by Jody Feldman
His dad laughed.
“You told me to have fun.”
“So I did.”
Gil pulled himself up and regained his bearings. “Where do we go now?”
“Good morning, Gil.” The angelic voice rolled across every pane of glass.
Gil looked all around but saw no one.
“Welcome to the Gollywhopper Games,” the voice said. “Please continue through the appropriate door.”
There were eight. The one straight ahead, however, pulsed with a golden glow. Behind that door, another room with its muted blue walls and fluffy-cloud ceiling made Gil feel almost as if he were standing in the middle of the sky. Two hot-air balloons hovered at the top, suspending a welcome banner. Underneath sat five wooden footlockers, rounded like pirate treasure chests.
Gil’s dad shook his head. “You can’t hate this place,” he said.
Gil went over to the trunk with his name engraved on top. Dangling above, a poster-sized purple envelope read,
Lavinia’s was the only envelope already opened. Gil tugged his loose from the kelly green ribbon suspending it from the ceiling. He reached in and pulled out the yellow paper.
Dear Gil,
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was…STOP!
Wait. Cease. Desist. Fast forward. Here. Now.
No more past. No more future.
Concentrate. Here. Now.
Plug in your brain. Rev up your mind. Stretch out your legs.
This may be the most amazing day you’ll experience. Ever.
A whirlwind of sights.
An explosion of sounds.
A feast for your senses.
All wrapped in a tangle of games.
You’ve already won everything inside this trunk, including some items dating back to once upon a time. Exactly what? You’ll have to wait.
DO NOT OPEN THE TRUNK NOW. There will be a time and a place and a purpose for everything. Remember that.
Best of luck,
Golly Toy and Game Company
P.S. Leave the letter and envelope here, and follow the blinking green arrows.
“What green arrows?”
His father pointed down.
“Right,” said Gil. “Because if you’re looking for blinking arrows, you expect to find them sunk into the floor.”
Gil read the letter once more, trying to memorize it for any clues he might need later. Then, with his dad beside him, he followed the green arrows to the right, down hallways lined with framed documents, signed and stamped with gold seals. Seals as in animals.
They ended at a green door, guarded by a redheaded woman dressed in jeans and a green shirt. “Gil, you’re here!” she said like a long-lost friend. “I’m Carol. Nice to meet you both. Gil, when you’re ready, go right in and wait for the rest of your team. And Mr. Goodson, stay put for a sec. We’ll show you to the spectator area, a luxury section above the action. Perfect view.”
His dad gave Gil a firm squeeze around his shoulders. “So long,” he said.
“See ya,” Gil replied.
“Adios.”
“Aloha.”
“Shalom.”
Gil turned toward the door, which opened by itself. “Sayonara.” He took a last glance over his shoulder and stepped inside. On a shining wooden floor stood a massive wooden table surrounded by sixteen burgundy leather chairs. An imposing bookcase guarded the corner. It was all serious and businesslike. The rest of the room, though, was lit like a giant party. Balloons bobbed, masking every inch of the ceiling. Fun house mirrors saluted like soldiers on either side of a second door. Giant streamers and noisemakers popped out of vases like flowers. Murals of kids, animals, cartoon characters, food, and toys splashed the walls.
It took Gil a moment to realize Lavinia was already there, looking very small in one of those chairs. Her hair was gathered in a turquoise ribbon and her intertwined fingers gripped one another on top of the table.
“Hi,” Gil said. “You look as nervous as I am.”
Lavinia shrugged. “I keep trying to fool myself that this is like any other scholarship competition, but the gorilla rocking chair over here makes that hard to remember.”
“So does this guy.” Gil popped the bounce-back wrestler in the gut a few times.
“Like Mother says, if we keep our focus, we should win.” Lavinia gave a sharp nod like she was trying to convince herself. “Any words of wisdom from your father?”
“He mostly reminded me to have fun.”
“Well. That is one way to look at it.”
“I guess.” He popped the wrestler in the stomach again. And again. And again.
Soon the door opened for Thorn. Not a minute later, Rocky and Bianca and the redheaded woman swept in.
“Hey, Green Team. Have a seat at the table. As I said, my name is Carol, and I’ll be your teacher, your mom, your best friend, your worst enemy, your only contact for this portion of the Gollywhopper Games. You have questions, you ask me. You need to go to the bathroom, you ask me. You need a Band-Aid, you ask me.
“And if you ask me, you’re lucky I’m here because I can be a lot of fun—until you stop following the rules. And that’s when I turn into your worst nightmare.” Carol raised her auburn eyebrows and flashed a mischievous grin. Then she paced once around the table, smiling and nodding.
“Now, don’t ask for hints,” she continued. “I won’t give them to you. Don’t try to bribe me for answers. I wouldn’t tell you even if I had them. What I will give you is a guarantee. This day will be one of the most memorable of your lives, win or lose. And I don’t like to lose.
“I have this friendly wager with Bill, my counterpart on the red team. You win, and he shaves off every hair from his head. They win, and I shave mine. I like this curly stuff on top of my head. Don’t make me lose it. Make me proud.
“How do you start?” Carol leaned on the table for emphasis. “You act like a team. You entered this competition as individuals, but that changes right now. Depend on one another’s strengths. Forgive one another’s weaknesses. You need that type of attitude. There’s a variety of challenges today. And my guess is, any one of you would be hard-pressed to complete them all by yourself. So let’s talk about these challenges and the procedures.
“Think of this as a big treasure hunt with one activity leading to the next. You’ll have five puzzles you must solve. Each puzzle alternates with a stunt you must perform.”
Carol took a seat at the head of the table. “Now, this may sound confusing, but I promise, once you get in there, things’ll run as smoothly as a greased pig through buttered hands.” Carol referred to the piece of paper in front of her.
“Okay,” Carol continued. “Try to follow this. I will lead you to a large warehouse-type area. Inside, you will receive your first puzzle. Each puzzle will have a multiple choice answer—not the same sort of multiple choice you know from school. No. Your choices will be three Golly products. All three will be on a table. The answer to the puzzle is the name of one of those toys or games. Sound easy? It isn’t.
“First, you need to solve the puzzle. Be sure your solution makes sense. Be sure you all agree on that solution. Then, and only then, pick up the Golly toy or game that corresponds to the answer. Open it and you’ll find an envelope marked STUNT.
“Inside will be instructions on how to perform an activity. Follow the instructions exactly. When you complete the stunt, you’ll receive the instructions for the next puzzle. Maybe.”
Huh?
“Huh?” said Rocky out loud.
“If you solved the puzzle wrong, it will make you perform the wrong stunt. How will you know you’ve made a mistake? The puzzle you receive at the end of a wrong stunt will be the very same puzzle you thought you already solved. Then you must go back, figure out the right answer, and perform the right stunt.
“And ouch! That will hurt because you’re in a race for time. The team that finishes this treasure hunt with the best time goes on to the next round.”
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br /> “But,” said Rocky, “won’t it take more time to sit around and figure out the puzzles than guess and do the stunts?”
“Oh, Rocky, you dear, misguided child. We’re smarter than that,” said Carol. “Every time you goof, we add a one-minute penalty to your score. So not only have you taken extra time to do more stunts, you also have to deal with those precious extra seconds.”
“But—”
“Hold on, Rocky. I’ll bet you’re still thinking that a one-minute penalty is a small price to pay for a wrong answer, and it’ll take longer than that to work the puzzle.” Carol shook her head. “According to the rules—and we’ve worked very hard on them—you must make a true and logical attempt to solve each puzzle. You must work on each for at least five minutes before you make a random guess. We’ve even installed a five-minute clock visible wherever you are. If you guess wrong, you need to talk it out at least five more minutes before you guess again.”
“What if we’re smart?” said Bianca. “What if we can figure it out in five seconds? Do we sit around for five minutes anyway?”
“No, no,” said Carol. “Each puzzle has a logical answer. And when you find it, you’ll know it’s right. Our distinguished panel of judges will be able to hear everything you say. If your reasoning is solid and you’ve legitimately come up with the answer in less than five minutes, move forward as fast as you can. If you try to fool them, they’ll know. And they’ll stop you.
“Don’t try to take any shortcuts. Any infraction of the rules, any failure to follow directions might cost you much more than a minute. It could cost you…your hair.” Carol’s lips crawled to a huge grin. “Just kidding! Your hair’s safe. Mine’s still at risk.”
She paused and studied her paper again. “That’s it. Any questions?”
Gil wondered if she could repeat all that, maybe after she’d taken a tranquilizer.
“Of course you have questions. Those directions made no sense to you. But we have to make sure you’ve heard them. It’s the law. Or not. But it is our law.” She smiled. “It’s not as complicated as it sounds. Really. It’s as easy as Puzzle-Stunt, Puzzle-Stunt and so on, five times. The whole process will start flowing once you get in there.
“Oh, and the other team? You’ll never see them or hear them. You will, however, hear about them. They’ll be in a duplicate area, performing the same puzzles and stunts in the exact order. All fair and square. Each time they successfully move to the next puzzle, we’ll let you know. And we’ll let them know about you.
“If you’re wondering about the people who brought you here, they’re all safely tucked away upstairs in a sort of stadium luxury box that encircles the entire action area. They’ll be able to get up and move around and see and hear everything that happens on both teams. When you get into the room, look up and wave, then forget about them.
“Also forget about the cameras. Dozens of them are camouflaged, but each side will have ten people running around with handheld cameras, capturing everything. We have microphones planted everywhere to pick up every single whisper. At first you may feel self-conscious, but I promise you’ll be so focused on the task at hand, they’ll soon fade into the sunset.”
Carol handed a stapled set of papers to each person. “We do a lot of research at Golly, especially in the Fairview office, where Bill and I work, and we know some people absorb more by listening and some by reading. So everything I’ve explained is on these sheets. For the next fifteen minutes, all cameras and mikes are off. Take that time to relax and get comfortable with the procedures. Please give one another a chance to read through these. Then you can schmooze all you want. I’ll be right back.” Carol gave a wink and left, the green door closing behind her.
Gil read through the instructions twice, then looked at the clock on the wall. Carol would be back in about seven minutes.
Bianca was twirling her paper around on the table. Lavinia was still studying. Rocky was sitting on the gorilla, folding his sheets into paper footballs, and Thorn had drifted to the far wall, looking bored.
If Gil was going to do anything about the cheating, it would have to be now. He moved toward Thorn. “We haven’t really talked,” Gil said, sticking out his hand. “Gil Goodson.”
Thorn shook it. “Thorn Dewitt-Formey.”
“Is there anything I need to know about you?” asked Gil.
“I don’t believe so.”
“I’m not trying to be rude, but I mean, is there something about your hearing we should know? Something we could help you with?”
“Oh.” Thorn pointed to his ear. “You mean this. Good eyes, Gil.”
“Thanks. It’s just that I knew a girl,” Gil lied, “who was hearing impaired, and it helped if we got her attention first. Should we do anything like that?”
“No. Not necessary. This thing is state of the art. I can hear whispers at thirty feet.”
“Really? Battery powered?” Gil craned his neck like he was trying to see it.
Thorn turned his head to oblige. “Smallest battery you’ll ever see.”
“Really?” Gil amped up the excitement in his voice. “Can you show me?”
By now, Bianca and Rocky had gathered around. Lavinia was staring from the table.
“I don’t know,” Thorn said. “It’s delicate.”
“Please,” said Gil. “I won’t touch it. I only want to see.” Slowly, carefully, Gil pulled his lucky penny from his pocket. Too fast and his sweaty hands would drop it. He only had one chance to get this right. He moved the penny from his right hand to his left and plunged that hand into his pocket, the coin pinched between his fingers.
“Yeah, please,” said Bianca.
Thorn sighed, dug the piece from his ear, and displayed it in the palm of his hand.
“How long have you been hearing impaired?” Gil asked.
“Most of my life.”
“Wow! How do you know what I’m saying right now?” Gil whispered.
“I read lips.”
Gil let the penny slip through the hole in his pocket and slide down his leg. It hit the wooden floor with a tiny clink.
Thorn’s eyes shot to the sound.
“Pennies don’t have lips.” Gil pointed to the earpiece. “If you stick it back in your ear, I’ll make sure the whole world knows. I refuse to be disqualified because they stuck me with cheaters.”
Thorn shrugged like he was bored and slipped the earpiece into his shirt pocket.
“And Rocky,” Gil said, “the cheating goes for you, too.”
“Whoa. I don’t have any ear thing.”
“I’m not blind, Rocky,” said Gil. Then he tugged his ear and touched his nose like Mr. Titus had. “Neither are the people who run this thing. Your choice: Stop the signals or go home.”
“Okay, okay.”
Lavinia took an audible breath as if she had been scared to inhale. She lowered her eyes to the table then peeked up at Gil. Thanks, she mouthed just before Bianca threw her arms around his neck.
“My hero!” She laughed. “Ooh. Idea here. Every team needs a leader. I elect Gil.”
Rocky shook his head. “That’d be a kill. Ask him about his family.”
“This isn’t about my family, and it isn’t about anyone being a leader. We just have to work together if we want to win.”
“I want to win,” said Bianca.
Gil looked at the others. “Are we gonna win or what?”
“Yeah, we’ll win,” said Rocky, putting on the game face Gil remembered.
The door swung open. “Sounds like you’re ready,” said Carol. “Let’s play some games.”
CHAPTER 11
The five filed behind Carol like first graders following their teacher to recess. If they were a real team, they’d bunch together like every winning team Gil had ever been on. Those teams, though, had practiced for months before their biggest game of the year. Together they learned who was strong and who to avoid in a crunch, who divided the team and who provided the glue.
Watch
ing Rocky swagger in front, Gil was oddly glad he was here. Rocky was the kid you wanted on your team, any team. Kids still talked about that spelling bee in Rocky’s fourth-grade class. Five remained on one team; just Rocky and one girl remained on the other, and Rocky’s spelling wasn’t that impressive. According to the legend, not only did Rocky question his poor teammate over every letter, but his stare rattled the other team so much, every one of them—including Moe, the Human Dictionary—misspelled the same word: intimidate.
Bianca could probably handle Rocky’s intensity, but Lavinia and Thorn? Lavinia may have been used to scholarship competitions, but Gil doubted she’d seen anyone like Rocky, especially when the fear of losing turned him into a wild man. And Thorn? Big question mark. He seemed so bored, but he must have had his reasons to be here. Why else would he have spent so much money to find an instant winner ticket and also to wire himself up?
Carol led them down another hallway with darkened offices, cordoned-off cubicles, but walls that practically vibrated with color. Where the murals stopped, framed pictures began: formal portraits of men and women, but with mustaches drawn on them, or with clown hats and squirting bowties, rabbit ears, caterpillar eyebrows, cat’s eyes.
The group turned down yet another hall that opened into a junglelike area with flowers and small trees and sunshine that filtered through skylights and floor-to-ceiling windows. They stopped beside a massive pair of green doors in an eight-story brick wall.
Carol turned to them. “Any minute—Correction. Right now, here they are. The other team, with my counterpart, Bill, there in the red shirt.”
Bill stopped his team at matching red doors about five yards away, then he and Carol nodded to each other and ruffled their own heads of hair in a silent challenge.