Friend or Foe

by Jody Feldman

  “And how’d you feel?”

  “We were jumping and whooping it up so long and hard, I don’t remember starting or stopping that day. It felt good.”

  “So tell me this,” Bill said. “When the jumping and whooping stopped, and you had a chance to think about it, how did you feel?”

  “Smart. I felt smart.”

  “Because you are. You remember that.” He pointed to the scoreboard.

  Zane’s name had slipped below the red line.

  After

  THE FRIEND OR FOE CHALLENGE

  What did that Harvey Flummox have up his sleeve? Why had he scheduled “an urgent phone meeting” today? Didn’t he realize the Games were in full swing? Of course he did. Maybe he’d grown a conscience and wanted to come clean about the sabotage. No other reason would pull Bert Golliwop away from the Games right now. If only he could legally record the conversation without that lunkhead knowing. At least Bert could have surveillance equipment capture his side.

  The phone rang. Bert took a deep breath and waited for Flummox’s voice, which, undoubtedly, would be laced with haughtiness or, in evil villain terms, would carry a certain mwah-ha-ha quality.

  “Happy to talk to you, Bert,” Flummox said, like he truly was happy to talk to him.

  “Though this is unusual for us,” Bert said, already puzzled. Time to clear up one thing. “Thanks for the back scratcher, by the way. What possessed you to send it?”

  “I heard about your hives and the pen-and-duct-tape stand-in.”

  “Amazing how word spreads.” Bert’s heart pounded harder in anticipation of his next question. “Who told?”

  “One of our counterparts at United GameCo. Or was it McSwell? Or Rinky Brothers? We were trying to conjure up a plan to offset your Games. Anyway, one of them mentioned it. Danged if I remember who.”

  Someone at Golly, someone inside, was talking to a rival. Or was Flummox lying? Regardless, Bert had to play it cool and drop the subject for now. “What can I do for you?”

  “First, let me apologize for the awful timing of this call. I know you’re busy, but there’s something I’ve been pondering for a while, and I suddenly reached a decision.”

  A decision to try and sabotage the Games?

  “You see, my puzzle creators and I have come up with a humdinger, a real doozy. This baby has the potential to triple our sales from last year. And it could spawn ideas that will keep this puzzle chain going for years.”

  That wasn’t a confession. It was a boast.

  “However, we both know I don’t have the sales and distribution force of a Golly Toy and Game Company. And the truth is, this might be bigger than I can handle.”

  “And?”

  “And the other truth is, I’m getting old, and my kids, frankly, don’t want the business. The daughter has a small ski resort in Vermont; the other daughter is a nuclear physicist; and the son is a poet. They still provide puzzle inspiration, but they have no interest in owning a company. It’s time for me to stop working so hard, start playing with my grandchildren, and consider my future beyond the corporate walls.”

  “And?”

  “I know how your puzzle division has been underperforming.”

  Did he have to rub that in?

  “So I’m offering this: Might I tempt you to rename your division Golly Puzzles by Flummox?”

  “You mean sell me your company?”

  “I would insist on heading that division, at least for a while.”

  “So you can . . .” Bert let his voice trail off. If this offer was on the up-and-up, it’d be foolish to accuse Harvey Flummox of being Ratso.

  “You were saying, Bert?” said Flummox.

  “So you can transition into retirement?” Bert said, as if he’d meant that all along.

  “Exactly,” said Harvey. “I don’t need an answer today; it can wait until after your Games. I’ll be rooting for them to be huge, so you can make me a generous offer.”

  Bert felt as if the office were swirling around him in the best possible way. He could finally own the Flummox genius machine, and do it legally. He rubbed his hands and smiled. Except—

  His cheeks went cold. Could Flummox be setting him up for something? Could this be part of the ruination of the Games?

  It didn’t feel that way. If Flummox wasn’t the rat, though, which company was perpetrating the evil—McSwell, Rinky Brothers, or United GameCo? Or could it be that Ratso was working solo?

  All Bert could do was to wait. Maybe the rat would still make a fatal move.

  Chapter 25

  What Bill just did, have Zane replay that amazing game, might have been the best thing anyone had done for him in a long time.

  Zane didn’t wait for instructions. He glanced at the scoreboard, then corralled Josh, Ryder, and Leore into a huddle. “Here’s the deal. The other team already thinks they can run right over us, but we’re strong. We each have skills that, combined, can generate the power to make us the final four. Got it?”

  The others looked like they’d never heard a pep talk before. Zane stuck his hand in the middle, anyway, then Ryder put his on top, and Josh and Leore followed. He’d have to explain the next part. “On three, we all say ‘Team!’ and lift our hands. Ready? One, two, three, team!”

  It wasn’t bad for a first try, though with a little extra force, they could have flipped Leore backwards.

  Everyone else in the room was staring at them.

  “See?” Zane said to his people. “We have them stunned already.”

  Bill nodded at Zane. “Our friend Zane has already helped us separate you into two teams. The scoreboard, of course, tells the story.” Bill pointed to it.

  Zane didn’t want to look. He never wanted to look when he’d lost—but you couldn’t move fully forward if you were blind to what was behind you.

  Hanna 1236

  Elijah 1002

  Becky 917

  Berk 908

  ___________

  Zane 905

  Josh 742

  Ryder 696

  Leore 465

  Berk. If he hadn’t moved his bin, Zane would be above the line. But like his parents said, “Life isn’t fair.” Neither were penalties for pass interference when Zane had been the one interfered with, yet he always managed to move forward.

  The way Carol was looking at his team—with eyes nearly as sad as Zoe’s when their dog had died—one thing was for sure. It wouldn’t be easy. “The good news is this. If we’d stuck to our original plans, the four of you would be heading home. And yet, you’re still here.”

  “And the evil news?” said Josh.

  “Friend or Foe continues. To survive the team challenge, you will need to play in Foe mode, head-to-head with the other team.”

  “Yes!” Berk kept pumping his fist.

  “It’s not impossible, though,” Bill said. “If you watched the last Games, you’ll remember that the Orange Team—sorry about that, Carol . . .”

  “Yeah, like you’re really sorry, Bill.”

  “But the Orange Team squandered their lead, and the rest is history.”

  “As for the colors you’ll wear this year . . .” Carol reached inside a gear bag that was slung over an unoccupied chair and pulled out two T-shirts, one silver, one gold. “My team, playing in Friend mode, will choose . . .” She held the jerseys out to them.

  Berk snatched the gold one. “Is it even a question? Gold is more valuable.”

  The other three let him have his way.

  Zane smiled. Berk had put him in the bottom, but Berk was also Zane’s hope. Could Hanna control such a wild man? Possibly. Could Becky? More probable. But not Elijah. Berk would eat the kid for breakfast. And Zane couldn’t save Elijah unless he sacrificed his own self. Maybe that would be the Gold Team’s downfall. Chemistry. Without it, anything could happen.

  Zane slipped the jersey over his head. It was solid silver. Tough as steel. Hard-working. Like they’d need to be.

  “Gold, you’ll stay here,” sai
d Carol.

  “Team Silver, follow me.” Bill skirted one bank of lights.

  “Banished,” Leore said.

  Bill shook his head. “Nope. Promoted to a better space.” He led them around two light-beam corners to a large living room. Although it had funhouse mirrors and a variety of stuffed animals somehow floating in the air, this room was comparatively normal. Except the deep red couch where Zane sat might have been the most comfortable one in the world. “Are you trying to put me to sleep?”

  Zane moved to a throne next to a table with fruit and muffins and cheese and crackers. Hadn’t they just eaten breakfast? Maybe not. They’d gone through all those Friend or Foe challenges.

  “Is this lunch?”

  “Not even close,” Bill said. “A midmorning snack if you need one.”

  Zane eyed the muffins but grabbed a couple cubes of cheese instead. “I can’t tell you what to do,” he said to the other three, “but I’m gonna say this. Eat the muffins if you want, but sugar can make you crash. Stick to the cheese and a little fruit if you need to eat something.”

  “Like that’s really going to help,” said Leore.

  What a piece of work. “It can’t hurt.”

  “Means more muffins for me.” Bill took a big bite of one. He held up a finger, chewed, then swallowed. “So after this break we will send you into the famous warehouse area, where you might see anything: mountains, broccoli, snot noses, palm trees, bowling alleys—you name it. This year, though, you will share the space with the Gold Team.”

  “What if we need the same things at the same time?” asked Ryder.

  “I was getting to that, my man. Both teams will run similar challenges, but the puzzles will lead to different answers and different stunts. Do note: This is a shortened team challenge. You will only go through three puzzles and their ensuing stunts.”

  Zane’s stomach dropped. Just three? “Three opportunities for Team Gold to fall on their faces!”

  Leore looked almost happy. “And only three opportunities for us to fall on ours.”

  “Don’t even think that,” said Zane. “Not unless you want to lose. Do you?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “And with that,” said Bill, “I’m going to leave you four to stand on your heads or twiddle your thumbs or get better acquainted. But first, more rules.” He handed out a stapled set of papers to each of them. “Read and sign, please.”

  The info was basically what Zane had seen on TV. Each team would get a puzzle whose solution would be one of three Golly games or toys. Inside the corresponding box was a stunt card. If they opened the wrong box, they’d perform the wrong stunt and have to try and solve the puzzle again.

  Then there was a paragraph about making a real effort to solve each puzzle and the fifteen-minute penalty they’d receive if they didn’t. The next page was all about cheating. If you did, gone!

  Zane signed. Leore and Josh were still reading. Ryder was pantomiming his desire to fold the papers into airplanes and toss them at the other two.

  It didn’t feel funny, but Zane pretended to laugh. This wasn’t the time to tick anyone off. This was the time to develop a well-oiled machine.

  “You know,” he said after both Leore and Josh were looking up from the rules, “we’re still in this. It might not be easy, but if we work like a team, you never know what’ll happen.”

  “I hate to disagree,” said Leore. “Our only chance is if the other team stumbles.”

  “We can only control ourselves,” Zane said. “If we focus, we’ll always have a chance.”

  “He’s right,” said Ryder. “Let’s get in there and get it done.”

  “Seriously?” Josh said. “You guys are too intense. Why do you think they call them Games? If they wanted us to be serious, they’d call it Homework.” He laughed too hard at his own joke.

  This wasn’t going the way Zane had hoped. Only Ryder agreed with him. Then again, Ryder was the guy who hadn’t bothered to reason out the Gloop challenge. Time to try something else. “So Bill said we should get to know one another.”

  “Or twiddle our thumbs.” And Josh started twiddling his.

  “So we know you love to crack jokes, but you . . .” Zane looked at Leore. “What’s your favorite thing? Or your favorite class in school?”

  She almost smiled. This was good. “I like to write poetry.”

  “You’re good with words?” said Zane. “So lucky! I totally messed up the AlphaWheel. I mean, does anyone know what a zephyr is?”

  “You mean the breeze?” Leore said.

  “Man!” said Zane. “You probably slayed the AlphaWheel.”

  She actually smiled this time. “Though I did luck out with easy letters both times.”

  “It’s good to be lucky,” said Ryder. “Maybe you can rub some luck on us.” He held the back of his hand out to her, but she didn’t move. “Rub it.”

  Leore gave a shy laugh and rubbed the back of his hand.

  Zane stuck his out. So did Ryder. It was like the ice was broken. They needed to ride this momentum.

  “So can we count on you to lead us on word puzzles?” asked Zane. “They always have word puzzles, and I stink at those.”

  “Me, too,” said Josh. “Communication arts? Bzzz! Wrong again.”

  “You can’t be that bad,” Zane said. “None of us can. I say I am, but that’s compared to someone like Leore.”

  She blushed a little.

  “If we take advantage of each of our strengths, we’ll have a great chance. So Leore is our go-to person for word puzzles. You’re okay with that, right?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Josh, you’re funny. The funny people I know see things differently.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “On TV I spotted Estella’s tape bumps—you know, some of the starting places to solve puzzles—before those teams did.”

  “Great! So you’ll be on the lookout for things that are a little odd. Ideas that might get us pointed in the right direction.”

  “And Ryder?”

  “I’m gonna be the time cop.”

  “Quick! Give the deputy a badge!” Josh laughed. “But how’s that gonna help us?”

  “If we get off track, I’ll blow the whistle.”

  “Forget the badge,” Josh said. “Give him a whistle.”

  “Great,” said Zane. “Don’t let us get away with anything. Keep us focused.” He’d rather have known how Ryder could actually help them solve puzzles or do stunts, but his skills would reveal themselves. Jamaal had never intercepted a pass until that playoff game was on the line.

  “So what are you good at, Zane?” Ryder said.

  “Math. Also the physical stuff. Anything mechanical or that needs muscle.”

  “Just look at the guy,” said Josh. “I could’ve told you that.”

  Where was Ryder’s whistle? The last thing they needed were even minor put-downs.

  “Let’s hope you’re good at that,” Leore said, “because that’s where I particularly stink.”

  “You’re probably better than you think. Wasn’t there a time in math or science when you aced a test you didn’t feel comfortable about?”

  “That’s like every test,” Leore said.

  “Exactly my point,” Zane said. “We are four of the only eight people in this universe to be right here, right now. And it wasn’t luck. Even if you think that you stink at one thing, you’ve already proven you’re good enough at everything to advance this far. So believe you can do it.”

  Leore was about to roll her eyes.

  “You may not be able to do it alone, but together, we can lift our team over every hurdle.”

  Bill whipped into their room. “He’s one hundred percent right. If you remember the past Games, no contestant took the lead on every challenge. They contributed as they could, sometimes surprising themselves. You can do this. Oh, and please, please win for me.”

  “What’s the bet this year?” Josh asked.
>
  “Honeymoon location,” said Bill. “If Carol wins, we go to Paris and eat ze French food and view ze French museums. If I win, it’s the beaches in Maui. Sun, surf, sand, and plenty of relaxation. So help me, guys. I need a break. I need a beach chair. I need pineapple.”

  He collected the papers. “And that’s all I have to say except . . . it’s go time!”

  Chapter 26

  Team Silver traveled down a light-beam hallway until it dead-ended in a semicircle of more beams. A series of chimes reverberated around them, and the wall of lights evaporated to reveal an area with real trees and real birds. And the other team.

  Zane felt like the main character in the movie Back to the Future, who seemed to have been born into the wrong family. He belonged on that team, not this one.

  “It’s you!” Carol pointed at Team Silver.

  “It’s us,” said Bill. “Do not underestimate those with the Foes. Gold may be inherently more valuable, but the world has much more silver. There’s power in numbers.”

  “It appears your numbers are exactly the same as ours,” Carol said.

  “In bodies, yes, but in skills, we’ll see.”

  “We will.”

  Carol and Bill glared at each other. And though her eyes crinkled and his lips wavered as if they’d burst out laughing, they maintained the stare until they both looked up at the same time.

  Carol turned to her team; Bill, to his. “They’re ready for you,” he said. “Go in and make me proud. No. Forget about me. Make yourselves proud. And may Foe mode reign!”

  A silver-and-gold door slid open from a seam in its middle. It was enormous enough for the eight of them to walk through side by side.

  Zane expected a mass of odd objects, but instead came face-to-face with two billboard-sized arrows—one silver and one gold.

  Without words, the teams divided. Zane bolted to the left, footsteps right behind him. About ten feet away was a huge silver T-shirt suspended above a silver-lit table with a silver envelope. He grabbed it, ripped it open, and handed the card to Leore. This needed to be about the team, and she needed the most convincing.

  “Supposedly, our choices are under the table. And there’s this list of random words.”