by Jo Franklin
“And now?”
I shrugged.
Eddie raised his solidarity eyebrows and patted me on the back.
“How are we going to get rid of Mr. Star Trek?” he asked.
I had the answer, and it didn’t involve a ladder. “It’s okay—he’s wearing a red shirt. He’ll do as he’s told,” I said. I’d seen every episode of Star Trek ever made and all the movies. The characters in the red shirts were from Engineering. They never argued with the captain.
“Excuse me!” I shouted up.
The guy ignored me.
“Hey, Trekkie!”
He peered down.
“Captain Kirk wants you on the bridge!”
The man nodded, climbed down the ladder, and disappeared into the crowd.
Eddie climbed the ladder, all eight steps of it, the cable in his hand.
“You ready, Gordon?” I called over to the Geek.
He gave a thumbs-up, and Eddie inserted the plug into the socket.
The searchlight went off for a second. When it came on again, the Duplo model hovered directly over the playground.
“Vroom, vroom!” my little brother shouted in delight.
The Returners went crazy. The crowd surged forward as one.
The flaming torches had gone out, but even flames would not have stopped them. Every single Returner wanted to be on that Duplo spacecraft. They moved toward the playground, directly below Gordon’s projection—the playground, where Mom and Dad were tied up.
“Mom and Dad are going to be crushed!” Jessie screamed.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Timmy yelled, and burst into tears.
“Move the spaceship!” I shouted up to Eddie. But he couldn’t hear me over the cries of the nutjob Returners.
It didn’t matter that they weren’t perfect parents. They were the only parents I had, and I didn’t want them to be crushed to death. Eddie didn’t realize the danger they were in. I had to move that searchlight.
Eight steps is a lot when you don’t like heights.
I gripped the handrails and put my foot on the first step. There was chaos all around me—people screaming, tripping over each other as they rushed to reach the alien spaceship—but I had to concentrate.
Second step. Third step. I moved quickly before my brain could register what I was doing. I didn’t look at the ground. I kept my eyes focused on the ladder rungs right in front of my nose. My feet did the work of pushing me upward. I did the rest, keeping my brain from telling me to be afraid.
The alien spaceship wasn’t real. We’d put it there. It was an illusion. A bit like the danger of climbing an eight-step ladder. I couldn’t die from falling off this tripod. No one was going to Kepler 22b on that Duplo spaceship. But Mom and Dad could die if those nutters trampled all over them.
Seventh step. Eighth step and I’d done it. I hauled myself up beside Eddie, grabbed the searchlight, and swung it away.
As the Duplo spaceship moved across the sky, a cry of panic rose from the crowd. They must have thought it was leaving without them. Every single Returner on Park Hill Fields broke ranks and stumbled down the hill, following the fake spacecraft.
“Leave it hanging over the school,” Eddie said. “Who knows, they might have to cancel classes tomorrow if the building is occupied.”
“Let’s get Mom and Dad,” I said.
Eddie scrambled off the ladder first. The ground shimmered as I looked down, but I wasn’t going to let a little bit of vertigo get in my way now. I jumped after him and ran to my human parents.
I ripped the gag away from Mom’s mouth. “Daniel!” she croaked as I fumbled to undo the industrial-size cable ties at her wrists.
“Careful,” Eddie said. “Those are police-issue restraints. You might tighten them accidentally. I’ll show you how to release them. You okay, Mr. Kendal?” He helped Dad to his feet.
I led Mom away from the rendezvous point.
“Mommy!” Timmy yelled, and grabbed her around the knees. She lifted her handcuffed hands over his head and hugged him close.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she croaked, and buried her face in his hair.
Dad joined us. “Well done, kids,” he said. “But will someone tell me what’s going on?”
“I think it was a case of mistaken identity,” I said, and hugged my average-height, balding, totally human dad.
30
The Trouble with the Police
It took us ages to get home. I suggested that Mom and Dad ride the bikes so they could get home quickly, but every time Mom tried to say goodbye, she grabbed the nearest child and sobbed into her or his hair. Or, in my case, chest. She couldn’t reach the top of my head.
“I think it would be prudent to stick together,” Gordon said, edging away from my overwrought mother to avoid being hugged and cried on.
“I agree,” Dad said. “We thought we might be separated forever. I want all of you where I can see you.” He grabbed Jessie by the shoulders and me by the waist and pulled us in for a group hug.
Then we started home. Eddie buzzed around us on his mini motorbike. Mom pushed her bike along, with Timmy in his child seat, and I pushed mine. Gordon trailed behind.
Police sirens wailed on the other side of town, over toward our school.
“Sounds like the whole police force is out,” Dad said.
“I guess we’ll have to tell them we were kidnapped,” Mom said wearily.
“If you do that, you’ll have to go down to the station,” Eddie said.
“They might not believe you,” Gordon added. “You could be arrested and locked up in the same cell as your kidnappers.”
“I don’t want that!” Mom wailed. “I just want to get home safely and lock the door and forget that all this happened.”
Dad didn’t say anything, but his deep worry lines were back.
I tried to send him a telepathic message: Don’t call the police. Don’t call the police. I hoped Gordon and Eddie were sending it too. Best-friend telepathy was working, and this time we were all thinking the same thing. We didn’t want to explain ourselves to the police.
When we turned the corner onto Beechwood Road, a police car was already parked outside our house.
My stomach lurched. It wasn’t vertigo this time, it was police-ophobia. I’d caught it from Eddie.
“I’m off.” Eddie revved up his shady motorbike. “Will you be all right now, Mr. Kendal?”
“Sure, Ed. Thanks for your help.” Dad slapped him on the back.
“I’ll head home as well,” Gordon said.
“Do you think you can convert my bike to methane?” Eddie asked Gordon as they turned to leave. “Farts are methane, right?”
“Of course,” Gordon said. “Methane is a form of natural gas. It is possible to convert a gasoline combustion engine to run off natural gas.”
“Great.”
“See you tomorrow,” I called after them. “If I’m not under arrest.”
Just before Eddie turned the corner, I heard a sound. It might have been the motorbike backfiring, but on the other hand, it probably wasn’t.
A police officer climbed out of the police car as we reached the house. I felt as if I’d just entered the chasm of doom. Everything I’d done during the day had been illegal one way or another.
“Did you report the theft of a satellite dish?” the police officer asked Dad.
“I did, but it’s back now.” Dad pointed to the dish on the front wall.
“Wasting police time is a very serious matter,” the police officer said. “Are you sure you’re the owner of this house? I was expecting someone Japanese.” The police officer pointed to our stupid house name, Konnichiwa.
“I thought it was more interesting than calling the house ‘Hello.’” Dad looked embarrassed, but I don’t think the police officer noticed.
“Has your satellite dish been stolen or not?”
“No, sorry,” Dad said. “I was mistaken.”
The police officer took out his notebook and looked
us over suspiciously.
“Something highly suspect is going on. The school has been taken over for some kind of unauthorized festival. You aren’t part of that, are you?”
Dad might be unwilling to discuss how I came to be born, but he’d never lie to the police. I had to speak for him.
“We were at the park,” I said. “For a family picnic.”
The police officer eyed us up and down.
“Where’s your picnic basket?” he said. “And your blanket?”
“Some crazies dressed as Star Trek characters stole them,” I said.
The police officer nodded wisely.
“Well, I’d better go see what they’re up to.” He put his notebook away. “Should I consider the case of the missing satellite dish closed?”
“Yes, please,” Dad said. “Sorry to waste your time, officer.”
“Good night.” The police officer nodded curtly and left.
“Thanks, Bean,” Dad said when he’d gone. “I thought we were going to be arrested.”
“Would you mind calling me Dan from now on?”
“Of course, Dan.” Dad reached up and patted me on the shoulder.
“Hope he arrests Serena Blake. Then I can have her part in the school play,” Jessie said.
“Let’s go inside,” Mom said. “No wonder the police officer thought we were part of that mob. Just look at us! Timmy out in public in his pajamas, Jessie’s hair in a haystack, and your jeans halfway up your legs, Bean—I mean Dan. You’ve grown again. We’ll go on a special mother-and-son shopping trip next weekend.”
“You aren’t going shopping without me,” Jessie said.
Mom looked at me, one solidarity eyebrow raised. The Kendal-family telepathy was working overtime. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s make it a family trip.”
Jessie raised her hand up for a high-five. I slapped it playfully away.
Mom and Dad exchanged one of their telepathically charged looks and smiled.
“Come on, Timmy, time for bed,” Mom said. “I was thinking, Dan . . . would you mind switching rooms with Timmy? There’d be more room for his train set and Duplo bricks in the room you have now. We could get a loft bed for the smaller room.”
“Cool!” I said. “Can I have my own laptop? I know where we can get a really good deal.”
“Not fair! If he’s getting a computer, I’m getting a computer,” Jessie said.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Dad said. “Right now all I want is a cup of coffee.” He ushered us into the house and shut the door, leaving the crazy world of Returners and aliens outside.
31
The True Meaning of Friendship
“Does your dad have any more of those laptops?” I asked Eddie the next day at school.
“I think so. But you won’t need a laptop on Kepler 22b,” Eddie said.
“Different voltage,” Gordon said.
“The Kepler 22b mission is officially over,” I said.
“Thank goodness for that. Daniel Kendal has landed.” Eddie stuffed a fistful of potato chips into his mouth.
“Glad you’re staying,” Gordon said without looking up from his laptop screen.
I’m so lucky. I have the two best friends on Earth.
If there were alien kids on Kepler 22b, they were going to have to do without me. I’d be staying right here. We humans have to stick together.
About the Author
JO FRANKLIN went to college in London but spent most of her time going to see bands. When she graduated, she gave up being a post-punk Indie rock chick and began to write. I’m an Alien and I Want to Go Home is her first novel. She lives in England.
Learn more at www.jofranklinauthor.co.uk