by Luke Sharpe
“Anything. How about . . . cleaning your paintbrushes? ”
“You got it. Well, here I have a jar full of turpentine. So I take one of the brushes I used today and . . .”
I aim and hit the button. Shhhhhhoop!
“. . . if that doesn’t work, then I take this stiff metal brush, and I—”
“Thanks, Dad!”
“That’s it? ”
“That’s it!”
I had to make sure that the Sibling Silencer only silenced siblings. It didn’t silence Dad, so that was a very good sign. He’s a family member, but obviously he’s not my sibling.
I keep testing and refining the Sibling Silencer, trying to make it perfect. Manny finds a great manufacturer, and they assure us that we’ll have a whole box of the products ready just in time for our appearance on Wake Up, America!
My dad even does some artwork for us to use on the boxes and in the ads. His pictures feature happy boys and girls using the Sibling Silencer to silence their noisy sisters and brothers.
Finally, it’s time to introduce the Sibling Silencer on Wake Up, America! I fly back to New York, but this time I don’t feel so nervous.
Soon I’m standing backstage with another assistant’s hand on my shoulder. I hear, “Let’s meet Billy Sure, the twelve-year-old inventor of the All Ball!” The assistant gives me a gentle shove, and I walk out onto the set.
It’s bright, just like the BETTER THAN SLEEPING! set. But this time there are two hosts. Bob Roberts and Cassidy Tyson.
After we talk a little about the All Ball, Bob says, “So, Billy, I understand you’ve got a new invention that you’d like to show us.”
“That’s right,” I say, reaching behind the couch to where I know they’ve put a few boxes of our new product. “It’s called the Sibling Silencer.” I pull out a box and show it to them. Dad’s artwork looks great. I explain about Sure Things’ Next Big Thing contest, the Sibling Silencer, and how Abby came up with the idea and then I helped figure it out.
Bob and Cassidy laugh. “Does the Sibling Silencer do what I think it does? ” Cassidy asks.
“Would you like a demonstration? ” I ask.
“Absolutely!” she says.
“Emily? Would you come out here, please? ”
Emily comes onstage. I realize that she’s changed into a blue dress. I guess her all-black phase is over. I wonder what’s going to come next. She smiles and gives the camera a little wave.
I stand up and gesture toward Emily. “This is my sister, Emily.”
“Nice to meet you, Emily,” says Cassidy. “Welcome!”
“Emily,” I ask (though we’ve planned and rehearsed all this ahead of time), “would you yell at me a little, please? ”
“Certainly,” Emily says politely. I’m not sure, but it almost sounds like she says it in a British accent. Strange. But then again, Emily is strange. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, and starts doing what she does best, although definitely in a British accent. “BILLY! DID YOU GO INTO MY ROOM TODAY? BECAUSE IF YOU SET ONE STINKING FOOT IN MY ROOM, I’M GOING TO—”
Shhhhhhoop!
Emily’s mouth keeps moving, but no sound comes out of it. Not a peep.
“Very impressive!” says Cassidy, laughing and applauding. “I have three older brothers, so I really could have used one of these when I was a kid. As a matter of fact, I could still use one!”
“Wait a minute,” Bob says. “I don’t mean to sound suspicious, but how do we know Emily’s not just pretending to be unable to speak? ”
“I thought you might say that,” I say. I call offstage, “Tony, would you come out here, please? ”
A man just a little older than Bob walks out smiling. Bob looks completely surprised. “Tony! It’s my brother, Tony, everyone! What a wonderful surprise!” He gets up and hugs his brother.
I hand a Sibling Silencer to Tony. Then I ask Bob to start talking. “No problem there. That’s what he does best,” Cassidy jokes.
“Well, I’m not sure what to say,” Bob begins. “I guess I could tell you about the time Tony’s pants ripped right down the middle of his—”
Shhhhhhoop!
Bob goes silent! He keeps trying to speak, but no sound comes out of his mouth.
“Well, here’s a first!” says Cassidy. “This is the longest I think he’s ever gone without talking!”
In a few seconds, Bob’s voice returns. “That was unbelievable!” he says.
“How did it feel? ” Cassidy asks. “Did it hurt? ”
“Not at all,” he answers. “I just couldn’t make any sound. It was the weirdest thing!” He picks up one of the boxes. “I’ve got to get one of these things! Payback time, Tony.”
“Me too!” says Cassidy. She looks straight into the camera. “Watch out, big brothers! I’m comin’ for ya!”
Success!
IN THE OFFICE THE NEXT day manny and I raise two glasses of soda. Mine’s black-cherry ginger ale and his is a white-chocolate grape-orange float.
“To the Sibling Silencer!” I toast.
“And its unbelievable sales figures!” Manny adds. “Thanks to Abby and you and your genius inventing ability.”
I sip my soda. “But also huge thanks to you, Manny. Not just for your business wizardry, but for showing me that I really did figure out the All Ball and the Sibling Silencer.”
“I guess from now on whenever you get stuck on a new invention, you should just go to bed!”
We laugh. I toss a large All Ball in the air. When it reaches the height of my toss, Manny zaps it with the remote control, changing it before it falls. It goes from football to basketball.
“Be careful not to hit the bowling ball button,” I say.
“You know,” Manny says, “there was someone who knew all along that you invented the All Ball and the Sibling Silencer in your sleep.”
“Who? ”
“Philo! He saw the whole thing! Both times!”
“That’s true. If only he could have told me, I would’ve been spared an awful lot of guilt.” I set down the All Ball and go over to pet Philo. “I’m thinking we’ve got to invent a Dog Translator. Every dog owner in the world will want one!”
• • •
Just before I go to bed that night, I check my e-mail one more time. There’s one from my mom. But I notice it’s from her old e-mail address. Did she switch back to the one that got hacked? Why would she do that?
I click on the e-mail.
Hi, Honey!
I am so sorry you haven’t heard anything from me for a few weeks.
Huh? I just had an e-mail from her a couple of days ago. What’s she talking about? Is this an old e-mail that just now came through for some reason?
I keep reading. . . .
I’ve been in Antarctica, and terrible storms knocked out the Wi-Fi at the station, so I haven’t been able to e-mail you. I feel just terrible about it. I’ve been thinking about you, wondering how seventh grade is going. Of course, I’ve also missed the end of the Hyenas’ season! I assume they didn’t make the play-offs again this year . . .
The e-mail goes on, but I stop reading.
So my mom hasn’t had e-mail for weeks.
Which raises a number of very important questions.
Who have I been e-mailing?
Who have I been telling my ideas for inventions?
Who has been pretending to be my mom?
And why?
I’ve got to talk to Manny. Even if it ruins his good mood. And even if what I’ve done could destroy our business forever. I’ve still got to tell him. We’ll figure this out together. That’s what best friends—and business partners—are for.
I get up and go to the bathroom. I’m ready to head downstairs to pour myself a bowl of cereal. Philo trots down the stairs ahead of me. It’s Saturday, so I don’t have to rush to school. But now that I’ve decided to tell Manny about Imposter Mom, I can’t wait
to get it over with. But my stomach is growling, so I need to eat first.
But then I smell something that makes me lose my appetite. Something . . . awful. I freeze.
Emily comes out of her bedroom. “Eww. What is that foul smell? Is it you, genius?”
Emily often calls me genius. But when she says it, it’s not a compliment.
And she says it all with a British accent. But she’s not British. Despite that little fact, she’s been speaking with a British accent for the past few days. I have no idea why. But I have learned from experience with Emily that sometimes it’s best not to ask why.
“It’s not me,” I say, heading downstairs again. “Maybe it’s your accent. That stinks pretty bad.”
“Wait!” she says. “Stop!”
I stop. I have no idea why she’s telling me to stop. Is there a rattlesnake on the stairs? Nah, I think Philo would have noticed.
“I know what the horrid odor is,” she says dramatically.
“What?”
“Dad’s cooking breakfast!”
If she’s right, this is a terrible development. My dad thinks he’s a gourmet chef, but everything he makes is awful. Actually, awful is too kind a word to describe my dad’s cooking. Maybe “disgusting beyond belief”?
Luckily, my dad never makes breakfast, because he’s usually out painting in his studio in the backyard. He says he loves the early morning light.
Philo, Emily, and I make our way into the kitchen. Sure enough, Dad’s at the stove.
“Dad?” Emily asks cautiously. “You’re . . . making breakfast?” Even in a situation this upsetting, she doesn’t lose her new accent.
“Good morning, honey!” he says cheerfully. “I sure am! Hungry?”
“But, Dad,” I say, pointing to the window, “you’re missing the beautiful morning light.”
He salts whatever disgusting thing is in the pan. “I am. And I still love the light right at sunrise. But for the paintings I’m doing right now, I prefer the light of sunset. So for the next couple of weeks, I can cook you breakfast!”
“Does this mean you won’t be able to cook dinner?” Emily asks hopefully.
Dad laughs. “Of course not! Now, who wants turnip turnovers?”
He’s holding a big sizzling green blob on the spatula. I’m not a turnip expert, but I’m pretty sure they’re not usually green.
Emily and I start talking at the same time, firing off excuses one after the other. “Sorry but . . . Ihavetoeatcerealforaspecial homeworkassignment—I’mallergictoturnips—onaturnipfreediet—fastingforworldpeace—Ialreadyatebreakfast . . . I HAVE TO GET TO THE OFFICE!” I finish loudly just as Emily pauses to take a breath.
LUKE SHARPE is not a millionaire, but he has been trying to invent a machine that can teleport people anywhere in the world since he was eight years old. He has so far been unsuccessful but he has vowed never to give up. When he isn’t working, Luke enjoys Hawaiian pizza and skateboarding. He lives near Chicago with his wife and son (named Billy, of course), their gecko, Eddie, and their aquarium full of exotic fish.
GRAHAM ROSS has grand plans for world domination through his illustrated inventions. Right now he’s having a “ball” hanging out with Billy Sure, the next sure thing! Graham lives in a little log home in the woods with his inventive family, just outside of Merrickville, Canada.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Simon Spotlight paperback edition May 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. Text by David Lewman. Illustrations by Graham Ross. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected].
Designed by Jay Colvin
Jacket illustrated by Graham Ross
Jacket illustrations copyright © 2015 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
The text of this book was set in Minya Nouvelle.
ISBN 978-1-4814-3948-0 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-3947-3 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-3949-7 (eBook)
Library of Congress Catalog Number 2014949478