“I don’t think so,” said Wayne sternly. Then he put one arm around his brother Rodney’s shoulder and one arm around his friend Becky’s shoulder, so that they could together make a better barrier against the two bully-fugitives.
But Jackie would not be deterred. He tried a friendlier tack: “Come on, you guys! I heard that the house had this great big basement, and there’s an even bigger one beneaththat one! Wouldn’t it be swell to explore them?”
Wayne softened a little. “Two basements? One on top of the other?”
“Uh huh.”
Wayne turned to his brother. “The Professor never told us he had a secret sub-basement!”
“Waaayne!” Becky pursed her lips. She squinted her eyes and gave Wayne a scolding look.
“I don’t care if the Professor has basements going all the way down to China, Jackie, you can’t come into his house,” said Rodney sharply.
Jackie fixed his lips into the beginnings of a snarl. “I bet you’ll let us hide out in this house after I get finished slugging you with this fist, monkey.” The smarter and louder and more self-confident of the two bullies took a menacing step toward Rodney, his fingers already curled into a fist. Just as suddenly, though, his fingers relaxed.
“No, no. I’m not going to use my fist. I’m going to use my head. Just like my old man does to get what he wants. I can’t wait until I’m as old as he is and then I can be mayor myself and all you monkeys will have to do what I say!”
Jackie had hardly finished speaking when the squeal of a whistle pierced the air. “Uh oh,” said Lonnie, who wasted no time in running off.
“This isn’t over, monkey,” threatened Jackie from over his shoulder as he raced off in the same direction as Lonnie.
The foursome on the porch watched as the two partners in crime disappeared behind a neighbor’s dwarf fruit tree, which had toilet paper all tangled up in it. Then they watched as two police officers ran up the cobbled walk from the sidewalk. One of them kept going in the direction that Jackie and Lonnie had gone. The second of the two officers stopped. He was very winded and gasping for breath. “Don’t — stop — Stillwell!” he called to his partner between gasps. “I’ll — catch — up with — you — in a — minute!”
The officer looked up at the children on the porch. “I have asthma,” he wheezed. “It’s better than it used to be, but it’s still with me, unfortunately.”
Rodney and Wayne knew the police officer well. Officer Wall used to work in the Pitcherville Police Department’s Loud Noises Unit but was now detailed to a brand new police unit that had been created to handle an outbreak of toddler crime.
“So did they really go on a rampage and knock over all the baby carriages in the park?” asked Wayne, with interest.
Officer Wall nodded. “It was a real war zone for a while — all these carriages toppled over and all the babies yelling and cursing and shaking their fists. I think this was the intent of the masked troublemakers — to stir up a bunch of trouble, and that’s exactly what happened next. All these infants and toddlers and preschoolers started running around having tantrums and kicking and biting and lobbing pine cones at one another from behind their overturned strollers. The problem is — it’s been four days now and there are a lot of you kids who used to be teenagers who aren’t having a good time being reverted in your ages, and it’s all getting out of hand. Then you have troublemakers like Jackie Stovall and Lonnie Rowe who agitate. They agitate, that’s what they do.”
“You said it was like a war zone?” asked Wayne, who was trying to picture what all the chaos and destruction must have looked like.
Officer Wall nodded glumly. “Do you know where the word ‘infantry’ comes from?”
Four heads shook “no” together.
“From ‘infants.’ Makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m not kidding you, kids. I can’t wait for this thing to be over. I want to go back to my old job in the worse way.”
“That’s all you’ve been doing lately — stopping fights between children?” asked Rodney.
“Yes. Although I couldn’t help issuing a few loud noise citations for some of those bawling babies. They’re little human foghorns, that’s what they are. Oh, I’ve also been investigating a robbery over at the Gun and Knife store. Somebody took several revolvers from a display case. And ammunition. It had to be one of you little people, because there was no sign of forced entry. We think it was somebody small enough to crawl through the ceiling ductwork. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, now would you, kids?”
“No sir,” said Rodney respectfully. “Although I have a good idea who it might be.” Rodney darted his eyes in the direction that Jackie Stovall and Lonnie Rowe had run, to give the officer a good hint.
“Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind. Jackie has been a thorn in the side of the Pitcherville Police Department since he was old enough to start running over people’s feet with his tricycle. I don’t know why Mayor Stovall hasn’t done a better job of reining in his son. Now you kids be good and don’t you go and get yourselves mixed up in any of the craziness that’s going on out there.”
“We won’t,” said Grover. “Besides, we can hardly even walk.”
Officer Wall tipped his hat and went off to find his partner. Rodney and Wayne agreed with Becky when she said that it was turning out to be a very interesting day.
CHAPTER SEVEN
In which a fateful decision must be made and Rodney and Wayne are asked to help make it
That afternoon, Rodney and Wayne and Becky and Grover, inspired by Becky’s suggestion, all agreed to set up their business, which they namedCalamity Solutions, Wayne built a receptionist’s desk for Becky out of a large cardboard box. He also found a nursery room chair that she could sit in. Wayne and Grover had just started to put together another desk for use when there were interviews to be conducted, when the front door opened and into the parlor walked a man in his thirties accompanied by a teenage girl. The man was familiar to the foursome but the teenage girl was not.
“Hello, children,” said the man, shaking hands with each of the employees of Calamity Solutions, Inc. “Do you know me? Do I need to tell you who I am?”
“You’re Mayor Stovall,” said Rodney, who had been busy writing interview questions like “What is your level of urgency on a scale of one to forty-five?”
“If you are looking for your son Jackie, Mr. Mayor, we don’t know where he is.”
“Well, to be honest, I have been looking for him, ever since the first hours of this latest change to our town. But what else is new? My son is like a dusty sun beam that cannot be swept beneath the rug. And now I hear that he is in trouble again. But there is something more important that I have come to talk about. May we see the Professor?”
“But I don’t know who your companion is,” said Rodney, indicating the teenage girl with a nod of his head.
The girl grinned and then winked. “You don’t know?”