Headache Read online

  “We smell REALLY bad,” Angela said.

  “I know. We have to do something about this,” Joe replied.

  A moment later Angela and Joe spotted a large gray cloth covering something in a driveway. They looked at each other. Without a word they knew what the other was thinking and moved slowly toward the driveway.

  Joe stood guard while Angela removed the cover and discovered a beautiful white car underneath. She hurriedly wiped herself down, being careful to use the outside of the cloth. She didn’t want to get anything on the spotless car. Joe went next, while Angela stood guard. He was just as careful. They put the cover neatly back on the car, then took a step back and examined their work. The cloth was no longer dull gray, but a kaleidoscope of colors.

  As they walked away from the scene, Angela moaned, “I am beyond hungry.”

  “I could use something to eat myself.”

  “If you want me to keep walking, we are going to have to find something to eat,” she told him.

  Finally There

  Crouching, Angela and Joe chowed down. They were in paradise. They had found a garden behind a fence in someone’s back yard. The fence was low enough to simply step right over. There was luscious lettuce and marvelous green beans. It was their version of the sweet shop delights. Eating all those vegetables was like eating cakes and pies to them. There were other vegetables too, but they decided to leave those alone. Angela and Joe didn’t want to take more than what was necessary to hold them over, until they could find some substantial food.

  After eating, they rested for a moment in the tranquil garden before deciding it was time to get going. Joe pulled out the map and realized it wasn’t too much further now.

  “Almost there?” Angela asked when she saw a relaxed smile on Joe’s face.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because the sun is starting to rise,” Angela remarked. At that moment, they heard a car start nearby. Joe and Angela remained very still until they heard it drive off.

  They traveled the rest of the way in total stealth mode, super-fast and sneaky. Within minutes they were at Peter’s house. It was at the corner of a cul-de-sac in a nice neighborhood. The lights were on. Someone was up.

  “What now?” Joe asked. “We can’t very well just go to the door, can we?”

  A moment of silence passed and the garage doors opened. Angela and Joe ducked behind a car parked on the side of the road. It was Peter’s dad leaving for work. He was tall, thin, dressed in a navy blue blazer with a crisp white collared shirt, and he carried a tan leather briefcase. He entered the SUV parked in the garage and drove off. The garage door shut. Joe and Angela ran over to a row of thick bushes against a fence in Peter’s yard and wedged themselves in. No one could see them there.

  A half hour later, Peter ran out the door. He headed to the car on the side of the road. His mother parked it there last night because Papa had parked crooked when he had taken him home the night before. His mother unlocked the doors from the driveway to let Peter in the car and she soon slid into the front driver seat.

  “Well, what do we do now?” Angela whispered.

  “I don’t know. It looks as though Peter is going to school. He may be a while,” Joe whispered back.

  “We can’t stay squished in these bushes all day,” Angela whined.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Joe asked.

  Angela peeked out from the bushes and scanned the area. “Let’s get in there.” She pointed toward an old boat at the side of the house. It looked as though it had been sitting there for quite some time. Joe agreed and they found their temporary new home in the dirty old boat. It was better than being squished up against the fence with branches in their ears and they could get some much-needed rest.

  Easy Breezy Ham and Cheesy

  “Peter is back,” Angela said several hours later, peering out of the boat.

  “Good. I was getting tired of playing thumb wars,” Joe said. “My thumbs are sore.”

  Peter got out of the car and handed Mrs. Fischer his backpack. She went in the house and Peter walked down the driveway toward the cul-de-sac.

  “Where is he going?” Angela gasped.

  Peter stepped onto the sidewalk. He veered left and opened the mailbox. He muttered to himself, “I can’t believe she doesn’t believe me. I am ten now. I have grown up a lot since last year.”

  He headed back toward the house and was glad that his best friend Lina was coming over for dinner. Then they will see, and then they will know I am telling the truth, he thought. His family had chalked up his adventure in Maple Town as a result of his overeating, which led to a wildly vivid dream. Peter knew the truth and so did Lina. It was not a dream.

  Peter heard his name as he approached the doorstep. It was a low call, a familiar voice. He walked toward the boat, where he found Joe and Angela hiding. Peter couldn’t believe it. They looked so relieved to see him.

  “What are you guys doing here? How did you get here?” Peter asked astounded, as he climbed in the boat. “And what are you wearing?”

  Angela and Joe told their story to Peter in a quick version. They knew Peter’s mother was inside and didn’t want her to come outside and cause a scene if she saw them.

  “We need to get you guys inside,” Peter said anxiously. “Now my mom will see that Candonites are real!”

  “Are you sure that is a good idea, Peter?” Angela questioned.

  “You two can’t stay out here forever and besides you have less of a chance of being seen if you are actually indoors. Also, you should get cleaned up. You smell awful!” Peter said. Peter understood that it was possible that other people might overreact in fear if they saw the Candonite children, perhaps take them to jail or worse, to a laboratory in some creepy secret underground hideout.

  “My mom is really great,” Peter said, trying to ease his friends’ fears as he climbed out of the boat. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear and gestured for Angela and Joe to follow.

  Inside they found Peter’s mother in the kitchen making Peter a snack. She was pouring milk into a glass and turned when she heard Peter. She had cookies on a plate in her other hand. Peter tossed the mail on the counter, took the cookies from his mom, and swiftly threw them into a drawer. He knew it wouldn’t be good if Joe and Angela saw him eating them.

  “If you don’t want cookies, Peter, just say so! I could have saved those for your dad!” she said, setting the glass of milk on the counter.

  “Mom, it’s not that. I have guests,” he said.

  “I could always make more,” she said, turning toward the pantry door. “Who are your guests? Is Lina here early?”

  “No mom, it isn’t Lina. And please don’t make any more cookies!” Peter said.

  Peter’s mom turned from the pantry door to face Peter. Then she saw the Candonite children walk into the room. She took a step back and gasped.

  Peter smiled softly. “Mom, I would like you to meet my new friends, Joe and Angela.”

  Peter’s mom said nothing. She didn’t even blink.

  “Mom!” Peter said. “Mom!” He repeated, a little louder.

  She spoke abruptly and startled the children. “Yes?”

  “Are you all right?” Peter asked.

  “I will be in a moment,” his mother said as her face softened and her body relaxed. “Excuse me. Where are my manners? Nice to meet you!” she said, walking over to the Candonites. “Peter told me you were real, but I didn’t believe him.” She examined them in amazement.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fischer,” Angela and Joe said.

  “This is amazing! Peter, I am sorry I didn’t believe you,” his mom said, pulling him close to her side for a squeeze. “I will never doubt you again.”

  “It’s okay, Mom.” Peter squeezed her back.

  “Well, I know Peter is hungry. Would you two like a snack? I could make ham and cheese crackers,” Peter’s mom said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Angela and Joe replied. They were very hungry
. They hadn’t eaten since the garden.

  “Would you mind if we took a few moments to clean up?” Angela asked.

  “Oh my, you do need some cleaning up, don’t you?” Peter’s mother said as she led them to the bathroom.

  Peter poured the milk and his mother made the snack. Peter wasn’t surprised at how easygoing his mom was being. She always handled everything with ease. His father often told the story of when she was in labor with Peter. Instead of going to the hospital right away to give birth, she did her hair and makeup, washed a load of laundry, and cooked dinner. He said he practically picked her up and took her to the hospital where Peter was born two hours later.

  Peter’s mother went around the house nonchalantly closing all the blinds. When she returned, they all sat at the kitchen table eating and talking. The Candonite children expressed how they were afraid because they didn’t know how to get home. Even worse, they didn’t know how other humans might react. Mrs. Fischer told Angela and Joe not to worry. When her husband got home, they would figure out how to get them back to Maple Town.

  “Your dad will be home in an hour, Peter. I should call him and give him a heads-up,” his mom said, moving toward the phone.

  “Hi honey,” she said when she reached Peter’s father. “I wanted to let you know we will be having a couple more guests for dinner tonight. Peter’s Candonite friends, Angela and Joe….No, this isn’t a joke! I am serious! I haven’t lost my mind….I love you, see you soon.”

  “Does Dad believe you, Mom?” Peter asked anxiously.

  “He will when he sees Joe and Angela. I better get dinner started.” She winked.

  Breaking the News

  Peter, Angela, and Joe were in the kitchen helping Peter’s mom when Peter’s dad came home. He hung up his blazer, placed his keys in the drawer by the front door, and let out a big sigh like he always did when he came home at the end of a workday. Peter’s body tensed and a sense of nervous excitement rushed over him. What will Dad do? They could hear Mr. Fischer’s footsteps on the wooden floor as he headed toward the kitchen.

  Peter’s dad started talking before he even entered the room. “Now, what is all this nonsense?” As he entered the kitchen, his expression was almost identical to what Peter’s mother’s looked like earlier when she had come face-to-face with the Candonite children.

  It took Peter’s dad a bit longer to comprehend that Candonite children were actually standing in his kitchen than it had for Peter’s mother. Peter’s dad had to sit and put his head down on the table between his hands, peeking up over his glasses every once in a while. He even took off his glasses once and wiped them clean just in case he might be seeing things. He obviously wasn’t.

  Peter’s mom gave his dad a glass of water and told the children, “Kids, give me a few moments with my husband before Lina gets here for dinner.”

  The children did as they were told. Peter couldn’t wait until his friend got there. He had tried calling her earlier, but there was no answer. He knew she would love to hear the news. Lina had been with Peter in Maple Town during his adventures. Now there was proof for others to see that their story was real and not the product of overactive imaginations.

  After some time, Peter’s mother called for him to set the table. Everything must be fine, he thought. Joe and Angela sat side-by-side across from Peter. Peter’s mother and his father sat across from one another. Every once in a while Peter’s dad would say something like, “This is weird. I must be dreaming. You do smell very nice.”

  There was a knock at the door. Peter ran to open it. Lina and her little brother Henry stood in the doorway. Lina once said that Henry was the sort of little brother you wanted to sell in a yard sale for twenty-five cents and at the end of the day, if no one bought him, mark him down and put him in the free box next to the orphaned socks and the holey underwear.

  “Peter, your mom said it was all right if I brought Henry over whenever I wanted. Well, I didn’t want to, but he kept begging.” She handed him a plastic container. “Here, my mom made lumpia. You better take it before Henry eats it all.”

  “Lumpia?”

  “Yes, sorta like Filipino egg rolls,” Lina said.

  “I want to hear more about the Candy people,” Henry blurted out.

  Lina shrugged. “Henry is the only one who believes me about our adventure.”

  Peter couldn’t contain himself. He tugged at Lina. “They are here!”

  “Who?”

  “Angela and Joe!” Peter answered, excited.

  “Quit joking, Peter. I am hungry. I am not in the mood for jokes,” Lina said.

  “I’m not joking. Really, they are here, in the kitchen. Come on!” he said as he closed the door behind them and shoved them toward the kitchen.

  Lina wasn’t sure what to think. Two days ago, if someone had told her that Candonite people were in Peter’s kitchen, she would have thought they were loony. After being to Maple Town, nothing seemed impossible now. She sniffed the air and a smile illuminated her face.

  Once all of them were inside the kitchen, Peter thought Henry was never going to stop jabbering at the Candonites. “Can I touch you? Do you come in different flavors? How can you live without eating sweets?”

  Everyone had come to the conclusion that they should keep the Candonites’ being in town hush-hush. No need to stir up anyone. No need to cause any alarm to people who might not understand. Of course, Peter and Lina knew this might be a bit hard for Henry. Lina made him promise not to tell anyone about Angela and Joe, at least until the Candonite children were safely home, or else she wouldn’t tell him stories about her trip to Maple Town anymore.

  After dinner, to give Joe and Angela a minute of peace from her nagging little brother, Lina told Henry to go and watch some TV. He was reluctant at first, but Lina told him she was sure a cartoon movie he wanted to watch was on. Henry got up from his chair and went to the family room.

  A little while later, Henry shouted, “This TV is broken. The same thing is on every channel!”

  “I better go help him before he comes back in here and bugs you guys again,” Lina said, heading to the family room. Peter followed to see what Henry was talking about.

  Peter and Lina couldn’t believe what they were seeing on the TV. At the bottom of the screen in flashing red letters outlined in white were the words “BREAKING NEWS!” A newscaster was yelling into his microphone that it was the first time in his career he had seen anything like this. He seemed very nervous, looking over his shoulder constantly.

  He continued, “No one has been hurt. Earlier today, eyewitnesses stated seeing massively large beings that appeared to be made of pebbles or rocks. They seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Witnesses report seeing some kind of box. If I heard correctly, the pebbled people shot out of the box and landed at the intersection of Harrison and Bernard Street, leaving a giant crater in the road. No one seems to know why they are here or what they want. Where they are at the present time is not clear. In a moment, I am going to talk to eyewitnesses who got a closer look.”

  The camera panned to a young couple holding hands tightly and an older gentleman dressed in a suit and tie. They looked extremely anxious. “One eyewitness, Horace Bloomfield, said he witnessed the pebbled people apprehend police officers at the Community Police Officer of the Year Awards ceremony,” said the newscaster, nearly sticking his microphone up Horace’s nose. “Tell our viewers all about it, Horace.”

  Horace began, “I believe every cop in town has been detained by those horrible creatures. The pebbled people are very strong and I saw one break down a door with a single blow. They’re big, really big. Bigger than any human being I have encountered. I’d say the shortest were probably seven feet. The one who seemed to be in command was easily nine feet.” The cameraman left Horace’s face and panned over his shoulder quickly. The lens was moving too fast to see anything, but they could hear shrieks. Then the cameraman panned back to where Horace was giving his interview.

  Peter’s a
nd Lina’s hearts skipped a beat as they stared at Goaltan himself, who was now holding the microphone. Those were dark eyes they never had wanted to look into again.

  “I don’t want to watch this. I want to watch my cartoon,” Henry whined.

  “Be quiet, Henry. Not now!” Lina scolded.

  By now the others had come into the family room. Everyone gasped. Henry turned his attention to Peter’s comic books on the coffee table and quickly tuned out everything else.

  Peter and everyone else came to the conclusion that Goaltan and the Peblars had somehow come to their town. But how?

  Suddenly the cameraman dropped the camera and said, “I don’t get paid enough for this. I am out of here!”

  Long pebbled fingers came across the screen. The camera was turned upright and fixed back on Goaltan, the fingers moving away from the screen.

  Goaltan spoke. “Boy, I know you are out there somewhere and I know you have something to do with my standing here right now. Part of me wants to thank you for freeing me from my foul lair, the other part of me wants to pulverize you. Since I am not much of the thanking type, I choose to find you and make you pay for saving your two little Candonite friends and bringing me here to this world. Here is the deal: I will destroy every pie, every cupcake, every lollipop, and everything else you consider a sweet treat until none exist! I will destroy every store, every restaurant, every coffee shop, every bakery, every place that carries even a morsel of what you consider tasty delicacies until you show me your face. Don’t even think about leaving town. I have that covered. All three exits out of town are blocked. There is no way in or out. I will start in the morning at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Every hour on the hour after that—well, you will see!” Goaltan paused to let out a ferocious roar. “Meet me right here. Oh, and bring the human girl!”

  The television went black.

  Everyone in the room let out another gasp.

  Peter looked at the others and said with concern, “What about Papa’s Sweet Shop?”