Yes!
Vice Principal Rose was walking Keira toward him. Eric could see her struggle, but he knew she was no match for the vice principal, even in his odd, robot-like state. He tried to catch her eye but she wasn’t looking in his direction.
Then he noticed an odd-looking gun on the floor maybe five or six feet away. It was just like the one Fiona had been holding. A dart gun. Keira must have dropped it when she’d been grabbed.
Trying not to draw attention, Eric lifted his head until it was level with his body, then shifted his gaze so he was looking over his chest and out the window at Fiona. She was still fighting with the gardener, the bush between them keeping the man from getting full control of her.
Though they continued to hold Eric in the air Peter, Tommy and Kyle seemed to be frozen in place like they were waiting for something. That something was undoubtedly the moment the Trouble sisters were under full control. As soon as that happened, he knew the boys would start moving him out again.
He counted to three in his mind, then jerked up so that his hips quickly sagged toward the floor. He rolled to the right, freeing first his legs from Kyle’s grip and then his shoulders from Peter and Tommy’s.
With a thunk, he landed on the floor.
Pain shot up his right arm, but he ignored it as he scrambled across the floor toward the gun. He had definitely caught the three boys by surprise. They hadn’t even tried grabbing him until he’d fallen out of their grasps.
The gun only two feet in front of him, he reached out to grab it with his right hand, but his fingers remained curled in a tight fist, not moving. Apparently, it was the only part of his body he still hadn’t regained control of.
He switched hands, thrusting his left out, but just as he was about to latch onto the dart gun’s handle, someone grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. He looked around and saw Peter Garr grinning at him.
Eric kicked at the other boy’s hand and said, “Let me go!”
Peter’s grip loosened but he didn’t let go. As Eric kicked again, his left hand knocked against something on the floor. He looked. It was the misfired dart Fiona had shot. Hoping it would still work, he grabbed it, sat up, and jabbed it into Peter’s arm. Peter froze for a moment, then looked at Eric, surprised, before passing out on the floor.
Free now, Eric dove for the gun. Once it was in his hand, he moved it around so that all the others could see it. “Let my friends go and leave us alone,” he said.
Everyone stared at him, including the Trouble sisters.
“I said, let them go,” he repeated.
There was silence for a moment, then Vice Principal Rose said, “We’ll see you soon.”
One by one, Tommy, Kyle, the vice principal, and the gardener outside fell to the ground.
The second she was free, Fiona scrambled through the window. “What happened? Did it fall off of you?”
“Did what fall off of me?” Eric asked.
“You were frozen, weren’t you? You couldn’t move?”
“Well, yeah.” Then he remembered. “You mean this?”
He pried open the fingers on his right hand. In his palm was a gold ball, not much bigger than a bearing for a bicycle wheel. As he tossed it to her, he was suddenly able to move his fingers again.
“Watch out!” Keira shouted, scrambling backwards.
Fiona swung her arm out in an attempt to bat the sphere away, but missed.
It fell to the floor, bounced once, and then—
“This is just—”
— landed on her shoe.
Instantly, her voice was cut off and she froze in position.
“What is that?” Eric asked.
Instead of answering, Keira walked over to her sister and smiled. “I kind of like her like this, don’t you?”
“Don’t get too close!” Eric warned.
“Relax. It only works on one person at a time.”
In the distance, Eric could hear someone walking slowly down one of the hallways.
“We’ve got company,” he said.
Keira studied her sister for a moment longer then said, “Well, it was great while it lasted.”
She pulled a pair of tongs out of her bag and carefully used them to pick the gold ball off her sister’s foot.
“—great,” Fiona finished saying, glaring at her sister.
“Don’t look at me,” Keira said. “He’s the one who threw it at you.”
Fiona shivered like she’d just tasted something horrible and then stood up.
“At least it didn’t touch your skin,” Keira said, looking back at Eric. “There’s a sandwich bag in my backpack. Grab it for me.” When he didn’t move right away, she said, “Now would be good. Before whoever’s coming shows up.”
Eric shook himself, then found a bag with a half-eaten sandwich still inside. He held it out to her.
“Just the bag. Not the sandwich.”
He dumped the sandwich into Peter Garr’s lap and then handed the bag over.
In one smooth motion, Keira moved the tongs over the bag and dropped the ball inside. Once she sealed it, she smiled. “All done.”
Fiona frowned at Eric. “Why didn’t you use your emergency beacon?”
“I…I left it at home,” Eric said.
“You left it at home?” She was not happy.
“It was a unicorn necklace,” he pleaded. “I can’t carry around a unicorn necklace.”
She covered her eyes with her hand.
“Hey, Eric,” Keira said. “Catch.” She tossed him the bag.
Unable to jump out of the way, he reached out, caught the bag by the upper edge, and then held it out at arm’s length.
“Relax,” Keira told him. “It can’t hurt you now.”
“But this bag is just thin plastic,” he countered.
“That’s all it takes.”
Whoever was walking toward them was getting closer.
“Time to leave,” Fiona whispered. She grabbed the dart Eric had poked Peter with, then moved over to the open window and climbed through.
Eric grabbed his bag from where Tommy had dropped it, stuffed the sealed gold ball inside, and went to the window. But before he could go through, Keira pushed past him.
“Girls first,” she said.
He glanced back at the other end of the corridor, knowing someone was going to come around the corner at any second.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he whispered to Keira.
The moment she was clear, he threw his leg over the windowsill, rolled through the opening, and dropped to the ground outside.
Just as he got to his knees, he heard Ms. Lindgren’s voice from inside. “What in the world is going on here? Vice Principal Rose? Is that you?”
Fiona tapped Eric on the arm and mouthed, “Let’s go.”
TROUBLE FAMILY SERVICES
TFS HISTORY
JEREMY TROUBLE (Mr. Trouble 1982–2010)
While taking an advanced flying class in Florida, Jeremy Trouble (b. 1959, St. Louis, MO) met instructor and Ireland native Deirdre Owens. They married a year later and six months after that Jeremy’s father William died, making Jeremy the new Mr. Trouble.
Jeremy continued the high level of service TFS had been known for, while also being a loving father to his three children: son Ronan, and daughters Fiona and Keira.
He was the first to give non-blood relatives active roles in the family business — his wife’s brothers, Colin and Carl Owens.
His life was tragically taken in 2010.
RONAN TROUBLE (Mr. Trouble 2010—present)
The current Mr. Trouble, Ronan Trouble (b. 1987, Santa Monica, CA), trained for many years under his father and has already completed many successful jobs. In addition to Ronan, the current Trouble Team includes: his sisters, Fiona and Keira; his mother and her brothers; and various other family members as needed.
11
The same dinged-up sedan from the night before was waiting at the curb in front of the school. Mother Trouble was s
itting behind the wheel this time and, much to Eric’s surprise, Maggie was sitting in the back.
Fiona got in up front while Eric and Keira squeezed into the rear seat with Maggie. As soon as the doors were shut, Mother Trouble hit the gas and they raced away from the school.
“What are you doing here?” Eric asked Maggie.
Fiona answered before Maggie could speak. “My brother was worried she might be targeted if you suddenly disappeared from school by coming with us. They know she’s your best friend so she’d be an obvious way to get to you. Like it or not, you’ve involved her in your troubles. Now we have to keep an eye on both of you.”
Maggie looked like she was doing everything she could to hold back her anger. “I was just going to the bathroom and they kidnapped me! Eric, we’re supposed to be in history right now, turning in our report. I swear, if we get an F, I’m going to…” The next sound out of her mouth was a frustrated growl.
“What?” Keira asked. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d love to hear what you’d do.”
“Ugh!” Maggie said, then turned to the window and crossed her arms.
After a few moments of silence, Mother Trouble asked, “Problems getting him out?”
“You could say that,” Fiona said.
“Maker attack,” Keira said.
Fiona shot her a look.
“What?” Keira said. “That’s what it was, and it’s not like these two don’t already know.”
Their mother pressed her lips tightly together.
Fiona glanced at her mom. “Ronan already told them about the Makers. He shouldn’t have done that.”
Her mother glanced over and then back at the road. “He’s under a lot of stress. It’s always hard when a new Mr. Trouble takes over.”
“He’s been in charge for over a year now,” Fiona argued.
“And it may take him another year before he feels completely comfortable. Your job is to support him, not give him a hard time. And we all know this particular case is turning out to be a little more involved than we expected.”
Fiona frowned.
“So,” Eric said after a few moments of silence, “are you saying that Peter and Tommy and Kyle are Makers?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Fiona said.
Maggie turned back from the window and looked at Eric. “What happened?”
He took a deep breath, then told her about Peter and his friends, the gold ball, and their escape.
As soon as he finished, Maggie leaned back against the seat, her eyes staring at an invisible point somewhere in the distance. He had seen the look before. She was in major think mode. Based on past experience, it could easily go on for several minutes. He asked Fiona, “What did you mean when you said ‘a little more complicated than that’?”
She looked back at him through the gap between the two front seats. “I mean your friends aren’t Makers.”
“Wait,” he said. “They’re not my friends. And, yes, they can be jerks most of the time. But the way they’ve been acting lately, especially just now, that’s not normal even for them. Something’s got to be wrong with them. Did you hear the way they sounded when they talked?”
“Monotone?” Keira suggested.
“Yes,” Eric said, his eyes widening. “Did they talk to you when you tried to stop them earlier?”
“No, but it’s standard.”
Eric stared at her for a second, then said in a voice much too loud for the car, “Standard for what? Robots in a science fiction movie?”
The silence that followed stretched for nearly half a minute. Finally, Eric said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mother Trouble told him. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You have a lot on your mind.” She looked at him through the rearview mirror. “You’re worried about her, aren’t you? Your mother?”
The mention of his mom caught him by surprise. He was worried about her, every second of the day. He knew she couldn’t have gone on a business trip. Wherever she was, he had this dreadful feeling it had to do with him.
“Yes. I’m worried,” he whispered.
“Of course you are,” Mother Trouble said. “I’ll bet your mom would be proud of the fact you’re doing everything you can to bring her back. If you stay strong, you will see her again.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
He knew that wasn’t a guarantee, but it did make him feel a bit better.
Mother Trouble glanced at Fiona. “I think you should tell him.”
“I think we should wait,” Fiona whispered back.
But Eric’s hearing was better than most. “Wait for what?”
She huffed out a breath, then twisted in her seat again and looked directly at him. “Until we’re sure of what we’re dealing with.”
“Honey,” Mother Trouble said. “I’m pretty sure we know what we’re dealing with.”
“But it’s still just a guess,” Fiona said. “That’s not the way Dad taught us to do things.”
“Your father’s not in charge anymore. Your brother is. You need to remember that.”
Silence once again fell over the car, but this time it seemed different than before. Eric could feel the tension between the three Trouble family members. It was like Fiona had crossed a line she wasn’t supposed to.
Finally, Fiona said, “Mom…I’m…I’m…”
“Sweetheart,” Mother Trouble said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. If you feel like you should wait, then you should wait. I’d forgotten for a moment that you’re the team leader. That means it’s your decision, not mine.”
Fiona’s silence let everyone know that waiting was what they were going to do. But Eric had reached the point where he didn’t care what she thought was best. He wanted answers. As he leaned forward to tell her just that, Maggie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. When he looked at her, she shook her head.
“Not now,” she mouthed.
She glanced past him at Keira, then up at Fiona. Eric followed her gaze.
Keira had turned so that she was looking out the window like she wanted to be anywhere else but there. And Fiona had tilted her head down and was staring at her lap. It was obvious to Eric that whatever they were thinking about had nothing to do with his problems. Maybe his questions could wait a little longer.
After ten minutes, the still-silent car pulled up next to the Lady Candice. At first, no one moved. Finally, Fiona and her mother looked at each other.
Mother Trouble smiled. “It’s okay, dear. Like I said, you didn’t say anything wrong.”
Fiona seemed to be holding off a tear as she tried to smile back.
Her mother reached out and touched Fiona’s cheek, then turned to the back seat. “All right. Let’s go. There’s work to be done.”
Once outside, Eric whispered to Maggie, “What exactly was that all about?”
She looked at him as if he were stupid, then shook her head and said nothing.
A noise from inside the plane preceded Mr. Trouble’s appearance in the doorway. “Ah, good, you’re here,” he said. “Everyone safe, I assume?”
Fiona wiped a hand across her cheek and said to the others, “Wait here.”
She strode with purpose over to the ladder and climbed up. The moment she reached the doorway, she started talking to her brother. Every few seconds, he would look past her toward Eric and Maggie, the expression on his face growing more and more serious each time.
When Fiona was through, Mr. Trouble patted her on the back and moved so she could pass inside. Once she was out of sight, he clapped his hands together and said, “All right, then. Mom, I think we need you up here for an XK-eleven.”
“I thought as much,” Mother Trouble said, heading toward the plane.
“Eric? Maggie? Keira will take you to the workshop.”
“Follow me,” Keira said.
She led them around to the very back of the aircraft, then opened a small metal panel. Inside was a t
ouch screen that came to life when she brushed a fingertip across it.
“Stand clear,” she said.
As she touched the screen again, an electric motor began whirling somewhere just inside the craft. Almost immediately, a large section of the back of the plane lowered all the way to the ground like a drawbridge. Mounted on the other side of the section were stairs that led up the ramp into the Lady Candice.
“Hello!” Uncle Colin called down from the top of the ramp. As before, he was wearing his bright white lab coat. “Come in, come in.”
Eric shared a look with Maggie, then shrugged and headed up the ramp. Maggie followed behind, with Keira bringing up the rear.
As soon as Eric neared the top, Uncle Colin said, “I’m so happy you’re still with us.” With that, he turned and opened the door behind him. “Now, everyone inside.”
The room they were led into was larger than Eric expected. It took up what he guessed to be about a third of the plane. It was windowless and grew wider and taller going forward as it followed the shape of the fuselage. It was also filled with some of the oddest items Eric had ever seen on an airplane, either in person or in the movies.
Along each wall was a waist-high workbench complete with vices and clamps to hold things in place. Little sets of drawers containing who-knew-what ran along the back of the opposing benches, while tools hung on the wall above, held in place by plastic snaps. Under the benches were cabinets with clear plastic doors.
On the floor in front of each workbench were odd-looking metal tracks. They were made even odder by the wooden stools — one per side — attached to them. Eric figured they were designed so a person could sit on the stool and move from end to end as they worked without falling over.
On the walls that didn’t have hanging tools above the workbenches were dozens of electrical panels and devices. There were also several television monitors suspended from the ceiling on poles that seemed to allow the screens to be moved up out of the way or down into view as needed.
The wall at the other end of the room, opposite the door, was a floor-to-ceiling dry-erase board covered with notes, calculations, and a few anime character drawings. Keira’s contribution, no doubt.
Here Comes Mr. Trouble tfc-1 Page 9