The Invisible Boy Read online

He shrugs.

  “Is it because of Paddle Boy? ’Cause I’d totally understand if he’s the reason.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’d stay inside to avoid him.”

  Eli gives me a strange look. “Do you mean that boy who lives across the street?”

  “Yeah. Kalvin or whatever.”

  “Why would you avoid him?”

  “Because he’s the worst.”

  Eli doesn’t reply. A plane hums overhead, on its way to Ronald Reagan International Airport, and Eli and I both squint up to watch. I wonder where the people inside are going, and what they hope to find, and how they feel about it. I bet there are a ton of stories on every single flight.

  A question pops into my head. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “When I grow up?” he repeats, like it’s a weird idea.

  “Right.” I give him a look. “Don’t you think about that?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. Then, suddenly, he says, “Teacher.”

  Not what I was expecting. “What would you teach?”

  With a shrug, he pats the earth around one of the lights. “I don’t know. Maybe math. I liked math.”

  “Eh, math’s okay.” I take the tape measure and count out one foot from the light, then stick a piece of mulch in the ground to mark the spot. “Where do you go to school?”

  He scoots down to the new mark, adjusts the spot so it’s a little farther from the stones, then starts digging. “I’m—I do school at home.”

  “But—who teaches you? I thought Candace has a job or something.” At least, she never seems to be home when I’m over during the day. And I don’t remember seeing her car in the driveway very often since I moved to this street. I guess she could teach him at night, but that’s when she has her house parties.

  “A … tutor.” He shakes his shaggy hair out of his eyes. “What about you? What do you want to be?”

  “An investigative journalist,” I say without hesitation.

  A grin flashes across his face. “You’d be good at that.”

  I busy myself marking the next place, hoping he can’t see my grin. To the ground, I add, “I used to think about being a long-distance biker—like, the bicycle type, not the motorcycle one. My parents and I bike the Mount Vernon Trail every couple weeks. Sometimes even from here to Arlington Memorial Bridge and then all the way to DC.”

  “I used to have a bike,” Eli says. He stands and wipes his dirty hands on his pants. The hole over his knee tightens on his skin for a moment, revealing crisscrossed white scars.

  “Is that how you got those?” I ask, pointing.

  He glances down and tugs the frayed fabric to cover the opening. “Um. Yeah.”

  “Hmm.” I go back to measuring while he returns to the patio for more supplies. Wonder Dog trots after him, wagging her tail. I push some soggy leaves out of my way. Then, genius strikes. I grab a handful and duck behind a tree off the path.

  When Eli returns, he stops and looks around for me. “Nadia?”

  I jump out and lob the leaves at his face. The pile hits his arm (my aim is bad) and he blinks, surprised.

  A laugh bursts out of me. “Got you!”

  He stares for a moment, and just when I start to worry that he’s upset, he sets down his supplies and snatches his own pile. I squeal, ducking my head behind my arms, and a handful of wet leaves splats onto my hair. There’s a stick near my foot, and I take it, spinning on my heel and brandishing it like a sword.

  “Ha!” I shout. The rotted wood sags in the middle and breaks without Eli even having to touch it.

  He lifts his eyebrows.

  “Hold on!” I search the ground for a worthy replacement. “I need a better sword!”

  “Too bad I know where they are.” Eli takes off, Wonder running after him.

  I give chase. “Not fair!”

  The path twists and turns, making the yard seem enormous. It feels like another world—one far away from the ordinary neighborhood. One where superheroes play and summer reigns and no evil dares enter.

  Rounding a curve, I skid to a stop. In front of me, the shed stands in its quiet spot. Eli has vanished. Again.

  Wonder Dog sniffs around, like she’s lost him, too.

  When I put my fingers to the shed door, it creaks open. Inside, everything is orderly, just like it was the night of the party. Not a single cobweb, not even any dust. But just like that night, there’s no boy here.

  “Surrender now, or face your doom.”

  I whip around. Eli’s holding a long stick right in my face, eyes shining with excitement. It’s like he’s changed—no longer the kid whose gaze skirts away from mine, the one who hesitates before every decision. This is the boy who dove into the water after Wonder.

  “You’ll never take me alive!” I snatch a rake from the shed and knock his stick away. With a shout of challenge, I vault out the doorway at him. He dodges faster than I anticipated, and my foot catches on the stones at the edge of the path. I shoot headfirst into a bush.

  “Nadia?” Eli asks. I hear him take a step closer. “Are you okay?”

  I spit leaves out of my mouth and roll over, lifting my rake at the same time. I push the handle firmly against his chest. “Got you!”

  One side of his mouth tilts up. “You did that on purpose?”

  “Definitely,” I lie, grinning.

  He nudges the handle aside and moves back for distance. He twirls his stick sword in his hand—almost drops it—corrects his hold and extends it toward me. “Round two!”

  But before we can begin, a timer somewhere in the house goes off. Wonder Dog gives a startled bark. Eli sags and lowers the stick.

  “What’s that?” I ask, not letting down my guard in case it’s a trick.

  “Nothing. But—I have to get back inside.” He leans his stick against the shed wall. “I have to do some chores in there.”

  “Oh, well, I could help,” I offer. Chores are not my first choice of activity, but if it means I get to learn more about Eli, then it would be worth it.

  He shakes his head and takes my rake, setting it back in its place in the shed. “No, that’s okay. Thanks, though.”

  I follow as he starts walking back to the gate. This visit has been way too short for any real progress. I kind of wonder if he planned that timer as an excuse to put off my investigation. “I can come back tomorrow, though, right?”

  Eli hesitates. “I … guess.”

  I hook on Wonder Dog’s leash, relieved. “Great. Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  Eli shrugs and opens the gate for me. “Yeah, I—”

  There’s someone standing outside the gate.

  We both freeze.

  “I thought I heard noise back here.” Paddle Boy, arms crossed, lifts one eyebrow. He looks from me to Eli. “Who are you?”

  “Nothing! No one!” I say, way too loud. I shove Paddle Boy back and pull the gate—

  Paddle Boy sticks his foot in my way and forces it open. He blinks. “Hold on. Where’d that boy go?”

  I look, too. Eli has disappeared.

  Exhaling in relief, I ask innocently, “What boy?”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny.” Paddle Boy glares at me but shuts the gate hard enough that the latch clangs. “Who was that kid? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I lift my chin and march past him to the street. But of course, Paddle Boy follows.

  “That’s the boy I saw late at night,” he says, maybe to me or maybe to himself. “How long has he been there? Did you ask him why he’s outside super late?”

  “Why were you out super late?” I shoot back.

  Paddle Boy sniffs. “I wasn’t out. I was playing Minecraft, and it was the weekend, so I’m allowed to be up late.”

  Of course it has something to do with video games. I decide to ignore him.

  “Oh, jeez, the silent treatment?” He picks up his pace so he’s glowering beside me. “So mature.”

  Still looking straight ahead, I say, �
�This is top secret and you don’t get to know.”

  “Top—?” Paddle Boy groans in frustration. “I’m the one who gave you information about him at the park.” I don’t answer, and after a few minutes he mutters, “I thought maybe you’d changed.”

  My face heats, though I’m not sure why. I want him to stop asking questions. I want him to forget he ever saw Eli. I spin on my heel and point in his face. “Just because I saved your life doesn’t mean I like you.”

  “Wow. Okay.” He lifts his hands in surrender and turns the other way. “Whatever, Nadia.”

  I watch him leave.

  Somehow, I feel worse than I have all day.

  Chapter 11

  UNINVITED GUEST CRASHES PARTY

  I rush to Eli’s on Wednesday afternoon, desperate to explain. I can only hope he doesn’t think that I actually wanted Paddle Boy to come—that I broke my promise and gave away the secret. Wonder Dog sniffs at a huge branch that’s down in Mrs. B’s front yard, but I pull her past without giving it more than a glance. If Eli thinks I’m a traitor, he might not even let me see him.

  “Woo WOO ooo ooo ooo,” I call as I come to a stop. The wooden fence stands massive, cutting me off from the world of superheroes and friendship and adventure. I barely breathe, waiting.

  After an agonizing two minutes, a latch clicks and the gate swings ajar.

  I push into the backyard and start my speech. “I am so sorry, but I told you he’s the worst and—”

  Eli’s gaze flicks to me, and then something past my shoulder. He points.

  I spin around.

  Paddle Boy is standing behind me, in the gate’s opening.

  “The worst?” he repeats, one infuriating eyebrow raised. Then he shifts his attention to Eli. “Okay. Who are you?”

  Eli’s hands shake. He glances toward me—not my face—and his mouth parts, though no sound comes out.

  I jump between the two of them, shielding Eli from Paddle Boy’s view. I’ll buy time, and Eli can escape. “You followed me?”

  “Well, it was clear I wasn’t getting information any other way.” Paddle Boy leans back and folds his arms.

  “You aren’t allowed to be here,” I snap, putting my fists on my hips. Wonder Dog ruins the effect by wagging her tail and giving Paddle Boy’s shorts a friendly sniff. I tug the leash, but she ignores me. Trying to maintain my tone of command, I add, “You—you should leave.”

  “Is this a secret club or something?” Paddle Boy’s eyes light up with interest.

  “Ugh.” I barely keep in a groan. “I guess. Sure. But you aren’t invited.”

  “Last I checked, this isn’t your house.” Paddle Boy moves to go around me, but I shift into his way again. He rolls his eyes. “Well, what do I need to do to get invited?”

  “You have to promise to tell no one,” Eli says behind me.

  I whirl in surprise. Eli is still totally visible, his skin pale and his eyes dark and his hands in his hoodie pockets.

  He should get out of here. He should disappear.

  “Okay,” Paddle Boy agrees.

  “What?” I demand to Eli. I wave my hand in Paddle Boy’s direction. “We can’t just let him in here!”

  “He already is here,” Eli points out with a sharp glance at me.

  “I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Paddle Boy crosses his heart. “And I’ll be way better than Nadia at sneaking around.”

  I gape. The nerve!

  Paddle Boy steps past me to get a look at the yard. “So what’s the deal here? You live with Candace?”

  Eli nods silently.

  “What’s your name?” Paddle Boy asks.

  I jump in before Eli can answer. “The Invisible Boy!”

  They both look at me, confused.

  “I’m Lightning Lane,” I add, lowering my voice. “Wonder Dog is Wonder Dog. I have the power of stopping time, and Eli is invisible and also can fly. Wonder Dog has hyper speed.”

  “Okay…” Paddle Boy frowns. “So it’s a secret superhero club? What should my superpower be?”

  Smashing paddles, I think.

  But I keep quiet. We are in the Red Zone here, full-on Emergency Level 1. A supervillain has infiltrated Eli’s hideout. It’s time to play nice—until I can get rid of Paddle Boy without any property damage.

  Think. I don’t really know that much about Paddle Boy, other than the paddle incident. We go to the same middle school, we’re even in the same grade, but we never hang out. He might have information about me from spying on my mom’s blog, but I’m not even sure I could name his favorite color.

  “Well—coming up with a superpower is easy for most people,” I explain to him, biting back my annoyance. “You pick a hobby or a favorite thing you already have—like, how I’m basically a reporter—and then you add a superpower that would make it easier. I can stop time so I can take notes.”

  Paddle Boy frowns. Impatient, I motion for him to have a go.

  “Um…” He rubs his head. “I like … Minecraft.”

  I try not to roll my eyes.

  “I like making cities on it. I’ve made a replica of DC—for a school project, but it was pretty fun.”

  “That does sound kind of okay,” I admit reluctantly. “So—what would make you better at doing that?”

  “High-speed Wi-Fi.” His eyes widen with delight. “I could be Wi-Fi Man. I make my own Wi-Fi wherever I go, connecting gamers everywhere. And,” he adds, looking sheepish, “y’know, saving innocent people and stuff.”

  Man might be a big huge stretch. But if it keeps him happy, so be it. “Fine. You are now Wi-Fi Man.”

  “Sweet.” He smiles, a little tentatively.

  No one says anything. Eli is still standing basically frozen, stiff and wary. I want to get him away from Paddle Boy and explain that I’m coming up with a plan to make this right. But Paddle Boy acts totally comfortable, examining the patio like he was invited over.

  Somewhere nearby, a door closes. Eli hears it, too, and stands up straighter.

  Paddle Boy turns back to us. “So what do you guys—?”

  “Shh.” Eli motions him to be quiet.

  We listen.

  There’s a soft little crying sound. “Ohhhh!”

  It’s coming from Mrs. B’s property.

  I tiptoe to the fence and find a crack between the boards. Through it, I can see part of Mrs. B’s house and front yard. She goes to a fallen tree branch—which is nearly as big as she is tall—and kneels. Another little sound comes from her—almost like a whimper.

  Paddle Boy nudges me over so he can see, too. I elbow him in the ribs. Eli takes a place by the gate hinges, where there’s another gap.

  “Grandma?” James’s voice, coming from the direction of the front door. He breathes in sharply enough that I can hear it, and a second later he jogs into my view of the branch. “Is it—?”

  Mrs. B lifts something out of the tangle of leaves. Scraps of white and red wood.

  The birdhouse her husband made her.

  “We can fix it,” James says, squatting and taking one of the pieces. “I’m sure it could be repaired if we…”

  Mrs. B shakes her head. I can’t see her face from here, but her voice sounds wispy. “It’s all right, hon.” He opens his mouth to argue, but she puts a hand on his arm. “I don’t … I don’t want to fuss about it. I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.”

  James hesitates. “Well—here, I’ll move the branch over to the side of the road. We’d better call someone to come take it away.”

  While he shifts and grunts and drags the branch, Mrs. B collects the fragments of broken birdhouse. Even the wooden pole it stood on is crushed. When she has her arms full of everything, she walks toward Eli’s yard. He steps away from the gate, so softly he doesn’t make a sound. I hold my breath but keep watching.

  Quietly, she places the wood in the recycling bin on this side of her house. She pauses for a moment, looking down at it, and then lowers the lid. She stands there, her hand trembling as she
rests it on the top. Two big tears slide down her cheeks.

  James walks over from the yard, brushing his palms on his pant legs. “Are you sure you don’t want me to—?”

  Mrs. B makes a swipe at her cheeks and swivels with a quick smile. “I’m sure. You’re doing so much already.” She takes his arm and walks toward the front door. “I think we should have some lemonade and get back to work on the closets…”

  A moment later, I hear the front door close. I move back and bump into Paddle Boy.

  “Sorry,” he mutters, getting out of the way.

  Both of us are solemn, but when Eli faces me, his expression is eager. “Can you get those pieces, Nadia?”

  “Um, sure.” I pass Wonder Dog’s leash to him and slip through the gate. The recycling is in a smallish rolling trash can, and when I open it, the pieces are splayed out over some old cardboard. I grab whatever I can carry—which isn’t quite all of it—but before I turn away, shoes shuffle beside me. I glance over my shoulder.

  Paddle Boy has followed me—again.

  Mutely, I pass him my handful of scraps, then lean back over to get the last of them. At least I’ll only have to make one trip. Inside the garden, we put all the pieces down on the patio, and Eli starts to sort through them. The crumbled remains of the birdhouse look pitiful. I glance at Paddle Boy and narrow my eyes. This wouldn’t be the first time something in the neighborhood got smashed.

  But before I can put together a solid theory for how he might have destroyed another precious neighborhood item, Paddle Boy asks, “Can we fix it?”

  “What?” I blurt.

  “Mr. B made that for her.” He crouches down across from Eli. “She told me at the house party. It’s really important.”

  “I know that,” I reply, crossing my arms.

  Softly, Eli adds, “He gave it to her right before he got sick. As an anniversary surprise.”

  Well, I didn’t know that. But Eli’s been around longer than both Paddle Boy and me.

  Paddle Boy picks up the tiny cupola. Somehow, it’s still in one piece. “So—do you think we can fix it?”

  “The ends are mostly intact,” Eli says, almost to himself. “That—and the little piece you’re holding—would be the hardest part, so—maybe. I have the tools. If I had the right supplies, I think I could put this back together.”