The Unexplainable Disappearance of Mars Patel

by Sheela Chari

  Toothpick set down the twine. “Twine is important. The best tactical survival kits include it. As well as equipment to skin a wild animal, collect tree sap, and take out splinters.”

  “Hmm,” JP said. “Like, I have no idea why you’re telling me all that, but OK.”

  “But the most important thing is a map,” he said. “So you were worried about not having the map. That’s why you were worried when you didn’t see me.”

  “Wait,” JP said, “you think we needed you because of your map?”

  “Wouldn’t that make sense?”

  “No, Pick,” JP said, shaking their head. “We were worried about YOU.”

  “Oh,” he said. For a moment he didn’t say anything. “You were worried about me?”

  “That’s right, Pick. YOU.”

  He pushed up his glasses. “You worry a lot about me,” he said slowly. “Like at school. You don’t like it if someone picks on me.”

  “’Course not. You’re my bro. No one messes with my bro.”

  Toothpick nodded. “That word, bro — you use it when you want to call someone cool, hip, or a good friend.”

  JP rolled their eyes. “Not if you put it that way. Like, maybe I gotta stop using bro now.”

  “It’s hard for me to use the word bro,” Toothpick said seriously.

  “So don’t. Hand me some of that twine, will you?”

  Toothpick reached down to pass the ball of twine. He was struggling to say something, but he didn’t know how to get it out.

  “Pick, are you OK?” JP asked. “Listen, I get it. You don’t have to say bro.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I can take care of myself. But thank you . . . for worrying about me.”

  JP smiled, then fake punched him on the shoulder. “That’s what friends do.”

  “I’m feeling something,” he said. “Goodwill, I think. And friendship. Like cotton candy inside of me.”

  JP smirked. “I think that’s a compliment, but I’m not sure.”

  Together they tied all the ends until they had finally built a driftwood shelter.

  “This is real good, Pick!” JP said. “You rock.”

  Toothpick grinned. “Or you could say, I drift!”

  JP groaned. “Bad pun alert.”

  When Mars and Caddie came back with the firewood and kindling, Toothpick showed everyone how to build a hearth inside the shelter. “This will trap the heat. We need to do that to keep the fire lit.”

  “Dude,” JP said. “Is there nothing you don’t know?”

  A few minutes later they had a roaring fire thanks to the hearth and the Ultimate Survival Matches.

  “Do you think the SOS will work?” Mars asked. “Like, who will see the fire and come?”

  “It will work,” Toothpick said simply. “It worked on Frontier Living.”

  “That’s a show, Pick,” JP pointed out.

  “It’s the most realistic survival show on TV,” he said.

  “So guys, are we now, like, missing kids?” JP asked.

  “You mean like the ones around the world?” Toothpick asked. “I keep reading about them.”

  “Yeah, the podcast was talking about the missing kids in the comments, too,” Mars said.

  “Maybe they went missing because they were looking for their friends,” Caddie wondered.

  “Great,” JP said. “That’s so reassuring, since that’s what we’re doing right now. Time for some happy thoughts, folks.” JP pulled out the chips from their backpack and handed them out.

  Everyone sat around the fire, munching on chips and wondering what would happen next.

  “Isn’t it strange how here on this island everybody’s like . . . more?” Mars asked. “JP is more strong. Toothpick is more smart. Caddie is more able to read our minds.”

  “Are you implying that the island is giving us heightened skills?” Toothpick asked. “I do feel more alert. I can remember better. Build better. Reason better. Maybe you’re onto something.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” JP said. “I’m stronger than ever, I’m not getting hurt, and you know something else? It’s wet and windy and I should be cold, but I’m not.”

  Caddie nodded, her teeth chattering again. “Speak for yourself. I’m freezing even with your sweatshirt on. But maybe I’m more sensitive to cold on the island?” She looked at Mars. “And you’re more, too.”

  Mars looked startled. “Stop doing that, Cads. I’m fine.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said.

  “What’s he thinking?” JP asked.

  “That he isn’t sure what he’s doing for all of us,” Caddie said. “But that’s not the way friends think, right?”

  “You’re doing plenty,” JP said.

  “You have been single-minded in locating our friends,” Toothpick said. “We are on a difficult mission. We need a good leader.”

  “You’re a good leader,” Caddie said.

  “Geez,” Mars said, embarrassed. “You don’t have to say all that. I’m the one who dragged you out here. And . . .” He sighed. “Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

  A few moments later there came a pinging sound from Mars’s phone. A text notification.

  “I thought phones didn’t work here,” Caddie said.

  “Me, too,” Mars said. “Who sent this?”

  Everyone leaned over him to read the text as he held up his phone.

  LIL (Lost in London)

  You’re not alone

  “LIL?” JP repeated.

  “Maybe the person meant to write LOL,” Toothpick guessed.

  “But this is Lost in London, Pick,” JP said. “That’s what LIL stands for.”

  “Who’s LIL, Mars?” Caddie asked.

  “I have no idea.” He looked out toward the water. “Hey, you guys. I see something.”

  “I don’t see anything at all,” JP said. “Are you sure, Mars?”

  Toothpick took out a pair of binoculars from his survival pack. “He’s right. It’s a boat!”

  “Oh, Toothpick, your fire worked!” Caddie said. “And you know what? I can feel the boat now. It’s heading our way.”

  “Who is it? The National Guard?” he asked. “They’re responsible for rescue missions.”

  “I’m not sure. But it’s coming for us. And . . .” Caddie held her fingers up to her forehead. “It’s someone we know!”

  “I hope it isn’t my parents,” Toothpick said immediately.

  “What if it’s Oliver Pruitt?” Mars wondered.

  “Calling Earth to Mars,” JP said. “Oliver Pruitt isn’t thinking about us.”

  Now they could hear the puttering of a motorboat. Closer and closer it came until the outline of the boat was in view. Whoever it was killed the engine. They shone their remaining flashlights to see who it was.

  “Look, it’s Mr. Q!” Toothpick called out.

  Mr. Q held his hand up to shield the light from his eyes.

  “Why am I not surprised?” he asked. “I should have guessed it would be you guys.”

  They spent the next few minutes putting out the fire on the beach by dumping sand over it. With all of them working, it didn’t take long. Then one by one, Mr. Q helped them onto his boat.

  When they were in the boat and seated, Mr. Q gave them all life vests to wear.

  “Are we glad you came when you did,” JP said to Mr. Q.

  “Had enough of Gale Island, have you?” Mr. Q asked.

  “Well, yeah,” JP said. “From Toothpick’s extra braininess to Caddie reading minds, to me being fireproof, I think I had enough for one night. Not to mention that the sch —”

  “How did you even find us?” Mars interrupted loudly.

  JP stopped talking, but when Mr. Q looked away to steer the boat, they mouthed What? to Mars. He just shook his head back.

  “I saw your fire,” Mr. Q was saying, “and thought I would check it out. Looks like it was a good decision.” He smiled, the wind sending his hair into peaks.
“The weather is getting nasty and the last thing you want is to be stuck on an island in Puget Sound.”

  “What were you doing on the sound at this hour?” Mars asked. His voice was flat.

  “Oh, this and that,” Mr. Q said. “It’s how I get my thoughts clear — going out on the water at night, observing marine life. Sometimes I see harbor seals and otters swimming in the moonlight.”

  “But there’s no moon,” Mars said. “Seems like a big coincidence, you being here.”

  “What, Mars? Would you rather I hadn’t found you tonight?” Mr. Q said it good-naturedly, but Mars could sense a sudden sharpness in his voice.

  “No, of course not,” Mars said immediately. He glanced at his phone. “Oh look, I’m getting a signal finally.”

  “Yeah all my bars,” JP said. “Time to check messages.”

  Mr. Q looked at them, mildly amused. “Can’t be without your phones, can you, kids?”

  He continued steering the boat as they all scrolled through their messages. Meanwhile, Mars started texting.

  Mars

  Isn’t it strange Mr Q just showed up at this hour

  JP

  Who cares he rescued us

  Toothpick

  He is an expert boater notice how he handles the waves

  Mars

  Cads are you getting any bad vibes

  Caddie

  No it’s Mr Q he’s always helping us

  Toothpick

  Why Are u worried

  JP

  Try paranoid

  Mars

  Let’s not tell him anything about why we were on Gale

  Caddie

  U think he’s not being straight with us

  Mars

  Not sure

  Mr. Q glanced at everyone. “Strap in, kids,” he called from the helm. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride home.” Then he guided the boat into the dark waters, heading back to Port Elizabeth.

  Mars

  aurora where is Pruitt Prep

  And where r u??

  Oliver’s last podcast was the most awesome one Mars had ever heard. It even gave him goose bumps. A beam of light, imagining the future . . . Mars could think of nothing else as he walked to the assembly.

  “Mars, thank God,” Caddie said when she saw him in front of the gym. “I’m glad I found someone I know. You know how I hate assemblies. Too many people. All their feelings flying around gives me a headache.”

  “I thought you block them out,” Mars said as he stuck his phone in his pocket.

  “I do. But it’s like there’s a door and they’re all waiting on the other side.”

  Mars grinned. “Then don’t open the door, Cads.”

  “Thanks,” Caddie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Mars remembered their conversation on the island. Had he really asked her to the dance? He’d never asked a girl to anything. And she’d said yes! He wondered if she could read his mind now. If she was, she wasn’t acting like it. Just be yourself, he thought. Whatever that meant.

  They spotted JP and Toothpick in the bleachers and joined them.

  “Like I said, Pick, hit me right here,” JP said, indicating a place on their chin.

  “You want me to hit you as hard as I can?” Toothpick asked doubtfully.

  “Remember last night on the island when I caught on fire?” JP asked. “I’m indestructible. Now I want to prove it. Punch me in the face.”

  “OK,” Toothpick said agreeably. “But just so you know, I forgot the bus schedule this morning. I’m not remembering everything like I did last night.”

  Caddie scrunched her face. “I can’t read your minds, either!” she said. Her eyes flickered to Mars and she flushed. “Well, um, not like yesterday.”

  “OK, JP,” Toothpick said, pulling back a fist. “Get ready, because —”

  “On second thought, let’s wait,” JP said quickly. They noticed Mars’s distracted expression. “What’s wrong, Mars?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mars said. He frowned, his eyes on the stage. “Mr. Q is down there. And he’s giving me a look.”

  “I see him,” Caddie said. “And . . . ow.” She reached to hold her head with her fingers. “Mars . . . Now I’m feeling something, too.”

  “It’s just everyone around us, Cads,” JP said. “You getting their feels, girl?”

  Caddie shook her head. “I can block that. This is more like something’s” — she looked at the stage, puzzled —“ there.”

  “Mr. Q is there,” JP said. “Even I can see that.”

  Everyone watched as Mr. Q ran a sound check on the stage. Suddenly there was a loud hum in the air.

  “Whoa, did the lights just flicker?” JP wondered.

  “That’s a sixty-cycle hum,” Toothpick said. “I don’t know what they’re doing, but whatever they’re plugging in is drawing a lot of power.”

  Caddie pressed her temples. “I don’t like it,” she said uneasily. “Mars, I don’t like it at all.”

  Mars didn’t like it, either, and just like Caddie, he couldn’t say why. Around them, kids were talking, their voices echoing inside the cavernous gym. Mr. Q was standing in the middle of the stage, staring straight at Mars. He kept staring as he walked up to the microphone. Why was he looking at Mars like that?

  “All right, all right, H. G. Wells Middle School!” Mr. Q called out, his voice booming across the speakers in the gym. “Are you ready for an assembly or what?”

  Everyone cheered, but it was pretty half-hearted. Most of the assemblies were lame.

  JP took a sandwich out of their pocket. “I’m hungry. Anybody want some? It’s tuna with mayonnaise.”

  Toothpick liked JP’s sandwiches. “Yes, please,” he said approvingly.

  From Mars’s hoodie pocket came a text notification.

  “Mars. You’re not supposed to have your phone,” Caddie whispered.

  JP grinned. “Yeah, but who listens to rules? Do you, Cads?”

  Mars read the message on his screen out loud.

  LIL (Lost in London)

  Friends are not always friends

  “It’s LIL!” JP said, smirking, and took a bite of their sandwich. “LOL, Mars! OMG!”

  “It sounds like they’re giving you advice,” Toothpick said. He wiped a splotch of mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth.

  “Or a warning,” Caddie whispered. “Shush, everyone. Mr. Q is saying something.”

  Friends are not always friends. What did that mean? Mars wondered. And who was LIL?

  “. . . before we kick off this very special event, we need a basketball,” Mr. Q was saying to everyone. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Cutty?”

  Mr. Cutty, the PE teacher, tossed him a ball.

  “What are they doing?” JP wondered. “Free-throw time?”

  “All righty!” Mr. Q held up the basketball. “Students, are you ready?”

  Students hooted. Someone said, “Start already!”

  Caddie clutched Mars’s arm, bracing herself.

  Mr. Q gave a sweep of his hand at the equipment next to him on the stage. “Through arrangements made by our presenter, we are broadcasting this assembly live around the world!”

  “Live around the world?” JP repeated. They swallowed the last of their tuna sandwich.

  “Thousands of kids are tuning in right now,” Mr. Q said, “to watch this most special presentation.”

  A hush fell on the gym. Really?

  “Is he pulling our leg?” JP asked. “Who would want to watch me eat my tuna sandwich?”

  Toothpick pulled on their sleeve. “Not us.” He pointed to the stage. “Look.”

  “Let’s give a warm H. G. Wells welcome to our speaker today,” Mr. Q told everyone. He paused and took a dramatic step back. “Oliver Pruitt!”

  Mars felt his eyes pop out of his head. Was Mr. Q for real? Then there, walking across the stage, was the man himself. In their school. Everyone stood up, clapping wildly.

  “Oh my god, it’s Oliv
er Pruitt!” someone yelled behind them.

  “Isn’t he, like, super rich?” someone else said.

  “He’s here because of the GIFT,” another girl said.

  “Can I be in your school, Mr. Pruitt?” someone yelled out.

  Meanwhile, Mars was practically having a heart attack. He’d seen so many pictures of Oliver Pruitt. He even had that poster of him in his locker. But none of those pictures had prepared him for what he saw now. Oliver was tall, with dark hair and a goatee, and he wore a tan shirt, a navy blazer, and dark boots. He seemed to shimmer as he walked onstage, as if he was enveloped in a soft, haloed glow. This was Oliver Pruitt? This was the man with the laughing voice, who shared hundreds of jokes and riddles on his podcast, who appeared in so many YouTube interviews that it was hard to know if he was real or just something imagined on the Internet? Why did he look so different? And why did he look so familiar, too?

  “Namaste!” Oliver Pruitt called out. “Greetings! Salut! Konnichiwa! Buenos días!” As he continued greeting the students in languages from all around the world, everyone around Mars was surprised, too. For a moment no one knew what to think. A great murmur went through the crowd.

  “Where did he come from?” JP sputtered. “How did he just get up on the stage?”

  “He must have been behind the curtains,” Toothpick said. “Magicians do that.”

  “Oliver Pruitt is not a magician,” Caddie said. Her eyes were not shining in wonder. Instead, she was pressing her head anxiously. “Ugh. My headache is getting worse.”

  After the crowd subsided, Oliver continued. “Ever since I was little, I have been fascinated by gravity and the speed of light. I wondered: What if we could send messages that way? Because even as a small boy, I knew that a message might be nothing more than an image carried by the wings of science.”

  Mars trembled in awe. “That’s what he was saying on his podcast!” he told his friends.

  Oliver now paused to stare meaningfully at the crowd, almost as if he was looking at . . . Mars turned around to see if someone was there behind him. “And to prove my point,” Oliver continued, “can I have a volunteer?”

  “Me!” shouted someone. Everywhere around them, kids waved their hands, begging to be picked. “Me! Me!”