“Not so far, although there’s a first time for everything. Sign here, Madison. Then I’ll be on my way.”
He handed me two copies of the contract. They looked like the ones Florida had signed without reading when Mike had delivered the TV to us in Truth or Consequences. I made sure to read every single word.
“Basically, it means we have to be super careful and the MegaPix people aren’t responsible for anything, right?”
“It’s always good to read the fine print.” Mike grinned.
I signed my name on the dotted line beside the big black “X”. One copy I handed to Mike, and the other I kept for myself.
“Well campers, safe travels!” With a wink and a salute, Mike headed out to his rattletrap truck.
Violet, Noah, and I ran outside to watch the Miracle Movers truck bounce down the potholed road. Just as it had back home, the truck screeched, backfired, and then shimmered in the night. We watched as it dissolved into wavy lines, finally disappearing into thin air.
Violet bounced with excitement. “Holy guacamole, that was seriously cool!”
“Not to mention a screaming fast way to commute from New York City. Or wherever the heck he came from. How does he do that, anyway?” Noah ran his fingers through his floppy brown hair.
As much as I would have liked to know the same thing, we didn’t have a spare second to think about it. We had something more important to figure out. How to get ourselves back to the Amazon Rainforest.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Riptide to the Rescue
Back in the lobby, we hovered around the GPS, staring at it as if any second it would reveal its great secret. Even Leroy sniffed it, trying to uncover its mysteries.
Finally, Noah flipped it over. He slid open the back and found a slot for a USB cable connector. “I think I know what to do.” He took the device over to the lobby computer but couldn’t find a USB port to plug it in. The computer was too old.
“Holy schnikies, they need to order a new computer, and fast,” Violet said.
“That could take weeks,” I pointed out. I wasn’t sure Florida had that much time.
“I’ve got it!” Noah’s eyes shined brighter than a cake full of candles.
Somehow I knew exactly what he was about to say.
“Riptide and Wingnut. Come on, let’s go.”
With Noah in the lead and Leroy picking up the rear, we raced down the corridor to Room Five. A ribbon of light streamed through the bottom edge of the surfers’ door. I knocked. Riptide opened it, peeking out through squinty eyes. Then he broke into a broad grin.
“Dudes! Like I totally wasn’t expecting you! Are we having a pajama party or something?”
“Not exactly. We need to use your computer, if that’s OK.” I vowed not to say a word about the MegaPix. It was best to keep the secret to ourselves.
“Yeah, we need to plug this little gizmo into your laptop.” Violet pointed to the GammaRay Particle Scanner in Noah’s hand.
Riptide stared at it. “Whoa. What is that thing?”
“It’s sort of like a virtual detective game,” Noah said. I was glad he covered for me since I’m a lousy liar.
“Sounds totally epic,” Riptide said.
The room looked as if the guys had packed explosives in their suitcases and when they’d opened them, their clothes erupted everywhere. We picked our way over the piles to the desk by the window.
Leroy leaped onto the bed, making himself at home on a wad of wet board shorts next to Wingnut. Wingnut was glued to his computer, wearing headphones over his shaved head as he listened to the kabooms and kapows of videogame warfare.
Riptide paused his game of Battle Wizards and Noah connected the mysterious device to the laptop. The GPS whirred to life. In a flash, the screen turned pitch black.
“Oh man, did that thing just crash my computer? I was about to capture a three-headed dragon and level up.”
“I hate it when that happens,” Noah said.
Just when we thought we’d have to restart the computer, a bright blue text box popped on the screen.
“Looks like it’s time for you to sign in.” Noah nudged me. I scooted my chair over to the keyboard.
Here goes nothing, I thought. Or something, I hoped.
I typed in my name and made up a secret password. Then some text popped on the screen:
Hello, Madison! We’ve been waiting for you!
Who had been waiting? How did they know? I kept reading.
Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of the GammaRay Particle Scanner™. Your GPS will detect gamma rays embedded in the MegaPix 6000’s remote control.
Our mapping system can pinpoint the location of the gamma ray device within a three-mile radius.
Once the GPS is within that radius, it will beep and a red light will flash. Beeps and flashes will become more rapid as the device moves closer to the remote control.
“Wow! A high-tech game of warmer-cooler!” Violet scooched in closer to get a better look at the screen.
Noah could barely stand still. “So that’s how the MegaPix works!”
Uh-oh.
“Wait. Whoa. What’s a MegaPix?” Riptide looked confused.
Violet covered quickly. “Um, it’s just part of this whole game.”
“It’s like a magical teleporter,” Noah added. “A pretend magical teleporter.”
“Gotcha,” Riptide said.
Noah took a deep breath, relieved that his mess-up hadn’t spilled our secrets.
“So how does it work? In the uh, game, I mean.” I was itching to hear what Noah had figured out.
“OK, here’s what I think happens. The gamma rays in the remote must break matter down into pure invisible energy so things can teleport. Then once the energy is out of the gamma ray force field, it assembles back into solid matter.”
“Whoa! Matter, dude?”
“You know, like people. People are matter. Chairs are matter. Dogs are matter. We’re all matter. Anything solid is matter.”
“Well, I’m totally solid, man, and I matter.” Riptide chuckled at his own joke. “Sounds like an awesome game. So are you some kinda super brain?”
“Not really. I just read a lot of stuff.”
But I was realizing more and more that my friend Noah was officially a brainiac. Not to mention modest.
Next I clicked on a tiny map that grew to fill the screen. It was dotted with twinkly gold lights that quickly dissolved and left behind two flashing red targets. One was in Kenya on the continent of Africa. That’s where the remote-control eating lion was probably experiencing a massive case of indigestion. The other was about 2,000 miles southeast of Costa Rica.
“Brazil!” I said.
“Not far from where we did Stranded in the Amazon,” Noah whispered to me so Riptide couldn’t hear.
I shrugged. I didn’t have any idea exactly where we’d been in Brazil since Florida and I hadn’t arrived by airplane like everyone else. We’d traveled there by magic, through the MegaPix.
“How do we get there?” Violet asked.
“Maybe it’s like Battle Wizards. You look for clues in the game,” Riptide suggested.
“That’s one idea,” I said. “Personally, I think we should ask Rosalie Claire.”
“Whoa. You mean the lady at the front desk? She’s a video gamer? Sure wouldn’t have guessed that!” Riptide looked impressed.
“Life sometimes has a way of surprising you,” I said.
It was getting late. I clicked on quit. Another text box popped up on the screen:
Are you sure you want to quit? Do you need transportation?
We gawked at the message. It was as if somebody knew exactly what we needed.
“Click ‘yes!’” Violet got so excited that she reached over and clicked the computer mouse for me.
A cool graphic of a high-tech airplane zoomed across the screen, pulling behind it a banner with this message:
Our luxurious supersonic Astral plane will meet you tomor
row morning at the Quepos Airport—10:00 a.m., sharp. Don’t be late.
Tomorrow morning? It was almost midnight. We didn’t have much time to pack.
We thanked Riptide, who laughed and waggled his head like a springy bobble head. “You know, this game of yours seems gnarly cool. It would be totally awesome if you showed up at the airport and that plane was waiting for you. Like for real.”
Little did he know that’s exactly what we were counting on.
For the first time since we’d arrived, Wingnut glanced up from his computer game. “Hey, when did you guys get here?” His eyebrows scrunched into a unibrow.
Leroy leaned over and licked Wingnut’s whiskery chin.
“Chill out, dude. You got yourself some gross dog breath.”
“Maybe because the dude is a dog,” Violet said.
We thanked Riptide, hurried to our room, and packed our backpacks. I threw in some snacks, just in case. Then we headed for the yellow bungalow to find Rosalie Claire.
CHAPTER NINE
Rosalie Claire
We only made it as far as the lobby. Rosalie Claire, wearing her tattered honey-colored robe, stood in front of the MegaPix 6000, staring.
“Mike was here?” Her wide eyes grew even wider.
Wait a minute! Rosalie Claire knew Mike? My face must have looked so confused that she answered my question before I could even ask it.
“I’ve known Mike for years, back when Grandma Daisy owned the Wildflower Mercantile.”
Wildflower Mercantile was the dusty old shop in downtown Truth or Consequences that sold crystals and herbs. It was famous for its magical remedies.
“How did he know where to find us?” I figured if Rosalie Claire knew Mike that well, maybe she’d also know how he had a knack for showing up at exactly the right time.
“That, Madison, is one of Mike’s many mysteries.”
I wondered what other mysteries Mike kept locked up in his vault of secrets.
“I must admit, I never thought I’d be happy to see this crazy TV contraption again. Although I think we can put it to good use this time, don’t you, Madison?” Then she smiled. I had a feeling Rosalie Claire knew exactly what I planned to do with that videotape.
“Yep,” I said. “Unfortunately there’s a slight glitch.”
We told her about the missing remote, the GPS gizmo, and our plan.
“So we’ll need a ride to the airport first thing in the morning,” I told her. “OK?”
“Not OK.”
Uh-oh. Rosalie Claire hardly ever said no.
“Look, I trust you kids, except I can’t let you go by yourselves to Brazil. Not on my watch.”
“But …”
“But nothing. I’m coming with you.”
And you know what? I was relieved.
“Who’s going to take care of Florida?” I asked.
By then Thomas had wandered in sleepy-eyed from the bungalow.
“Sir Thomas at your service,” he yawned. “I just hope Florida doesn’t start hallucinating again. Herding giant spiders and dinosaurs is not my finest talent.”
Rosalie Claire threw her arms around his neck. “You, Sir Thomas, are my knight in shining armor. And that’s no hallucination.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” He planted a kiss on her head, next to the topknot of her curly black hair.
Early the next morning, I tiptoed in to see Florida. She twisted and turned. Her face was as red as a poppy and her forehead felt like it was on fire.
I kissed her cheek, something I’d never done before because Florida wasn’t the kissy type.
“I’ll hurry as fast as I can,” I promised. And then I ran off to join Rosalie Claire and my friends who were waiting for me in the car.
CHAPTER TEN
Astral Airlines
The bumpy road to the airport snaked along the endless blue Pacific Ocean. Rosalie Claire did her best to dodge the zillions of potholes. I sat in the passenger seat, gazing up through the windshield at the cotton ball clouds that seemed to follow our car as we sped south. I imagined my mom up there, keeping an eye on me, and I thought about Leroy, who’d whimpered when we’d left him behind with Thomas.
“What happens if we find the remote but the MegaPix doesn’t let us go into the past?” asked Violet.
“It has to work,” I said, because it was the only thing I could think of that might help save Florida.
An hour later when we pulled up to the airport, Violet gasped. “Whoa! Are we traveling on a flying chicken? The place looks like a barn.”
That’s exactly what it looked like, except it was the color of mustard. The teeny open-air shack sat in a bright green field in the middle of nowhere. The place didn’t even have a front door.
“We better hurry, it’s five minutes to ten.” Noah bolted from the car.
The four of us sprinted across the dirt parking lot and into the airport with our backpacks. Inside was a chalkboard, posting the day’s departures.
“Uh, guys? There’s no listing for Astral Airlines.” Noah looked worried.
“Never heard of it,” the man behind the check-in desk told us when we asked.
Oh great. Was this the beginning of a wild goose chase?
“I think we should wait anyway,” Rosalie Claire said.
We sat on white plastic chairs at the back of the building where we had a perfect view of the landing strip. When a small propjet touched down on the runway, we got our hopes up, but it was only delivering sacks of mail. It was already 10:45. Our plane was missing in action.
“It’s not coming,” sighed Violet.
“Oh, I think it is,” Rosalie Claire assured her.
All of a sudden I felt it too.
At eleven o’clock we heard a piercing whine, even though the sky was empty except for the puffy cotton clouds. A tiny rickety gunmetal-gray plane appeared from out of nowhere. Its engines groaned as it touched down on the hot gray asphalt. It bounced and roared to a stop, not far from where we sat. I could barely make out the faded blue words painted on the side: Astral Airlines.
“They call that hunk of junk luxurious?” Violet snickered.
“Looks more like a bucket of bolts,” I said.
The airplane door creaked open.
“Your chariot has arrived. Sorry I’m late, Squirt.”
Mike?! Seriously?
Mike, looking official in a navy blue pilot’s uniform, poked his head through the door.
“Well look who’s here,” Rosalie Claire said with a twinkle in her eye. “You could have at least knocked on my door last night and said hello.”
“It was late. I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, I had a feeling I’d be seeing you soon.” Mike winked at her and motioned us toward the plane. “Come on kids, time to get crackin’!” He slid out a metal ladder that screeched and hit the pavement with a clang.
I scrambled up first, wondering if this dilapidated beast could make it all the way to Brazil without going down in flames.
When I got inside, I could hardly believe my eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Flying Deathtrap
The plane may have looked tiny on the outside, but inside it was gigantic. It reminded me of a super ritzy living room. A limousine-sized leather sofa lined one side, and along the other wall stretched a glass dining table for eight. At the back of the jet stood a regulation-sized pool table, which is a pretty weird thing to find on an airplane.
“OK, this is what I call cool!” Violet dropped her backpack onto the paisley rose-colored carpet.
“Now I’m a little less worried about getting us to the Amazon,” Rosalie Claire admitted. “That’s assuming you really know how to fly this thing, Mike. You can fly a plane, right?”
“I got it here in one piece, didn’t I? Besides, they say a chimpanzee could fly this thing. So sit back, strap yourselves in, and let’s ride this baby into the skies!”
The four of us sank into the sofa. It was so squishy soft it nearly swallowed us
whole. On the coffee table sat baskets of foil-wrapped chocolates and sugar-sprinkled gummy worms.
I liked this plane more and more every minute.
The second we clicked on our seatbelts, Mike pushed the throttle and we barreled down the runway.
Our takeoff was whisper quiet as the Astral plane lifted us into the air.
“Open the tabletop and grab yourself some breakfast,” Mike called back to us.
“Hope there’s lunch too. By my calculations it’s going to take about five hours,” Noah said as he tilted up the top of the coffee table. Inside we found little boxes of cereal, steaming hot fried egg sandwiches, fruit, and ice-cold containers of milk.
I chose a box of Froot Loops. As I ate my breakfast, I kept thinking about what might lie ahead in the Amazon jungle. The last time I was there I nearly died plunging over a waterfall. How could it get any worse than that?
We tried playing pool. Violet neatly broke the triangle of balls. They wacked around until the plane dipped and every single one of them skittered to the left side of the table, dropping straight into the pockets.
“Sorry about that. They’re still working on steadying this thing.” Mike shrugged.
Out the window the clouds shot by faster and faster.
“Woo-hoo!” he yelled. “Just hit Mach-1! Seven hundred and sixty-five miles an hour.”
“That means we broke the sound barrier! All right!” Noah raised his fist in the air. “It sure won’t take five hours at this speed!”
“Brainiac,” Violet and I said at exactly the same time, and then we giggled.
We were traveling so crazy-fast I figured there was no question that we’d make it there before lunch.
Since the pool table was useless, we strapped ourselves back into our seats on the sofa and found a deck of cards in the coffee table drawer. We’d just slapped down a round of Crazy Eights when Mike unbuckled his seat belt.
“Bathroom break. Don’t worry, the plane’s on autopilot.” He made his way back to the restroom.
Rosalie Claire had just won the first hand with an eight of hearts when a robot voice blared from the cockpit’s computer.
Hello There, Do You Still Know Me? Page 4