The Mad Scientists of New Jersey (Volume 1)

by Chris Sorensen

  “We weren’t mouthing off and we weren’t being wisenheimers,” said Pudge. “Whatever those are.”

  “Weisenheimers,” said Roxie, pizza sauce dripping out of the side of her mouth. “Smart alecks, wisecrackers...”

  “Those guys had it in for us. And as for the burns,” Eddie said, “that guy Hedges brought it on himself. I pulled something out of the lake, he tried to take it away and somehow the thing burned him. That’s the honest truth, Mr. Rizzotti.”

  Pop scratched his chin and considered Eddie. Then he turned back to Pudge. “What’d I tell you about that lake junk.”

  “Throw it back,” Pudge said.

  “That’s right. Well, for what it’s worth, I believe you. I’m pretty sure Lance’s father is expecting us to call back with an apology, but I think I’ll just let it sit for a while. He’ll probably cancel his weekly order to his office, but hey.” He looked at Roxie. “We’ve got new customers coming in every day, right?”

  Pudge laughed, relieved. His father rose and leaned in. “But I think we should let The Cheesy Breezy sit for a while too.”

  “What?” Pudge looked wounded.

  “Just until this thing blows over. I’ll let you know when you can take her out again. Enjoy your pie.” With that, Pop headed back to the kitchen.

  Pudge grabbed his slice and stuffed it in his mouth. “Not fair,” he mumbled between chews.

  Roxie shook her head. “Eddie whipped up a black hole, almost sending us hurtling after old Cupboard’s wig and you’re worried about a nautical time out?”

  “That was some strange stunt you pulled, Edison,” Pudge said. “How’d you pull it off?”

  Eddie shrugged. “I have no idea. Once I grabbed the aluminum can, my mind started putting all the pieces together for me. Ever since that thing I pulled out of the water crawled on top of me and shot me full of electricity, I feel... different.”

  “Whoa! Hold up!” said Pudge. “It did what? When were you going to tell us that?”

  “That’s a pretty big detail to leave out,” Roxie agreed.

  “And then there’s that voice,” Eddie said.

  “What voice?” asked Pudge. He was clearly about ready to throttle Eddie.

  “I think it’s a man’s voice, but since I’m only hearing it in my head, I’m really not sure.”

  “What did it say?” Roxie asked.

  “Tonight.”

  “What about tonight?”

  “That’s all it said. Tonight. But the voice kept repeating, echoing over and over again. What do you think that means?”

  “It echoed? Maybe someone’s trying to tell you that your head is hollow,” Pudge said and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello... hello... hello...”

  Roxie elbowed him in the ribs. “Or maybe it’s an invitation,” she said as she looked out the window at the lake.

  “I don’t follow,” said Eddie.

  Roxie looked at the two boys as if she was dealing with three-year-olds. “Tonight... tonight... tonight...? Echo... echo...?”

  Eddie looked at Pudge, and the answer clicked for both of them at the same time. “Echo Island!”

  “If you want to get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to go back to Echo Island tonight,” said Roxie.

  “What do you mean me? If I’m going, you’re going, right? Both of you,” said Eddie.

  “You’re asking me to disobey my pop,” said Pudge. He shifted in his seat.

  “Come on, Pudge. Please,” Eddie pleaded.

  Pop stepped away from the kitchen. The phones were ringing off the hook. “Phil,” he called to Pudge, “that new McCarthy kid just called in sick. I’m going to need you to give me a hand.”

  “But Pop!”

  “No buts, wise guy. Finish up and say bye to your friends. The dinner rush is on!”

  Pudge took one last bite of pizza and got up. “Okay,” he said. “But if we get caught...”

  “We won’t get caught, Pudge,” Eddie said. “I promise.”

  Pudge looked to Roxie. “You’re on board too?”

  She smiled. “Aye aye, Captain Phil.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Pudge growled and headed back to the kitchen.

  Eddie looked across at Roxie. She stared back at him. She didn’t say a word, just kept staring at him with that pine air freshener scent of hers. He nibbled on his pizza. Oh boy, thought Eddie. He hoped she didn’t think this was a date. This wasn’t a date. Was it?

  He got so nervous that he blurted out, “So, you’re doing your project on the Jersey Devil?”

  “You know I am,” she said. She wouldn’t unlock eyes with him. She seemed to like to see him squirm. Finally, she broke off.

  “You want to know something funny?” she asked. Eddie shrugged. “The last reported sighting was right here in Lake Mohawk. At the Turtle Cove Diner.”

  Eddie froze. Turtle Cove Diner. Why wasn’t he surprised to hear Roxie mention the name of the diner where his father went missing?

  ***

  Roxie joined him for part of the bike ride home. She rode a black ten speed with no working brakes, as far as he could see.

  “When I went to the library last night to research my project, I hadn’t planned on doing it on the Jersey Devil. I wanted to study the effects of different kinds of music on Venus flytraps.”

  “Mr. Hubbard would have loved that. Another plant project,” Eddie said as he pedaled madly to make it up the steep hill.

  “While I was sitting at a table flipping through some books, this old man who was sitting next to me reading a newspaper suddenly flipped out,” said Roxie. “He threw down his paper and started yelling at the top of his lungs. This old woman, I’m pretty sure she was his wife, had to take him outside to calm him down.”

  “What was he yelling about?”

  Roxie launched into an amazing imitation of an old man. “What are they thinking?” she shouted. “The Devil will get them. The Jersey Devil will get them all!”

  “What did he look like? This old guy?” Eddie asked.

  “Like a regular old guy, I guess. He was wearing a heavy flannel coat and it was a hot day. Weird.”

  Eddie looked over at Roxie as she powered on to the top of the hill, her ratty sweater flapping in the warm breeze, but he didn’t say anything about it. Old guy, heavy flannel coat. That sounded like Abel Sparks, his parents’ old friend.

  “Well, after his wife took him outside I walked over and picked up the newspaper he’d dropped. Right in the middle of the page he had been looking at was an ad for the Turtle Cove Diner. Grand Reopening it said.”

  They had reached the top of the hill and were just starting down. Eddie worried about Roxie’s lack of brakes.

  “I went outside and started talking to them. The woman wanted me to go away, but the old man just kept going on and on about the monster. ‘You believe me, don’t you?’ he asked me, and I swore I did. Then his wife took him away.”

  “Is that it?” Eddie asked.

  “Not quite!” Roxie shouted as she started to speed past Eddie.

  “What else?” called Eddie. By this point, Roxie was almost to the bottom of the hill. How was she going to slow down before she hit the sharp curve?

  “Hold on... whoo-hoo!” Roxie hooted as she reached the bottom of the hill.

  Just before she hit the gravel that would have sent most bicyclists skidding into a world of hurt, Roxie purposely hit a mound of dirt at the side of the road and her bike leapt into the air. She twisted the bicycle gracefully and came down sideways on both tires, kicking up a shower of rocks.

  She came to a complete stop. Eddie was so impressed that he almost forgot to brake himself. He came to a halting stop right next to her.

  “Here.” Roxie pulled a torn piece of newspaper from her pocket and handed it to him.

&
nbsp; “What is it?”

  “An article I looked up after I met the old man,” said Roxie.

  Eddie looked at the ripped paper. “You took this from the library?”

  “That’s another thing you should know about me,” she said.

  “You steal things?”

  “Only from libraries.”

  Eddie looked at the paper. Fire Destroys Turtle Cove Diner. There wasn’t much of a story. Just a quick blurb about the fire and how two people had been rescued from the flames but how two were still missing: a waitress working the late shift and a man named...

  “William Edison,” Eddie read aloud. His voice shook almost as much as his hands. He knew the story as a story, but seeing it in black and white made it way too real.

  “I didn’t understand when old Cupboard said your father disappeared,” said Roxie, “but now I think I do. I think your father was taken by the...”

  “I gotta get home,” Eddie said quickly and tossed the article back to her. It was too much. It was way too much. He turned his bike and started pedaling toward home.

  “Wait!” Roxie called after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “That’s okay,” Eddie said over his shoulder.

  “Are we still going tonight?”

  “Maybe,” he called back to her as he zipped away. “Maybe.”

  ***

  Eddie lay on his bed, looking down at the floor. Where he had last seen the remains of the silver nut there was now only a pile of dust. He’d have to clean it up, get rid of it, but for now he just stared at it.

  It was almost midnight and no Pudge, no Roxie. Maybe they’d decided to leave him alone.

  He was a bit disappointed but also relieved. He wanted things to go back to normal. But what was normal? He couldn’t even remember any more. Every time he let his mind wander, a whirlwind of information filled his head. Diagrams of inventions he’d never even seen, answers to equations he’d never tried to solve. Numbers, symbols, formulae and theories, all jumbled around in his noggin, fighting for his attention.

  And what the heck was ‘string theory’?

  He rolled over and tried to push it all from his mind. Cooper lay next to him on the bed looking concerned. He licked Eddie’s face – a slobbery, wet kiss that smelled like dog treats.

  “You’re lucky, Coop,” Eddie sighed. “All you have to worry about is when your next meal is.”

  A pebble hit the window, and Cooper snapped his head around, growling. When Pudge’s face appeared on the other side of the glass the dog started wiggling with happy recognition.

  Pudge stared in at Eddie. He mouthed, “Are we on or what?”

  Roxie appeared next to Pudge, a lit flashlight in hand. Eddie guessed he could just pull the shade down, and they’d get the hint that he didn’t want to go any further. That they should drop it.

  Instead, he leaned over and opened the window. “I’ll be right out,” he said.

  The surface of Lake Mohawk was still, its surface like glass as The Cheesy Breezy slowly chugged toward Echo Island. Pudge had the running lights off and was piloting by memory. Eddie hoped his memory was good.

  He sat perched at the bow of the boat. He didn’t want to miss a thing. The trouble was there was no moon that night, and they sailed in nearly pitch blackness. Only the scattered lights from the shoreline gave Eddie any sense of where they were.

  “You do this often?” Roxie asked Pudge. “Sail blind?”

  “Nothing to it,” Pudge said smugly.

  Eddie could see the empty house silhouetted up ahead. There was still time to turn back.

  The boat lurched suddenly, and Eddie almost toppled over the edge.

  “Rock,” said Pudge. “Sorry.”

  “Thought you said there was nothing to it,” Roxie snorted. Pudge waved her off.

  “Roxie, hand me your flashlight,” Eddie said. Roxie passed it to him and he flipped it on, scanning the shoreline. “There’s an old dock off to your right, Pudge.”

  “Starboard, you mean,” said Pudge. Roxie rewarded him with a smack to the back of his head. “Ow!”

  Pudge guided the puttering pontoon boat toward the wooden dock, slowing as he went. Once he was close, he cut the motor and let the boat slide up next to the dock.

  “Tie us off, Eddie,” said Pudge.

  Eddie stepped off the boat and onto the dock. As soon as he did so, the rotten wood gave way beneath his feet and he plunged into the water below.

  As he struggled upward, he managed to keep a hold on the flashlight. When he breached the surface, the beam caught a wide-eyed Roxie in the face.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Never better,” he said sarcastically. “Help me up.”

  After Roxie and Pudge pulled Eddie from the water, they agreed they should jump for the shore rather than risk treading on the rickety dock again. Roxie was first, and she made a good show of it. Only her mismatched sneakered feet got wet.

  Eddie went next, but the weight of his wet clothes kept him from doing his best. He landed knee-deep in the water and had to wade the rest of the way.

  “Maybe I should try out for track and field next year,” Roxie gloated. Eddie rolled his eyes at her.

  It was Pudge’s turn. He looked down at the water with trepidation. “I think someone should stay with the boat,” he said. “As a lookout.”

  “A lookout?” Roxie frowned. “What are you going to lookout for? It’s almost one in the morning.”

  “All the same...” Pudge started to say, but trailed off.

  Eddie nodded. “You hang here. Roxie and I will scope things out.” He headed into the brush, Roxie at his heels.

  “Why isn’t he coming with us?” Roxie huffed.

  “If you haven’t noticed, Pudge isn’t the most... athletic guy around.”

  “So?”

  “I think he was embarrassed to try to make the jump,” said Eddie.

  “Embarrassed about what?”

  Eddie stopped and shined the flashlight in Roxie’s face. “About you. He didn’t want you to see him if he fell. Me? He wouldn’t give a lick. But you?”

  Roxie considered this. “That’s actually kind of sweet. No one ever cares what I think. Poor guy. Should I go back and tell him...?”

  “No.”

  “But I just want to tell him that he doesn’t have to be...”

  “Do you want to find out why we’ve been invited here tonight or not?” asked Eddie as he walked on toward the house. Things were always more complicated when you added girls into the mix. They always wanted to talk about feelings and stuff. Maybe he should have left Roxie back on the boat instead of Pudge.

  Roxie looked back toward Pudge one last time and then scampered to catch up. “What do you think we should be looking for?” she asked.

  “I haven’t the foggiest,” Eddie said. “But I’m hoping that we know it when we see it.”

  The house loomed up in front of them. Eddie scanned it with the flashlight. It was covered in graffiti and vines.

  “Hello?” Eddie pushed on the front door. It creaked, fell off its hinges and toppled to the floor. As they entered, Eddie realized it was only a house in theory. The outer walls of the structure remained more or less intact, but the inside of the place was gutted. A fire perhaps?

  “I was the one who brought the flashlight, you know,” said Roxie as she snatched it out of Eddie’s hand. She pointed it upward toward the ceiling. Or at least where the ceiling used to be. The beam reached all the way up to the second floor and beyond. The light revealed the rafters and the roof. The roof was open in spots to reveal the night sky.

  “Hello?” Eddie repeated. The only response was the hoot of an owl, annoyed at having been disturbed.

  “You sure the voice said tonight?” Roxie asked.

  �
��I’m sure. Actually that’s all it said,” said Eddie.

  The two of them searched as much of the house as they could, alternating who got to use the flashlight. Some sections threatened to come tumbling down on them as soon as they stepped onto the floorboards, and they backed off. Finally, when they had searched every inch of the place, Eddie stopped. Nothing. No mysterious figure to welcome him, no disembodied voice to urge him on. Nothing. Eddie shook his head. What else should he have expected?

  He handed Roxie the flashlight. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

  “Not yet. But maybe we aren’t looking close enough.” She moved the flashlight beam around the main room. It glanced off a crumbling staircase, a ruined table and chairs. “Tell me what you see.”

  “That’s silly,” Eddie said.

  “Do it.”

  “All right,” said Eddie. “I spy with my little eye...”

  “Be serious,” Roxie groaned.

  Eddie sighed. “I see a broken window. I see peeling wallpaper.”

  “Go on.”

  “I see a moldy old sofa. I see...” He stopped and squinted his eyes.

  What had happened to the wallpaper? A moment ago it was cracked and hanging off the wall. Now it was back up, no longer faded but a vibrant green.

  “What?” crowed Roxie. “You see what?”

  The shattered window had somehow repaired its glass. What was going on?

  Eddie heard a chirping noise and looked down. Two yellow, blinking eyes peered at Eddie from behind a remarkably restored bookcase. He swiped the flashlight out of Roxie’s hands and trained it on the eyes.

  A metal frog stared up at him. Its skin was polished green chrome. Its yellow eyes ogled him and it burbled, “Rej-jip.”

  “What is that?” Eddie asked.

  “What’s what?”

  “Rej-JIP!” the frog-thing shrieked. It leapt into the air, straight for Eddie’s head.

  With a gasp, Eddie dropped the flashlight, put his hands out to shield himself from the leaping creature and...

  He disappeared. Even before the flashlight hit the ground. “Eddie?” Roxie called. “Eddie?!?”

  Eddie caught the metal frog a split second before it landed on his face. Its mouth opened and closed on squeaky hinges as it croaked, “Rej-jip! Rej-jip! Rehhhj-jip!”