The Boy with 17 Senses (23 page)

“Thanks for the key!” Jaq yelled at Davardi as he passed him.

31

ENDINGS ARE LIKE CAKIES—SWEET AND OVER TOO SOON

J
aq and Bonip flew home. Jaq rode his hoverbike right over the fence and up to his front door. He ran inside to find the room empty.

There was a note on the table.

Jaq—You're going to have to spend the night alone, I'm afraid. I've got a lead on someone in Shimporti City who might lend us the money we need to pay off Vilcot. I'll be back in the morning
.

Love,
Mom

Jaq put the note down and sat in the chair, relieved that his mother hadn't spent the night worrying about where he was. Bonip was already fast asleep on the floor. Jaq closed his eyes and felt the exhaustion of the past few days overtake him.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when the angry voice of his grandfather woke him up.

“We've got until sundown, you no-good, greedy, arrogant fool—Oh, it's you, Jaq. There's a fancy hoverbike outside. I thought it belonged to Vilcot.”

“Grandpa, you're out of jail!”

“They kicked me out,” Grandpa said. “Can you believe that? I wanted to stay, but they made me leave.”

“Jaq,” his mother said, coming in behind Grandpa. “I'm so sorry I had to leave you alone. Have you had breakfast? Why don't you grab a plate and see what you can scrape off it.”

“You're a mess,” Grandpa said. “Go find your spare shirt.”

“It doesn't matter,” Jaq said, jumping up and smiling so wide, he thought his face was going to split. “We're rich! I found Plenthy. Grandpa, he didn't swindle you. He's been building a glug farm with your investment. It's a huge success!”

Grandpa couldn't speak. Jaq's mom couldn't speak. They looked at him as if he were talking in a different language. Jaq handed them each a cakie while he explained, telling them everything that had happened. His mom kept saying, “It can't be true,” like she was scared to be hopeful, because their hopes were always crushed.

Jaq gave his grandfather the key that had saved them. Grandpa still had the first key, and he kissed them both.

“I knew I could trust that Plenthy,” Grandpa said. “Good man, good man.”

The door burst open again, and this time Tormy Vilcot and his grandfather barged in, followed by Davardi.

“You stole my key!” the elder Vilcot bellowed. He walked right up to Jaq and yelled in his face. “You have my key and I want it back.”

“That's funny,” Jaq said to Davardi, who was standing behind Vilcot. “When I wanted my wipper-slinger back, you said, ‘A deal is a deal.'”

“That's right,” Grandpa said. He stood up slowly and walked over to the elder Vilcot, poking him in the chest. “You've already taken everything you're entitled to and then some. How can you possibly think we owe you anything more?”

“Because you robbed me!” Vilcot swatted the finger away from his chest. “You tricked me. You have to be punished.”

“I did not trick you. And I paid my debt in full. With my farm. You lost nothing, and yet you still act like you're the victim.”

“You should be in jail.”

“What more do you want from me?” Grandpa asked.

“I want those keys!” Vilcot screamed.

“Well, I want my farm!” Grandpa screamed back.

The two men stared at each other. Jaq could feel the invisible current of hatred that seemed to flow between them. He felt it charge and grow, the air pulsing. It frightened him.

“Why don't you trade?” he said.

The current disappeared as they both looked at him.

“Grandpa, you can give him the keys . . . and Vilcot can sell us our farm back. We can pay him whatever he paid for it. Then everyone's got what they started with. That's a fair deal.”

Grandpa clutched the keys a little tighter. Vilcot looked suspicious.

Jaq shrugged. “Fine, you two can keep wanting what the other has.”

“I don't know if I want my farm back. He's ruined it,” Grandpa said. “Have you seen the dying vines? And he sold off all my animals.” He held up the key. “With this, I can probably buy that huge spread over in Upper Chumplex.”

“No,” said Vilcot. “The only way to make things right is to go back to how we were. I'll give you your farm back if you pay me what I paid for it, plus interest, and the keys. Everything should be back with its original owner.”

“Then I get Klingdux back,” Jaq said. “And my plastic bird with the glugballs.”

“No way,” Tormy sneered.

“Tormy!” Vilcot hushed his grandson. Then he whispered in his ear: “They've had those keys for two days and have come back with more glug than I've seen in my life. They've bought themselves a Zipley Roadster, and they've offered to pay me more than the farm is now worth.”

Tormy glanced outside at the Roadster. He sneered and said to Jaq, “Fine. You can take the stupid critter, for all I care.”

“But we will not return the chicken,” Vilcot said. “That's not part of the agreement. You can forget this deal if you demand the plastic bird. And the glug display I've set up in our trophy room stays with us, too.”

Grandpa squinted at Vilcot as if he were unable to make a deal with the man he hated. But at last he said, “All right.”

“Not so fast. First tell me how the key works,” Vilcot said.

“The key splits apart,” Jaq said. “There was a map inside. It led to a wormhole, which is like a tunnel through space. On Earth, glug is everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“That glug-filled chicken cost less on Earth than a drink at Cinaco's Refreshments,” Jaq said. “People spit glug out onto sidewalks, stick it under tables, and treat it like garbage. It grows in trees there.”

Vilcot rubbed his fingers together; they were itching to grab the keys.

“Show me the map,” Vilcot demanded.

Jaq took the key from Grandpa and opened it. Jaq had put the now-worthless map back inside. He didn't tell Vilcot that the map was worthless, that the wormhole was gone. He felt a little guilty about holding on to that information, because he knew he was tricking Vilcot the same way he'd been tricked.

“On the other side is a letter to Grandpa from Plenthy,
asking for help,” Jaq said. “He'd been sending updates to Grandpa at the farm. Why didn't you forward the mail to Grandpa?”

“Help you miscreants? Ha! Never. The day I help a Rollop is a day the moons collide. I threw all those letters out.”

Vilcot really wasn't making it easy to do the right thing.

“Nobody swindled you,” Jaq said. “If you'd have just been patient, you'd be part owner of a glug farm.”

“Stop talking. You're just a kid and you don't know anything,” Vilcot said. “Glug farm . . . Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“The glug farm is real,” a voice said. Jaq looked over and saw Plenthy coming through the front door. He was wearing new clothes, and Jaq could see that Davardi wanted to reach out to feel how soft they were. “You would be a part owner if you hadn't gotten nervous and demanded your money back.”

“You!” Vilcot said.

“Yes, me. And yes, I've been away too long. But I've been working very hard to make this investment pay off. And it has. Our glug farm has produced enough glug to pave the streets from here to the marketplace.”

“Hmm . . . I think I'll put a swimming pool in over there,”
Grandpa said, pointing to the dead ripweed field. “And turn this shack into a gazebo. Then I'll get my animals back—the robuses, the caponutters, and, of course, the gows.”

“Do what you want, you old fool,” Vilcot said. “This smelly pit hole of a town was never good enough for a Vilcot. With what you're paying for the farm, plus all our new glug, we'll be able to move out of here for good.”

The Vilcots left to get the farm deed so the deal could be finalized. Grandpa couldn't stop smiling after they were gone, and he and Plenthy talked and talked like the old friends they were. Grandpa's whole demeanor had changed dramatically with the return of his friend. His slothful disposition had disappeared, replaced by an almost childlike excitement, an excitement that was bolstered considerably when Plenthy showed him the dividend check. Plenthy also agreed to lend the Rollops whatever they'd need to buy the farm back.

When Vilcot returned, he signed over the deed in exchange for the checks. Then he looked at Jaq, who held the keys.

Jaq looked at his grandfather. His grandfather seemed to know what Jaq was thinking, because he just nodded.

“Wait,” Jaq said. “I have to tell you something. These keys are worthless. The wormhole is gone. You can't go back to
Earth. But you're still getting a fair price for the farm, even without the keys.”

The elder Vilcot frowned at Jaq. “You trying to get out of our deal? We had an agreement. If you don't hand over those keys, I'll take you to court.”

“Okay, fine,” Jaq said. “But I still want Klingdux.”

“Tormy!” Vilcot yelled.

Tormy came in holding Jaq's pet, who was twisting and turning to get out of his grip.

“Take the stupid creature!” he yelled, tossing Klingdux to the ground.

Jaq scooped him up, laughing as Klingdux licked his cheeks. He held out the keys to Vilcot, who snatched them out of his hand and left.

It was over. Jaq had Klingdux back, and his grandfather had his farm back.

The Rollops knew that Vilcot wouldn't take the disappearance of the wormhole well, and, sure enough, the very next day they saw an angry Vilcot storm into the marketplace, his eyes blazing with fury.

He spotted the Rollops at the outdoor café and charged up to them, throwing the worthless keys on the table.

“You swindled me.”

“You swindled yourself,” Grandpa said very calmly. “Vilcot, if you'd just believed me from the beginning, if you'd just trusted our friendship, we'd all be rich and happy right now. But no, your pride and greed got the better of you.”

“This isn't over,” Vilcot said, pointing a finger at each Rollop in turn. “Nobody makes a fool of me.”

“Nobody was trying to,” Grandpa said. “You do a fine job of it on your own.”

EPILOGUE

I
t was a nice gazebo. Winnowberry vines crawled up the frame and draped the top with pretty pale yellow flowers. Sitting in the shade underneath, Jaq watched the streaks of red and blue that flew and swished through the sky with each yell of a flying wipper. Bonip, sitting in his own mini-chair, slurped up worms from a bucket next to him.

“Ahhhhh!” a flying wipper screamed.

Jaq smiled as the wipper landed in the middle of the swimming pool with a tiny splash.

“Eight point five!” Bonip shouted.

“Nine! That was a nine!” another said. The other wippers all called out their scores.

Grandpa and Plenthy sat next to Jaq, sipping tendamelon tea. “Look at that,” Grandpa said, pointing to Klingdux. The fence was gone, and they could see right into an orchard of fruit trees, where Klingdux picked up the next wipper, spun in a whirl, and let him fly. “Wippers playing with a wipper-slinger. Who'd have thought?”

“Bonip did,” Jaq said, smiling down at his friend. “After
Klingdux flung him over here before I left that last time. He said that Klingdux wasn't such a bad guy after all. He was just doing what came naturally.”

“Smart wipper, that Bonip,” said Plenthy.

“Hold on,” Jaq said, pointing at the sky. A small body flew through the air. It looked like a kid, only wipper-sized. “That's not a wipper.”

The miniature girl caught sight of Jaq and yelled “
Erip nu!
” right before she splashed into the water.

“
Erip nu?
” Grandpa repeated. “She's not from around here, is she?”

“Grandpa, she's as small as a wipper. Of course she's not from around here.”

“Hot tamales!” Plenthy said, jumping up. “Looks like someone found another wormhole.”