Mr. Chickee's Messy Mission (11 page)

Ms. Tiptip said, “Ah, my dear, if only it were that simple.”

Mr. Chickee said, “Unfortunately, we're not exactly certain where the last prophecy is. We do know that whoever the new Old Soul is, they'll have to complete a series of missions before the prophecy is revealed. All three of you
shall be tested, and only one of you shall be the one. We won't know which of you is the Old Soul until you've returned from your missions.”

Ms. Tiptip said, “That's not to say you're being forced to do this. The mission may be especially messy for one of you. So there's no reason you can't return to the porch, say the bow-yippee chant and go back to Flint right this minute. We want to be sure you realize you're under no obligation to help us.”

Mr. Chickee said, “Which is why we want you to decide what you'll do. If any of you wants to leave, we'll understand, we'll hope whoever is left is the Old Soul. But we must tell you, if you do choose to stay, the missions will probably be very dangerous.”

Richelle said, “Excuse me, Ms. Tiptip and Mr. Chickee, these boys and I need to have a meeting. This shouldn't take very long.”

The adults walked a few feet away.

“I hereby call this special meeting of the Flint Future Detectives to order. As president, I move that we do everything we can to help Ourside, as long as it takes less than”—she looked at the countdown watch—“than twenty-nine days, twenty-three hours, thirty-one minutes and eighteen seconds.”

Russell and Steven both said, “I second that emotion.”

Richelle rolled her eyes.

They walked over to where Mr. Chickee and Ms. Tiptip were standing.

Richelle said, “We have a few questions. First, is it possible that we can have this done before the time on the Oops-a-Daisy runs out?”

Ms. Tiptip said, “I suppose anything is possible.”

Russell said, “Now, when you say what we're gonna have to do is dangerous, is that
dangerous
with a capital
D
or a little
d
?”

Mr. Chickee said, “That all depends on the paths you take. Some paths have a danger rating of one and others have a danger rating of ten.”

Russ asked, “What do those numbers mean?”

Ms. Tiptip said, “A danger rating of one is the amount of danger you'd be in if a raindrop fell on your head. A danger rating of ten is the trouble you'd be in if a ten-story building crashed into your forehead.”

Richelle looked at Steven and Russell.

Russell looked at Richelle and Steven.

Steven forgot and looked at Russell and Richelle.

He found himself singing, “I'd go anywhere, for you, dear, anywhere, for you, dear, anywhere for you!”

Both Richelle and Russell balled their right fists.

Steven quickly looked away.

Richelle said, “It's unanimous, Ms. Tiptip and Mr. Chickee, the Flint Future Detectives are here to do anything we can.”

Mr. Chickee smiled and said, “Was there ever any doubt?”

He handed Russell and Steven their own Oops-a-Daisies.

Richelle said, “Okay, what exactly do we have to do?”

Ms. Tiptip clapped twice and a large map appeared on the Holo-Vision. She said, “We believe your first mission involves finding the one you call Rodney Rodent. We're here now.” She pointed at a spot on the map with her staff.

“And one of you needs to decide where you'll go next. In certain areas I will serve as your guide, in others we shall hire someone else to lead you.”

Russell pointed at a place where a door with two knobs was drawn.

“Here,” he said, “I got a funny feeling in my gut that this is where we need to go.”

Mr. Chickee and Ms. Tiptip gasped.

She said, “Oh, dear. Well, I'm afraid that's one of the areas that neither I nor Othello can travel in. What we'll do is show you how to get to a place where you can hire a guide who will take you there. The only thing I can tell you is do not pay the guide until you return safely from your journey.”

Richelle said, “Won't all of this take too much time?” She tapped her Oops-a-Daisy. “I know a month seems long, but I've got a feeling these missions are going to take a lot longer down here than we think. Why do we need to hire a guide? Wouldn't it be quicker if we followed a map?”

Mr. Chickee said, “I'm afraid not, there are too many pitfalls and dangers involved in traveling in that area without a person who knows the way. Don't worry, though, the guides are a noble profession and are almost always wonderful people.”

No one seemed to notice that Mr. Chickee had said
“
almost always
wonderful people.” I don't know about you, but I smell a rat.

He finished, “But you are right, Richelle, the sooner you get started the better. There might be complications along the way.”

He wrote a set of numbers and dots on a piece of paper. “When you get to Guide Land, tell them this is where you need to go. Do you have any questions?”

Russell said, “What do they eat in Guide Land?”

Steven said, “Was that little holo-man serious about getting even with me?”

Richelle said, “Where is it exactly that this guide is going to lead us?”

Russell said, “What's a pitfall, is it sort of like a giant spitball?”

Steven said, “How mean is that holo-man for real?”

Richelle said, “Who'll tell us which is the Old Soul?”

Between all the whos and whys and whats and wheres and whens and hows, Mr. Chickee and Ms. Tiptip were swamped.

Finally she banged her walking staff on the ground and said, “Enough! I know this is overwhelming, but you do need to get started. We'll take you to another porch and you can enter Guide Land. As for your other questions, your dictionary has been downloaded with all the information you'll need. Just ask and it will help. But quickly, we must get you started.”

She walked toward another porch, climbed the stairs
and said, “Here. Enter and begin your first mission. We'll be waiting.”

Russell said, “Can't you come with us, Mr. Chickee?”

“No, Russell. You have to do this on your own. Besides, the land where you've chosen to go has a lot to do with Yourside. When I go there, I am sightless again. Please hurry, time is running out.”

Russell, Richelle and Steven followed Ms. Tiptip onto the porch.

Steven said, “How do we get in? Do we have to say bowwow …”

Ms. Tiptip said, “No, you just turn the knob and go on in.”

Russell said, “But where do we go when we get in there?”

“Russell,” Mr. Chickee said, “just like you had a feeling you were supposed to go to this particular area, you have to trust your feelings once you're inside, you have to follow your instincts.”

Russell said, “Seems like it would be a lot easier if we had to follow a yellow brick road or something.”

Richelle tapped her Oops-a-Daisy again, turned the doorknob and said, “Okay, Flint Future Detectives, time's a-wasting, let's go!”

They had started to walk into the door when Steven heard Horton Flum-Flub Holo-Explainer's voice in his ear.

“We have another old saying here in Holo-Land, ‘Your chawda is rapawda and I'm the bazawda!’ ”

Steven flicked at his ear to get the annoying little
holosound out and said, “Dictionary, what does that mean?”

Great-great-grampa Carter's cranky dictionary said, “You really don't want to know. Let's just say it has something to do with grass and lawn mowers.”

Steven followed Richelle and Russell through the porch door and thought, “Man, I hope things aren't any stranger in this next place!”

If that's what you're counting on, sorry 'bout your luck, Steven!

The Guide of Last Resort

O
nce the flint future Detectives walked through the door, they found themselves on another porch. There was no yellow brick road, but there was one street leading away from the porch, so they did what anybody would do, they followed it. The street led to a small grouping of houses.

Since he was a soon-to-be-great detective, Steven figured the house that they should go to first for information was the one that had a large sign out front that read: come here first for information.

Richelle knocked twice on an ornately carved door.

Before her knuckle hit the wood a third time, an unpleasant voice yelled out, “What?” Then again, even louder, “WHA-A-A-T?”

Richelle said, “We're here to find out about hiring a
guide to take us to”—Richelle read from the paper Mr. Chickee had given her—“to sixteen dot dot, six dot, twenty-one dot, fourteen dot, eleven dot dot.”

The door buzzed, then swung open.

They walked into a living room that had only a couch, a television and a thick book on a stand. On the wall of the room was a large Oops-a-Daisy that was counting down how much time was left for Ourside. Next to it was a sign that read, WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF SULLEN GUIDES.

Underneath that someone had written with a blue crayon, YEAH, RIGHT!

Steven said, “Hello? Is anyone home?”

A teenage boy whose hair was braided walked into the room carrying a sandwich and a bag of salt-and-vinegar potato chips. Wires led from his pocket to a pair of earbuds. He plopped himself on the couch and used a remote to turn the television on.

After a full minute of watching the young man eat, Richelle put her hands on her hips, tapped her foot and said, “I can't believe how rude he is!”

Russell said, “Yeah, Mummy would have a great time straightening that guy out. She'd send him to Granny Forde in Jamaica in a second!”

Steven walked over to the teenager and tapped him on the shoulder. The kid brushed at his shoulder like a fly had landed there and never took his eyes off the television.

Richelle walked over to him, pulled the earbuds out and said, “Excuse me! Can't you see we need some help?”

The kid said, “So?”

Steven said, “Is there somebody in charge here?”

“In charge of what?”

“In charge of helping us find a guide.”

The young man pointed at the book on the stand and said, “Check there.”

Richelle, Russell and Steven walked over to the stand. On the page the book was opened to what appeared to be a list of people. They all seemed to have the same last name and most had the word
OUT
penciled in after their names:

Steven started turning pages, and each one was filled with names and Roman numerals. After every single name on all of the other pages was written
OUT
.

Russell said, “Bucko, let's ask the dictionary what this means. I don't think that grouchy old kid is going to tell us too much.”

Steven looked at the thumb drive hanging around his neck.

“Man, I hate talking to this thing. But Dictionary, what's this all about?”

Great-great-grampa Carter's dictionary said, “Isn't it rather obvious? Many people in Ourside are named after the jobs they have. You are plainly in the house of one branch of the Guide family, and their job is to guide people throughout the land. What a shock!

“Using the reasoning powers of something like, oh let's be fair here, something like a large porous rock, I think it's pretty safe to assume that the ones with the word ‘OUT’ written after their name are probably not here, and the one with ‘IN’ is probably … go ahead, you're a future detective, you finish the sentence.”

Russell piped up, “The one with ‘IN’ is probably here!”

Richelle said, “Dictionary, don't all of their last names mean just about the same thing?”

“Are you sure you're a member of this group? Your questions seem to have a flicker of intelligence in them. But you're right, they're all synonyms of the word ‘sullen.’ Hence the name on that sign, ‘The House of Sullen Guides.’ Looks like I'm going to have to rerank the intelligence of the Flint Future Detectives. You've gone right to
the head of the class, young woman, surpassing the one who used to be the brightest in the club, that enormous, juicily salivating beast, Zoopy.”

Steven rolled his eyes, looked at Richelle and couldn't help himself, he said, “Bright
and
beautiful, what more could a young brother ask?”

Both
Russell and Richelle slapped Steven's head and said, “Look away!”

The kid on the couch said, “Oh, snap! That is the sickest thumb drive I've ever seen! I love its attitude, where did you get it?”

Richelle said, “Well! You do know how to hold a conversation after all.”

“No, seriously, where did you get it?”

Russell said, “Let's make a deal. You tell us what we want to know and we'll tell you about the thumb drive.”

“Bet! What do you want?”

Richelle pulled the paper from her pocket. “We need a guide to take us to … sixteen dot dot, six dot, twenty-one dot, fourteen dot, eleven dot dot.”

The teenager said, “Easy! Even a pack of idiots like you could find that.”