by Jody Feldman
“This is a timed challenge. In fact, you are competing directly with the clock and not with anyone in this room. We have preset a time you need to beat in order to advance to the next round. Don’t bother to ask what that time is; it’s our little secret. But it is possible that none of you will continue. It’s also possible that all of you will. It boils down to this: Only those who answer all five questions correctly might move on. Just work as quickly as you can.
“When you have finished, please remain silent and in your seat. Your GollyReader is loaded with some games, just for fun, to keep you busy. In addition, the pens and paper have no hints or information of any kind, but feel free to use them as you’d like. And that’s all you need to know for now.”
No, it wasn’t. How and when would they know if they moved on? What if his GollyReader malfunctioned? What if he himself did?
“I’d ask if there are any questions, but I cannot give you any answers except yes, no, yes, yes, no, and no.” She laughed. “Just a very little humor. Sorry.
“Everything I’ve said is repeated on the instruction sheet inside your gear bag. Take a minute to look it over.”
Cameron read through the instructions. Nothing new.
Sharryn cleared her throat. “As always in the Games, we’re watching you. No talking, no standing, no neck craning. You won’t have time for that anyway. You need to finish fast. But no pressure.”
They all laughed.
She held up her hand. “On my count, you will begin. Five, four, three, two, one!”
Cameron’s GollyReader flashed “Go!”
He touched Play. There were five questions and a list of twenty-one possible answers.
TO TYPE IN YOUR ANSWERS, TOUCH THE ANSWER TAB.
1. RHYMES WITH A SYNONYM FOR “MORE ANGRY.”
2. PARTY FOR A CERTAIN RODENT, PERHAPS?
3. HOMOPHONE FOR A SPECIFIC LANGUAGE OR NATIONALITY.
4. METHOD A STAGEHAND MIGHT USE TO MOVE A HEAVY PROP ONTO THE STAGE.
5. (A) THIS WORD IS IN ITS PLURAL FORM; (B) THIS WORD DOES NOT CONTAIN THE 18TH LETTER OF THE ALPHABET; (C) THE LAST LETTER OF THIS WORD MATCHES THE FOURTH LETTER OF THE ONLY OTHER WORD THAT FITS BOTH (A) AND (B).
ANSWER CHOICES:
CAULIFLOWER
CLING
COPPERHEAD
CRASH COURSE
DRAGON
DREGS
ELEVATOR DOOR
FINISH
FLAGS
FROGS
GEESE
GRAPES
HAMSTER BALL
HOGTIE
LADDER
MOUSETRAP
ODORS
PRONGS
STRESSED
TEMPERATURE
ZIPPER
There was only one way to tackle this. One question at a time. Number one: synonym for “more angry.” The only synonym he could think of without really thinking: mad. Madder? Was madder there? He skimmed the list. No. Wait. Rhymes with . . .
He looked again. Ladder!
Should he type it in or solve the next? What would take less time? Obviously not worrying about what would take less time. He glanced at question two—party for a certain rodent, perhaps—and let that roll around in his mind while he switched to the answer screen.
Rodent party? And what did the “perhaps” mean?
Cameron typed L-A-D-D-E-R faster than he thought he could, which was a good thing, because simultaneously typing one thing and thinking about another? Not working.
Okay, next. Rodent party. He scanned the list for animals. Dragon (fictional, but still), frog, geese, mousetrap. A mouse was a rodent, right? But the trap was no party for mice. Copperhead? Wasn’t that an animal? Snake, maybe. Hamster. Rodent? Yeah. Hamster ball. Like those clear balls with doors for hamster exercise. His friend Timothy had one, and his hamster seemed to have a ball in that ball. Was that like a hamster party?
Wait. What about the other definition for “ball”? A dress-up-and-have-a-bow-tie-choke-you party? That was it! Double meanings. That’s why “perhaps.” The hamster ball could be the pet toy, but it could also be a bunch of rodents whooping it up. Or if a pig went to a hamster ball, he could wear a hogtie, ha-ha! Hogtie. Hamster ball. Puns!
He typed in H-A-M-S-T-E-R B-A-L-L.
Number three: homonym for a specific language. For the first time Cameron was so glad his sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Reading, had practically bashed in their skulls drilling in the difference among homonyms and homographs and homophones.
This would be easy. He looked at the list, taking it one word at a time.
cauliflower
cling
copperhead
crash course
dragon
dregs
elevator door
finish
flags
frogs
geese
grapes
hamster ball
hogtie
ladder
mousetrap
odors
prongs
stressed
temperature
zipper
Cauliflower, cling, copperhead, crash course, dragon—
He was just reading. Not concentrating. Cauliflower, no. Cling. Did anyone speak cling? Could a person be described as Clingish like British or Clingan like American? Nah. Copperhead. A nation of people with copper-colored hair? Nope. Crash course, no. Dragon? Sounded closer to American, but he’d never heard of the country Drago unless it was in a sci-fi story. Dregs, like bottom dwellers. Doubtful. Elevator door? That would be funny. Finish. He wished he were finished and on to the next round. Flags—
He was doing it again. Just running through words. Okay. Not elevator door. But finish. Wasn’t that what they called people from Finland? And did they speak Finish or Finnish or however you spelled it?
Now he could scan the rest of the list. He paused at every word, but finish was the only one that seemed right. He typed it in.
Question four: method a stagehand might use to move a heavy prop onto the stage.
Carry? Shove? Push? Pull? Lift? Haul? None of those words was on the list. What was? Zipper? Zip it on? Furnish? Furniture movers? Crash course? Crash into it with a car and have it slide into place. Dragon? Have it fire-breathe the prop through its nose. Wait. Dragon. Drag. Drag on. That was a method, a real one!
He entered that. Now for the last question, a three-parter. First, it needed to be plural. Which words on the list ended in S? Dregs, flags, frogs, grapes, odors, prongs. Should he write them down? Only if necessary. Second, the word didn’t contain which letter? Eighteenth, R. That left only flags. But wait. According to instruction C, the last letter of the right word had to be the same as the fourth letter of the wrong word. That meant he should still have two words. What had he missed?
Back to the list. The first word. Was cauliflower its own plural? Was there such a thing as cauliflowers? Didn’t matter. The R disqualified it. What else? Another word had to be here. There! Geese.
Which word now? The last letter of geese wasn’t even in flags, but yes! The last letter of flags matched the fourth letter of geese.
Cameron hit the Answer tab and typed in F-L-A-G-S.
Should he recheck all his answers? No. This was a race against time. He hit Enter.
The screen flashed, “Congratulations on finishing the challenge. If you wish, choose one of these games to play while you’re waiting.”
He didn’t wish. He wished he knew if he’d made it to the next round. He wished he knew if Spencer had. He wished he could stand and pace and not be accused of cheating. He hit the Golly Gobblin’ Goblins icon. And he waited.
Cameron gobbled all the goblins in levels one and two. It was better than counting his heartbeats. He clicked Go for level three. The screen faded to black and came back pure green. And with that, a few groans from around the room.
“Okay, then!” Sharryn’s voice came from behind them. She raced to the front. “You can breathe, you can sigh, y
ou can move your heads and your arms, which I need you to do right now. Move your arms, that is. I need you to hold up your GollyReaders so I can see the screens.
“Green, blue, and red. Some of each.”
“What does that mean?” a girl said.
“It means this. And please keep your GollyReaders held high. Red screen people, you probably know, but your time at the Games has come to an end. Either you did not finish, or you entered an incorrect answer. You can lower your GollyReaders.”
“Blue screen people. Good job! You got all the answers right.”
Cameron’s heart sank.
“However, you didn’t beat the clock. Sorry, your time here is over as well. You can lower your GollyReaders. Which leaves us with Spencer, Lauren, and Cameron. Green screens? You’re moving on!”
Before Cameron could breathe, Spencer had hoisted him out of his chair. Cameron’s GollyReader went airborne, but he managed to catch it before it crashed to the ground. Then Lauren rushed over to join their party. Spencer’s excitement must have overtaken his personality because he didn’t tell her this was brothers only. Then again, she was sort of pretty.
Cameron pulled away to catch the scene in the rest of the room. Sharryn was ushering the others to Wanda at the door. A couple of kids were crying, one was on the verge, two had that somber but-what-did-I-expect look, and the other two were laughing together.
Cameron doubted he would have cried. No way he’d be laughing, but he could laugh now, all he wanted.
And then he noticed both TV screens in their room. They’d sprung to life with probably a horrifying preview of what was to come. It was a shot of some real objects from this last challenge: a ladder, flags, a human-sized hamster ball, and a dragon-shaped balance beam, plus monkey bars and tires and other intimidating things all set up obstacle-course style.
“I said you almost beat me, Cameron.”
He turned to Spencer. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that when I finished, I looked at you with my amazing peripheral vision—have I ever told you about my amazing peripheral vision?”
“Daily.”
“Ha!” said Spencer. “Good one. So you typed something, then sat back with that smirk like you owned the world, but I owned it first.”
Figured. Cameron also figured he’d hear an earful when Spencer caught sight of the TV screen. But Cameron had seen that first. Ha! Eventually Spencer would notice, and Cameron could say, “That? That was like so twenty minutes ago.” Not that he’d actually say it—out loud anyway.
The three of them moved toward the kitchen area, where Sharryn had just finished typing something into her own GollyReader. “Ready to move on?”
“To what?” said Spencer and Lauren at the same time.
Sharryn raised her eyes to the TV screen.
Confirmed. If the next competition really was an obstacle course, mighty ship Cameron was on a fast dive for the ocean floor. There was a reason he ran long-distance track instead of training for the hurdles or the high jump.
“Sorry, bro,” Spencer said to Cameron. “It was nice competing with you.”
At least Cameron might still have bragging rights: that he was the little brother of a kid who made it to the Gollywhopper Games finals. If that counted for anything.
“All righty.” Sharryn turned off her GollyReader. “As you may have surmised, you’ll be heading to the football field for your next challenge.” She pointed toward the front of the room. “If you were to look beyond the curtain, you’d see six contestants, each running one of six identical courses. This has been going on all day. Each of you will face the course. And yes, you will be timed. We will combine your course time with the time it took you to complete the challenge from this room. The ten with the best scores will move to the finals.”
If Spencer had smiled any bigger, his face would have split in two. It was simple math. Spencer had finished the GollyReader challenge faster than Cameron. Spencer was the fastest runner in their school. Add the two together, and Cameron didn’t stand a chance. Sure, there were nine other spaces, but still . . .
At least he could create and post a video ode to Spencer, who would send the link to all his friends, earning the video more than a dozen hits.
Spencer and Lauren were jabbering together down the hall and inside the elevator.
Sharryn smiled at Cameron. “You’re quiet, buddy. Overwhelmed?”
He shook his head a little.
“Maybe you’re just the silent type.”
Cameron nodded. Then he laughed. “I guess that proves it.”
“It’s refreshing,” Sharryn said, “as long as you’re not too silent.”
The elevator doors opened, and she led them past the stadium concession area and through a door marked “Media Room.”
About twenty other kids all turned to see who’d come in.
Spencer leaned over to Cameron. “Competition doesn’t look that fierce.”
“Don’t underestimate anyone,” Sharryn said. “And this is where I leave you. There’s a chance I will see you later, but if I don’t, good luck.” She was gone with a wave.
A man in the room closed the door behind them. “And with these three,” he said in a voice loud enough so everyone could hear, “we’re ready to begin. Are you ready?”
A few kids shouted, “Yeah!” The rest of them were pitifully quiet. Nerves?
“I said, Are you ready?”
That got him the reaction he wanted.
“Quick introductions. I am Hubert Plago, Vice President of Golly Toy and Game Creation. We are the ones who think up, build, and manufacture all the new Golly products. Best job ever, by the way. And this is Rena Jenkins, Vice President of Human Resources.”
“Which means, in part,” said Rena Jenkins, “that I’m in charge of the people who do a lot of hiring and firing. So if someone treats you poorly here, he or she is fired.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound all that funny. “Tough crowd,” she said.
Hubert Plago gave her a weak smile. “Anyway, congratulations to you, our fourth group of twenty-four today!”
Rena Jenkins stepped in front of him. “Your next challenge—”
Something like a small explosion shook the room, then there was silence. Part of their next challenge?
Rena Jenkins gave a slight smirk.
“Was that you firing someone, Rena?”
“Um, yes. Um, no. Um, I don’t know what that was, but your next challenge will help determine if you are one of our ten finalists. And here are the rules and procedures.”
“Rules? Procedures? Who wants those?” Hubert Plago laughed. So did most of them.
Rena Jenkins glared at him. “We need rules here.”
Hubert Plago was still laughing. “Of course, of course. So because we need rules, we’ll repeat what you’ve already been told. The ten of you who have the fastest combined times—obstacle course plus today’s other challenge—are our finalists. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not quite that simple, Hubert,” said Rena Jenkins. “If you cannot correctly complete a leg of the course, go to the next. You will, however, incur penalty seconds, which will far exceed the time it takes an average person to do the same task. Skip them all, and we add thirty minutes to your time.”
Hubert Plago nodded. “And now, that’s all, except who wants to go first?”
Several hands shot up. Not Spencer’s and not Cameron’s, though he wanted to be done with this.
“And who wants to go last?”
Spencer’s hand went up.
Cameron looked at him.
“You know I need time to stretch and visualize,” Spencer said.
“Sorry to tease you,” said Hubert Plago. “You don’t get to choose.”
Rena Jenkins held up a yellow box. Its top had a hole with rubber flaps. “Reach in, grab a numbered ball, and that will be your order for the obstacle course. Line up. Pronto.”
Cameron would’ve loved to record kids jumping and shouting
out their numbers, almost as if they’d won a hundred dollars.
He latched on to ball number five. That was good. No. That was perfect. Enough time to catch his breath, but not so much that his nerves would turn him goofy.
Spencer pulled his ball: twelve. “I need to swap,” he said.
It was like Rena Jenkins had superpower ears. “No swapping. You get what you get. Numbers one and two, come and bring your gear bags!” She opened the door, and another Golly person led the two girls away.
“For your viewing pleasure.” Hubert Plago pushed a button on the wall, and a large screen came down from the ceiling. “Looney Tunes,” he said. “Some of my favorites.”
The noise was good. Bugs Bunny popping out of his hole, munching a carrot, was still funny. Cameron needed this distraction; otherwise, his expectations would climb and his hopes would soar. Then, when he was sent home, he’d plummet back to earth especially hard. His knees started bobbling.
Spencer leaned over. “With one exception, this room is not filled with sports superstars. You’re faster and better than a lot of these people. We’re from the same gene pool. Remember that.” Then he laughed at Elmer Fudd before he started bending and stretching and pumping himself up the way he did before any game.
“Numbers three, four, and five?”
Already? Cameron made his way toward the door.
“Cameron, Lauren, and Tyler, huh?” said Rena Jenkins. “Don’t worry. This is totally painless. Just have fun and follow all the instructions.”
“Aw,” said Hubert Plago, “who needs instructions?”
They each went out the door with a different Golly worker. Cameron’s person ushered him to the left and through the concession area, every step sounding like a slow-motion, amped-up thud.
They came through an entrance to the field. The sunshine nearly blinded him. Cameron blinked hard, then inched open his eyes, feeling for the first time how hot it was outside.
“Take a minute to adjust to the light,” the man said. “Meanwhile, hand me your gear bag. You’ll find it at the end.” He led Cameron down rows of bleachers and stopped before they reached a wall of towering blue curtains with a slit of an opening. “Beyond this is your obstacle course.”