Arcade and the Dazzling Truth Detector

by Rashad Jennings

  “You’ve being awfully cooperative.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, maybe I don’t want to be the stubborn-est anymore.” She frowned. “I wonder if Michael will ever talk to me again.”

  I flicked her ear. “He will. You annoy people, but you do it in a way that makes them miss you when it’s not happening.”

  Zoe pulled a piece of tape off the dispenser and stuck it on my nose. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Arcade.”

  I gave her a goofy smile. “Nice-EST. That’s me.”

  “Those were some of the best quesadillas I’ve ever had,” Doug announced, using his last tortilla triangle to wipe up the salsa on his plate. “Not sure I can sleep now.” He took our plates and rinsed them off in the sink. “You guys want to watch some TV?”

  Zoe pushed herself away from the table. “No. It’s going to be light soon, and I need to get some sleep. I’ll see you all later. Don’t bug me. Unless Triple T wakes up, of course.”

  “Sure thing,” I said. “You’re annoying, but we do have a deal.”

  “Yes, we do.” She picked up the taped note from Kenwood Badger. “And I’ll just keep this. Don’t want you doing anything stupid—”

  “Zoe!” I reached for it, but she took off quick. She ran up the stairs and closed her door. Doug shook his head and laughed. “Zoe’s the best! Zoe’s the best!”

  “Thanks for the support, Milo.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Nor’easter

  Manhattanites should plan to hunker down as the first nor’easter of the year heads our way. Prepare for snow—lots of it! And that means slow traffic. Authorities recommend staying home if possible, but if you do need to go somewhere in the city—get out those heavy coats and snow boots. Walking will be the fastest way to get anywhere today.

  “Sounds like that’s my cue to get in bed and stay there.” Doug pulled himself up from the couch, grabbed the remote, and turned off the news. “You comin’?”

  “Sure. Guess I have all day tomorrow to figure out how to get that paper out of Zoe’s room.” I followed Doug up the stairs. After being at the top of Mt. Everest and at the bottom of a garbage dumpster, my soft bed was going to feel good.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Arcade? Honey? Are you still sleeping? There’s a package for you.”

  Mom’s voice from the hallway jolted me out of my deep sleep. “Mom?” I rubbed my eyes. “Come on in.”

  Mom cracked the door and peeked in. “Hey, sleepyhead. It’s one o’clock. A delivery person just brought a package for you.”

  “One o’clock? In the afternoon?”

  Mom turned on the light. “Yes. You picked a good day to sleep in. The snow’s really piling up. Which is why I’m surprised this showed up.”

  She held out the package. It was from Castro Optometry!

  “I can’t believe it!” I ripped into the package and, sure enough, it was my new glasses.

  Mom smiled. “What kind of coincidence is that? The girl who broke your glasses has a dad who’s an optometrist?” She shook her head and picked up my old glasses, examining the cracks and scratches. “You’ve got some kind of charmed life going on, my son.”

  I scooted out of my blankets and stood up. I closed my eyes tight, then opened them wide a few times.

  Mom laughed. “What are you doing? Eye exercises?”

  “Just making sure the sleep is out of them, so when I pop these babies on, I’ll appreciate the new clarity. I expect great things from these! Hey, now I can READ ALL DAY!”

  Mom shook her head. “Don’t you always do that?”

  I shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

  Mom watched as I raised the glasses to my face. I closed my eyes, slid on the earpieces . . . adjusted them on my nose . . .

  “Enough with the suspense, Arcade. You can open your eyes now.”

  I opened. And Mom was gone!

  I turned in every direction. “MOM! I can’t see you! These glasses are terrible!”

  She chuckled and popped her head in from the hallway. “GOTCHA! Now get down here and eat breakfast and lunch before it’s dinner time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  But first, I flew to my bookshelves to conduct the ultimate test. I ran my fingers over the spines to find the best title. I stopped, shocked, when I came upon a title that wasn’t mine.

  “The Care and Feeding of Today’s Cockatoo? I had no idea this was here.” I checked the book next to it. Of course, it was French Decorating.

  Zoe!

  “I don’t want to read either one of these!”

  I stacked the two books on my desk and ran down to the living room, where everyone was chilling, watching TV.

  Dad looked up from reading his newspaper. “Hey, Arcade! Nice to see you got a good day’s sleep. Would you like to go shovel off the stairs?”

  I pulled open the front door, and a wall of snow fell in.

  “Arcade!” Zoe palmed her forehead.

  “Why didn’t anyone warn me? I guess I better shovel the inside now.” I went to the kitchen and found our biggest spatula and bowl. “Anyone want snow cones?” I spooned the icy mess into the bowl.

  Doug came over to help with his hands. He looked up at my glasses. “Hey, new specs!” Then he leaned over to whisper, “Did you test them on the Greece book?”

  “Oh. Unfortunately, I left those books in . . .” I lowered my voice, “Iceland.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “And it looks like I’m not getting to the library today. But, hey, we got the Internet. Maybe I can even search African universities and find Aahir.”

  Doug frowned. “It’s been out all morning. Nor’easter strikes again.”

  We took our bowl of ice to the kitchen and dumped it in the sink.

  “So, you’re telling me that I’m stuck here all day and I can’t find out anything about anything except French decorating and how to care for cockatoos?”

  “Well, you know what Aahir said, ‘Sometimes life is a mystery, Arcade. A huge, exciting mystery!’”

  “Haha. Well, I do have something I can focus on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Getting Kenwood Badger’s note out of Zoe’s room.”

  I popped my head out from the kitchen and spotted Zoe lounging on the couch, staring out the window at the stormy weather. “Hey, Doug, will you keep Zoe distracted for a few minutes?”

  “You’re going to break the ‘DON’T YOU EVER EVEN THINK OF GOING IN MY ROOM WITHOUT ASKING’ rule?”

  “Hey, she took my property without asking. Plus, I’m not going to go into her private business, I’m just going to scan the tops of her furniture. If it’s just sitting there, I’ll snatch it.”

  “Okay, will you give me a sign when the coast is clear?” Doug wrung his hands and peeked around the corner at Zoe.

  “Sure. I’ll, uh . . . I’ll come downstairs.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep the Zoe-girl engaged. Just make it quick.”

  “Will do.” I held out my fist, and Doug bumped it.

  “Be careful. If she catches you, you’re dead.”

  I strolled out to the living room. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

  Zoe glanced over. “It’s about time, slacker.”

  Bawk! Zoe’s always right! Zoe’s always right!

  “I’m also going to go read about the life expectancy of cockatoos. Your overdue library books are on my bookshelf!”

  “Oh, is that where they are? See, I told you it wasn’t my fault. You probably took them so you could read them—”

  “Why would I want to read a book about your annoying bird?”

  Zoe rolled her eyes and lay back on the couch. “Just go get dressed.”

  I ran up the stairs and crept slowly down the hallway. I stopped at Zoe’s door and listened for the sound of any person who might be climbing the stairs behind me. Nothing. Instead I heard Doug.

  “Hey, Zoe, can you explain to me how you fixed the fondant mistake I made on Arcade’s cake? If I’
m going to open a bakery, I need to know how that stuff works.”

  “Sure, Doug . . .”

  I wiped the sweat from my palms on my pajama pants. I reached for the knob . . .

  Woof!

  “Loop!” I pushed him away. “This is not a good time.”

  I turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open . . . just a crack. I scanned the floor. Nothing. Scanned the bed. Nothing. Scanned the desk. Nothing.

  Then . . . I spotted it! It was on her nightstand. I could see a corner of it sticking out from under a tissue box.

  Good thing I got these new glasses.

  I took a deep breath and went in. Took three huge steps, grabbed the card, and took two larger steps out. Five steps hardly count for GOING IN MY ROOM WITHOUT ASKING.

  I closed the door behind me and slumped to the floor. “We made it Loop. Loop?” I heard scratching from the other side of the Zoe’s door.

  Oh, no!

  I opened her door again, grabbed Loopy, and dragged him out. I carried him and the notecard into my room and closed the door. “Loopy, you almost got me into real trouble just now.”

  I put him down on the bed, sat down next to him, and read the card.

  Below the note was the phone number. I grabbed my phone out of my backpack and added Kenwood Badger to my contacts.

  Now if I return this to Zoe’s room, she won’t suspect anything.

  “Loopy, stay right here.” I jumped up off my bed, tiptoed down the hallway, listened for a minute . . .

  “So, let me get this straight. You DON’T use a rolling pin?”

  “Yes, you do! Doug, are you even listening?”

  Good, they’re still talking.

  I turned the knob, leapt in, this time making it to her nightstand in two and a half steps. I positioned the card exactly how I had found it. Then I took two leaps back, got out the door, and slumped to the floor.

  “What are you doing down there?”

  It was mom. She had some books in her hands.

  “Oh, hey, Mom. I was playing with Loopy and he . . . got away.”

  Mom looked inside my room. “He’s here on your bed. On your pillow, to be exact.”

  I jumped up and ran in my room. “Seriously, Loopy? Get your own pillow.” I shooed him off and then walked over to my bookshelves, where Mom was adding some titles.

  “I was going through some boxes in my bedroom and found a few of my favorite travel books. I thought you could put them with your new Greece books.” She moved a few things around. “Where are those books?”

  “Oh, they’re still in the box. I’ll get to them soon.”

  The next time I travel to Iceland.

  “Okay, well, I’ll leave some room up here on the shelf for them.” She put the books in between my new bookends. “I also found my old travel journal. You might want to check it out someday when you’re bored.” She slid a tattered, spiralbound notebook in with the books. “There you go. Happy travels!” She disappeared into the hallway.

  Happy travels.

  Most of the trips through the elevator doors had been happy. Some had been confusing. And a couple . . . downright scary! Like that trip to San Francisco in 1935, when the Badger brothers hitched a ride, tried to take the token from me, and went plunging over the edge of the unfinished Golden Gate Bridge.

  I shivered.

  Don’t want to do that ever again.

  But there was one thing I did need to do. I needed to call Kenwood Badger.

  CHAPTER 24

  Why’d You Do It?

  My fingers shook as I entered the password to unlock my phone. I pulled up Kenwood Badger’s number and held my index finger over the send button.

  What am I gonna say? It could be a setup.

  Milo’s bird words echoed in my brain.

  Zoe’s always right! Zoe’s always right!

  “She is not. But either way, this has to end.”

  I pushed send before I had a chance to chicken out. The phone rang on the other end . . . once, twice, three times. I almost pressed END, but then . . .

  “Hello?”

  Gulp.

  “Hello?” I barely squeaked out.

  “Hey, is this you, kid? Arcade Livingston?”

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me.”

  “So you got my note?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, it’s just that—”

  “You don’t trust me? Hey, I don’t expect you to. I knew it was a long shot, but I wanted a chance to thank you.”

  “Thank me?”

  There was silence on the other end, and then a long sigh.

  “Yes. I want to thank you for fixing up the windmill course. I know you were the brains behind it. And I just want to know one thing.”

  My fingers stopped trembling.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  I had to dig deep to answer that. I thought back to my trip to India, where my friends and I were blessed by the generosity and hospitality of people we didn’t even know. And then there was that clue I found in the journey box: Where generosity goes, refreshment flows.

  “It was the right thing to do. Forest Games and Golf brings happiness to lots of people.”

  “The windmill fell down the day my wife died. Did you know that?”

  “No. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was the worst day of my life.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  “After that, Lenwood and I argued all the time. It was all my fault. I couldn’t get my head back in the business, and all he wanted to do was expand. He kept talking about how that token was going to make us rich . . .”

  “Rich? I don’t think that’s what the token’s for—”

  “And all I could think of was what good would more money be when I’d just lost the most valuable thing in my life?”

  “I . . . I’m so sorry.”

  “Then one day, after we had another huge blowout, I took the token, stuffed it in a gold prize container, and hid it in the claw machine! I just wanted to get rid of it and figured NO ONE would find it in there! Have you ever seen anyone pull something that small from a claw machine?”

  Never. Well, until my dad did it.

  “And then along came your parents, and they have some kind of special love chemistry, and your dad pulls it out. First try! And as soon as that happens, the place goes wild, lights are flashing—”

  “Wow.”

  “And everything went downhill. Equipment started breaking, and our bank account dwindled, so we couldn’t fix things. Customers stopped coming. And since it all happened after we lost the token, Lenwood was convinced that it was the token that had caused our success in the first place.”

  “I . . . don’t think that’s how the token works.”

  Kenwood chuckled. “I know that now. But I didn’t realize it until I got back from San Francisco and saw the windmill upright, the bridge fixed, and that waterfall flowing again. The place was swarming with kids, and business has been booming ever since, without us having the token!”

  “How did you know I was the one who fixed your course?”

  “Gertrude.”

  “Miss Gertrude ratted us out?”

  “Yeah, and then she chewed us out! She always told us the token didn’t belong to us, and she was scared we were going to try to hurt your parents when they had it. So, on the day you were born, she just happened to be working at the hospital . . .”

  So that’s why Miss Gertrude stole the token on my birthday.

  “. . . and now you have the token. But it’s different with you. You’re doing good things with it. What’s different about you, Arcade Livingston? I need to know the truth about you.”

  “ARCADE!” Zoe yelled from the hallway. “HOW MANY TIMES A WEEK DO I TELL YOU NOT TO GO IN MY ROOM?”

  I pushed END on the call and jumped in my bed. Closed my eyes to pretend I was resting. Doug busted in.

  “Dude, what happened? You never came down! I can only talk a
bout fondant for so long.”

  Zoe barged in after Doug. “I see big footprint indentations on my carpet, Arcade!” She pulled back my covers and spotted my phone in my hand. “You called him?”

  I sat up. “Yeah. I had to.”

  Zoe threw up her hands. “GREAT! Now he has your number.”

  “He’s been on our doorstep, Zoe! He knows everything about us. And I really don’t think it’s a setup.”

  My phone rang. “It’s him.”

  “Don’t answer it.”

  I not only answered it, I put it on speaker. Kenwood Badger started talking right away.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you. Lenwood and I will be in New York City for an arcade convention on February twenty-second. Meet us at the Bow Bridge in Central Park on the twenty-third, at four o’clock sharp. I have a plan to convince my brother that you’re the one who’s supposed to have the token.”

  He hung up.

  Zoe slumped down on my desk chair. Doug plopped down on the floor. He looked up at our wall calendar. “We got three weeks. What’re you gonna do, Arcade?”

  “I’m gonna meet him at the Bow Bridge at four o’clock sharp on February twenty-third.”

  Zoe stared me down. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

  I pulled my token out from under my pajama shirt. “I don’t. But this dazzling truth detector does.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Arcadia

  The token broke out in light swirls that projected on the ceiling, the walls, and the floor.

  “Yes!” Doug pumped his fist in the air. “We’ve already been as high as we can go and I survived. I’m ready for anything now.”

  Zoe laughed. “Maybe the truth about you is you’re not really afraid of heights, Doug.”

  “I’ve been afraid of heights my whole life.” Doug put a finger to his chin. “Huh.”

  I ran to the closet and put on some jeans, a long-sleeved red T-shirt, and a gray hoodie. Threw on some shoes too. No socks. I didn’t need to turn the light on in the closet. The token lit the place up like a bright, summer day.

  I took my new glasses off my face and blew the dust from the lenses.