Scanner Kidz

by R M Scotford

  “Bye Douggie.”

  “Bye Douggie.”

  “Bye Douggie,” the nursery teachers chanted.

  “What are they, robots?” Douggie said to himself.

  With his head down, Douggie burst through the doors and scooted up the road as fast as he could. He made a sharp right onto Main Street. Suddenly, he slowed down.

  Across town, Kimiko Izumi rolled over in bed and rubbed her eyes, it was 8:15 am and her alarm clock was singing away. She reached over and tapped the snooze button, flopped back onto her daisy patterned pillow and drifted back to sleep. Her cat, Karman, rolled its head in her long, silky black hair until Kimiko could stand it no more, and finally, she got out of bed.

  She sat up: she had to be in school in less than twenty minutes, she would never make it. It was ridiculous to start school at 9:00 am. Teachers and parents were always going on about how children’s bodies were growing and needed lots of rest and sleep. If parents and teachers cared, really cared, they would make it so school started at about 11:30 am. This would allow for plenty of time to sleep and to get up nice and gently. She sighed and climbed out of bed.

  Yesterday it had been her birthday. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a party. Her parents were too busy to organise a birthday party for her. Plus, they didn’t like her to have too many friends, “It will only take your mind off your studies,” they kept reminding her.

  To make up for it, Kimiko was going through a stage of drawing sketches of people to be her friends and for a ten-year-old she was quite good. Her room was covered in drawings. She loved to draw; it gave her a special buzz every time she put pencil to paper.

  There was no time for drawing now; Kimiko had to get herself and her brother off to school. Her dad had left for work hours ago and her mum would be too busy doing yoga. She waved to all her fictitious friends and dashed downstairs yelling her younger brother’s name, “Koji.”

  As usual, Koji was already up and playing video games. By the time Kimiko and Koji left the house, it was already five to nine. They hurtled down the road, too late for the school bus. There was nothing to do but make a mad dash for school on foot. With a bit of luck, they could slip in unnoticed before everyone settled down for registration. The school was at the other end of town at the far side of Main Street. As Kimiko turned onto Main Street, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  Strange shooting sensations flew up from her toes to the top of her head. Enormous pressure was building inside her; the tips of her fingers burnt and her mouth began to froth.

  “Yew. What’s up with your mouth, Kimiko?” Koji cried in disgust.

  “It’s nothing,” Kimiko frothed, dribbling down her chin. By now the energy surges were increasing and she could barely speak.

  “Let’s go the other way, I… I don’t want to go this —”

  “What?” snorted Koji. “Are you mad? We’ll be late for sure.”

  “What’s so important about going this way anyway?” Kimiko demanded.

  “Erh, because it’s the way to school you dork brain!”

  Kimiko knew what was going to happen: something inside her was growing and she was powerless to stop it. She glanced up ahead at the crowd of shoppers. She could clearly make out a small boy, wearing a bright yellow T- shirt, who was about her age. The veins in Kimiko’s neck bulged and it felt like her head was growing to the size of her body.

  The children’s gazes were locked onto each other like hawks. As their eyes met she knew that telepathic combat was inevitable. The boy’s small, brown face twisted and contorted as the power of their concentration intensified. It felt as though the very street they were standing on was warping and shaking uncontrollably.

  Like turning up a massive rock ‘n’ roll stereo system the energy around the two children surged. To maintain their mental combat, electrical current leaped from every available power source. Huge swells of energy bounced from one child to the next, stunning innocent passers-by. As the flood of energy reached its climax, someone’s concentration would have to give. Kimiko clenched her fists tightly one last time. A torrent of mind-power rocketed up from her boots.

  The small boy fell to the floor, defeated. The sudden collapse of his concentration created a massive shift in the balance of energy filling the street. Kimiko’s tiny body began to suck in the excess power like a vacuum. She shuddered as wave after wave of energy poured in. As Kimiko breathed out, a shockwave like that of a fighter jet going past at the speed of sound devastated the street. The gigantic windows of the nearby T.V. shop shattered, showering everyone with glass. One after the other, each line of TVs exploded.

  BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

  It was pandemonium in the street; people were running for cover in every direction. In the confusion, Kimiko grabbed her younger brother by the arm and fled up the street towards the school. As she ran past the small boy in the yellow T-shirt, she stared at him hard. He looked dazed and confused, almost powerless. Kimiko had sucked all his strength out of him. Kimiko felt anything but powerless; she felt amazing. Koji could hardly keep up with his own feet as Kimiko sprinted up the street. The two children finally stopped in a small alleyway to catch their breath.

  “Oh man, you totally totaled all the tellies, Kimiko, just wait till Mom finds out. She’s gonna be mad. That’s gonna cost a fortune,” gasped Koji.

  “Mom’s not going to be mad because Mom’s not going find out; is she Koji,” Kimiko ordered. “Anyway, it wasn’t me.”

  “I know it was you,” Koji batted back. You’re the T.V. Terminator, a Flat Screen Freak.”

  “It wasn’t me, RIGHT?” Kimiko snapped.

  “Yeah right, it wasn’t you, how do you explain all that destruction? You are the DIGITAL DETONATOR, sister. No wonder you don’t like playing video games you would probably —”

  “Koji, drop it, we’re late for school.” Kimiko grabbed his arm and began to drag her brother out of the alley.

  “Late for school? You’re late for the circus, you freak. Get your hands off me before you blow me up too. Anyway, what was that thing with your head? That’s not normal.”

  Kimiko grabbed hold of her brother again,

  “DROP IT, ALRIGHT,” she shrieked.

  She dragged her reluctant brother up the street while Koji desperately tried to free himself from his sister’s solid grip. By now a crowd of shoppers had gathered outside the electrical shop. Debris was scattered all over the floor; shattered glass from the multitude of broken TVs and the huge bay windows was strewn everywhere.

  “Ok, ok, move along people, there’s nothing to see here. It was just a power surge in the electrical grid,” shouted the stunned owner of the destroyed T.V. store, not quite believing his own story.

  “Bob, can you clean up this mess?”

  Newly employed Bob the cleaner reached for his broom. He’d taken the job in the telly shop because he thought it would be less work than at the hospital. He scratched his head, “Gee, I sure hope this doesn’t happen everyday,” he mumbled, as he gazed out across the walkway, which was thick with shattered glass, T.V. parts, and stunned pedestrians.

  Douggie lifted himself up off the floor and carefully picked his way through the broken glass. He felt like he was going to be sick. His muscles ached and walking made him tired. It was the second time something like that had happened, only last time he came away feeling strong and full of energy. Douggie knew that he was different from other children. He also knew there were at least two other children out there just like him, and when their paths crossed they engaged in some kind of mental combat. But he did not understand how it worked. He felt like he was playing a video game without ever having read the instructions and he had no idea how to use the special moves.

  There were too many questions and not enough answers. Growing up was bad enough, growing up with unknown powers was totally confusing. He’d never seen that Japanese girl before, but he wouldn’t forget her quickly. She was bursting with energy like there was a huge monster inside her. Douggie
rubbed his sore head. He would have to avoid meeting other children like him if this was how it was going to turn out.

  Bill Who?

  A thousand miles away from the destroyed Main Street, a completely different kind of meeting was taking place. It was the Fortune Forum, and all the top heads of business were meeting to discuss how to make more money and maybe make the world a better place. As usual Nurse Hobbs was running late, and, as usual, it was everyone’s fault but her own.

  “How could you book me into such a terrible hotel, Grenwold? Where are my assistants, and my notes? And just look at my hair? She calls herself a hairdresser? URGH. Grenwold, Grenwold, GRENWOLD.”

  On hearing his wife screech, Grenwold Hobbs came running up like a puppy.

  “Yes, yes my dear, what is it?”

  “Never mind, Grenwold. Which way do I go?” she snapped.

  “I do believe it’s this way,” Grenwold suggested. “I don’t think they’ll be happy that you’re so late, my dear,” Grenwold said meekly.

  “Nonsense, Grenwold. People love me, you’ll see.”

  Grenwold scurried after his colossal wife. Her size made him look like a small child. The pair of them disappeared down the dark tunnel entrance to the main exhibition hall. Together they made the most unlikely couple to be attending a seminar for the world’s richest people.

  Inside the huge exhibition hall, a vast crowd of people was listening to the final part of Bill Gates’ speech.

  “Therefore,” Bill boomed into his microphone, “it is my intention —”

  The crowd was on the edges of their seats as Bill came to his climactic conclusion.

  “It’s my intention to give all of my hundred billion dollars of personal wealth to charitable organizations, so as to create a better tomorrow for all the children of the world.”

  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. At that moment, Nurse Hobbs stormed through the main exhibition doors and down the main aisle. All around her people were whooping, cheering and clapping in appreciation. She looked up into the stands; thousands of people were screaming happily and waving madly, some were even crying tears of joy.

  “What did I tell you, Grenwold? People love me,” Nurse Hobbs said smugly as she began waving back to the crowds.

  Nurse Hobbs arrived too late for her speech, which was probably for the best, as her assistants had still not turned up with her notes. The conference soon stopped for lunch, by which time old Hobbs was completely mad with hunger — she rarely went longer than half an hour without food. The world’s richest people were ushered into a banquet hall of great splendour where Nurse Hobbs began to load up her gold-plated bowl with mounds of food.

  Knowing that the Kiddy-Care Empire was one of the most powerful companies in the world, Bill Gates decided to approach Lady Hobbs and ask her if she was interested in participating in some form of charity work. Bill walked over to the enormous woman.

  “Erh, Madam Hobbs, may I?” Bill asked politely.

  “May you what?” snapped Nurse Hobbs. “Are you the caterer? The food’s terrible.”

  “Erh, erh, no actually I’m, I’m — Never mind. I was wondering if you were interested in any charity work? A friend of mine has a lovely charity giving under-privileged children reading books in the mountain kingdom of Nepal. I think your company would be —”

  “Would be what?” she barked.

  “Erh, erh, would be perfect to donate some reading books. You are, after all, a kiddy care company,” Gates said tentatively.

  Nurse Hobbs screamed over her shoulder, “Grenwold, do we doooooooooo Nepal?”

  “Well my dear,” sighed Grenwold. “Up till now I’ve yet to perfect a model that can cope with climbing hills at that altitude, so — nooooooo. I’m afraid not, my dearest.”

  Nurse Hobbs spat out the words into poor Bill’s face, “Well that’s a NO then. And you are?”

  “Erh, never mind,” said Bill. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, and walked away shaking his head.

  Nurse Hobbs shouted after Bill,

  “Well, if you see the caterer can you send him my way, I’m not at all happy with the spread.”

  She scooped up an enormous spoon of gooey ravioli and dumped it on her plate.

  “Grenwold,” she cried. ”I was just talking to the King of Nepal; he wants us to give him some reading books, what cheek. You’d think he’d be able to buy his own books. HUH. I thought this was a party for rich people?”

  Grenwold glanced over at Bill and sighed.

  “That’s Bill Gates, the richest man in the world, not the King of Nepal, you nincompoop,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What?” said the Nurse Hobbs, but her attention was already elsewhere.

  “Look, Grenwold, there’s Mr. Pew the property tycoon and his wife, Audrey. I must go and talk to them; they will invest. I know it. They’re an important piece of our world domination puzzle.”

  She waddled off as quickly as her fat legs could carry her, leaving Grenwold alone with his tiny bowl of chocolate trifle.

  Maggie’s Chase

  The football slammed up against the wall, its sound echoing around the small, empty park. As the ball bounced back, Douggie whipped up his leg and connected a wicked volley shot. The ball pounded off the wall once again.

  “He shoots — he scores!” Douggie shouted unenthusiastically.

  His mind was on other things; it had been two weeks now since he’d seen the Japanese girl in the street. It took him days to get over it. His body felt like an empty shell after the encounter. His mother took him to the doctor, who found nothing wrong with him. His father said he’d got a “Severe case of Lazy-itus,” and sent him back to school the very next day. School went from bad to worse, his concentration was squished, and his marks suffered. Usually, Douggie was top of the class, but now he was barely coping with turning up to school.

  What had happened that day? Why did he have these special powers, and why did she have them too? Was there some hidden purpose to his life that he was missing? Did the Japanese girl already know why she had such powers? He longed to be able to talk with her. This was not possible though: for one, he had no idea who she was or where she lived. Secondly, he was terrified, terrified, that if he saw her again, she’d do exactly the same thing; but this time finish him off for good. He slammed the ball up against the wall in frustration. Why did he have to be different? He couldn’t even enjoy his favourite game of football because he was so different.

  Douggie was naturally the best soccer player in his school, he was quick, strong and skillful but there was something else. Douggie flicked up the ball with his right foot, tapped it up onto his knee then thwacked it with another stunning volley. Only this time he put all of his concentration onto the ball. The space around it seemed to heat up and the ball, which was naturally curving left, took a sharp turn to the right and knocked an old weather-beaten traffic cone across the park.

  “Ha,” cried Douggie. “Bend it like Beckham, yeah right! Bend it like DOUGGIE, more like.”

  He sighed; it was a cool trick, that’s for sure. Douggie could make the ball do practically anything he wanted, but it wasn’t normal and that’s why he didn’t play football. Whenever he played with the other kids, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help doing freaky things with the ball. It was like his mind had a will of its own. He glanced across at the ball lying motionless in the corner of the park. He fixed his eyes on it, slowly and surely the ball began to move in his direction,

  “I SHOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO THIS!” he yelled.

  A girl interrupted his screaming; she was frantically running across the open fields that encircled the small concrete park in which he was playing. Instantly, Douggie recognised the girl. She was just like him. He remembered the day they’d met. He’d been out near the river with his parents when he’d bumped into this girl, they’d engaged in what he could only describe as a ‘brain battle,’ and he’d won. It wasn’t as intense as the time on Main Street, but
it was the same thing. He decided to follow her.

  Seconds later, another child came sprinting across the open grass. It looked like this kid was in hot pursuit of the girl. The boy was tall and thin with dark coffee-coloured skin. He wore a big, baggy, red T-shirt and a blue Beanie hat. His strides were long and gangly, and soon he would catch up with the girl. Douggie had to follow. The children headed for the old, derelict warehouse; it had been deserted for years. Douggie grabbed his ball and ran after the two children, taking care not to be seen.

  The girl had already reached the outer gates of the warehouse. Each gate was six feet wide and made of thick, rusty steel, but they flew apart as if they’d been hit by a tremendous wind. She disappeared into the gloom of the old building. The gangly boy was now only a few paces from the gates, running at full speed. As he got close to the entrance of the warehouse, a sudden flash of brilliant silver light hit him and he lost his footing. He gamboled through the doors in a mess of arms and legs.

  This was it; Douggie knew something big was going to go down; they weren’t fighting over dinner money. Not wanting to take any chances he dived behind an old oil drum. The air was as thick as butter and Douggie struggled to breathe. He peered over the top of the barrel.

  All at once every windowpane in the old factory blew out, showering everything — including Douggie — with glass rain. Along the roof of the warehouse were six triangular ventilation tops; each one was sent flying into the sky like six colossal champagne corks;

  POP, POP, POP, POP, POP............POP!

  The final top being shot so high into the sky that Douggie lost sight of it.

  “WOAH,” cried Douggie.

  These guys meant business; they’d practically destroyed the building. All that was left were the walls and the roof, and then —