But I had a date. No, we all had a date! To figure out how to fix a windmill.
“How many rounds?” The teen boy behind the counter asked. His smile grew as he looked around me. “Jacey? What’s up? Aren’t you out a little late for a bakery girl?”
“Hey, Jackson! These are my friends Arcade, Zoe, Derek, Celeste, and Doug. And Mom said I could sleep in tomorrow.”
“Okay, then. Playing some glow golf, huh? That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He turned to me. “How many rounds?”
“Uh, six.”
“That’ll be forty-eight dollars.” Jackson got out some scorecards while I tried to process that huge bill. “Uh . . .” I fished in my wallet for some money.
Thankfully, Celeste threw a fifty-dollar bill on the counter. “Mom said it’s on her tonight.”
Thank God for Aunt Weeda. We’ll have to make sure to get her money’s worth.
Jackson took the bill and made change, which he handed back to Celeste. “Golf balls and clubs are right behind you. Only five people on a hole at one time, so you’ll have to break up into two groups. Which course you playin’?”
“The windmill course,” I said.
“Broken-down old windmill course. Everyone’s favorite. You may have to wait a little.”
“That’s okay.” Jacey took in a deep breath. “It’s a nice night. We’ll enjoy looking at the lights.”
“Say hi to your brother for me, okay?
“Sure will. Hey, Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Does Mr. B ever go on vacation? Have a day off? He looks real tired lately. I’m worried about him.”
“Hmmm. Let me check the schedule.” Jackson poked some keys on a small laptop that sat on the kiosk. “Looks like he’s gonna be out next Tuesday through Friday. Don’t know why though. Want me to ask him?” He looked around, like he was going to bring Mr. B over here . . . where we were.
Nooooo!
“I don’t see him or his vehicle anywhere. I think he left for the night.”
Jacey smiled. “That’s okay. You don’t need to mention it. I’ll talk to him this weekend when I bring his bread.”
“You’re the best, Jacey!”
We collected our equipment and headed out to the first hole. Laser and black lights illuminated the place. Even the golf balls had lights in them. Mine was gold.
I gathered everyone in a huddle. “Here’s the plan. When it’s your turn, walk up to the windmill, like you’re planning your shot. Take some pictures and log notes in your phone, or just keep a mental list of the things we need to do to repair that windmill. And keep an eye out for video cameras.”
“I haven’t seen too many around here,” Zoe said.
“Okay, then, here we gooooooo!” I laughed, remembering the famous quote from my sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Dooley
We broke up into two groups. Celeste, Derek, and Doug went first. Zoe, Jacey, and I hung back.
“I gotta be your chaperone,” Zoe whispered, and she hit me in the ribs with her elbow.
I handed her my club. “I was thinking you would make the perfect caddy.”
When it was my turn, I walked up to the windmill and took pictures from every angle. The paint was chipped, and the wood definitely needed patching where it was laying in the creek. The sails looked okay—surprisingly—but there was no way to know if the spinning mechanism would work once we got it set up. What did Stephan call that? The sail frame?
“Hey! If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to need to play through,” a couple of college-aged boys called to me from the bench at hole one.
I picked up my ball. “All clear!” I trotted down the hill to where Zoe and Jacey were taking turns putting their balls into the hole.
“Let’s go cut in front of Celeste’s group. I want to get to hole seven.”
Zoe nodded. “Oh, yeah. Generosity. Can’t wait to see what that’s all about.”
“Hole seven?” Jacey looked intrigued. “The one with the little house with the treasure inside?”
“Treasure inside?”
“Follow me. I’ll show you.”
CHAPTER 23
Go Golf
We played holes two through six, to get our money’s worth. Celeste and Doug had a friendly competition going on. The one with the most strokes had to buy the other a slice of pizza. By the time they reached the green at hole six, Doug was losing by five strokes.
“Dude, the light inside this red ball is throwing me off. It’s blinding me so I can’t putt!”
“Would you like to trade colors?” Celeste handed Doug her purple golf ball.
“Yeah. I’m thinking purple is lucky.” He placed it on the green and proceeded to take five more putts to get it in.
“Okay, I’ll have my red one back.”
“Check this out.” Zoe opened her scorecard. “This golf course has rules! And it says you have to pick your ball up after six strokes.”
Doug took his pencil and started erasing. “Cool! That means I get to erase all my tens? Celeste, you’re going down!”
“There’s a lot of rules to mini-golf. Who knew? Hey—check this one out!” Zoe began to read from the card.
“Be careful and watch your step as you journey near windmills, through villages, over bridges, and around waterfalls.”
“Ooooh.” I pretended to shiver. “Thanks for the warning.” I set my gold golf ball down on the mat leading into hole seven. “Just what I thought, it’s a plain little village house. It could use a paint job too.” I hit the ball. It rolled right down the center of the mat and in through the door of the house. I held my club up in the air. “Oh, yeah! Right there, baby!”
Jacey took her turn after me, and her ball rolled into the house too. “There’s a window in the back. Jackson told my brother about it, and he showed me once. Come on.” I followed her down the path, around the house, and I shined my phone flashlight inside. Something rectangular and white sat on the ground inside the little house.
“It looks like some kind of fancy tray.”
“Exactly,” Jacey said. “It’s a marble serving tray. From India.”
“What’s it doing in there?”
Jacey shrugged. “I have no idea. Seems like a waste of something so beautiful.”
I pulled my head back, and the light on my phone fell on another gold plaque bolted to the back of the house. It said “Generosity.” At the bottom, just like on the windmill plaque, was printed Arcade Adventures.
“Where generosity goes, refreshment flows. Huh.”
“What?” Jacey bent down to check out the plaque too. “I’ve never noticed that before.” She ran her fingers over the words. “Generosity. I like it!”
Right then, the token began to pulse light.
Oh, no! This is NOT the time!
Heat built up so high in my shirt that I had to pull the token out so I wouldn’t get a blister. Jacey’s eyes grew wide as she fixed them on the token. “That’s cool! Did you get that here at the arcade?”
“Sort of. It’s a long, crazy story.”
“I like crazy stories.”
Gold glitter began to fall from the sky. The laser lights hit the thousands of golden flecks, sending multi-colored flashes in every direction.
Oh, you’re about to see crazy. Any second. I hope your mom won’t mind.
Next thing I knew, Zoe was by my side. “Remember me, your caddy? I’m going to make a suggestion, Mr. Pro Golfer. Choose UP or DOWN this time.”
“I’ll consider it.”
The elevator doors appeared, like they always did when the glitter fell. But this time, they were plain and attached to the back of the little house. Celeste, Doug, and Derek arrived, the pulsing light from my token and the golden coin slot flashing in their eyes.
“We doin’ this again?” Derek asked. “Awesome!”
“Doing what?” Jacey backed up and covered her mouth with her hands.
Zoe patted Jacey on the shoulder. “We never quite know for sure. Just stay close
. Things are about to get . . . unpredictable.”
I pulled the token off the chain and dropped it in the slot. The little run-down village house shined gold, and the doors opened.
“Should we check it out?” I stepped toward the open doors.
My friends all ran past me into the elevator! Jacey hesitated for a second.
“I . . . I . . . can’t,” she stammered as she slowly stepped backward. “My mom will be here at ten thirty to pick us up.”
“We should be back immediately,” Zoe said. “I know that doesn’t make sense . . .”
“I’ve been through this before—lots of times—and it’s always an exciting adventure. Come on, I’ll have you back in time.” I jumped into the elevator and waved Jacey in.
“Well . . .” Jacey looked around, and then back at me. “As long as I’m going with you . . .”
Zoe reached out and grabbed Jacey’s hand, pulling her in.
I crossed my arms, leaned against the wall of the elevator, and smiled. “I’m glad you decided to join us.”
“Me too.” Jacey grinned, but I could tell she was still a little nervous.
And then the doors closed.
“LEFT or RIGHT?”
It was still my voice, but now it was a DIFFERENT choice. And, as usual, only one button.
“OH, PLEASE!!!!” Zoe paced around, shaking her head. “I finally got him to agree to pick UP or DOWN!”
“Hey! I didn’t agree to anything, I just said I’d consider it.”
“Low was fun, Arcade,” Derek said. “How about high this time?”
“NOOOOOOO!” Doug whined. “And I wouldn’t suggest back, either.”
“Hmmmm.” Celeste had her hand on her chin. “Arcade, are you right- or left-handed?”
“I’m ambidextrous.”
“You are not!” Zoe threw her hands up. “Make a choice, Arcade. I know you won’t listen to me, so how about you go with your gut?”
Go with my gut? My gut is churning around and around.
I stepped forward and pressed the button. “Around!”
“Hold on, everyone!” Zoe shouted.
I immediately regretted that decision. The elevator became like a washing machine, turning around and around. Thankfully, it spun so fast, the force plastered us to the walls instead of shaking us around. It was only when it stopped that we thumped.
CHAPTER 24
Namaste
The doors open, and a crowd of people are there to greet us!
“Namaste!” they call to us, holding their palms together and smiling.
One of the women, dark-skinned and wrapped from head to toe in colorful fabric, steps forward. “I am Neena. Please, come.” She points down a dirt road. “We are about to begin, and we would like to greet you in our traditional way.”
We follow the friendly bunch into a simple meeting hall. Several rows of metal chairs are filled with people who are dressed in bright reds, oranges, yellows, and greens. A banner hangs on the front wall that says:
MID-INDIA YOUTH MISSION WELCOMES OUR GUESTS: ARCADE LIVINGSTON, ZOE LIVINGSTON, DEREK CLARK, CELESTE CLARK, DOUG BAKER, AND JACEY GREEN
Doug leans over and whispers through his smile, “Did you text them to let them know we were coming?”
“No, Doug! Only the token knows where we’re going.”
He nods. “Oh. So we’re in India?”
“That’s what the sign says. All the way around the other side of the earth.”
The woman guides us up to the front of the hall. “Come here, please. We have saved you seats.”
Sure enough, there are six seats. We walk up in a line and sit down.
The woman smiles at the crowd and talks in a different language. Zoe leans over. “That’s Hindi.”
“Come,” the woman points. “Stand in front.”
She is so happy and inviting, we don’t dare say no . . . or run out of the room. Instead, we go up, just as she suggests.
The woman talks some more in Hindi. I can only nod and smile. Then she turns to us and says, “Our friends have come all the way from Virginia to bring encouragement. Please welcome them.”
How does she know we’re from Virginia?
The audience claps. Then the whole back row of about fifteen men and women come toward us carrying necklaces made of orange and yellow marigolds. I’m thinking they will put only one on each of our necks. Instead, they pile on four or five! The last woman to place one around my neck points to my chain where the token hung before I placed it in the slot. She speaks in English with a heavy accent, “That is special to you.”
Yes, it is.
Then she puts her palms together and dips her chin. “Namaste.”
Zoe pokes me in the side. “That’s an Indian greeting. Do it back to her.”
I put my palms together. “Namaste.”
Neena guides us back to our chairs, and then speaks to the crowd in Hindi again. Everyone stands and begins singing! They read words off an overhead screen. The Hindi letters loop together in a way that looks more like art than writing.
We can’t read or speak anything, but everyone is clapping, and we know how to do that. It’s a joyful few minutes.
We take our seats, and Neena points for me to come up to the podium.
Oh, please, not me.
I put my thumb to my chest and she nods. “Yes. You. Arcade. Please come.”
“Oh, Lord . . . help him,” Zoe says as I pass by her.
Neena speaks to me quietly at the podium. “These people work for our mission organization. Their jobs are teaching children, caring for the sick, and visiting villages to find out where help is needed. It is difficult work.”
I scan the crowd. “Oh, wow. I like helping people too.”
“I know.” She speaks to the audience in Hindi and translates for me. “Arcade would now like to bring you a word of encouragement for your day.”
Gulp!
She looks at me. “Go ahead. I will translate.”
DOUBLE GULP!
The ten pounds of marigolds pull my shoulders toward the ground. My hands shake and my forehead begins to drip. It’s much hotter here than in Virginia!
“Ummmm . . .”
The woman says a few words in Hindi, and the people smile.
Thoughts swirl in my head.
You can do this, Arcade. You have people speaking encouragement to you all the time. Just say something!
I say a little prayer, and then I open my mouth. I have no idea what is going to come out.
“As you go out to help people today . . .”
Neena translates with a few long sentences.
“Remember to guard your heart. It determines the course of your life.”
Good one, Arcade. You can never go wrong with Proverbs.
The people nod and smile as Neena translates, which buys me time to think of what to say next. I shove my clammy hands into my pockets, and I feel it. The golden envelope with the clues.
Of course. The clues!
Neena finishes up her translation, and I continue. “Because the journey starts with a humble heart.” I glance over at Zoe, who looks like she’s sitting on pins and needles. “Putting others ahead of ourselves brings joy to everyone.”
Whoa! Where did that line come from? It’s an Arcade original!
Neena translates and the crowd leans forward.
Oh, boy, I think they want more!
Neena glances over at me. I guess they want more. I clear my throat.
“And where generosity goes, refreshment flows.”
That one takes Neena a long time to translate. Which is a good thing. Because it’s all I’ve got.
I put my palms together and dip my chin. “Thank you. Namaste.”
The people smile and clap. I can’t believe what I’ve just done. I look over at Zoe. Her chin is on the floor. I drag my marigold-draped self back to the chair and plunk down.
Whew!
Neena continues to talk with the crowd in Hindi. And then it appe
ars that she is leading them in a prayer. I bow my head and close my eyes.
Whatever they are asking for, please give it to them, Lord. They seem like such kind and giving people.
When Neena is done praying, she brings our whole group to the front of the stage, and EVERYONE in the room comes over to greet us again. Some shake our hands, some grab our shoulders and squeeze, some kiss us on the cheeks. That’s a lot of hospitality for people they don’t even know!
“Thank you . . . thank you . . . bless you . . . thank you . . .”
The greetings take longer than the whole meeting did.
“Man, they really like us!” Doug says. “No one ever treated me this nice before!”
I have to admit, I’m kind of overwhelmed with the greetings myself.
“Namaste . . . Namaste . . . Namaste . . .” My head is getting tired of bobbing up and down, and my neck is hot from the stack of marigold necklaces.
Finally, the last person departs, and I’m kind of sad. The room feels like all the joy got sucked out of it.
Neena approaches us, smiling. “Thank you for your encouraging words, Arcade. We would like to take you to visit a family that is suffering right now after the loss of their daughter.”
“Loss? What do you mean?”
“She was sick for most of her life. Last week she passed away.”
Zoe’s eyes fill with tears. “But do you think the family will want us there?”
“Oh, yes, they would love to have you come. They live just across the road. Please, follow me.”
We walk past a couple of modest buildings before passing some ladies who are hanging colorful clothes out to dry on a line. They smile and wave. We wave back. A thin cow wanders by. He’s followed by a chicken.
India is AMAZING!
We continue along the dusty road until we come to a white fence surrounding a little yard in front of a small house.
I turn to look at Zoe and neither of us have to say a thing.
It looks just like the house on hole seven of the windmill course!
I wish Neena wouldn’t walk so fast to the front door. My heart pounds.
Arcade and the Golden Travel Guide Page 9