Friend or Foe

by Jody Feldman

  Zane shrank back into his chair. Could he own who he was without football? Did he know who he was?

  “Ahem!” Elijah was standing next to him, holding out another bottle of water.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Zane sort of stared into space.

  “So what is it?” said Elijah.

  “What’s what?”

  “You’re suddenly like a withering plant that stopped producing chlorophyll.”

  Zane sat up straight, smiled. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.”

  Fine. He’d give him something. “It’s just, well. I’ll miss you, buddy.”

  “Me?”

  Zane nodded.

  “Then visit me in Chicago.”

  “You live in Chicago? We stay with our cousins there every year.”

  “Visit me, too. Come to school and see the little freak dwarfed by the big kids. Or wait and get a look at me in college. That’ll be funny.”

  “You in college.” Zane shook his head. “Medical school after?”

  “No. My parents are the doctors. I have my own path. People like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs—oh, and Charles Babbage—merely set the groundwork for me. There’s so much else to do, and I already have scholarship and grant offers, so if I win the million dollars, it’s seed money for my company.”

  “You’re eleven. You have a company?”

  “I will soon. I’ve been amassing and testing a myriad of ideas. First, though, school. My parents insist.” Elijah sat up a little straighter. “Hey! You’re good in math. When you go to college, get an engineering degree and come work for me.”

  “I’m still in middle school.”

  “Not forever. When you get old enough, I’ll give you a summer job.”

  Zane shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a football player. I’ve always dreamed I’d play for my Tigers, then get drafted by the NFL.” Zane let it drop.

  “But what?” said Elijah.

  “I didn’t say ‘but.’”

  “You implied it.”

  Maybe he had, but Zane didn’t mean to. He needed to gear up for one last challenge, one last play. He needed to feel like he was still in competition. The Games deserved his best.

  “C’mon, Zane. Tell me.” Elijah leaned over in his chair; practically fell out.

  Zane laughed, but not even Elijah would get him to spill his guts now. The only thing he wanted to spill was enough fire to win the next challenge and the Games.

  “So you’re clamming up on me, huh?”

  “Just gearing up for this last challenge. It’s what I do.”

  “If I had to guess, though, you’re not afraid of a little bet.”

  Zane looked into his eyes. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the betting type.”

  “Not money; things you can’t buy. If I win the last challenge, you’ll tell me what’s bugging you. Deal?”

  “What do I get if I win? It has to be big because with so much physicality so far, chances are they’re hitting us with something in your power alley. So what do I get?”

  “Name it.”

  “A lifetime of on-demand tutoring.”

  “You don’t need that. Besides, wouldn’t that be a little lopsided? A quick confession to hours of talking you through school?”

  “Timewise, yes.” If Zane both lost and had to spill his guts, it’d take more than a quick minute to heal. “But take it or leave it.”

  “Deal!”

  They shook on it.

  “Good,” said Elijah. “Now I know, for sure, you won’t give up if it’s in my power alley.”

  “I only have an On switch, buddy. I’m heading out there to win. Me with my brawn because we both know you’d win Battle of the Brains.”

  “It all comes down to what they have planned for us.”

  “And what we’ve planned,” said Carol, standing just inside the door, “was decided long before we knew who would be in these Games.”

  “When did you get here?” Elijah said.

  “You know us,” said Carol. “We’re like atmosphere. We’re always here.”

  “But never fear.” Bill came up behind her. “We will not follow you home.”

  “Nope,” she said. “We’re going to Paris.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bill’s voice might have been dripping with boredom, but his eyes shone. “So this is it. Silver versus gold. Friend versus friend.”

  “I don’t think we’ve had two people become such fast friends,” Carol said. “Clio and Estella hit it off last year. Gil and Bianca had a strange kind of immediate bond. And everyone stays in touch online, but this friendship is different. I don’t think anyone would have guessed.”

  “Especially me,” said Zane. “It probably wouldn’t have happened anywhere else.”

  “And now that we’ve finished with the ultimate bonding experience, you two need to fight it out to the death. Danny, bring in the swords.”

  Some guy barged into the room, waving swords like a samurai in early training.

  “I don’t seem to have this down yet,” Danny said. “But you two will figure it out. We hope. Paramedics are on standby.”

  Elijah gasped. “Have you lost your minds?”

  Danny, Carol, and Bill burst out laughing.

  “You should see your faces,” Carol said. “Too bad they won’t show that on TV. No cameras in here except for us monitoring you, and that stays private.”

  “Though I wish, in some cases, we could,” said Bill. “But no samurai swords, no cage fighting. There will, however, be amusements. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Ready.”

  “Let the last challenge of the third Gollywhopper Games begin!”

  Before

  THE LAST CHALLENGE

  The thought hit Bert like a giant flyswatter. Why was Extreme Machines the only sabotage-free challenge? It was like Ratso had pointed a big arrow its way, blinking, “Pick me, Pick me!” Bert needed to think. He left the executive viewing area and came down to his office.

  Danny popped his head in. “Need anything?”

  “I need to make a decision.”

  “I thought you already did.”

  “I thought so, too,” said Bert.

  “Maybe you need one more tour around the area.”

  “I do. I do.” Before the second “I do” Bert was out of his office, nearly running for the final challenge area. He rang the Bell Tower and set the gears in motion for Extreme Machines. He was about to pat the goat’s behind on Merry-Go-Wow when Walt Rusk, chief of Security, rushed up to him.

  “No one’s supposed to be—” Walt stopped himself. “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Golliwop. Is this young man okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’s with me, but no one else should be in here.”

  “Does your ‘no one else’ include Ms. Jenkins?” asked Walt.

  “Jenkins?”

  Walt pointed to his right. “About a minute ago, she rushed over to Extreme Machines, the one on the other side.”

  The three of them trotted over there.

  Jenkins was already moving toward the door.

  “You’re supposed to be upstairs,” Bert said.

  Jenkins nodded. “I know, and you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I was worried. One of my workers just told me she’d seen some strange guy around here yesterday. I decided someone needed to check things out, and you’d left the viewing area.”

  “Yesterday? Then no worries,” Bert said. “We checked everything earlier today. Let’s go back and finish these Games.”

  Bert led Jenkins and Danny back to the viewing area. He’d barely made it through the door before he cleared his throat. “We are scrapping the Extreme Machines challenge! More important, Plago, immediately instruct our factory to start quadruple production on Merry-Go-Wow!”

  “What?” said Plago.

  “Merry-Go-Wow!” said Bert.

  “It’s just cleared Legal,” said Morrison.

  “I k
now,” said Bert.

  “So that’s the way it’s going to end?” said Jenkins.

  “Absolutely,” said Bert.

  “But we’ve barely started the marketing plans for that,” said Tawkler.

  “Or the financials,” said Lorraine.

  “Then fast-forward it all.”

  “But, Bert,” said Plago. “We haven’t finished developing it yet.”

  A clattering came from the other side of the room. Old Man Golliwop grazed a food table with his wheelchair. “Yes, we have,” he said. “I have. I may be old, but I still have a brain or two left. And it feels good to get back into the game. Merry-Go-Wow. It’s all WOW!”

  “And one more thing,” said Bert. “We’re going into the puzzle business with that lunkhead Harvey Flummox.” He didn’t wait for a reaction.

  “But forget that now. We need to finish these Games right!”

  Chapter 35

  The room started moving forward, then suddenly stopped to let Danny out.

  Bill and Carol had each put a hand to one side of their headsets.

  “We are having a few technical difficulties,” Bill finally said. “So we’re in a holding pattern for several minutes.”

  “Hope you don’t mind,” Zane said. “I need to stay in game mode.” He’d turned his chair away from Bill and Carol and Elijah, put on a pair of headphones, and cranked up the music to drown out any negative thoughts. After five minutes, he started flexing his legs. After a few more, he jumped in place and wriggled his arms. And now, the football warm-up habit kicked in. He dropped to the floor for sit-ups and leg stretches and torso twists, and he felt a tap on his back.

  Carol motioned for him to take off his headphones. “Good news! Back in your chair, please. We’re ready to roll.”

  “Finally!” Elijah said, echoing Zane’s own thoughts.

  The room moved backwards, to the right, then stopped, letting them into a small rectangle of a space with two doors. The wall between the doors—about twice as high as the doors themselves—didn’t reach the ceiling, which rose many stories above.

  “Inside,” Carol said, “are two identical areas divided only by a wall that runs down the middle of the space. You will have the ability to see what the other is doing, so in the spirit of Friend or Foe, we offer you this.”

  “If you are stuck,” said Bill, “give a shout and ask permission to get a one-minute glance at your opponent. If the opponent allows that, you will incur a five-minute penalty. If the opponent says no but you look anyway, that’s ten minutes. With the talents we have here”—Bill looked at Elijah, then at Zane—“ten minutes could be deadly.”

  Carol stepped forward. “Ready or not, your challenge starts NOW!”

  No time to wish Elijah luck. Zane barged through his door and grabbed the card off the rope that hung all the way from the many-storied ceiling.

  An unsealed letter with debatable news

  was scattered at sea on a sightseeing cruise

  by a brat with a goatee and bowl-styled hair

  who first cowardly hid it—“No reason to share.”

  But a kayaking girl brought ten pieces she found

  and gave them to beasts on this merry-go-round.

  Go! Find them yourself, yell the message out loud.

  If you do this the fastest, you’ll be doggone proud.

  “Word stuff,” Zane said into the air. If he weren’t so competitive, he’d sit back and watch Elijah take this one. But he’d seen bigger upsets.

  Zane stuffed the card into his pocket, then raced around a wall of light columns, around a second bend, and into a smaller version of the warehouse area. There were still the hippos and solar system and mountain, but another wall of lights led him past a big dance floor with a zebra band playing that Mercy Neptune song, a brick tower, a restaurant, and a huge pond with swirling water and bodies bobbing in it. All along were security guards. Were they guarding the million dollars? Were they even real? Or were they lifelike mannequins?

  It didn’t matter because there! Ahead! Past huge gears and arching flames was the biggest merry-go-round ever. Zane shot forward. No way had Elijah made it here as fast.

  To call this merry-go-round big was an insult to the word “big.” Not only was it enormous, but it had three levels, and as it spun, and spun fast, Zane didn’t see one horse. Okay. There. One horse among at least a hundred animals—normal ones, and others he couldn’t name.

  And he had to find the right ten pieces of a message?

  Zane couldn’t beat the little guy with smarts, but he had speed and strategy on his side.

  There might’ve been a way to stop the merry-go-round and hop on, but Zane ran alongside it, took a leap, and grabbed onto one of the brass poles attached to a panda. Above it, too high for Zane to reach and way too high for Elijah, was a green ribbon threaded through some sort of translucent green tube. Inside the tube was a small scroll of paper—pieces of the letter from the poem, had to be. The ribbon, like every other one he could see from this vantage point, was tied in a big bow at the very top of this level’s ceiling.

  Zane jumped onto the panda. He gripped its pole. As it moved up and down, he wrapped both legs around it, shimmied up, and came eye to eye with the tube. The ribbon was threaded through and wrapped around a clamp that held the tube shut. He went a little higher. It wouldn’t take much to untie the ribbon to get it down. No way did Elijah have the arm strength to do that, not ten times.

  Even if Golly gave them another way, and they probably had, Elijah would need extra time to figure that out. Right now they were evenly matched. And Zane could race ahead if only he could unravel the clues in the poem.

  Zane sat on the panda and reread the puzzle. For some reason, he kept staring at brat with a goatee. To him, a brat was a kid, and if a goatee was what he thought—one of those pointy beards—that kid would look very, very strange. But Golly hadn’t randomly chosen those words. What did they mean?

  No clue. He needed to do something. Zane jogged around the first floor of animals, hoping that would jog something in his brain. Before he got back to the panda, he climbed the narrow brass staircase to check out the second floor. It was smaller in diameter; in fact, the merry-go-round was sort of like a three-layer cake, each floor smaller than the next.

  It was on the third floor, sitting on a rhino, that Zane caught a fleeting glimpse of Elijah’s merry-go-round, which revolved the opposite direction. Any one-minute glance would be worthless, so that play was out. He looked away fast.

  Focus, focus. Brat with a goatee? That had to mean something. And Zane couldn’t just sit here. He knew he shouldn’t, but he climbed the rhino’s pole, untied its purple ribbon, came down, freed the tube, and looked inside at the scrolled piece of paper.

  Wrong guess. One-minute penalty. Now he knew. He was sitting on a rhino with a one-minute penalty, and he was staring at a sheep and a moose and thinking about a kid with a goatee. A goatee. A goat-ee. A goat! He’d seen a goat on the first tier.

  He looked at the puzzle again.

  An unsealed letter with debatable news

  was scattered at sea on a sightseeing cruise

  by a brat with a goatee and bowl-styled hair

  who first cowardly hid it—“No reason to share.”

  But a kayaking girl brought ten pieces she found

  and gave them to beasts on this merry-go-round.

  Go! Find them yourself, yell the message out loud.

  If you do this the fastest, you’ll be doggone proud.

  The second word! Another animal. There had to be a seal somewhere. What else? “Brat” hid “rat.” That was three. Had he cracked it?

  Zane bolted down both spiral staircases and ran halfway around the first floor. There was the goat. He climbed the pole, worked to untie the ribbon, and—

  “Ow!”

  Something nailed him on the back. He dropped to the ground.

  In

  THE EXECUTIVE VIEWING AREA

  Bert blanched. �
�What just happened?”

  “Huh?” said Tawkler. “I was watching Elijah.”

  “Zane went down.” Jenkins pointed to Monitor #4.

  “I saw that,” said Bert. “But what happened?”

  “No clue,” Jenkins said.

  Morrison pulled out his phone. “Is he hurt? Do we need to stop?”

  “No,” Bert said. “The boy’s moving like nothing happened. Have Bill and Carol on alert, though. They may need to halt everything at a moment’s notice.”

  Chapter 36

  Zane felt a stinging near his shoulder blade and a little blood trickling down his back, but he’d been hit harder than that. What was Golly thinking? Could they have found a more dangerous way to give him tools for this challenge? At least the giant wrench that clattered to the floor had missed his head. He untied the ribbon, opened the tube, and read its paper scroll.

  (Goat)

  best

  He had cracked it! More animals! Zane left the wrench with the goat—it’d be there if he needed it—shoved the goat’s scroll into his pocket, and sat on the hippo. One word at a time. He’d already gotten “seal” from “unsealed.” Nothing in “letter.” “Debatable”? Why would news be debatable? Because there was a bat!

  Next long word. “Scattered.” Nothing. Or not nothing. He was going too fast. “Scat.” No. “Scatter.” Not an animal. “Catter”? “Cat”! Next longer word. “Sightseeing.” He went through the tedious process. Nothing there.

  But still, he’d found half the animals. He’d grab their tubes and free his mind for the last five.

  Zane dismounted the hippo and ran against the merry-go-round’s movement to see the animals head-on. There! Bat! He climbed the pole, but before he untied the ribbon, he checked to make sure there were no hammers or screwdrivers waiting to attack him. It was clean. He freed the paper from the tube, but didn’t read it. He’d wait until he had all ten. And there! Seal! Now just rat and cat. Rat and cat. He was at the hippo again. Staircase up. And there, one behind the other, the cat was chasing the rat.