames poked his beak out.
Zoe smiled at the bird, then frowned at me. “Seriously, Arcade, what are we going to do with a flamingo?”
I gave Zoe a tight grin. “Not sure. But we’ll think of something. Maybe Doug can hide him at his place.”
Chapter 7
Greenstone for Sale
“I love our street!” Zoe tilted her face to the sky and put her arms out, twirling around and around. I love it too. The trees on our street provide great shade in the hot afternoon.
“Okay, let’s go see Doug. Maybe Flames can hang out in his extra bathroom.”
Zoe and I approached the stairs to Doug’s house. “Here we are. My favorite greenstone!”
“It’s a brownstone, Arcade. How many times do we have to debate this?”
I pointed to the paint on the door. “As many times as we need to until you admit this is green.”
Zoe put a hand on her hip. “I know the color is green, but these houses are historically called brownstones.”
“HEY, GUYS!” Doug flung the door open and stepped out on the landing. He was munching Chili Cheese Fritos. He’s always munching on something, though with his new braces, he’s had to cut back on his favorite sticky foods, like gummy bears.
Squawk! Squawk!
Doug dropped the Frito bag. “Whatcha got in that backpack? A bird? Is it Milo?” Milo is my sister’s dumb cockatoo that mocks my every word.
“No way, bro! You think I’d take Milo for a walk?” I set the backpack down on the ground. “Is your grandma home?”
Doug glanced back toward the house. “Nah. She’s uh . . . getting some special medical care.”
SQUAWK!
I unzipped the backpack and pulled Flames out.
Doug jumped back. “WHAT IS THAT?”
I bobbled the bird a bit, but then got him comfortable in my arms. I glanced over at Doug’s bedroom window and noticed it had a new sign in it. I pointed to it with my free hand. “WHAT IS THAT?”
“WHAT IS THAT?”
Zoe palmed her forehead. “Here we go . . .”
Doug likes to repeat things people say. It’s funny . . . until it’s not.
Doug turned to look at the sign. “You answer my question first! WHAT IS THAT?” He pointed to Flames again.
I adjusted Flames some more.
Squawk!
“Dude, this is a flamingo. Can’t you tell?”
“Can’t I tell?”
“That’s what I said.”
Doug came in closer to pet Flames. “Aren’t flamingos supposed to be orange?”
“Zoe says they’re pink.”
Doug scrunched up his nose. “Pink? Nah. That’s just the fakey plastic ones in Florida.”
“Oh, puhleeeeeeze!” Zoe growled. “Must we go over the finer points of flamingos out here where people are bound to walk by and see him?”
“Did you steal him from the zoo?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say we stole him. He just sorta hitched a ride with us in an elevator at the Beijing Zoo.”
“Beijing Zoo?!?” Doug grabbed my forearm and pulled me into the house. Zoe followed. “Have you been travelin’ with that token again?”
I set Flames down on the area rug in Doug’s living room, handed Zoe her backpack, and took a seat on the couch.
“Ewwwww. Arcade! He did his business in my backpack!” Zoe dropped it on the floor and covered her face with her hands.
I tried not to laugh. Actually, no, I didn’t. I laughed out loud. “Well, he’s just a little guy. And at least you have a backpack.”
“What happened to your backpack, Arcade?” Doug sat down on the floor and reached out to pet Flames.
“It was stolen by a sack of potatoes at the entrance to the subway right before Arcade belly flopped down the stairs,” Zoe said.
“And we thought we’d have to walk all the way home, but when we reached the park, Elijah gave us a ride in his pedicab. Well, right after we took a little trip through the earth and ended up at the Beijing Zoo.”
Doug put both hands on his forehead. “THROUGH the earth? To the Beijing Zoo?”
“That’s what I said, Doug.”
“Aww, man, you’ve been goin’ to all kinds of crazy places since you got that token. My favorite was my time on Food TV, though.”
Doug was the first of my friends to accompany me and Zoe on one of our token adventures. He ended up on a food show called The Munch, and was about to make a spectacle of himself, when the token returned us to our regularly scheduled school day—filled with bullies and a nearly impossible year-end assignment from our teacher, Mr. Dooley.
I put my hand over the token. “Yeah, this little token is full of surprises.” It heated up just a bit. “But I think—”
“What?” Zoe got a concerned look on her face.
“I think it’s changing somehow. The lady on the top of the Empire State Building told me things were about to heat up . . . to test my metal. I don’t get what she meant by that.”
“The lady?” Zoe stood up and started pacing. “The one who gave you the token in
the library? You saw her again? You didn’t tell me she was up there.”
“I didn’t have time! Mom and Dad showed up and then . . . well . . . we’ve been a little busy digging through the earth and back.”
“But that was IMPORTANT, Arcade! The woman could have given us some answers!”
I shook my head. “She said there was no time for answers. And just that—”
“WHAT?”
“That things were going to heat up to test my metal. And it’s part of the process. And I’m supposed to trust the tester.” I scratched my head. “What’s a tester?”
Zoe picked up a couch pillow and threw it at me. “YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED HER.”
Squawk!
Flames ran over and pecked Zoe on the ankle.
“OUCH!!!! Why did you do that?”
I laughed. “Looks like he’s protecting me.”
“But I’m the one who gave him my backpack to use as a bathroom.”
Squawk!
“Is that really a flamingo?” Doug examined Flames’s feathers. “Why isn’t he orange?”
“Flamingos are pink,” Zoe said.
Ugh. Time to change the subject.
“Hey, Doug, what was that sign in your front window?”
Doug settled back on his hands on the floor. “Oh, that.” He sighed. “It’s a For Sale sign.”
I sat up straight. “Is your greenstone for sale?”
“Brownstone,” Zoe said.
I ignored Zoe and looked back at Doug. “Well, IS IT?”
Doug stood up and then he began pacing. “Yeah, Arcade. I didn’t know how to tell you but . . . the greenstone is for sale.”
I walked right up and put my face in front of his. “But WHY? Your grandma’s lived here all her life. Where does she want to go? Where could you go that would be better than here?”
Doug grabbed his bag of Fritos from the couch. He frantically munched, and chili-cheese crumbs fell to the floor.
“It’s like this. Grandma’s not doing so good. She doesn’t want to move from here, but she . . . I mean . . . I . . . well . . . we can’t take care of her anymore. She has to go to an assisted living place, and she needs the money from the sale of this place to pay for it.”
Zoe and I just stared at Doug. Flames stopped his exploring and stared at Doug too.
Doug continued, “Okay. She’s sort of already in an assisted living place.”
“Sort of?” Zoe walked over and put a hand on Doug’s shoulder.
Doug slumped a little. “Yeah. She’s been there two weeks.”
“Doug,” I walked over and pulled the chip bag out of his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us? Have you been staying here alone for two weeks?”
Doug nodded. “I figured if I told you, that would mean that it’s really happening, and I really don’t want this to happen.”
A knot formed in my throat. I didn’t know what to say.
“And then that lady realtor came by today and asked to put up the sign. Do you think anyone’s gonna want to buy this place?”
We all looked around at the cozy home, with the new wood flooring and light-blue painted walls covered with watercolor paintings of Central Park. My favorite thing was the built-in fireplace in the corner. Doug and I had spent plenty of time sitting in front of it last spring trying to figure out how to survive with bullies Kevin and Casey Tolley living on our block.
Zoe nodded. “Yep. This place is gonna sell fast.”
We all sat silently for a few seconds. My mind filled with more questions. “Doug, where are you going to live? Can you stay with your grandma?”
Doug shook his head. “Nah. It’s against the rules.”
“So what are you supposed to do?” I held both hands toward the ceiling.
Doug took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’ve got a social worker coming over in a couple weeks to help me figure that out.”
“Social worker? A couple weeks?” Zoe gave me a side glance.
Doug held his hand out and I handed back his Frito bag. He dug in, but just came up with crumbs. “Yeah. I guess since I’m only eleven-and-a-half they won’t let me live on my own. I think they’re going to put me in foster care.”
“Doug,” Zoe said, “how old is your grandma?”
“Eighty-seven. She’s actually my great-grandma. My grandma died before I was born.”
“Oh, Doug. I’m so sorry.”
Doug licked his Frito fingers. “Thanks.”
“And where are your parents?”
“ZOE!”
Doug put a hand out. “It’s okay, Arcade. The answer is, I don’t know. I just know that they haven’t been acting like parents for a long time.”
“But . . . foster care?” I gulped. “Where? With who?”
Doug flopped down on the big brown chair in the corner of the room. “Don’t know. Whoever wants to take a hyper preteen boy who devours large quantities of food, I guess.”
Doug sat there, staring at the ceiling. Finally, he got up and spoke. “What are you going to do with Flames? Keep him at your house?”
“Nah. If we did that we’d have to explain where he came from to my parents, and I don’t even know how I’d begin to tell them about the token.”
Doug’s eyes lit up. “You wanna keep him here for now? I mean, until I have to move?”
SQUAWK! SQUAWK! SQUAWK!
I ran over and sat down next to Flames. “Flames, you gotta keep quiet. Everyone in the neighborhood will hear you.”
Doug grabbed his stomach. “You know what? I think he might be hungry.” He took a few Frito crumbs in his hand and held them out for Flames. Flames pecked for a minute but decided chili cheese wasn’t his flavor.
“Of course!” I said. “Who knows when he last ate.”
“So, Mr. Flamingo Expert,” Zoe said, “what do flamingos eat?”
“Shrimp. I read that in a library book. You got any shrimp, Doug?”
Doug jumped up and raised his hands in the air. “Have I got any shrimp? People don’t call me the Food Dude for nothin’!”
I cracked up. “Doug, nobody calls you the Food Dude.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s just what I call myself sometimes when I’m cooking. Anyways, follow me into the kitchen, friends. I was planning to sauté me up a little shrimp carbonara later in the week, but I suppose I could share some with our little flamingo.”
SQUAWK!
We made our way into the kitchen, and Doug pulled a five-pound bag of shrimp out of the freezer! He filled the sink with water and dumped in the bag of shrimp.
“Flamesy, you’re one lucky flamingo! You ended up in the Food Dude’s kitchen! And you’re about to have some nice, raw shrimp carbonara, minus the carbonara!” Doug swirled the bag around in the warm water. “Hey, Arcade, you ever wonder why shrimp isn’t orange till you cook it?”
Zoe shook her head. “Shrimp is pink.”
I threw my hands up. “Seriously, Zoe? Your nose is pink!”
* * *
After Flames demolished his raw shrimp dinner, we took him upstairs to get him settled in Doug’s extra bathroom.
“He can’t get into too much trouble up here,” Doug said. “Should we fill up the bathtub a little? You know how those flamingos like to splash around at the Bronx Zoo.”
“Actually, I’ve never been there. That’s a goal of mine this year. To see New York stuff. But hey, I have been to the Beijing Zoo.”
“Man, I wish I could have been with you guys when you went there. Do you think I’ll ever get to go on another Arcade adventure? They’re the best!”
I glanced down at my chest. There was sizzling happening under my shirt, and I had a feeling it wasn’t heartburn.
“Why are you sweating?” Doug laughed as he filled the bathtub for Flames. Zoe jumped up from the little footstool where she had been sitting, feeding dessert shrimp to Flames.
“Arcade, is your token acting up again? Please tell me you’re sweating because you forgot to use deodorant today.”
“Zoe, my face is sweating. I don’t put deodorant on my face!” The token jumped off my chest, and then dropped. When it dropped, it sizzled.
“I don’t understand,” I said to the token. “Can you help me understand? Where did you come from?” I placed the token between both hands and wished to know.
Chapter 8
Squawks and Sparks
Flames squawked and kicked water in the bathtub with his webbed feet, and Doug’s bathroom suddenly filled with sparking orange glitter. It sprayed out of the wall air freshener that was plugged into an electrical outlet. And the temperature in the small room rose at least ten degrees.
Zoe reached in her pocket and pulled out a hair tie. She gathered her hair up in a ponytail and wiped some sweat off the back of her neck. “WHY does it have to be so HOT?”
“The old lady said things would heat up. In all ways. To test my metal.”
“Metal?” Doug asked. “What metal?”
“I haven’t figured that out. The only metal I have is this thing around my neck.”
Glitter swirled and popped, and the shower doors became golden-colored elevator doors, with a golden coin slot, shaped like a soap dish, poking out of the middle.
Doug stepped in closer to me. “Is that token actual gold? Like, all the way through?” He reached for it, pulled it up to his mouth, and bit it. “Owww! It burned my tongue!”
“Well, why did you put the burning thing in your mouth?”
“I’ve seen people do that with gold in movies. To test it, to see if it’s real. I didn’t know it was that hot! You sure you don’t have a Triple T branded on your chest?”
I panicked and pulled my shirt out to look. “I hope not!”
Then, the token started to spark. And smoke. There was only one thing for me to do. I reached for the token and it came off in my hands. I had to juggle it back and forth to keep it from burning my palms. On about the third juggle, it shot straight into the coin slot.
“Flames, you stay here this time. We’ll be right back.”
Arcade and the Fiery Metal Tester Page 4