Pudge and Roxie walked up. “Tough break, Einstein,” Pudge said. “Still, things could be worse, huh?”
“They sure could,” Eddie said. “Thanks, by the way.”
Roxie considered him a moment, her head tilted. “I know how we got away from Sly.”
“Yeah,” interrupted Pudge. “He zapped us outta there, or something. Gave me a headache.”
“But what about you?” Roxie asked. “How’d you get free?”
“And where’s that guy Sly now?” Pudge added.
Mr. Hubbard slapped his desk with a ruler. “Ms. Michael, Mr. Rizzotti? Unless you care to join Mr. Edison in summer school, I suggest you see yourselves out.”
Roxie and Pudge complied. As Roxie exited the room, she turned back and said, “That’s Michaels with an S, Mr. Cupboard.” And she was gone.
Eddie knew he’d catch up with them later. But what did he plan on telling them? That Sly was still on the loose? That his father was now the Jersey Devil? How much would be enough, and how much would be too much? He wanted to protect his friends as best he could.
“I’ll figure it out when the time comes,” he told himself.
Mr. Hubbard sat on the edge of his desk, his newly-shaven head gleaming in the fluorescent lights. He looked out at the few students who remained. “As you know, I have headed up the summer school program since the dawn of time. But I’ve been promising Mrs. Hubbard a trip to Miami Beach for years, and it looks like she’s not going to let me out of it any longer.”
Eddie and the others let out a hopeful gasp.
“No, that does not mean you are relieved of your academic duties. It simply means that while you are here trying to catch up with the rest of your class, I will be lying in the sun with a coconut drink in my hand.”
There was a knock at the door. “Ah! Here he is,” said Mr. Hubbard. “Students, let me introduce your summer school teacher.”
With that, Mesmer stepped into the room. Eddie’s eyes almost fell out of his head. “Mr. Mesmer, is it?” Hubbard asked.
“That’s right.” Mesmer grinned.
Mr. Hubbard gathered up his briefcase and papers. “Then, I’ll leave you to it. Best of luck, Mr. Mesmer.” Hubbard threw Eddie one last nasty look. “You’ll need it.”
Eddie watched as Mesmer sat at Hubbard’s desk. His clothes were as mismatched and rumpled as ever. He picked up one textbook, then another, regarding each as a child would his vegetables. He dropped them in the wastebasket.
He glanced up. “What are you still doing here? Summer school doesn’t start until Monday morning. Off with you, off with you!” Eddie’s fellow classmates wasted no time in bolting for the door.
It was just the two of them. Eddie and Mesmer. “How could you?” asked Eddie.
“Pardon?”
“You knew he’d be down there in the old lab, didn’t you? Sly.”
Mesmer shrugged. “I might have had my suspicions.”
Eddie rose, walked over to the teacher’s desk and leaned in toward Mesmer. “And did you know he had my father locked up in that device of his?”
“I might have suspected.”
Eddie shook his head. “Then why didn’t you help me? You sent me down there all alone to face him. You said you’d be there if I needed you. You promised!”
Mesmer stood up, grabbed two erasers from the tray beneath the blackboard and clapped them together. A cloud of chalk dust rose, making Mesmer cough.
“Excuse me, am I boring you?” Eddie asked, growing angry.
Mesmer just smiled. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re standing right in front of me. You seem to be in one piece. I’d say if you had really needed me, and I hadn’t shown up, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“But...!”
Mesmer put a chalky hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I can’t always help you the way you want to be helped. Don’t ask me why, because I can’t tell you. Only know that everything I do is in both of our best interests.”
“Sly doesn’t know who you are,” Eddie said. “When he was pretending to be my father, he told me he couldn’t figure you out. That’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it is,” Mesmer said.
Eddie waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Eddie sighed. He was done trying to make sense of things.
Outside, off in the distance, a piercing whistle filled the air. It might have been a passing train, but Eddie didn’t think so.
“My dad is still trapped inside Sly’s monster,” Eddie said. “Will I ever be able to get him out?”
Mesmer clapped his hands together. Chalk dust flew. “Sounds like a fun summer school project to me!”
Coming Soon!
Book Two in the
Mad Scientists of New Jersey Series
Chris Sorensen is a Mad Scientist who lives with his wife Deborah and their two mutts in the Garden State of New Jersey. In his spare time he writes stories about the odd and unusual. He has dabbled in audiobook narration (200 titles recorded to date), played around with screenwriting (has a number of scripts in various stages of development) and tried his hand at playwriting (the Thin Air Theatre Company & Butte Theater of Cripple Creek, Colorado have produced fourteen of his plays). He has attempted to create a time machine of his own but has yet to succeed in this endeavor.
Thanks to my remarkable, creative and determined wife Deborah Graybill for believing in me.
Thanks to Tonya Copley and her students at Cresson Elementary School in Colorado, Holly Sturgill and her reading group at Benjamin Franklin School in New Hampshire as well as Ethan, Logan and Johnny for being early readers.
Thanks to Doreen Mulryan (doreenmulryan.com) for bringing the cover art to life and to Sondra Wolfer, Kevin Agnew and Nick Sullivan for lending their eyes.
And a final thanks to my nephews Gentry, John and Noah for letting their crazy uncle try out his storytelling skills on them.
The Mad Scientists of New Jersey (Volume 1) Page 14