by Tim Kehoe
Copyright
Copyright © 2009 by Kehoe Companies, LLC
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.
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Little, Brown Books for Young Readers is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
First eBook Edition: November 2009
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-08171-9
Contents
COPYRIGHT
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
1: OUT OF THE BLUE
2: WHY SO BLUE?
3: THE MINI APPLE
4: A WALK IN THE PARK
5: THE DISCOVERY
6: EVERLASTING
7: THE GREAT MR. TESLA
8: THE SECRET LAB
9: SNONKEY THE GREAT
10: DEATH RAYS, PEANUT BUTTER, AND OTHER DANGEROUS THINGS
11: THE ART OF INVENTION
12: SECRETS FROM THE PAST
13: LAST CHANCE
14: THE WHIZ KID
15: FOUR MONTHS LATER
16: FOOBEEZOOBEE
17: THE CONTEST
18: IDEA NO. 50
19: SUGAR AND SPICE, YEAH RIGHT
20: HIGH VOLTAGE
21: MAYBE NEXT TIME
22: TESLA, TOYS, AND TOILET PAPER
23: STRANGE FLIGHT
24: THE WONDROUS MR. WHIZ
25: LUCKY BREAK
26: THE ROOM OF FIRSTS
27: FAME
28: DANGER BOY
29: LAB PARTNERS
30: TOY FAIR
31: PROTOPTYPES
32: THE SHOW MUST GO ON
33: BUBBLE BOY
WANT TO PLAY?
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction and intended solely for reading entertainment. It is not intended to be a guidebook for any of the experiments or activities described in this book. The experiments and activities described in this book can be extremely dangerous and the reader should not attempt to recreate them. Before doing any kind of science experiment, readers are advised to ask a responsible adult about the dangers that may be involved and, with the help of that adult, take the necessary precautions. The author and publisher disclaim any liability that is incurred from the application of the contents of this book.
OUT OF THE BLUE
1
Jeff Benz gave out most of the nicknames at Central Middle School. The nicknames were never kind and, unfortunately, they usually stuck. Take Jimmy “Eagle-Eyes” Pierson, for example. Jimmy had an unfortunate eye condition that made it difficult for him to accurately judge distances. Once, in second grade, Jimmy walked into the cafeteria wall so hard it knocked him to the floor. Jeff Benz immediately stood up and yelled, “Nice going, Eagle-Eyes.” And that was that. The nickname Eagle-Eyes was now pinned to Jimmy Pierson for the rest of his life. (It didn’t matter to anyone that Jimmy had corrective surgery last year and now enjoyed perfect vision. No, to the students at Central Middle, Jimmy Pierson would be “Eagle-Eyes” forever.)
Vincent Shadow didn’t have a nickname, but as he climbed out of his secret attic laboratory at 6:34 AM on Monday morning, he was afraid that today would be the day he’d receive one. Vincent was blue. His hands were blue. His face was blue. Even the whites of his eyes were blue. As he closed the hidden door in the back of his bedroom closet, all he could think about were the awful nicknames that Jeff Benz would assign to him.
“Pretty bird. Pretty bird,” Nikola said from inside his cage.
“Sshhh. You’ll wake everyone up,” Vincent said to the African Grey parrot his parents had given him for his ninth birthday. Vincent named the bird after his favorite inventor, Nikola Tesla. And the fact that even his beloved parrot was mocking him was a bad sign of what was to come.
Vincent quietly opened his bedroom door and looked out into the hall. His oldest stepsister, Gwen, usually hogged the bathroom in the morning. But no one was awake yet. So he tiptoed into the bathroom and locked the door.
“Wigman,” Vincent said to himself. “The Huli Wigman of New Guinea. That’s what they’re going to call me. ‘Wigboy.’”
Vincent’s class had learned about the Huli tribe last year. They got a kick out of hearing that the Huli Wigmen dyed their skin blue for tribal ceremonies. But looking in the mirror, Vincent’s worries turned from his new nickname to his own safety. Not only were his skin and eyes blue, but his tongue and teeth were a deep navy blue as well. Vincent had experienced many mishaps in the lab—spills, cuts, little electrical shocks, and once he even glued his fingertips together—but this, this looked much worse.
Vincent stood in the shower for thirty minutes, scrubbing as hard as he could, but nothing seemed to work. He tried all of his sister’s fancy soaps and shampoos, but the mess just got worse. Not only was he still as blue as a blue jay, but now most of the bathroom was blue, too.
“Hurry up, Vern,” Gwen said as she pounded on the bathroom door. “You’ve been in there for almost an hour!”
Vincent’s father, Norton Shadow, had remarried a few months ago, and Vincent went from being an only child, which he deeply missed, to living with three stepsisters: Gwen, Stella, and Anna. Gwen was sixteen and went to Central High School on the Upper West Side. Stella was Vincent’s age. In fact, their birthdays were exactly one week apart. But that was where the similarities stopped. Anna was six. An aggressive, annoying, insistent six-year-old girl.
Gwen had called Vincent “Vern.” She had never done this before—called him Vern, that is. She had also never called him Vincent. In fact, she had never called him the same name twice. While the names usually started with a V, she never seemed to come up with “Vincent,” or even “Vinny,” for that matter. Vincent was pretty sure she did this on purpose. It drove him crazy, but no one else in the family seemed to notice.
“I’LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE,” Vincent shouted to Gwen, who was now practically breaking down the bathroom door with her slipper.
Vincent tried to clean up as best he could and then wrapped a towel around his body, a second around his hair, and covered his face with a third towel as he walked out of the bathroom.
He decided to wear a blue shirt, blue pants, and blue socks to try to camouflage his blueness. Vincent hoped that people would think it was his blue clothes casting a blue reflection that made him seem so blue. But when he looked into his dresser mirror and saw the Wigman chief staring back at him, he realized that this was going to be the longest day of his life.
WHY SO BLUE?
2
Anna was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal when Vincent walked into the kitchen.
“Mom! Mom! Vincent is blue!” obnoxious Anna said. Vincent’s stepmother was standing at the sink with her back to Vincent. While the world may be full of wonderful, kind, caring stepmothers, unfortunately for Vincent, Vibs, his new stepmother, was not one of them. Vibs was nice enough to Vincent when Vincent’s father was around, but this morning Vincent’s dad was in Minneapolis on a job interview, and that meant that Vincent was likely to get the full force of her awfulness.
In fact, Vincent�
�s dad was actually in Minneapolis on his second interview at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Vincent was terrified that his dad might get the job. Then they would have to leave New York—and his inventions.
On a normal day, that thought would have occupied his mind, but on this particular blue Monday, Vincent was more afraid of what Vibs would do when she turned around to find the great Huli Wigman chief in her kitchen. But she didn’t turn around.
“Why are you blue this morning, Vincent?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Vincent answered.
“No, Mom. I mean he is blue,” Anna insisted.
“We all get a little blue from time to time, Anna. Now be quiet and eat your breakfast,” Vibs said.
Gwen walked in and sat down next to Vincent. The noise from her headphones drowned out the awful sound of Anna chomping away on her cereal.
“VANCE, WOULD YOU PLEASE PASS THE MILK?” Gwen said. Vincent passed the milk. Gwen didn’t notice he was blue.
Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all, Vincent thought to himself.
But that thought was interrupted by a scream.
“WHAT DID YOU DO NOW?” Vibs yelled. “Is this some kind of joke? Do you think this is funny? Are you trying to hurt me? IS THAT IT? YOU WANT TO HURT ME? Why do you always have to be so weird?”
Vincent could feel his eyes watering. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop from crying.
“Get upstairs and wash your face,” Vibs said as she pointed to the bathroom at the top of the stairs.
“I—” his voice cracked. “I already tried.”
“Well, try again!”
Vincent got up and walked out of the kitchen. He passed Stella on the stairs.
“Why so blue?” Stella said with a smile.
Vincent ignored her, walked up the stairs, and slammed his bedroom door behind him.
“What’s wrong with Vincent?” Stella asked her mom as she walked into the kitchen.
“I have no idea what’s wrong with that boy,” Vibs replied.
THE MINI APPLE
3
Vincent’s dad, Norton Shadow, had been the assistant director at the Metropolitan Museum of Art for as long as Vincent could remember. Vincent was born in New York City and his parents practically raised him at “the Met.” He loved the Met. Or at least he did until his mom died.
Vincent’s mother had been an artist. On weekends, she and Vincent would spend hours walking through the Met, looking at all the wonderful paintings. In fact, that’s where Vincent learned to draw.
His mother taught him how to recreate works by Picasso, DalÍ, Escher, and Hopper. It had been years since anyone had seen Vincent without a black Moleskine notebook. He carried one everywhere he went, but it was toy inventions, not art, that now filled the pages of his notebooks.
Vincent hadn’t set foot inside the Met in over two years. Not since his mother died. It wasn’t the same without her. And his father wasn’t the same without her either.
After his mother’s death, Vincent’s dad threw himself into his work. So did Vincent. With his dad out of the house, Vincent was able to spend hours in the secret attic lab his mom had helped him build. But all that changed one day when his dad wandered into an online chat room for widowed parents. That is where he met Vibs. They were married shortly thereafter and Vibs and her daughters moved to New York.
Vibs was from Minnesota. Vincent had visited the Mayo Clinic when his mom was sick and remembered Minnesota as painfully cold. He had no interest in ever returning to the Mayo or to Minnesota again. But if his father was offered the job at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Vincent knew he would be leaving New York forever.
A WALK IN THE PARK
4
Vincent waited until Vibs had left for work to go downstairs.
“So, what’s up with the blue skin?” Stella asked as Vincent walked into the kitchen.
“Don’t ask. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“All right. Well, come on, little boy blue. We’re going to be late for school,” Stella said as she lifted her overstuffed backpack.
Even though they were in many of the same classes, Vincent’s backpack was much lighter than Stella’s. He didn’t take school as seriously as she did. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it; it was just that he’d sometimes think about other things. An entire class could pass without him hearing a single word the teacher said. That never happened to Stella.
As far as stepsisters went, Vincent thought Stella was okay. They weren’t exactly best friends, but Stella made him laugh and it was nice to finally have someone to eat lunch with in the cafeteria.
“Oh, wait. Mom left your migraine medicine out for you,” Stella said, motioning to the large pill sitting on the kitchen counter.
Mom? Vincent thought to himself. She wasn’t his mom. Vincent grabbed a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water, and carefully pretended to swallow the pill. He cupped the pill in his hand and made a loud gulping sound. He had to do this magic routine every morning, and every morning everyone fell for it.
Vincent and Stella were already late for school. This didn’t bother Vincent, but Stella hated to be late for anything.
“Come on, walk faster,” she said as they cut through Central Park.
Even though Vincent was in no hurry to see Jeff Benz and find out what horrible nickname awaited him, he was now running to keep up with Stella. And the sight of a small blue boy chasing after a young girl didn’t go unnoticed… even in New York City.
But just before he could catch up to Stella, Vincent saw streaks of light and everything went blurry. Vincent knew this would be followed quickly by total darkness. He looked around for a park bench—too late. He couldn’t see a thing.
“Wait,” Vincent yelled to Stella. But she was already out of earshot.
Something was now coming at him out of the darkness. It was small and moving fast. Maybe a football, he thought. As it got closer, Vincent could see it had teeth. No, fangs. Razor-sharp fangs with globs of drool hanging off them. This was no ordinary ball. This ball had fierce red eyes and a piglike snout bent backward. Its mouth was open wide and it was definitely on the attack. Instinctively, Vincent fell to the ground just as the ball was inches from his face.
This was Vincent Shadow’s 49th toy idea. He called it the “Biting Beast Ball.” A football with a mouth. Pull the Beast Ball’s tongue and its mouth would open to reveal “razor-sharp” foam fangs. Throw the ball just like you would a regular football, but instead of catching the ball, watch it bite onto your opponent’s arm.
“Are you okay, Vin?” he heard Stella ask. “Is it a migraine?”
The Beast Ball was floating in front of Vincent. It was the only thing he could see.
“I’m okay. Can you just help me up?”
Stella took Vincent by the hand and led him to a bench near Turtle Pond.
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to get out of going to school with blue skin?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Vincent said with a smile.
“Your dad said your migraines could be blinding, but I had no—”
“I’m fine,” Vincent cut her off. “I just need a few minutes. You go on to school and I’ll be right behind you.”
“Do you really think I would leave you like this? In Central Park?”
“Hey, I’m a blue kid on a park bench,” Vincent said. “That’s weird even by New York standards. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s none of my business,” Stella’s voice softened, “but maybe if you took your migraine medicine you wouldn’t have this problem.”
“Amazing,” Vincent accidentally said out loud as he turned the Beast Ball around in his head.
“I’m just looking out for you.”
“No. Yeah, wait—what do you mean, Stella? I do take my pills. Every morning.” He tried to sound convincing.
“Do I look as stupid as the others?”
“I don’t know,” Vincent said with a smirk on
his face. “Remember, I can’t see.”
“I watch you throw the pills in the sink or slip them in your pocket.”
Vincent smiled. “Busted.”
“So why don’t you take them? Maybe it would help.”
Vincent hesitated. “I would take migraine medicine if I had migraines.”
Stella stared at him expectantly.
“I would rather not talk about it,” Vincent continued. “Please don’t tell my dad. He can’t know that I had one of my attacks.”
“I’m sure he just wants what’s best for you, Vincent.” Stella now sounded concerned.
Vincent desperately wanted to tell her the truth, but he didn’t think she would understand. The visions. The inventions. The lab. All of it. It was a secret he and his mother had kept and he knew it was best if it stayed that way.
“I’ll be okay. Can you just take me back home? A little sleep and I’ll be good as new.”
THE DISCOVERY
5
“Hey, that inventor you like is on the front page of the newspaper,” Stella said as she and Vincent crossed the street a few blocks from their house.
“Which inventor?” Vincent liked several inventors. “Nikola Tesla? Thomas Edison? Howard Whiz?”
“The guy you named your bird after.”
“Nikola Tesla,” Vincent answered. “Wait! Stop walking!” Vincent now desperately wished the Beast Ball would go away so he could see clearly. “What does the article say?”
“A big headline says ‘TESLA ARTIFACTS DISCOVERED’ and there’s a picture of him,” Stella said as she started to pull Vincent forward. “Come on, Vin. I’m already late for first period.”
Vincent shook his hand loose from her grip and pulled two dollars out of his pocket. At least he thought it was two dollars, but he couldn’t say for sure.