New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers) (7 page)

Chunky Guy rolled his eyes. “She is not capable of answering us.”

“Oh, right,” Tall Dude said. “I knew that.” He turned to TJ. “Okay, then, blink once for yes and twice for no.”

TJ tried to nod, but without a head, nodding can also be a little difficult. So, concentrating with all her might,

she imagined turning on her lightbulb. And sure enough, after a few more
grrrr
s,
errrr
s, and
arrrr
s, it came on! But only for a second before it went off.

“Great.” Chunky Guy smiled.

TJ was so impressed with herself that she did it again.

“That’s two times,” Tall Dude said. “So you
are
going to scream?”

No, no, no
, TJ thought. She blinked the light a third time. Then a fourth.

“What’s she doing?” Tall Dude asked.

“As you may recall, the history holographs say her math skills are somewhat limited.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Let us proceed to the room,” Chunky Guy said. “Perhaps if we sit down and explain everything, she will cooperate.”

Tall Dude nodded and walked toward her.

Of course TJ blinked again and again, hoping Dad or Violet or little Dorie would hear—er, see her. Unfortunately, no one did. No one except the two aliens who she was about to discover weren’t really aliens at all.

CHAPTER FOUR

Blink, Blink, Blink,
Blink, Blink, Blink,
Blink, Blink

Time Travel Log:

Malibu, California, October 10—supplemental

Begin Transmission:

Cloaking device has failed. Subject sees and hears us. Must now brief her on project . . . while trying not to flush her next-door neighbor down the toilet.

End Transmission

Tall Dude picked TJ up and carried her into her room, where she listened carefully. Well, as carefully as a floor lamp with fancy trim around the shade can listen.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” Chunky Guy said. “My name is Thomas Uriah Norman Alphonso . . . the third.”

“We call him Tuna, for short,” Tall Dude said as he pushed the floating egg through the doorway and into the room.

Tuna nodded toward Tall Dude. “And we call him Herby, which, unfortunately, is short for—”

“Herby,” Herby said, flipping his blond bangs out of his eyes.

TJ blinked her light off and on.

“What’s she saying?” Herby asked.

“Do I look like I speak lamp-ese?” Tuna said.

“Hang on, Your Dude-ness,” Herby said. “Let me get out the translator.”

Once again he pulled out his Swiss Army Knife and opened another blade. And once again he fumbled it, dropping it to the floor. Only this time, instead of people turning into presidents or famous rock-and-roll bands, TJ heard:

“Hm, this is interesting; can I eat it? Hm, a nice shiny blade; can I eat it? Hm, a nice red handle; can I eat it? Hm, a nice—”

Then she saw the cockroach scurrying up and over the knife.

Great!
she thought.
Not only is my place infested by space aliens, I’ve got cockroaches, too!

“Zweegs,” Tuna cringed.

“Zweegs to the max,” Herby agreed. He raised his foot over the insect as the translator continued to translate:

“Hm, a nice foot up there; can I eat it? Hm, a nice shoe coming down toward me; can I eat it? Hm, a nice—”

Zweegs
.

Tuna and Herby both shuddered.

Blink-blink, blink-blink
, TJ blinked.

“All right.” Herby, the surfer dude, turned to TJ. “I’m not sure why you can see us. I’m guessing my partner here hasn’t totally fixed the cloaking device.”

“Or,” Tuna argued, “
my
partner doesn’t know the first thing about using it.”

“I’d know how to use it if you knew how to fix it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

TJ looked on in amazement. It was hard knowing which boy had fewer brain cells. But since you can’t get much lower than one, she figured it was a tie. To get their attention, she started

again.

Tuna was the first to spot her. Straightening his suit, he cleared his throat and started over. “First of all, despite our appearance, we are not spacemen.”

“Or bodybuilders,” Herby said, sucking in his stomach and sticking out his chest, “which some folks mistake us for.”

Tuna gave him a look, then continued. “Actually, we are time travelers.”

“From the 23rd century,” Herby added.

“And we have traveled back through time to observe you for our history project.”

Blink-blink?
TJ blinked.

“That’s right.” Herby nodded. “
You
. And not just ’cause we think you’re, like, a major babe. OWW!”

(The “OWW!” came after Tuna stomped on his foot.)

As Herby was busy hopping up and down on one foot, Tuna calmly continued. “We have returned to your time because when you grow up, you will become a great world leader. In fact, one day you will—”

“TJ?” Dad suddenly called from downstairs. “You’ve got company.”

TJ
blink-blink
ed in concern.

“What do we do?” Herby cried.

“How should I know?”

“Hey, dude, you got us into this quod-quod!”

“Why must you always blame me?”

“Because you’re always wrong.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am—”

“TJ?” Dad called from the bottom of the stairs.

TJ
blink-blink, blink-blink
ed faster.

Tuna frowned. “Permit me a moment to think.”

“TJ?!”

But Herby had no time for moments (or thinking). He took a deep breath and gave the world’s second-worst imitation of TJ. (The first was back on page 43). “Send him on up, Poppsy.”

“Send him on up?” Tuna cried. “Are you toyped?!”

“It’s better than us going down there,” Herby said.

“It is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

By now TJ was blinking faster than a strobe light after too much sugar and way too many cups of coffee.

Then they all heard the dreaded

The boys froze. So did TJ—though she didn’t have much choice, being a floor lamp.

“Who is it?” Herby asked in his high, TJ voice.

“It’s Chad, from next door. Are you all right?”

“Oh no,” Tuna groaned.

“Way oh no,” Herby moaned.

Blink-blink-blink-blink-blink-blink-blink-blink-blink
, TJ blinked.

“Open the knife,” Tuna said as he headed for the door. “Let us Freeze-Frame him.”

“Got it,” Herby said as he scooped up the knife and followed his partner.

Tuna opened the bedroom door, and there stood Chad in all of his wonderful . . . Chadness.

“Uh, you’re not TJ,” he said.

“No, I am,” Herby said in his TJ voice.

Chad looked over to Herby and scowled. The voice may have been TJ’s, but the body sure wasn’t.

“Now!” Tuna shouted.

Herby opened the blade, and

Chad was morphed into a goldfish.

“You morphed him?” Tuna yelled. “You were supposed to Freeze Frame him!”

“The blades are all mixed up!” Herby cried.

Both boys (and the floor lamp) looked down at the goldfish flopping on the floor.

“What do we do now?” Herby shouted.

“Place him in water before he dies,” Tuna yelled.

“Right!” Herby dropped to his knees and tried to scoop Chad up into his hands. But the little guy was like a greased pig wearing a banana-peel suit covered in ice.

Translation
: He was slippery.

TJ watched in horror as her next-door neighbor slipped out of Herby’s hands, once, twice, three times, before Herby finally caught the little fellow and rose to his feet.

Herby turned to her. “A glass of water? Do you have a glass of water?”

Blink-blink-blink-blink
.