Here Comes Mr. Trouble

Eric looked down to see what it was, or, rather, in his mind he looked down to see what it was. Because though his mind sent out the command, his head didn’t move. He tried to raise his hand but it wouldn’t move, either.

Peter grinned, and then he and his two friends started walking down the corridor away from the entrance.

No longer surrounded, Eric knew this was his chance.

Run! His feet didn’t budge. Run! Nothing. It was like his shoes were glued to the floor.

Peter laughed again, then said a single word, “Come.”

Completely out of Eric’s control, his body turned around and began walking after the three other boys.

This is SO not good, he thought. Not good at all.

He tried to tell them to stop it and give him his body back, but his lips wouldn’t part. He had absolutely no control over anything but his thoughts.

Peter’s little gang moved through the empty corridors with Eric following right behind like a trained pet. As they passed classroom after classroom, Eric could hear teachers lecturing and students talking. If one of them, just one, would look into the hallway and see what was going on, maybe that would break whatever — spell? magic? hypnosis? — Peter was using on him.

But no one looked. No one asked them why they weren’t in class. No one noticed them at all.

And where was Vice Principal Rose when you really needed him? Sure he was right on the spot when someone was running down the hall. But when Eric was being led to who-knew-where like a zombie by a gang of monotone-talking bullies? The vice principal was nowhere to be seen.

And what about Fiona and Keira? Even without rubbing the unicorn, shouldn’t they have come back to see what was keeping him by now?

So many options for rescue, but none happening. If he could have screamed in frustration, he would have.

The only thing he could do was try to figure out where they were going. His best guess was outside to a less populated part of the campus. But that idea vanished when Peter turned down a small, dead-end hallway near the auditorium.

The first thing Eric saw once they turned was a sign on the wall that read “Everyone Has a Brain. It’s What You Do with It That’s Important.” The second thing was the door to the basement.

He was sure he was about to be taken down to some kind of medieval-era torture chamber, all set up and waiting for its next victim. Racks and chains and boiling oil and who knew what else.

But Peter walked right past the door.

Now Eric was really confused. If they weren’t going into the basement, then where were they going? There was nothing else in the hallway.

Peter answered the question five seconds later, when he stopped in front of one of the two windows at the dead end and pushed it open.

Just outside was the top of the hedge that surrounded the building. Beyond it was a green van that looked like one of the maintenance vehicles used by the school district.

As soon as the window was open all the way, a man outside popped up from underneath. Though he was wearing the same kind of coveralls the school gardeners wore, Eric didn’t recognize him.

Peter waved at Eric to come forward, and despite his unwillingness to do so, Eric did exactly that.

Somewhere in the distance, Eric could hear a single set of footsteps running down a corridor. The other boys either didn’t notice or didn’t care as they positioned themselves around him, tilted him back, and raised him into the air like a piece of plywood.

The runner was approaching fast, the steps growing louder and louder with each second.

Peter and his friends got Eric level with the window and then started moving him toward the opening, feet first.

With a loud clomp, clomp, skid, the steps halted at the end of the corridor. “Put him down!” Keira demanded.

The boys faltered only a second before they continued feeding Eric to the man outside.

“I said put him down!”

This time her words had zero effect. Eric’s knees were approaching the window frame. Soon he’d be all the way out, so if yelling at them was the only trick Keira had up her sleeve, then he was a goner for sure.

Suddenly the gardener stiffened, his eyes rolled back, and he dropped straight to the ground.

That was good in one way, but bad in the sense that now no one was holding the part of Eric’s legs that was outside. His feet were starting to tilt downward, but then someone grabbed them and pushed them back up.

Eric thought it was the gardener making a sudden reappearance, but it was Fiona.

“I believe my sister told you to put him down.” She held an odd-looking gun in one hand, Eric’s legs in the other.

Peter and his friends stopped. As one, they looked first at Fiona, then at Keira.

“That’s right,” Fiona said. “We’ve got you surrounded. See this?” She wiggled the gun. “Sleep juice. You’re not going to be much use once you’re unconscious. Now put him down.”

Peter and his two friends backed Eric away from the window. “Sorry,” he said. “You are not as smart as you think you are.”

Eric could see confusion pass through Fiona’s eyes. He could also see something else— another gardener just on the other side of the hedge behind her. He wanted to yell out and warn her, but his lips still wouldn’t move. Maybe Keira would see him and alert her sister. Then he realized his body was blocking her view.

“Smart or not, you’re about to go to sleep,” Fiona announced.

Just as she started to pull the trigger of her gun, the gardener reached across the hedge and grabbed her arm. A dart flew out of the gun’s barrel and bounced harmlessly off the hallway ceiling before crashing to the floor. At the same moment, Eric heard something solid clatter against the tiles as Keira yelled out behind him. But whatever was happening back there, he was facing the wrong direction to see it.

Outside, Fiona was struggling to get loose from the second gardener but having little luck. Just then, Peter and Tommy lowered Eric’s shoulders a few inches so his body was now lying flat. Gravity then took over and Eric’s head fell back, giving him an upside-down view of the hallway.

Now he could see Keira. Just like her sister, she wasn’t alone. But the person holding her was Vice Principal Rose. What was he doing? And why wasn’t he telling Peter and the others to put him down? Then Eric saw it in the vice principal’s eyes — that same odd look he’d seen in Peter. It was as if Vice Principal Rose wasn’t really himself.

Eric started to panic. Fiona and Keira were out of action and he was no better than a statue. Was Mr. Trouble nearby? Would he show up? There was no way to know so they couldn’t count on that. If only his body would listen to his brain and move like it was supposed to. If only he could do something! If he could move, even if it was just a little—

His finger twitched.

Eric held his breath. Had he imagined it? He concentrated again. This time he could feel his left pinky finger move up and down. It wasn’t just in his mind. It was real.

But if I can move my finger, then… He kept only one thought in his mind. I can do this. I can do this.

Suddenly, warmth bathed over his skin, and the numbness he hadn’t even realized he’d been experiencing began to fade away. Carefully, he moved his toes inside his shoes then twisted his head just a tiny bit to prove that he could.

Yes!

Vice Principal Rose was walking Keira toward him. Eric could see her struggle, but he knew she was no match for the vice principal, even in his odd, robot-like state. He tried to catch her eye but she wasn’t looking in his direction.

Then he noticed an odd-looking gun on the floor maybe five or six feet away. It was just like the one Fiona had been holding. A dart gun. Keira must have dropped it when she’d been grabbed.

Trying not to draw attention, Eric lifted his head until it was level with his body, then shifted his gaze so he