“Freddy,” called out Theodore, who was examining a large, leather-bound book on one of the tables. “Come and look at this.”
They all crowded around the book. The handwriting and diagrams on the pages were neat and clear.
“This must be a log of Finklebean’s inventions,” said Freddy excitedly. “See, there’s his name right there.” He pointed to the inside cover of the book.
Wally picked up a bottle filled with a bright blue liquid off the table and sniffed it.
“Wally,” said Theodore sharply, “Don’t drink that You don’t know what it is.”
Wally sniffed it again. “Not so bad. A combination of mold, lice, and stale fish with just a pinch of body odor.” He took a sip and smacked his lips. “I’ve had worse.”
“Wally, that is gross!” Ziggy exclaimed, horrified.
“IthinkI’mgoingtobesick,” said Curly, who was indeed looking a little greener than usual.
Suddenly Wally grabbed his stomach.
“What’s the matter, Wally?” asked Ziggy. “You look like you’re gonna puke.”
Wally went from purple to green to blue and then back to purple. “No, I think I’m okay —”
But suddenly, fast as a purple wind, Wally shot to the ceiling, bounced off, blasted over to one wall, hit it, and then went zooming across the room to the other side. Everyone dropped to the floor as he rocketed by overhead.
“Wally, can’t you stop?” said Freddy.
“I’m trying, little dude,” Wally yelled back, “But it’s not working.”
Finally, after whizzing around the room for several minutes, Wally finally dropped out of the air and landed with a thud and didn’t move. They all raced over to him.
“Is he dead?” asked Ziggy. “I think he’s dead.”
“He’s not dead,” answered Freddy. “He’s just playing dead. Right, Wally?”
Thankfully, Wally slowly sat up.
“I wonder what that stuff was,” said Freddy, eyeing the bottle.
“I don’t know,” said Wally. “But could I have another little sip?”
“NO!!” Freddy and Ziggy shouted together.
“YEOW!!”
They all turned and saw Si and Meese in the car with the curved wheels. They had somehow started it and were now flying around in circles.
“Let me outta here,” screamed Meese.
Si was driving and looked extremely pleased. “Boy, this baby has some get-up-and-go even if we’re not actually going anywhere.”
Meese finally managed to hit a stop button. When they got out, they were so dizzy that they immediately fell over.
Theodore held up the logbook. “That particular device is listed in here as the ‘Spinner-Winner.’ Finklebean noted that it had no practical application because one couldn’t actually get anywhere in it.”
“Candy,” shouted Wally suddenly. He picked up a single candy bar that had been under another cover. He quickly devoured it in one bite, but one crumb of candy fell to the floor. This tiny piece instantly grew it into another candy bar.
Wally’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and then he looked like he might cry from sheer joy. He ate the second bar, leaving a little crumb behind. It grew into another bar that he ate too. In the space often seconds, he did this a dozen times. “I’m so happy,” he said.
“The Hydra Chocolate Bar,” read Theodore from the logbook. “Billed as the only candy bar you’ll ever need. However, there wasn’t much profit in selling only one to each customer.”
“Geez,” said Freddy, “all I’ve seen are stupid inventions that couldn’t possibly make any money.”
“Well, there is this,” said Theodore, pointing to some complicated plans in the logbook. “I don’t see a corresponding invention here for these drawings.”
Freddy looked at them. “I wonder what it does?”
“It doesn’t say, which is curious, because all of the other plans are meticulously labeled,” replied Theodore.
Freddy snapped his fingers. “I know, we can ask my Dad. Maybe he’ll be able to tell what it is.”
“But, Freddy,” cried Si. “Remember, the door won’t open.”
“I’ll try the Wriggle-Jiggle.”
But, as they were standing there, the door opened all by itself.
Wally was the first through the door. The others dashed after him before the door shut again. As they disappeared down the hallway, something seemed to be watching them go.
CHAPTER 9
SOME FUNKY ANSWERS
When the gang left the Burger Castle, they were stunned to see that construction of the volcano in the empty lot across the street had started. They stood and watched as Harold, using a remote-controlled robotic arm, built a giant frame of wooden boards.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool, Harold,” called out Freddy across the street.
Harold turned around and smiled. “Hey, thanks, Freddy.”
Suddenly Adam popped up from a lounge chair. He had a super large milkshake in one hand and a huge hamburger in the other. “Hey, no talking to the enemy, Pumpernickel,” he yelled. Harold looked afraid.
“I’m sorry, Adam.”
“Hey, hey, what did we talk about, Pumperhead?” demanded Adam.
“Um, I mean, Captain Spanker,” Harold said, glancing nervously at Freddy.
“You wanna give up right now, Freako?” said Adam with a loud snort. “Because you’re not going to be able to beat the volcano.”
“Oh, yeah, you just wait and see what we’re building,” called out Si.
“Yeahjustwaitandsee.Uhwhatexactlyarewe-building, Freddy?” mumbled Curly.
“Atta boy, Curly, you tell him,” called out Si, slapping the green Fry on the back. “Even though I have no idea what you just said, I’m sure it was kick-butt stuff.”
“You dopes don’t have a clue. You’re all losers,” said Adam nastily.
“Just give me the word and I’ll eat Adam for you, Freddy,” said Wally. “Even if he’ll give me really bad gas.”
“The best thing we can do,” said Freddy, “is beat him in the competition.” He held up the logbook. “Come on, let’s go see my dad.”
Alfred Funkhouser was inside the farmhouse working on something when Freddy and the gang arrived.
Alfred pointed at the old logbook Freddy was carrying. “What’s that, son?”
Freddy quickly showed the plans to his father, who started rubbing his chin with his hand, a sure sign his brain was in super-thinking mode.
“Where did you get these plans, Freddy?” he asked, looking at the name “Silas Finklebean” on the logbook’s cover.
Freddy was ready for this. “It was the librarian in town. She knew Silas Finklebean when she was very young. She found this book on the shelf. He must have donated it or something.”
“That’s funny, because it doesn’t have a library card on the back page,” said his father.
Thinking quickly, Freddy said, “Well, it must have come from some special collection. She said no one had ever checked it out before.”
“I see,” said Alfred Funkhouser.
“So what’s your considered opinion, Mr. Funkhouser?” asked Theodore.
“Yeah, Mr. F, let’s have the quick down-and-dirty from that big old noggin of yours,” said Si.
“Well, judging from the drawings and the notations at the bottom of each page, which include standard descriptions of quantum theory, black holes, wormholes, and string theory that serve as the very backbone of the interconnectedness of the entire universe —”
“Me love worms!” shouted Wally.
Alfred smiled. “They’re not those sorts of worms. Anyway, Freddy, to answer your question, I’d say this was a time travel machine.”
“Time travel machine!” exclaimed Freddy.
“Yes. But it’s very curious. The dates in this book are from long ago. Mr. Finklebean must have been a man very much ahead of his time. String theory, for instance, is a fairly recent discovery. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of him. W
ho is he?”
“Just some guy,” said Freddy mysteriously.
“Well, he was obviously very brilliant.”
Freddy took back the logbook.
“What are you going to do with it, Freddy?” asked his father.
“Oh, nothing.” But under his breath Freddy muttered, “I’m going to beat a volcano, that’s what.”
CHAPTER 10
THE STAR OF NANCY
The next night after the restaurant closed, Alfred Funkhouser was putting on his jacket when Nancy walked up. He did a double take because his daughter was dressed in a long gown, pink flamingo sunglasses, and a tiara.
“Father, have you seen my darling little brother, Frederick?” she said in a perfect British accent.
He looked at her, stunned. “Frederick? Uh, are you feeling okay, dear?”
“Fine, why?”
“Well, I’ve never heard you call Freddy anything, well, anything really nice before.”
“Father,” she said haughtily, “whatever do you mean? I’ve always held my dear sibling in the highest regard.”
“I see. Um, that costume.…?” He looked pointedly at her outfit.
“Well, now that I’m a Broadway star, Father, I must dress the part, mustn’t I?”
“A Broadway —”
Nancy interrupted. “So do you know where Frederick is?”
“I think he went into the basement to do something.”
Nancy strutted off, taking imaginary bows to imaginary audiences. Alfred shook his head. He did that a lot with his two rather unique children.
Freddy, the Fries, and Howie were standing inside Finklebean’s secret lab.
“Okay, guys,” said Freddy, “Here’s the list of items in the plans that we’ll need to build the time travel machine, plus some others that I came up with. We’ll take anything useful that we find here.” He eyed Wally. “Just don’t drink or eat anything.”
“Right, Freddy,” said Wally. But behind his back the purple Fry crossed his fingers.
The Fries fanned out. All at once they started pulling off covers and looking in drawers and up on shelves for the items on the list. But after a half hour they had only assembled a few pieces.
Freddy looked at the small pile. “Well, we’ll just have to get the stuff we need from some other place.”
Theodore was also looking at the plans. “That might be a long list,” he said.
“Yeah, Freddy,” said Howie, “and we have to get going on the science project or else you’ll lose the bet and have to wear that stupid Patty Cakes uniform.”
Freddy looked at his friend in exasperation. “Howie, don’t you get it? The time travel machine is our science experiment.”
Howie’s jaw dropped at this news, and then he snapped, “I knew that. What, you think I’m stupid or something?” He stuffed three cheese cubes in his mouth and chomped on them in a huff.
They gathered up everything they had collected and left the lab. On the way back down the passageway they ran into Nancy in her crazy costume.
“Oh, Frederick,” said Nancy in her exaggerated British accent, “I simply must speak with you about the theater project.”
“Theater project?”
“Yes, you know, the one you’re building down here for me.”
Theodore pinched Freddy on the arm. “Oh, theater, right,” said Freddy.
“I was thinking that right over here would be a simply wonderful place for the marquee,” she said, pointing to one of the walls. “My name, of course, will be in lights. Nothing too large. I am amodest superstar after all. I’m thinking just three-or four-foot-high letters.”
“Three or four feet!” cried Freddy.
Nancy put her arm around her little brother. “Now, we need to talk about my dressing room. I want a very large star on the door, of course, and then a small kitchen and a fireplace and lots of closet space. And a telephone. For all those major interviews,” she said. “And also the press conferences and the occasional meeting with some incredibly lucky member of my fan club. And a salon, where I can entertain after the show. Nothing too grand, only enough to hold a few dozen people.”
“A few dozen!” said Freddy, his eyes bulging.
“I’ve drawn up some sketches for what I think the Nancy S. Funkhouser Imperial Theater and Museum should look like.” She handed him a thick sheaf of rolled-up papers.
“Theater and museum?” asked Freddy. “What museum?”
“Well, my public will want a place where they can see costumes I’ve worn in various award-winning plays, as well as signed copies of my marvelous scripts. We can sell T-shirts, baseball caps, coffee mugs, and assorted other memorabilia, all with my picture on them, of course. I have an entire marketing campaign put together to ensure that the Nancy S. Funkhouser Imperial Theater and Museum will be the world’s most popular vacation destination.” She snorted. “Disney World will be a distant second.”
Freddy wanted to say something — actually, he wanted to scream — but nothing would come out.
“Frederick, I can see that you’re positively speechless about my grand ideas, and who can blame you, you adorable little unimportant person who’s attached himself to my star coattails.” She pinched his cheeks. “Well, I must go. I have millions of things to do. Ta-ta.” She blew them all kisses and swept away.
Freddy finally looked over at Theodore, who smiled weakly.
“Well, you must admit, Freddy, the young lady does have a vivid imagination,” commented Theodore.
“She’s a total nutcase!” cried Freddy. “Okay, let’s go, guys,” he said miserably. “We have a science competition to win.”
CHAPTER 11
THE SCIENCE OF COMPETITION
When the gang got outside, Freddy stopped abruptly and the others bumped into him.
“What’s up, Freddio?” asked Si.
Freddy pointed across the street. In front of the Patty Cakes restaurant sat a dilapidated old station wagon and next to it an even more beat-up trash truck.
“I think that’s Harold’s dad’s truck,” said Freddy. “And that’s his mom’s station wagon.”
As they watched, Harold’s entire family came out of the restaurant. Harold had four brothers and sisters. They were carrying big boxes filled with burgers, fries, cakes and pies, and other food. They crammed the boxes inside the station wagon and the cab of the truck. Freddy glanced over at the volcano and saw that Harold was still working on it. Harold turned and waved to his family, who waved back at him.
“Come on, son,” said Harold’s father. “It’s time to go home.”
Right then, Adam Spanker and his father appeared at the door of the Patty Cakes. Freddy and the gang hid behind some bushes and continued to watch.
“He’s got some more work to do,” said Stewie Spanker. “We’ll drive him home in the Cadillac.” He looked at the Pumpernickel’s old cars in disgust. “I’m sure he’d like that a lot better.”
“But it’s late,” said Mrs. Pumpernickel, “and he still has to do his homework.”
“He’s a smart kid. He can do it fast,” said Adam with a snarl.
“And remember,” said Stewie Spanker, “You should be grateful we’re giving you all that food.”
“We are, we are,” said Mrs. Pumpernickel quickly, although her husband didn’t look very happy about it. He was a very big man with thick orange hair like Harold’s, and he wore blue overalls and heavy work gloves.
“I want Harold home in one hour,” Mr. Pumpernickel said. “No later.” He stared down at Stewie Spanker. Then he glanced up at his son on the volcano’s frame. “Harold, you be careful up there, son, okay?”
“Okay, Dad.”
The Pumpernickels got in their vehicles and drove off. The Spankers immediately rushed over to Harold.
“Okay, listen up, pumpkin head,” said Adam. “We’re running behind schedule, so you better start working harder.”
“I’m working as hard as I can, Adam.”
“Hey, hey, what a
re you forgetting?”
Harold sighed. “I mean, Captain Spanker.”
“You don’t want Freddy Freako to win, do you?” snapped Adam.
“I think the person with the best project should win. That’s what’s fair.”
Stewie Spanker roared, “Fair has nothing to do with it. Winning is everything. And don’t you forget it, you little twerp.” He turned and stomped away.
Adam scowled at Harold. “So you just better do what you’re told or there’ll be no more food for your family. Got it?” Then he stormed off, leaving behind a very depressed Harold.
Freddy and the gang had heard all of this.
Theodore rubbed his chin like Alfred Funkhouser did when he was thinking hard. “So that’s why Harold is working with Adam. His family needed food.”
Freddy looked crestfallen. “I didn’t know they were that bad off. We would have given them any food they needed.” Freddy stared over at Harold working all alone on the big volcano, and he got a very determined look on his face. “Come on, guys, we’re going to help Harold.”
“Are you nuts?” cried Howie. “We’re in a competition, Freddy. We can’t help them win. Heck, we haven’t even started our project.”
“There are some things more important than winning,” said Freddy.
“Good grief,” complained Howie. “What kind of thinking is that?”
Theodore smiled. “I believe one might call it the beginning of wisdom.”
They trooped over to Harold and told him what they’d come to do.
He was overwhelmed. “But, Freddy, I don’t know what to say.”
“The only thing you have to say, Harold, is what you want us to do,” replied a smiling Freddy.
The gang started working alongside Harold. While Harold wasn’t looking, Curly used his long arms to bring boards and rolls of chicken wire up onto the wooden frame, where Ziggy would nail them in under Harold’s direction. They mixed up the goop that would be used to cover the frame and chicken wire to make it look like a volcano. Very soon, they had Harold way ahead of schedule.
The Mystery of Silas Finklebean Page 4