The Unusual Mind of Vincent Shadow (12 page)

“This is my invention,” George Jr. said as he pointed to the toilet seat with one hand while holding his stomach with the
other. “I call it the Story Time Toilet Seat. When the, ah, the user sits down on the toilet, the seat will tell a story.”

George was extremely nervous. Everyone in the first row could hear George’s stomach.

George Jr. continued, “My toilet seat is completely wireless. The ah, ah, the user can download their favorite story and listen
to it while they do their business.”

George Jr. had sweat running down his face. He started to shake. He wasn’t sure he could continue.

BLOUP BLOUP BLOUP. His stomach bubbled.

George looked over to his dad for help, but his dad was still wearing “the look.”

“Now I will demonstrate how it works.” George carefully lifted the toilet seat and sat down.

The toilet seat began telling one of George’s favorite stories: “Now I don’t want to put all the blame on my parents, but
if you grew up with a name like Furious Jones, you too would have—”

“I can’t hear it,” one man yelled.

“Turn it up,” another yelled.

Calli walked out onstage and handed George Jr. a microphone. George held the microphone next to the toilet seat. The story
bellowed out over the auditorium loudspeaker and the crowd clapped. Soon they rose to their feet and the applause strengthened.
George Jr. smiled. They loved it. He wished his grandfather could see it. George Jr. was so excited as he walked off the stage
that he forgot all about his nerves.

Howard Whiz walked onto the stage and
the crowd rose to their feet. They clapped, hooted, and hollered as Howard slowly made his way to the microphone.

“Thank you, thank you,” he said to the crowd. They clapped louder.

“Thank you all for coming. This contest, and being here with these young inventors and all of you, well, it’s the best. Just
the best.”

They clapped even louder.

“Thank you,” Howard said. “Through hard work and courage, I have been fortunate to spend every day of my life doing what I
love most: inventing toys. And today, you had the chance to meet some very special kids who had the courage to follow their
dreams. And their dreams led them here today.” The crowd was still on its feet. “One of those talented kids will have the
opportunity to spend the summer with me, and together we will work hard to bring you the toys of tomorrow.”

“Where’s Vincent?” someone yelled.

“Let’s see the kite,” another yelled.

The crowd became restless.

“I’m sorry, folks. I know many of you came here today expecting to see Mr. Shadow’s kite. Well,” Howard paused. “Well, there
has been a change in plans, and unfortunately Mr. Shadow and his kite will not be part of the contest today. So, without further
ado, this year’s Whizzer Toys invention contest winner is—” Howard was suddenly distracted by a black bubble that was floating
inches from his face. He reached out and popped it with his finger.

FOO
.

Another bubble floated down toward the stage. Howard poked it.

BEE
.

“Did you hear that?” Howard asked.

A murmur swept through the crowd. They didn’t know what was going on.

“What is Howard pointing at?” Vibs asked Norton.

“I’m not sure,” Norton said. And Norton didn’t care. He was worried about Vincent. Now dozens of black bubbles were falling
toward the stage. Howard was popping them.

BEE
.

ZOO
.

BEE
.

FOO
.

A single giant bubble now floated down toward Howard. He popped it with the microphone, and the word
FOO
BEE
ZOO
BEE
echoed through the auditorium.

“It’s Vincent Shadow!” a man yelled, pointing to the catwalk high above the stage.

The spectators rose to their feet as Vincent grabbed a rope and slid down onto the stage.

Vincent’s class from Central Middle School in New York had seen Vincent on the news and had come to support him. And now they
were all on their feet chanting, “VIN-CENT VIN-CENT VIN-CENT.”

Vincent held the Pop Tunz bubble blower high in the air and unleashed dozens of bubbles from the jar marked “electric guitar.”
The bubbles floated out over the crowd and burst into a full-throttle, funk-punk guitar solo. The crowd went wild. Vincent
had done it. After years of trying, his bubbles were real—and people loved them.

Vincent switched jars and blew dozens of black bubbles onstage. Howard Whiz, with his white suit, white hair, white cane,
and all-white tie, was now running around the stage popping bubbles like a little boy.

FOO
.

BEE
.

ZOO
.

BEE
.

FOO
.

BEE
.

ZOO
.

BEE
.

The crowd began chanting, “FOO-
BEE
-ZOO-
BEE
, FOO-
BEE
-ZOO-
BEE
,” as Howard chased the bubbles.

Howard took Vincent by the hand and said, “I give you the Whizzer Toy contest winner: Vincent Shadow!”

The crowd began rushing the stage. Everyone was pushing and pulling, trying to get close to Vincent and trying to pop the
bubbles.

Norton, Vibs, Gwen, and Anna made their way through the crowd.

“Dad, you’re here!”

“That was amazing, Vincent. How did you do that?”

“Long story, Dad.”

“Not bad, Vincent,” Gwen said.

“What? What was that?”

Gwen smiled. “I said not bad—Vincent.”

Someone tapped Vincent on his shoulder. He turned around to find Jeff Benz and several of his former Central Middle School
classmates.

“Way to go, Bubble Boy,” Jeff said.

Bubble Boy?
Vincent thought.
Well, it beats Wigboy
.

Howard G. Whiz walked up and shook hands with Norton and Vibs.

“You must be Vincent’s parents.”

“We are,” Vibs quickly answered.

“Well, I don’t have to tell you how special he is. Vincent, I would like to invite you to work with me this summer at Whizzer
Toys, if it’s okay with your parents, of course,” Howard said.

Vincent looked at his father. “Of course it’s okay,” Norton said.

“We’ve always been so proud of Vincent,” Vibs added.

“Well, then, Mr. Shadow, I will see you in a few weeks.” Vincent nodded and looked at Stella.

“We did it!”

Vincent Shadow’s attic-turned-top-secret-lab is crammed with toy prototypes—from Rainbow Rocketz to Sonic Snorkelz—and he
has a sketchbook filled with drawings of inventions he still wants to build. So when a chance encounter with an eccentric
toy maker offers Vincent the opportunity to go from bullied weird kid to toy inventor extraordinaire, he realizes…

IT’S TIME TO GET SERIOUS ABOUT TOYS!

Debut author
TIM KEHOE
is a toy inventor himself, and the toys in this story are ones he has designed. He lives in Minnesota with his wife and five
children. Tim’s website is
www.VincentShadow.com
.