The Candy Shop War
Page 23
“You can go high but you’re not very fast,” the man threatened. Nate heard the fence rattle as the man reached it, heard the man crunch onto the wood chips on the far side.
The backyard was fairly large, with a swimming pool shaped like a peanut. Nate was about to land on the lawn. He could hear the man in the overcoat gaining, heavy footfalls on the grass. The house was too far away for Nate to vault onto the roof in a single leap. But there was a shed on the far side of the pool that might be reachable, and the water would serve as an obstacle for his pursuer.
When Nate landed, he turned and sprang toward the shed. As he soared over the pool, a light on the back of the house switched on, flooding the yard with white radiance. Nate realized he did not have quite enough distance to reach the shed—instead he was going to land on the patio between the shed and the pool. At least he would comfortably clear the water.
The man was sprinting around the pool, but Nate could tell he would land on the patio with enough time to jump again. Nate thought he could make it up to the roof of the house with his next leap.
The man slowed as he stooped to grab something. Nate hit the patio and bounded toward the house with everything he had. At the crest of his jump, Nate judged that he was going to barely clear the gutter. His next leap would be a light skip to the top of the roof.
Nate could hear the man running directly beneath him. As he was about to land a few feet beyond the edge of the roof, something whacked into his side and thrust him brusquely down to the lawn. It took Nate a moment to realize that the man had swatted him out of the air using a long pool skimmer.
The man in the overcoat seized Nate by the front of his shirt before he could try to escape, and effortlessly lifted him into the air. “You don’t weigh any more than a piñata,” the man said.
“Let me go,” Nate said.
“Not until you answer some questions,” the man said. “What are you sucking on?”
“The people who live here are already calling the cops,” Nate said, nodding toward the house.
“That was a motion-activated light,” the man assured him. “The people living here are sound asleep.”
“I’ll scream,” Nate warned.
The man instantly clapped a hard hand over his mouth and nose. The large palm smelled faintly of cologne. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Let’s try to keep this friendly.”
Nate gave a curt nod. The man removed his hand. “Tell me how you and your pal manage to defy gravity,” the man demanded.
The man was holding Nate high, so he had a good view of Trevor dashing toward them across the lawn. His friend obviously no longer had a Moon Rock in his mouth. “Well, if you really want to know,” Nate said, talking loudly to cover the sound of Trevor’s approach, “I’m one of the Lost Boys, and Peter Pan wanted us to get in some practice—”
At the last instant, the man sensed Trevor approaching and turned, but he was too late. Trevor extended a hand and touched the man on the chest, and with a burst of light the man was flung across the lawn.
Nate suffered the electric jolt as well, muscles clenching involuntarily, but while the man went cartwheeling across the lawn, Nate took off like a rocket. Recovering from the painful shock, Nate watched in horror as he rose higher and higher, body lazily rotating, first facing the ground, then the stars, then the ground, then the stars. Swinging his arms and twisting, Nate managed to minimize the rotation. Looking down on the post office, then on Main Street, he felt like a slow-motion version of a football during a kickoff. As he curved back toward the earth, Nate realized he was going to land on the roof of a building across the street from the post office. Even though the flight was much slower than it would normally have been, by the time the roof drew near, he had picked up alarming speed.
Limbs flailing, Nate failed to adjust his position for
the impending impact, and he flopped jarringly against the shingles, bouncing high and twirling wildly. He caromed against the roof a second time and, after a disorienting spin through space, finally crashed down into the bushes behind the building.
Spitting out the Moon Rock, Nate sat up, dizzy and relieved to be alive. Although jostled and sore, he felt no sharp pain—no bones seemed to be broken. He considered going back to make sure Trevor was all right, but discarded the idea. Trevor had shocked the man and then surely had gotten away. If Nate went back, he would just be giving the tenacious stranger in the overcoat another opportunity to catch him.
Nate got unsteadily to his feet. Keeping his Shock Bits handy, he hurried out the back of the parking lot, avoiding Main Street, and started making his way home.
Chapter Six
Trick Candy
Only a tiny chip of his last Moon Rock was left, and Trevor flicked it around his mouth with his tongue. The candy was now so fragile that biting it was very tempting.
Trevor crouched atop the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. After shocking the man in the overcoat and sending poor Nate rocketing off into the sky, Trevor had waited to use his final Moon Rock. He had hopped the fence to the front of the house and turned down a couple of streets, winding deeper into the quiet neighborhood and farther from Main. Finding a bushy hedge with a hollow underneath, Trevor got down on his belly, wormed into the darkness, and waited.
It had not been long before the man in the overcoat came running by. He jogged halfway down the street and then doubled back, scanning the surrounding yards and rooftops, occasionally turning on his powerful flashlight to brighten a dim recess. The man had not looked closely at the hedge.
To force himself to wait, Trevor had counted slowly to three hundred after the man moved out of sight. He had not wanted to leave his hiding place prematurely and get apprehended.
When he finally did emerge from the hedge, he had become nervous walking along the sidewalks, knowing that at any moment he might happen into the man in the overcoat. So he had used his final Moon Rock and made his way home leaping through yards, over fences, and across rooftops. Aside from a few dogs barking at him, the trip from the neighborhood to the candy shop roof had been uneventful.
Confident that he had truly ditched the man in the overcoat, and with the candy in his mouth dwindling, Trevor sprang from the roof of the candy shop, glided over Greenway, and landed on the opposite sidewalk.
After taking an accidental fifteen-foot hop upon landing, Trevor spat out the thin remnant of the Moon Rock. The waning sliver of candy was now so delicate that the urge to finish it off with a bite was almost irresistible. Perhaps biting the candy when it had almost dissolved would be no big deal—Mrs. White had never spelled out the specific consequences of chewing a Moon Rock. But Trevor certainly did not want to find out the hard way.
The backyard was fairly large, with a swimming pool shaped like a peanut. Nate was about to land on the lawn. He could hear the man in the overcoat gaining, heavy footfalls on the grass. The house was too far away for Nate to vault onto the roof in a single leap. But there was a shed on the far side of the pool that might be reachable, and the water would serve as an obstacle for his pursuer.
When Nate landed, he turned and sprang toward the shed. As he soared over the pool, a light on the back of the house switched on, flooding the yard with white radiance. Nate realized he did not have quite enough distance to reach the shed—instead he was going to land on the patio between the shed and the pool. At least he would comfortably clear the water.
The man was sprinting around the pool, but Nate could tell he would land on the patio with enough time to jump again. Nate thought he could make it up to the roof of the house with his next leap.
The man slowed as he stooped to grab something. Nate hit the patio and bounded toward the house with everything he had. At the crest of his jump, Nate judged that he was going to barely clear the gutter. His next leap would be a light skip to the top of the roof.
Nate could hear the man running directly beneath him. As he was about to land a few feet beyond the edge of the roof, something whacked into his side and thrust him brusquely down to the lawn. It took Nate a moment to realize that the man had swatted him out of the air using a long pool skimmer.
The man in the overcoat seized Nate by the front of his shirt before he could try to escape, and effortlessly lifted him into the air. “You don’t weigh any more than a piñata,” the man said.
“Let me go,” Nate said.
“Not until you answer some questions,” the man said. “What are you sucking on?”
“The people who live here are already calling the cops,” Nate said, nodding toward the house.
“That was a motion-activated light,” the man assured him. “The people living here are sound asleep.”
“I’ll scream,” Nate warned.
The man instantly clapped a hard hand over his mouth and nose. The large palm smelled faintly of cologne. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Let’s try to keep this friendly.”
Nate gave a curt nod. The man removed his hand. “Tell me how you and your pal manage to defy gravity,” the man demanded.
The man was holding Nate high, so he had a good view of Trevor dashing toward them across the lawn. His friend obviously no longer had a Moon Rock in his mouth. “Well, if you really want to know,” Nate said, talking loudly to cover the sound of Trevor’s approach, “I’m one of the Lost Boys, and Peter Pan wanted us to get in some practice—”
At the last instant, the man sensed Trevor approaching and turned, but he was too late. Trevor extended a hand and touched the man on the chest, and with a burst of light the man was flung across the lawn.
Nate suffered the electric jolt as well, muscles clenching involuntarily, but while the man went cartwheeling across the lawn, Nate took off like a rocket. Recovering from the painful shock, Nate watched in horror as he rose higher and higher, body lazily rotating, first facing the ground, then the stars, then the ground, then the stars. Swinging his arms and twisting, Nate managed to minimize the rotation. Looking down on the post office, then on Main Street, he felt like a slow-motion version of a football during a kickoff. As he curved back toward the earth, Nate realized he was going to land on the roof of a building across the street from the post office. Even though the flight was much slower than it would normally have been, by the time the roof drew near, he had picked up alarming speed.
Limbs flailing, Nate failed to adjust his position for
the impending impact, and he flopped jarringly against the shingles, bouncing high and twirling wildly. He caromed against the roof a second time and, after a disorienting spin through space, finally crashed down into the bushes behind the building.
Spitting out the Moon Rock, Nate sat up, dizzy and relieved to be alive. Although jostled and sore, he felt no sharp pain—no bones seemed to be broken. He considered going back to make sure Trevor was all right, but discarded the idea. Trevor had shocked the man and then surely had gotten away. If Nate went back, he would just be giving the tenacious stranger in the overcoat another opportunity to catch him.
Nate got unsteadily to his feet. Keeping his Shock Bits handy, he hurried out the back of the parking lot, avoiding Main Street, and started making his way home.
Chapter Six
Trick Candy
Only a tiny chip of his last Moon Rock was left, and Trevor flicked it around his mouth with his tongue. The candy was now so fragile that biting it was very tempting.
Trevor crouched atop the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. After shocking the man in the overcoat and sending poor Nate rocketing off into the sky, Trevor had waited to use his final Moon Rock. He had hopped the fence to the front of the house and turned down a couple of streets, winding deeper into the quiet neighborhood and farther from Main. Finding a bushy hedge with a hollow underneath, Trevor got down on his belly, wormed into the darkness, and waited.
It had not been long before the man in the overcoat came running by. He jogged halfway down the street and then doubled back, scanning the surrounding yards and rooftops, occasionally turning on his powerful flashlight to brighten a dim recess. The man had not looked closely at the hedge.
To force himself to wait, Trevor had counted slowly to three hundred after the man moved out of sight. He had not wanted to leave his hiding place prematurely and get apprehended.
When he finally did emerge from the hedge, he had become nervous walking along the sidewalks, knowing that at any moment he might happen into the man in the overcoat. So he had used his final Moon Rock and made his way home leaping through yards, over fences, and across rooftops. Aside from a few dogs barking at him, the trip from the neighborhood to the candy shop roof had been uneventful.
Confident that he had truly ditched the man in the overcoat, and with the candy in his mouth dwindling, Trevor sprang from the roof of the candy shop, glided over Greenway, and landed on the opposite sidewalk.
After taking an accidental fifteen-foot hop upon landing, Trevor spat out the thin remnant of the Moon Rock. The waning sliver of candy was now so delicate that the urge to finish it off with a bite was almost irresistible. Perhaps biting the candy when it had almost dissolved would be no big deal—Mrs. White had never spelled out the specific consequences of chewing a Moon Rock. But Trevor certainly did not want to find out the hard way.
