I almost had to run to keep up. "Do you have family here or something?"
"More like a role model." He stopped at the open door of a room at the end of the hall. A man was yelling inside.
Tommy walked in, but I held back. The yelling man sounded pretty angry; I wondered if he might be dangerous.
"Mr. Diogenes?" said Tommy.
It was then that I heard another voice, deep as rolling thunder. "Thomas? Is that you?"
"Sure is," said Tommy. "So what's his problem?"
The yelling man's voice burst out louder than ever. "I'll tell you what my problem is! That blind fiend with his mind control powers! He must be eliminated!"
Finally, I took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. Inside, Tommy was standing at the foot of the bed nearest the door. An old man lay there, propped up on pillows; he was heavyset, with a round face and tar-black eyebrows that didn't seem to fit in with his wavy silver hair.
"Hey, Mr. D." Tommy squeezed the old man's foot through the bedsheet. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Josh. He's helping me with my labors."
Mr. Diogenes stared in my general direction but didn't look right at me. "Hello there, Josh." Maybe the yelling man had been right about him being blind.
"Nice to meet you, sir." I smiled, though I didn't think he could see me.
Maybe the yelling man had been listening, because he started shouting again as soon as Tommy finished introducing me. "Josh! Don't listen to your alien overlords! They will turn this planet into rancid marshmallow if they aren't stopped!"
"What's his problem?" said Tommy.
"A total lack of self-control." Mr. Diogenes sighed. "They call him Boombox. He moved in three days ago, which coincidentally was the last time I got any sleep."
A gray curtain hanging from a track in the ceiling divided the room. I craned my neck to look around it, but all I saw of Boombox were his big, bare feet at the end of his bed.
"I can't take it anymore, Thomas." Mr. Diogenes grimaced. "I'm cracking up, I swear."
"Don't listen to him!" Boombox's voice was louder than ever. "He's the one driving me insane! When no one's around, he divides into multiple six-inch-tall clones with purple eyes! They've already made a dozen attempts on my life!"
"I see what you mean, Mr. D." Tommy gave his foot another squeeze under the sheet. "Want me to get him out of here for you?"
"Really?" Mr. Diogenes tipped his head forward. "You could do that?"
"What are you saying about me over there?" said Boombox. "What wickedness are you up to now?"
Tommy grinned. "It'll be untraceable, Mr. D. Just say the word."
Mr. Diogenes didn't hesitate. "Consider it said, Thomas."
"Consider it done, Mr. D." Tommy winked at me as he walked over to the edge of the curtain closest to the head of Boombox's bed. He pushed the curtain open a little, then turned his back toward Boombox's side of the room.
Sightless Mr. Diogenes angled his head toward Tommy, listening for what he was going to do next. He didn't react when Tommy popped the button on his filthy bluejeans, but his dark eyebrows went up at the sound of Tommy unzipping his fly.
As for me, I was about ready to duck out the door...but my curiosity held me in place. I was dying to know how Tommy planned to get rid of Boombox. What did unzipping his jeans have to do with it?
It didn't take long to find out.
Tommy eased the seat of his jeans down, exposing his bare butt. It looked much cleaner than the rest of him, which surprised me; the skin of his backside was actually pink instead of brown and gray.
Next, Tommy shuffled back a step and bent over, pushing his naked butt between the curtain and wall into Boombox's space. Boombox was silent, which made me think he hadn't turned yet and seen that butt staring him in the face.
Tommy closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and hunkered down a little further. The room was silent for one more moment.
And then it exploded with a great, shuddering fart.
BLOOOOOORRRRTTTT!
The first blast sounded like a bowling ball knocking down ten pins all at once. I'd never heard a fart that explosive in my life.
And apparently, the noise wasn't the worst of it.
"Yaaahhh!!" Boombox cried out right away, as if the shot had scared him...but then, as the blast faded, he howled again. "Ewwww! That horrible smell!"
Tommy opened his eyes and flashed a nasty grin in my direction. Then, he returned to his work, scrunching up his face as he bore down for another blast.
The second fart was louder than the first. It sounded like booming fireworks, followed by a high-pitched screech.
POOOOOOOMMMM
SQUEEEEEEETTT
"Aarrgh!" Boombox coughed so hard, he gagged. "Stop it! Stop that stiiink!"
But there was no stopping Tommy now. With a chuckle, he bore down a third time, letting loose an extended rumble like rolling thunder. Just as it trailed off, he fired a whistling whine that rose and fell, rose and fell, like someone playing an oboe in the school orchestra.
WEE-OOO WEE-OOO WEE-OOO
"Ack!" Past the end of the curtain, I saw Boombox's feet scramble off the bed. "No more! Please, stop!" Again, he descended into relentless coughing.
But Tommy would show no mercy. His next fart was a modulated squeal like screeching tires, followed by a series of stuttering bangs like popping firecrackers.
SKEE-EE-EE-EE-EE
PAK-AK-AK P-KAK
By then, I started to understand why Boombox was making a fuss. Tommy's gas had begun to sift over to our side of the room, and the stink was truly foul.
I waved my hand in front of my face, but it did no good. The smell continued to strengthen, like the putrid aroma of a hundred loaded diapers splattered with twenty dozen rotten eggs.
"PEE-YEWWW!" Boombox knocked something over, and it clattered to the floor. "Oh, it's awful!"
SHWEEEE-OO-EET
SHPLOOOORRRT
"What do you want from me?" Boombox knocked over something else. "What do I have to do to get you to stop?"
"Get out!" said Tommy. "And never come back!"
BLAAAAAATT
Boombox launched into another coughing fit. "You mean...KAFF KOFF...find another room?"
BEEEYOWWWW
Tommy started shuffling backward into Boombox's space. "I mean find another nursing home!"
BORRR-BORRR-BOOORRRRRT
Suddenly, the curtain whipped aside, and I got my first look at Boombox. He was tall, at least six feet, and lanky; he was also surprisingly young. He looked to me like he was in his late twenties or thirties, with shaggy blond hair and no wrinkles.
He staggered straight toward me, reaching out with both hands. "Please help me! KAFF KAFF HAK! Tell him to stop!"
I was coughing myself as I backed away, holding my arm over my nose and mouth to cut the stench.
Boombox's face turned angry. "You've got to help me!" He made a sudden lunge at me...
FLOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRTTTTT
And I swear, the force of Tommy's fart knocked him over. As his body crumpled to the floor, Tommy stood revealed behind him, bare butt aimed in his direction.
Tommy grinned at me. "You okay there, Josh?"
My eyes watered. Unfortunately, I'd been in the line of fire of that last blast. "I'm fine." My voice sounded funny because I was pinching my nose shut and holding my breath as I said it.
"Cool." Tommy kicked Boombox, who didn't move a muscle. "And this dope is out cold."
"Why was he in here, anyway?" I was still holding my breath as I spoke. "He's too young for this place, isn't he?"
"He's some kind of head case," said Mr. Diogenes. "Can't take care of himself, supposedly. But I heard him talking to some people, and I think it's all a put-on. He said something about faking it to get disability payments."
"Well, let's go find a nurse to cart his carcass out of here," said Tommy. "And start his transfer in motion."
I let go of my nose and tested the air...then pinched those nostrils shut all over again
. "Hey, Tommy. You might want to hold off a minute on getting that nurse."
He stopped in the doorway. "What?" Just then, another fart burst from inside him.
GOOORRRRTT
He grinned sheepishly and laughed. "Oh, right." He pulled up his pants and zipped them. "Mind if I crack a window, Mr. D.?"
*****
Chapter 6
An hour later, Boombox was gone. A nurse and an orderly came and woke him up with smelling salts, then tried to help him get back in bed. But he wouldn't go. He fought like crazy, begging them to get him out of that room. When they insisted he had to stay there because it was the only available bed in the home, he pushed them aside and stormed out. He said he didn't need to be there in the first place, and he'd rather lose his disability checks than be trapped in that gas chamber again.
When the nurse asked us what he was talking about, we all shrugged. Mr. Diogenes just spun a finger around the side of his head, the international symbol for "crazy."
The nurse lingered a moment longer, scowling with hands on her hips...and then she left us there, and we finally got down to business.
*****
"So, Tommy." Mr. Diogenes folded his hands in his lap and smiled. "Why did you come to see me today?"
Tommy sat down on the edge of the bed at Mr. D.'s feet. "The clue you showed me...the magical relic of Chonganda. Can I borrow it?"
Mr. D. thought it over, then nodded. "Yes, if you'll do me a favor. Will you check in on Gertrude? I haven't seen her since they checked me into this place three weeks ago."
Tommy scratched under his arm, then sniffed his fingers. "My pleasure. You know I'm crazy about her."
"All right then." Mr. Diogenes waved in the general direction of his bedside table. "It's in the top drawer of the nightstand."
I was closest to where he was waving. Tommy gave me a look and bobbed his warty pickle nose toward the nightstand.
I walked over and opened the top drawer. Inside, I saw just one thing: a rolled-up plastic bag with yellow contents. "Is this baggie what you want?"
Mr. D. waved for me to hand it over, and I did. He unrolled it and held it up for us to see what was inside.
"A squished-up piece of corn?" I frowned. "That's the clue?"
Mr. Diogenes nodded solemnly. "Golden corn."
Tommy leaned over and squinted at the baggie. "Well, it's yellow, but I wouldn't call it golden."
"It was," said Mr. D.
"Wait." Tommy's eyes bulged wider. "You mean that's..."
"A piece of the golden barf." Mr. D. nodded. "Exactly. When I first found it, at home, it was solid gold. But a day later, it became an ordinary kernel of corn. I think Chonganda left it behind, and it transformed when he moved away from it."
I grimaced and rubbed my chin. "If it's just ordinary corn, then what makes it a clue?"
Mr. D. grinned. "If it turns into plain corn when it's away from Chonganda..."
"...it should turn back into gold when we close in on him," said Tommy. "It's a Chonganda detector!"
"Bingo bango." Mr. Diogenes leaned forward and held out the bag for Tommy. "Just keep an eye on this at all times as you follow his trail."
"I will, Mr. D." Tommy took the baggie. "Thank you."
"Any time, Thomas." Mr. D. leaned back on his pillows, nodding. "You're a good friend."
Tommy got up from the bed. "And I'm following in your footsteps, don't forget."
"Well, you'd better get those footsteps right out the door," said Mr. D. "Who knows how much longer Chonganda will be in town?"
"True dat." Tommy headed for the door.
"Just one more thing, Thomas." Mr. D. wagged a finger in Tommy's general vicinity. "Remember, you'll need an anchor when you get to the other side."
"I'll remember." Tommy kept moving toward the door, motioning for me to come with him.
"Otherwise, Thomas..." Mr. Diogenes tossed up his hands and shrugged. "You might never come back."
Tommy paused on his way out the door. "Got it, Mr. D." Then, he marched out into the hall with me on his heels and a piece of squished-up corn in a baggie in his filth-encrusted hand.
*****
Chapter 7
"I love nursing homes," Tommy said as we charged out of Nemean Manor. "They're so messy."
I had to speed-walk to keep up with him. "Where to now?"
Tommy cut left and marched down the street. "We finished the second labor when we got rid of Boombox, so we're off to tackle the third."
"And there are four labors total."
"Ding ding ding!" Tommy pretended to pull a cord and ring a bell. "Give the man a ham sandwich! Or would you settle for a piece of corn?" He tossed the baggie with the corn kernel at me.
I caught it. "You really think this will turn to gold when we get close to Chondaga?"
"It's 'Chonganda,'" said Tommy, "and you tell me. Watch that thing like a hawk and give me a shout-out the second it starts to change."
I frowned at the piece of corn in the baggie. Did I really think it might turn to pure gold when we got near the son of the god of vomit? I'd be lying if I said I did.
But I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't curious about how this would all end. Things had been crazy since Tommy had entered my life...crazy in a good way. I had a feeling they would only get crazier.
Whether he was totally nuts, or truly tuned in to some kind of twisted magic, I couldn't just bail out now. Honestly, I was having too much fun.
Though one thing did keep nagging at me. "Where's 'the other side,' Tommy?"
"Huh?" Tommy was digging in his ear with his pinky finger.
"Mr. D. mentioned it. He said you'd need an anchor when you get there, or you might never come back."
Tommy chuckled and pulled his pinky out of his ear. The jagged tip of the nail was coated in bright yellow goop. "It's nothing to worry about, Josh. I've got it covered."
"Okay, but what is it?"
He stared at the goop, turning his pinky back and forth. Then, he raised it to his mouth and darted out his tongue to taste it. I felt a little like gagging when I saw him do it.
I actually did gag when he stuck the goopy pinky in my face.
"Want some?" He raised his eyebrows.
I flinched and grimaced. "No, I don't want some."
Tommy sighed and took his finger out of my face. "Then maybe it's better if you don't know yet."
"Don't know what?"
"About the other side." With that, Tommy stuck his pinky in his mouth and yanked it out goop-free. Then, with a wink, he started running down the street.
I gagged again just thinking about the ear goop. Maybe not everything about Tommy was crazy in a good way.
Shaking my head, I ran after him.
*****
Chapter 8
Tommy didn't slow down until we were out past the edge of town, on a tree-lined road. Even then, he didn't stop moving...just switched from a run to a walk.
I think he did it for me, because he didn't seem to be winded at all. I, on the other hand, was puffing and wheezing like an elephant riding a tricycle up a hill. My lungs and legs hurt, and I had a major stitch in my side. I wasn't used to running so hard for so long.
"How much...farther?" I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my arm and wished I had a bottle of ice-cold water.
"We're practically there." Tommy looked at the rolled-up baggie in my left hand. "Any change in the corn?"
I held up the baggie and let it unroll. Nothing but the same old squished-up yellow kernel inside. "No Choganda."
"Chonganda," Tommy corrected me. "Well, keep an eye on it. The vomit gods have a way of slipping through your fingers."
Suddenly, the cramp in my side flared up, and I had to stop. I stood on the side of the road, doubled over, with my hands on my knees, and sucked deep breaths through my clenched teeth.
Tommy stopped and looked back. "What's up? Did the corn change?"
I glared at him and shook my head. After a few more deep breaths, I s
traightened. The worst of the cramp had subsided...for now, anyway.
"Okay then." Tommy hawked a huge loogie on the road, then shoved his hand down the back of his jeans for a full-on butt scratch. "Follow me."
With that, he veered off the road. I followed him through the brush and into the trees. The whole time, he never stopped scratching his butt.
We tromped through a scrubby patch of woods to the tune of snapping twigs and rustling leaves. We jumped over a muddy creek and ducked under a fallen tree covered in wedges of brown and white fungus. We crossed a narrow pass between walls of damp rock carpeted with moss.
And on the other side of that pass, we came across the first piece of garbage.
A wadded-up newspaper clung to a tangle of roots, fluttering in the breeze. I looked down at it as we walked by, but didn't think anything of it.
At least until we came to the next piece of trash. This time, it was a dirty diaper, stretched out on the ground ahead of us. The putrid smell caught us as we approached, rising up from the brown and green ooze covering the absorbent white padding.
Tommy crouched down beside it, apparently unaffected by the stink. He took a deep whiff and nodded. "Beef and carrots, if I'm not mistaken." Then, he dipped a finger toward it.
Horrified, I thought he might scoop up some ooze and taste it...but all he did was flip the diaper closed. Then, he got up and continued onward.
Twenty yards later, we found three banana peels on the trail, covered in ants. "Now there's an accident waiting to happen." Tommy laughed as he stepped over them.
I frowned as I dodged the peels myself. "What's with all the garbage?"
Tommy glanced back over his shoulder at me. "You mean you've never been out here before?"
"Never." An open tin can lay at the base of a tree along the path. It looked like it had been licked clean inside; according to the label, it had once been full of applesauce.
Tommy Puke and the Boy with the Golden Barf Page 2