Out of This World Page 2

  “We’re having dinner in five minutes,” announced Mrs. Lane, who had shorter hair and fewer freckles than Jenna, but similar coloring and features.

  “Hey Mom,” said Zachary, “isn't it my turn to do the dishes tonight?”

  Mrs. Lane looked at her son as if he had come from another planet. “As a matter of fact, it is,” she answered. “But I never thought I would live to see the day when you would be reminding me of that.”

  Zachary smirked and glanced at his sister whose face was so red with fury that he thought she would explode. He could swear steam was coming from her ears. “Well, we all have to do our part, don't we,” he said.

  “Unbelievable,” said his stunned mother as she left his room and headed for the stairs, shaking her head.

  Jenna and Zachary waited until their mom was out of hearing distance to pick up where they had left off.

  “You are such an enormous jerk!” spat Jenna. “I should have known. How could I have fallen for another one of your scams? I must be the biggest idiot in the world!” she continued in frustration.

  And she was. Her brother was always so clever while she was so . . . not clever. Somehow none of her parents’ talents had been passed to her. That’s why she rarely put effort into anything. Why bother? She couldn’t measure up to the rest of her family no matter what she did. She just had to face facts—Zachary had gotten a double dose of the Lane smart genes and she had gotten none.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jen,” said Zachary smoothly. “You’re not the biggest idiot in the world. I mean, there must be one person who’s a bigger idiot than you.” He held out his hands, palms up. “I mean, I can’t think of anyone at the moment. But there must be someone . . .”

  His sister glared at him with a savage intensity.

  “Hey,” said Zachary innocently. “You shouldn’t be angry. I’m only hurting myself. You know how Mom and Dad are always saying that doing chores builds character.” He grinned. “Well, you’ll be building a lot of character.” He lowered his eyes and looked sad. “While I’ll be ruining my life playing video games and watching movies.”

  “You think you’re so cool,” growled Jenna. “But I notice you didn’t say you’d be playing with your friends, did you? Because you barely have any.”

  For just an instant Jenna thought she had landed a blow, that she had detected a flash of uncertainty, or even anguish, on Zack’s face, but she couldn’t be sure. And since his face was now back to its natural state of absolute confidence, she could well have imagined it.

  “There is one other thing,” said Zachary, clearly deciding to ignore what Jenna had just said. “Well, two other things. What do you want first, the good news or the bad?”

  “Neither,” she said. “I’m leaving. You may have won the bet, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to your garbage for even a second longer.”

  “Yeah, well this has to do with the bet,” said Zachary. “So I’ll make it quick, and then you can go. I’ll start with the good news. I tried to pull this same scam on Dad earlier today. But he won the bet. He figured out what I was going to do and messed me up.”

  It figured, thought Jenna. If anyone could beat Zachary at his own game, it would be their dad. “How is that good news?”

  Zachary shrugged. “I figured you’d like hearing that I got beaten.”

  Jenna had to admit he had a point. “So how did he win?” she asked. She could see someone figuring out what her brother was going to do, but she couldn’t figure how anyone could take the bet and actually win.

  “Good question. Until I tried it on Dad I couldn’t think of a way either. But Dad sure did. The second he accepted the bet he grabbed all the cards already face-up on the floor and turned them all over. Then he mixed them up, looked at me, and said, ‘Okay, Son, now turn over my card.’”

  Jenna grinned. “Wow. Dad really turned the tables on you.” She only wished she could have seen the look on her brother’s face when it had happened. “So what did you lose?” she asked.

  Now it was Zachary’s turn to smile. “Funny you should ask that. That’s the bad news part. At least for you. Dad didn’t want to bet money. So we ended up betting . . . well . . . chores. If I won, I wouldn’t be given any for the next three months. If Dad won, I would have to take on twice as many.” He paused. “As you know. . . I lost.”

  Zachary looked at his sister in mock sympathy as he stood up from the floor. “I’m afraid it’s going to be a long three months for you, Sis.”

  Jenna gasped in horror as the full, nightmarish implications of what her brother just said hit her like a freight train. Triple chores.

  Zachary darted through the open doorway as his sister began screaming—just managing to dodge the shoe she had thrown at him with surprising velocity.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vanished

  Jenna's father and brother were already seated at the kitchen table when she made it downstairs several minutes later. Upon seeing her arrive, her mother set a large white casserole dish on the table filled with what looked like Chicken Tetrazzini, although it was difficult to be sure. An unusual and unappealing scent rose from the dish and attacked Jenna’s nostrils. Mrs. Lane may have been a talented chemist, but for some reason her talents didn't extend into the kitchen. Jenna's father was a much better cook but he only cooked every other meal.

  Mr. Lane was a short man with dark brown hair and a round, friendly face, who always seemed to have a twinkle in his hazel eyes. He eyed the mystery meal cautiously, plopped a pungent mound of it onto his plate, and made a weak attempt to pretend to be enthusiastic about eating it.

  “Jenna, Sweetheart,” he said, looking concerned as she seated herself at the table. “I could have sworn I heard screaming coming from upstairs. Is everything okay?”

  Jenna sighed. “Just fine, Dad. Besides, I didn't hear any screaming.”

  “That's what your brother said.”

  Zachary looked at his sister innocently and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, isn't it strange that Dad thought he heard something.

  “The kids were upstairs playing,” reported Mrs. Lane to their father. She turned to face her children. “I'm glad to see it. It's a nice change from all that sparring you two always seem to be doing.”

  “Mom, really,” said Zachary, pretending to be offended. “You make what we do sound like a bad thing. Think of it more as . . . well, as verbal dueling. It’s good for us. You know, like being on the debate team. It’s helped make me the totally awesome human being that I am today.”

  Mr. Lane shook his head as he took a tentative forkful of what he hoped was chicken. “You know, not even a cow pasture is as full of manure as you are.”

  “Cow pasture?” said Zachary with a wry smile. “Manure? Really? Was that the cool expression a hundred years ago, Dad?”

  “No. I just made it up. How would you have said it?”

  Zachary thought about it for just a moment. “How about, not even a porta-potty is as full of cra . . .”

  “Okay, okay,” interrupted Mr. Lane. “Regardless of the expression you use, my point is that you’re full of it. Fighting with Jenna is like being on the debate team? Now I’ve heard everything.”

  “I’m telling you, our sparring is a good thing,” continued Zachary, undeterred. “It's giving us a chance to hone our linguistic skills—very educational.” He smiled. “There, did you see. I just used the words hone and linguistic. It's obviously working.”

  His father didn’t respond. He simply rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Or think of it this way,” continued Zachary. “You've seen animal documentaries. Young animals play-fight with each other to learn important hunting skills they'll need to survive when they're adults. That's all Jen and I are doing. We're just testing out our verbal combat skills to use in the human jungle we'll find ourselves in when we're older. Isn't it obvious that Jen and I love each other to death?” he finished with exaggerated sweetness, glancing over at his
sister and fluttering his eyelashes.

  “PaaLeeese, Zack,” she pleaded. “I'm eating. If your goal is to hone your verbal skills to the point where you can use them to make people puke—trust me, you're already there.”

  Zachary smiled and looked at his dad. “See. I rest my case. See how I’ve inspired my lame sister to come up with a halfway decent insult?” He raised his hands in front of him and turned his head in a show of modesty. “But no need to thank me for helping to mold your daughter. Really.”

  Mrs. Lane smiled. “Well, we know one thing for sure. If you can't get a real job, you'll always be able to get one as a conman.”

  “Or at least as a carnival pitchman,” his father chimed in.

  “Or maybe a used car salesman,” added Jenna.

  “You'd make a fine lab rat,” continued Mrs. Lane.

  “Now I think you’ve gone too far,” said Mr. Lane. “I don’t think he’s furry enough to make a good lab rat.”

  “Hey,” complained Zachary. “I'm being ganged up on. I don't have to sit here and take this.”

  Zachary’s father pursed his lips. “Well, actually . . . you do. Just think of it as Mom and I working to hone you. You know, just like in the animal kingdom. Working to teach you survival skills.”

  “Yeah, but with you and Mom, I can't hone back or I get grounded.”

  “True enough,” agreed Mr. Lane whimsically. “That does tend to give us the upper hand.”

  Jenna laughed. The conversation had put her in a much better mood. Her parents had a way of doing that.

  “Well that was, ah . . . delicious,” said Mr. Lane, pushing his plate forward. “Thank you so much, Honey.”

  Mrs. Lane eyed her husband dubiously and then turned to her children. “Did you hate it too?”

  Zachary and Jenna looked at each other helplessly. “No Mom,” replied Jenna finally. “It was . . . it was great.”

  Mrs. Lane smiled. “Yeah, just as I thought. I hated it too. Just because I cooked it doesn't mean that I don't have any taste buds. This won't get added to the list of regular meals.”

  The Lane family let out a collective sigh of relief.

  “Mom, I know that you’re an experimental chemist,” said Zachary wryly, putting on a pained expression. “But do you have to experiment with dinner?”

  Everyone laughed, including Zachary’s mother. Still smiling, she stood up and moved to where her husband was sitting. The white casserole dish was in front of him, filled with her horrible meal, and she decided it was time to remove it from the table.

  The kitchen began shimmering wildly.

  Shimmering?

  Jenna’s eyes widened in dismay.

  Rooms should definitely not shimmer. The kitchen seemed to undulate and it was distorted the way things were when you looked at them underwater while you were swimming. Or how the air sometimes looked around a blazing fire: all wavy and quivery. Was she the only one who was experiencing it?

  She looked over at her parents to find out. And they disappeared.

  Jenna heard a Zzzt, Zzzt, Zzzt sound—like the sound an electric bug-zapper made when it was zapping a bug—and watched in horror as her parents sank into the floor and were gone.

  Zzzt, Zzzt, Zzzt.

  Her parents had somehow been swallowed by the floor.

  They had disappeared right in front of her eyes, as if a trap door had suddenly opened beneath them and plunged them into a bottomless pit.

  Jenna gasped as the kitchen lights began to flicker and the room continued its unearthly shimmering.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Portal

  Jenna bolted out of her chair in horror. “Mom! Dad!” she yelled frantically. She had been seated closest to her father and rushed forward to where her parents had disappeared. But just before she reached her destination she realized that whatever had swallowed her parents was still there. She froze in place and looked down.

  And not an instant too soon. She was teetering at the edge of a huge, shimmering hole. The front halves of her shoes had already disappeared into this vast nothingness. And she was tipping forward. She gasped, swinging her arms in big circles, fighting to regain her balance. But she couldn’t do it. She continued to fall forward into the hole.

  In that brief instant she knew she was done for.

  From behind her, Zachary’s arms shot out and wrapped around her waist as she fell. Using all of his strength he stopped her momentum and launched the two of them backwards. He landed with a thud on the hardwood floor, sprawled out on his back, and his sister crashed down on top of him, the back of her head whiplashing into his jaw.

  It had all happened in the blink of an eye and Jenna was temporarily stunned. While her heart continued to race furiously the rest of her was paralyzed. She slowly came to her senses and realized that Zachary had long since removed his arms from around her waist and she was still on top of him. She quickly rolled off. Her brother was gingerly massaging his sore jaw.

  “Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, sitting up and carefully brushing over her legs and feet with both hands to satisfy himself that she was still in one piece. “Whew,” he said. “I thought you were a goner for a second.”

  Jenna sat up. “So did I.” A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trickled slowly down her face as the enormity of everything that was happening caught up to her. “Zack—” She was at a loss for words. “Thanks.”

  “Well I couldn’t have you disappearing on me,” he said awkwardly.

  Jenna frowned deeply as her thoughts turned again to her parents. They were gone. Just like that.

  “Zack, what— ” she croaked, barely managing to hold herself together. “What happened to Mom and Dad?”

  The color had drained from Zachary’s face and he looked ill. “I don't know,” he replied gravely, and Jenna could see that his eyes were moist like her own.

  Jenna had seen her brother when he had injured himself, and had seen him face any number of difficult situations, and he always stayed cool and focused. She couldn't remember the last time he had shown this depth of emotion. Having just watched his parents disappear into thin air and almost losing his sister to this same fate had shaken him badly.

  But as Jenna watched, her brother pulled himself together. He gritted his teeth and his expression hardened. “I don’t know what’s going on. But whatever it is—we’re going to find out.”

  Zachary jumped to his feet and motioned for Jenna to join him. They stood at the edge of the hole that had swallowed their parents and looked down. It was a perfect circle, about ten feet in diameter, and it shimmered wildly as if it were a field of energy. When they looked directly at the field their eyes blurred and they couldn’t keep their focus. But if they tried to look through it, rather than at it, it became as clear as glass.

  And somehow, this energy window in their kitchen floor didn’t show their basement below, but rather rolling hills and countryside, as clear as a bell for many miles. There was a road winding through the green hills and a bright red farmhouse in the distance. And even though they were looking down through the portal they viewed the scene sideways, as if from a car window.

  Their mouths hung open in fascination and disbelief. How could this be?

  Jenna spotted a small, bright purple bird flying towards her. Bright purple? As it got closer she saw that in addition to its unusual color the bird's body was so plump it formed almost a perfect sphere. It was the most ridiculous looking bird she had ever seen: a feather-covered, stubby-winged, purple softball flying through the air. She followed it in fascination as it got closer and closer and—

  “Ahhh” she yelled, throwing her head to the side as the bird came hurtling through the shimmering portal, passing right through the exact spot her head had been only a moment before. The bird barely managed to stop before hitting the ceiling and then, finally, landed with a thud on the kitchen table on legs as short and stubby as its wings.

  The bird turned tow
ard the stunned kids and began looking them up and down.

  “Now what?” asked Jenna.

  “I don't know,” answered her brother. “But at this point, nothing in the world could possibly surprise me.”

  “Hello, kids,” said the bird matter-of-factly.

  They both gasped in dismay. The bird’s beak had moved but their mother’s voice had come out.

  “I have a message for you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Mimic Bird

  Okay, thought Zachary, nothing in the world could possibly surprise me—except Mom turning into a bird. He suddenly felt dizzy and put a hand on the kitchen table to steady himself. Jenna had sunk to the floor, her mouth still hanging open.

  “Don't worry,” continued the bird in their mother’s voice. “I haven't turned into a bird. And I wasn't eaten by one, either.”

  Both kids let out a sigh of relief. But how had the bird known what they were thinking? It must be psychic.

  “And I can't read minds, either,” said the bird, reading their minds. “Your Dad and I just took a guess at the first few things that would pop into your minds when this bird started talking.”

  Suddenly, they both realized that what the bird was saying was not nearly as important as the reason the bird was there. That meant everything.

  It meant that their parents were alive.

  They both began speaking at once. “Who are you? How can you talk? Why do you sound just like Mom? Are Mom and Dad okay?”

  “I’m sure you have a thousand questions to ask,” continued their small purple visitor. “Unfortunately, the bird that is talking to you can't answer them. It's only a bird, after all, and not very intelligent. It’s called a Mimic Bird—for obvious reasons. Think of it as a living tape-recorder. It can only repeat the exact words your father and I had it memorize, using our voices. That’s what it’s doing right now. We trained it—using the pictures of you Dad has in his wallet—to replay this message once it found you. Unfortunately, its memory capacity isn't great so we had better get right to it.”