Billy Sure Kid Entrepreneur and the Everything Locator

by Luke Sharpe

  Ultra-Cheesy Lasagna

  MY NAME IS BILLY SURE. I’m thirteen years old. I’m also a seventh grader at Fillmore Middle School and—oh yeah, I just got home from a busy day at the office.

  At the office? you might ask. Along with my best friend, Manny Reyes, who runs the business stuff while I invent, we run the invention company SURE THINGS, INC. Sure Things, Inc. has come out with all kinds of cool inventions you’ve probably heard of, including the ALL BALL, the SIBLING SILENCER, and our latest creation, the MAGICAL MICROPHONE.

  “Well, you’re home early for a change,” Mom says as I walk into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of in-between time for Manny and me,” I explain. “We’re still testing out the Magical Microphone, and the REALLY GREAT HOVERCRAFT TOY and the INVISIBILITY KIT are just hitting stores now, so the pressure is off for the moment to invent something new.”

  “Great!” says Mom. “Then you can help me set the table for dinner.”

  As I help Mom put out plates, silverware, napkins, and cups, I think about how great it has been having her home for so long. My mom spends a lot of time away for work. You know how my job as an inventor is cool? My mom has a cool job too—she’s a spy! She protects the whole country. Although she’s home now, she can be called into a spy mission at any time. So I’m thankful just to have her here.

  My dad is an artist. He paints all kinds of, um, “unique” things. Like my dog Philo’s nostrils, whiskers, and butt. He recently put up all his work in an art gallery and it was a big success.

  Oh no—that’s when I remember. Dad’s art gallery. Not too long ago I overheard a conversation between my mom and dad, though I don’t think they know I heard them. An art lover offered Dad a job to paint for her—all the way in Italy!

  I know, I know. I should be really happy for him. But if Dad is away, and Mom suddenly gets called off to save the world, who will take care of my sister, Emily, and me?

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Billy,” Mom says.

  “Yeah,” I say, placing a fork on the table. What can I say? I can’t let on that I overheard Mom and Dad’s conversation.

  Mom is unfazed.

  “Well, I know something that will perk you right up—tonight’s dinner,” she says. “We’re having the Sure family secret ultra-cheesy lasagna recipe!”

  “THE SURE FAMILY SECRET ULTRA-CHEESY LASAGNA RECIPE?” I ask.

  I think after living in this house for thirteen years I would know if there was a Sure family secret ultra-cheesy lasagna recipe!!!

  “Oh, well, you may know it by a different name,” Mom says. I can see a sly grin spreading across her face. “Takeout.”

  Okay, now that I know. Normally I would get a kick out of Mom’s little joke. I’d also be super psyched about eating takeout, especially Italian food takeout. But the fact it’s, well, Italian, makes me nervous. Is tonight the night we find out Dad is moving to Italy?

  A few minutes later Dad and Emily join Mom and me at the table.

  I immediately notice that Emily is not wearing a hat.

  If this sounds strange to you, let me explain. My sister always has a “thing”—something she gets into, like wearing giant hats or talking in a British accent—that is absolutely the 100 percent most important thing in the whole wide world to her at the time. Emily’s things come from nowhere. And then they fade into nowhere fast.

  So seeing Emily hatless? That means her next thing will reveal itself soon.

  I can hardly wait.

  The meal proceeds quietly, and my thoughts turn to an upcoming meeting of the Fillmore Middle School Inventors Club. I started the club and kind of stepped back when things got extra busy at Sure Things, Inc. But I really like the way club has become a place for kids to hang out and test their inventing skills at my school.

  I’m thinking about going to the next meeting when Dad speaks up.

  “I have an announcement to make,” he says.

  I stop chewing.

  Oh no. This is it.

  “As Emily learned by writing thank-you notes to everyone who came to the art exhibit, my show was a success,” Dad says. “In fact, it was so successful that an art dealer in Italy named Tali DeCiso contacted me and asked me to do a series of paintings for her!”

  I put my fork down, feeling sick, just as Emily squeals.

  “That is so fantastic, Dad!” says Emily. “It’s amazing! And to think, that happened because of the thank-you note I wrote.”

  “Um, I think your father’s paintings had a little something to do with it as well, Emily,” Mom points out.

  “It’s really a once in a lifetime opportunity,” says Dad.

  This is it. Here it comes. Dad’s big announcement that he’s moving to Italy.

  “Your mom and I have talked it over, and we’ve come to the conclusion . . .”

  Dad pauses. I brace myself for the worst.

  “The ENTIRE SURE FAMILY is moving to Italy!”

  The Big Announcement

  OKAY, THIS I WAS NOT ready for. My jaw drops. In fact, if it dropped any farther, I’d be in danger of hitting the dust bunnies on the floor under the dining room table.

  The entire Sure family is moving to Italy? I’m moving to Italy?

  Still unable to speak, I look over at Emily. She can’t be happy about this. She’s never happy about change. But . . . as I look over, I wonder, is my sister smiling?

  In addition to smiling, she’s counting on her fingers, like she’s trying to solve a math problem in her head. Then I watch her type Gemma Weston’s name into her phone. Gemma is a British celebrity. Oh yeah, she’s also one of Emily’s good friends.

  “So Italy is, what? Like a two-hour flight from England?” she asks.

  Mom and Dad nod.

  “So that means that we’d be much closer to Gemma once she flies back home to England,” Emily says triumphantly. “And we’d also be close to all her celebrity friends. This is fantastic! Great idea, Dad!”

  “I’m thinking about all the fresh super-yummy lasagna we’ll get to eat,” Mom adds enthusiastically, shoveling a garlic roll into her mouth.

  What is going on here?! How is everyone okay with this?

  I finally find my voice. “But . . . what about SCHOOL?” I ask. It’s the first thing I can think of.

  “We thought about that,” says Dad. “We’ll arrange for Italian and English language tutors for both of you. It’s pretty common for American families living abroad.”

  “THE INVENTORS CLUB?” I ask in a small voice, realizing that maybe this isn’t the most compelling argument.

  “Isn’t Clayton Harris doing a great job running the club?” Mom says.

  “Well, yeah, he is, but I mean, I still go to meetings and I like to feel like part of it, and . . .” My sentence trails off as I realize what is really troubling me about this move. It isn’t school or the inventor’s club. It’s . . .

  “SURE THINGS, INC.?” I ask. “MANNY?”

  There, I said it. I can go to school anywhere, and Clayton can run the club without me. But how can there be a Sure Things, Inc. without Billy Sure? How can Manny and I be a team without, well, our team?

  To my surprise, Emily speaks up.

  “Dad just got a really big break,” she says to me. “Potentially the biggest break of his art career, and all you can think about is yourself?”

  “Well, I—”

  But she’s not done.

  “You should be happy for him,” Emily says to me. “Not whining about what you’ll miss.”

  I suddenly feel a little embarrassed. I know I should feel happy for Dad, but . . .

&n
bsp; Mom walks over to my chair and gives me a hug. Sometimes it’s like she can read my mind.

  “We all know how important Manny and Sure Things, Inc. are to you, Billy,” she says. “They’re important to us, too. We’ll make sure that you have the best webcams available to stay in touch with Manny every day. After all, you and Abby made the Sibling Silencer together over a webcam and did a fantastic job.”

  Well, that’s true. But I didn’t know Abby. Working with Manny is a whole other thing. He’s not just my business partner. He’s my best friend!

  But what can I do? I don’t want to be the one who causes a family problem. I don’t want to be the selfish one. I have no choice. I guess I’m moving to Italy.

  “Okay,” I say finally. Even I can hear the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.

  “Great!” says Dad, caught up in his own excitement. “We’re leaving in two weeks!”

  Wait. What? Two weeks. TWO WEEKS?!

  How am I going to get ready? How am I going to set things up for while I’m gone? How am I going to pack?

  How am I going to tell Manny?!

  After dinner I head to my room. I try hard to get some homework done, but I can’t concentrate. I usually get this way when I’m struggling to finish an invention. But I have no idea how to deal with this.

  Finally, unable to really get anything done, I put my homework aside. As I walk toward my bed I spot a framed photo on my shelf. It’s a shot of Manny and me with my baseball hero, Carl Bourette, on the Better Than Sleeping! TV show shortly after the All Ball came out.

  I pick up the photo and stare at it for a few minutes. Just looking at the picture makes me feel sad. What will happen to Sure Things, Inc. while I’m in Italy? Will we ever have another successful invention? Is Sure Things, Inc. DOOMED?

  I fall asleep that night and slip into a crazy dream. I’m standing on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, except it’s made entirely of spaghetti. Oh, and it’s raining parmesan cheese and it’s also snowing chunks of gelato. . . .

  “Manny! Manny! Can you hear me back in America?” I yell.

  Tourists start to gather below, looking up and wondering why I’m shouting. A man takes a picture of me.

  “Manny, I have a great idea for an invention!” I yell, louder now. I wave my arms up and down, frantically trying to contact Manny.

  And then, just as I raise my arms again, I slip and fall off the tower!!

  I plunge toward the ground below as horrified onlookers scream and point up at me.

  “AAAAAAAAH!!!!!”

  Just before I hit the ground, I wake up.

  And then I remember that today is the day I have to tell Manny about the move.

  In school I try my best to focus on my classes. They actually do help a bit to distract me. Although talking about Roman myths in English class doesn’t really help!

  I see Manny at lunch. I could tell him now about the move, but it might be best to wait until school is over and we’re at the office. We don’t say much to each other at lunch, which I think suits Manny just fine. He’s busy looking up sales figures for our inventions anyway.

  On my way to my last class I hear a familiar voice call out to me.

  “Billy!”

  It’s Clayton Harris, the president of the inventors club.

  “Hi, Clayton, what’s up?” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.

  “I want to show you the improvements I’ve made on my latest invention,” he says. “Do you have some time after school today?”

  “I’m sorry, Clayton,” I say. “I really have to get to the office right away after school. I have to tell . . . I have some important things to discuss with Manny. Can we do it another time?”

  “Of course, Billy,” Clayton says, smiling. “Sure Things, Inc. comes first! See you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, then I head to my last class.

  Sure Things, Inc. comes first!

  After school it’s go time. I can’t put it off any longer. I need to talk to Manny. I stop at home, grab a snack, pick up Philo, and bike to the World Headquarters of Sure Things, Inc., which just so happens to be located in Manny’s garage. This trip, which I’ve made hundreds of times, feels EXTRA SPECIAL today.

  I walk through the office door and find Manny scanning a spreadsheet of marketing plans, like he does every day.

  It hits me. How many more times am I going to bike over here and find him like that?

  Images of me and Manny working together in this office race through my mind. I think of all the great things we could invent—and all the fun we’ll miss out on together. What if that never happens again?

  Just as I’m crafting a delicate, intricate way to break the news to Manny, he turns to me.

  “What’s up, partner?” he asks in his cheery Manny way.

  “Manny,” I say. I can’t help it. I’m going to blurt it all out! “I’m moving to Italy in THIRTEEN DAYS!”

  Decisions and Solutions

  “ITALY, HUH?” MANNY SAYS, AS casually as if I had just suggested that we eat burritos for lunch, or perhaps that we switch to more energy-efficient lightbulbs in the office. “Sounds like there’s a story here.”

  I almost laugh. Manny is so calm, it nearly puts me at ease—reason #368 why I’m glad he’s my best friend and business partner. That’s going to make me miss him even more.

  I quickly fill Manny in on Tali DeCiso and the rest of the details.

  “What does Emily think about all of this?” Manny asks, the corner of his mouth curling into a small, sly smile.

  “Are you kidding? She loves it! Italy is only a two-hour flight from England, where Gemma lives. She’s all excited about meeting Gemma’s celebrity pals.”

  “Hmm,” Manny says, scratching the side of his head.

  Manny swivels his chair back around to face his computer screen and quickly pulls up Tali DeCiso’s website. It’s a real website all right—filled with tons of reblogged images of paintings, each one as kooky as Dad’s. In fact, Dad’s painting of Philo’s butt is featured prominently on the homepage.

  “She’s quite the art collector,” Manny says.

  The homepage has paintings of doorknobs, windshield wipers, donut crumbs, and some really gross-looking goopy food. I guess I know now why Tali DeCiso likes Dad’s work so much.

  “Here’s a close-up of someone’s nostril,” Manny says, hovering over another image.

  “I was wondering what that was,” I admit. “You know, Manny, it kinda looks likes your nostril.”

  We both crack up.

  “I guess we have to talk about what happens to Sure Things, Inc. while I’m in Italy,” I say, finally bringing up the necessary but unpleasant topic. “My mom told me that I’ll have a state-of-the-art webcam so we can talk every day over video chat.”

  “That makes sense,” Manny says, nodding.

  “But Sure Things, Inc. just won’t feel the same,” I say. “I can’t imagine not working beside you, here in person.”

  “It’s obviously not ideal, but we can make it work,” Manny assures me. “We could brainstorm, have meetings, talk about what we are each working on. . . .”

  “I know that lots of companies have offices all over the world and have web meetings every day,” I say. “I just worry that inventing for Sure Things, Inc. will become more like any other job than the fun adventure it’s been so far.”

  For a second there it seems as if Manny isn’t listening to what I’m saying. But I know him better than that. He’s heard me and is already concocting some elaborate plan to make everything all better.

  Okay, not all better, but at least a way to find something positive.

  “I HAVE AN IDEA,” Manny says.

  See?

  “Why don’t we work on a last hurrah project as a team, here in the office?” he asks. “You know, musicians do it. When they release their last album or go on their final tour together, they make a big deal about it being their LAST HURRAH. It really gets everyone excited. Everyone wants to buy t
he last album or see them in that final concert.”

  “Okay . . . ,” I say, feeling a little dense that I’m not exactly sure where this is going.

  “We can do the same thing with an invention!” Manny says, finally getting to the point. “One last, real Sure Things, Inc. invention. And it won’t be that sad. It’s not like we won’t be working together at all. It’ll just be the last time we work the way we always have. What do you think?”

  I think for a moment. It could be really fun to crank out a new invention with Manny. It might even help to take my mind off what’s about to happen, and it could make my final two weeks here fun and memorable.

  “I like it!” I say, trying to muster the biggest smile I can.

  “Great!” Manny says. “Now we just need a fabulous idea.”

  “Right. Which at the moment, we don’t have.”

  We both laugh. I’m happy that Manny has managed to brighten up even this sad situation.

  “Time to brainstorm!” Manny says, rubbing his hands together. “RAPID-FIRE STYLE. Whatcha got?”

  “Well, how about . . . let’s see . . . oh, I know. A LUNCHBOX IDENTIFIER,” I suggest. I don’t know where that one came from. It just popped into my head.

  “Okay,” Manny says, sounding cautious. “And what’s it do?”

  “It would scan everyone’s lunchbox in the school before lunchtime and tell you exactly what each person brought for lunch that day,” I explain. “That way you would know who to sit next to. It could be popular for kids who don’t like the smell of egg salad or are allergic to specific ingredients.”

  “Hmm,” says Manny.

  I know that particular “hmm.” That’s Manny’s “I want to be polite and not hurt Billy’s feelings but I really don’t think this is a very good idea” hmm.

  “I don’t see a really huge demand for that one, Billy,” he says. “Kids will want to sit with their friends anyway, not with who brought whatever for lunch.”

  “Right, right,” I say. “Good point. Okay, how about PIZZA IN A CAN? All you have to do for a fresh slice of pizza is open up a can!”