Troublemakers Read online

  “See?” I said. “My stomach hurts again. I told you it would.”

  “No,” said Tina, “we told you it would. Just like you got sick yesterday.”

  “I got sick today,” I said.

  “Yes, both of those things,” she said.

  “No, you don’t understand,” I said. “There is no yesterday.”

  “Very philosophical,” said Carlos. “What is going on today? It’s like the exact same day as yesterday. I can’t think of one thing that was different.”

  “Same gross corn as yesterday,” said Tina, poking at the vegetables she wouldn’t be eating.

  “That’s because it is yesterday,” I said.

  Carlos and Tina sighed.

  “Okay,” said Carlos. “I’ll ask: what are you talking about?”

  “It’s pretty simple,” I said, folding my hands confidently. “We’ve gone back in time.”

  “No,” said Tina.

  “This is why I said you wouldn’t believe me,” I said.

  “You’re right,” said Carlos. “We don’t believe you. Shut up forever.”

  “It’s simple,” I said.

  “You already said that, and your brain is dog barf,” said Tina.

  “We’re obviously caught in a time loop. Think about it: we saw the same guy pushing that car, the same kid on the hoverboard, the same skateboarder fell on his arm and was hilarious; Mr. McCrimmons, Ron, all the stuff in our classes – it’s all the same. We’re re-living yesterday. I suspect it’s due to the old chips I ate – something about them triggered a time warp, and as a result, we’re living the same day over and over. I talked to a guy on the bus once who was going through the same thing. Very common.”

  “Yeah, there’s no way that’s true,” said Carlos.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re dumb and that’s not what’s happening.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “Just watch. The same stuff is gonna happen all day, and then tomorrow, we’re gonna wake up and live the same day over again.”

  “Nope,” said Tina. “Are you gonna eat your lunch?”

  “No, I’m sick, just like yesterday. Today. You know what I mean.”

  She grabbed my dessert and gobbled it up.

  “Let’s see if we can sell his pizza,” said Carlos.

  “You’re gonna drop it and play hockey with it,” I yawned.

  And of course, they did. As we ran away, I gave Tina a look.

  “All that proves is that Carlos has no coordination,” she said.

  It’s sad how my intelligence goes unappreciated. The rest of the day, everything was exactly the same. On the way down the steps, we saw Chris Miranda again.

  “He’s gonna say Downton Abbey wrong,” I said.

  “Hey, Earl of Byron! Going back to your mansion at Downtown Abbey?” he said.

  “It’s Downton Abbey, you pillock,” I repeated, bored.

  He sneered at me.

  “I’m gonna slice your face off tomorrow,” said Miranda.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said.

  We went back to the laundromat, even though Carlos and Tina didn’t want to.

  “There’s no way this is gonna work again,” said Carlos.

  “Yes, it will,” I said. I marched right in and did my jingling and went up to the guy. He didn’t even get up – just handed me the coins right away when I asked him. I must have exuded more confidence this time.

  When I got home, Isaac was sitting on the couch, playing Fortnite, eating from a bag of popcorn while there was already an empty one on the coffee table, talking to Nadine on FaceTime.

  “Yeah, that’s crazy,” he said, pretending to listen. “No, nobody likes her. Yeah, I’ll probably go. I know. Yeah. Yeah.”

  I walked in front of the TV and he got his dumb butt killed.

  “Fudge, brudge!” He held the headphone to his ear. “What? No, not you. I’m playing Fortnite and my dumb brother just killed me. Yes, I’m listening! Blorb!”

  I gave him the finger and went in my room.

  Dinner was the same: Mom guilt-tripped Isaac, he said “Gurble burble burble,” Mom bought muffins. I checked the fridge, and they were definitely in there. Same exact homework as the day before, which would have been great, except I still didn’t know how to do it.

  I was sure the three of us had repeated the same day over again, most likely because I’d eaten an expired snack covered in chrono-dust. To test my theory, I got a marker and wrote on my hand:

  “+44 323-111-1111 Call me [heart] Kate Middleton.”

  If it was still there in the morning, that would mean it was a new day. In that case, I’d be wrong, but I’d get to show everyone that I got the number of Her Royal Highness The Duchess Of Cambridge. They might not believe me. It was worth a shot. I went to bed.

  __________

  Part III: The Return Of My Butt

  So anyway, the next morning, I woke up. I looked down at my hand: the message was still there. It seemed I’d actually woken up a day later. But maybe my body just hadn’t been affected by the wormhole. I checked the fridge – no muffins. Isaac was asleep on the couch. I checked my pocket for the money – it was there. Four quarters. Huh.

  I met up with the guys on the street. It was a little cloudy out, but only a little.

  “You ride here in your time machine, T-1000?” asked Tina.

  “Or just take the Magic School Bus?” said Carlos.

  “Haw, haw, haw,” I said. They continued making fun of me as we walked to Bizarro’s. There were no cars on the street because it was street cleaning day. I still had my dollar in quarters, but I bought another bag of Muy Anaranjado because I’m not gonna pass up a bargain like that. I chomped away as we headed for school.

  “I know we went back in time,” I said, coughing up orange flavor clouds. “Something must be wrong. I thought the trigger was the chips, but maybe that’s just what gives me the time fuel. Some other action must be required to initiate the sequence.”

  “That’s dumb,” said Tina. “We’re gonna ignore you now.”

  They were true to their word, so I had time to think. We had seen some different stuff that morning, which would make sense if it was indeed a different day. I finished up my chips and tipped the bag back, but there was more bottom-bag debris than anticipated, and a couple tiny pieces found their way into my nose.

  Hack-shooooooo!

  Ugh. Gross. I found a nearby bush to wipe the mucus off my hands. I had to hustle to catch up with the guys.

  “It’s only the penthouse if it’s the entire top floor,” said Tina. “You did not stay in the penthouse.”

  “Yes, I did,” said Carlos.

  “If the elevator doesn’t go straight to your room, that’s not the penthouse! There can’t be two penthouses!”

  “Yes there can! Any unit that’s on the top floor and receives special amenities not reserved for the other floors is technically a penthouse suite, and since only top-floor units had a full kitchen, ergo….”

  This seemed familiar. I looked up the street as we were stopped at the light. There were lots of cars parked on it.

  “Uh, guys?”

  “Ipso stupid! That hotel had six floors–”

  “Guys!”

  They glared at me, annoyed. I showed them my palm. The writing was gone.

  “What?” said Carlos.

  “It’s gone,” I said.

  “Your brain?” said Tina.

  “No, the writing.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I wrote something on my hand last night to test if we’d traveled back in time. I sneezed, and now it’s gone.”

  “Well, you didn’t tell us that, so you just sounded insane,” said Carlos.

  I was gonna argue, but just then we saw a guy all dressed in green pushing a red car down the street and screaming, probably issuing us a warning about changing the past. Then a kid zoomed past us on a hoverboard. Then on the next block, we saw kids skateboarding, and one fell and cr
ied out in pain and we laughed. Then Mr. McCrimmons shook his umbrella at us, and we looked up and it was super sunny. Then Ron said, “Cutting it close.” Carlos and Tina looked frightened.

  “I told you,” I said. “Time loop.”

  Math class, same homework back, same 4/10, same assignment. Social studies, Lewis & Clark, lying about how far we’d watched. Science, another quiz. I went ahead and tried “Golgi body” this time, but I forgot to PAND[7] at the top of my paper, so I got a point taken off anyway. Music class, more lip synchage.

  By lunch, as we sat over trays of square pizza and I held my stomach in pain, the others couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

  “Okay, fine, we’re traveling through time,” said Carlos. “You happy?”

  “Never been happier,” I said, wincing in agony.

  “All you have to do is stop eating those gross chips and we’ll stop repeating the same day,” said Tina.

  “But they huele mal!” I said.

  “I haven’t checked the numbers,” she said, “but when something bad happens to us, 100% of the time, it’s your fault.”

  “You don’t even know how to huele,” I said.

  “You’re not using that word right,” said Carlos.

  “What?” I said.

  “Your Spanish is wrong,” he said.

  “That’s Spanish? I thought it was just made-up words for the chip bag, like ‘Fritos’ or ‘cho-les-terol.’”

  “You could have made us repeat a Saturday, you know,” said Tina.

  “Let’s not dwell on the negatives,” said Carlos. “Yes, we can stop the time loop whenever we want. But first, how do we make money off this?”

  “I believe the way a time loop works is that we continue living the same day over and over until we destroy the aliens,” said Tina.

  “No, no, no,” I said. “That’s just made-up movie stuff. We have a scientific explanation for this.”

  “Your sneezes?”

  “No, my sneezes are the method of travel. The chips are what controls the space-time continuum. Don’t you guys know anything about Doctor Who?”

  “Do you know anything about getting punched in the face?” said Tina.

  “Yes, lots,” I said. “The point is, because I’ve eaten the chips today, if I sneeze again, we’ll live this day once more tomorrow.”

  “If it’s you who’s sneezing, why is it happening to us also?” asked Carlos.

  “I’ve been wiping my orange fingers on your shirts since I don’t carry a handkerchief.”

  He pulled his shirt around and looked at the back.

  “Well, that would explain why dogs have taken such an interest in me,” he said.

  After they played hockey with my pizza and we ran away, we set about concocting some sweet money-making schemes using our knowledge of how this day would play out. First, we tried selling everyone answers to the homework, but no one believed that the three of us would actually know the right answers to anything, so that didn’t work.

  “What do people do in movies?” I asked. “Should we kill Hitler? He probably lives in the 818.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Carlos.

  “Hmm, hmm, hmm,” I said, smirking at Tina.

  “Not your dumb idea,” he said. “We’ll get rich how time travelers do in movies, by gambling on stuff.”

  We knew the Dodgers were gonna lose that night, so all we had to do was get other kids to bet on the Dodgers. Then we’d collect fat stacks and break the legs of anybody who didn’t pay up. Only trouble with that was no one was willing to bet on the Dodgers to win, even if we gave them +300 odds. These kids aren’t stupid.

  School ended without much progress. We still weren’t clear on the actual advantages of repeating the same day over and over. As we walked down the steps, Chris Miranda appeared as usual.

  “Hey, Earl of Byron!” said Miranda.

  “Gaaaaaaaaah!” I shouted. I picked up a rock and threw it at him.

  “Ah!” he said, ducking out of the way.

  “You don’t know anything about the BBC!” I screamed. “You like to eat poop and then poop it out and then eat the poop again!”

  I gave him a second to process that insult.

  “What are you gonna do?” I said, doing a little dance in front of him. “Gonna slice my face off tomorrow? I’d like to see you try, pilchard!”

  He stared at me in disbelief.

  “Eat this, booftart!” I shouted, and then kicked a pencil that was on the ground. He let it roll on by down the stairs. I laughed like a psycho and ran off.

  “What in the ever-farting turds are you doing?” asked Carlos after the guys caught up with me. “Miranda is going to kill you.”

  “Who cares?” I said. “I’ll sneeze tonight, and we’ll relive this day. It will never have happened.”

  Carlos thought and nodded.

  “That’s true,” he said. “Provided you sneeze again, nothing that happens today will count. There’s no future….”

  “We can do whatever we want,” said Tina.

  We looked at each other. It was on.

  We realized we’d been going about money-making all wrong. Instead of coming up with smart ways to make money, we needed to come up with dumb ways to do it that would never work if there were a tomorrow, but totally would work because tomorrow wasn’t going to happen. Carlos found as many kids on the swim team as he could and told them that if they gave us $20 now, the three of us would each donate $1 per lap to the Swim-A-Thon fundraiser later that month.

  “Okay, but you know we can each swim at least 20 laps, right?” said Morkus, or whatever that girl’s name was. “This will end up being a lot of money to donate.”

  “That’s okay,” said Carlos as he filled out the sign-up form. “We’re in this to save lives. Or help you pay for uniforms. Or whatever this is for.”

  “Then why do we have to give you $20?” asked Mugglebuggle.

  “Just hand it over,” said Tina. “We promise we absolutely do not have a genius plan to get out of ever paying you.”

  We spent the money wisely, by getting a quadruple Fatburger with triple bacon and chili, and a shake with every flavor mixed together, which turned out to be more than $20 because that place is surprisingly expensive.

  “Should we have kept some of the money?” belched Tina. “I thought we were gonna get rich off this.”

  “No,” I said, “it’ll just disappear. We’re gonna wake up tomorrow and this won’t have happened.”

  “Wait,” said Carlos. “So we don’t keep anything we get today? That begs the question: are we supposed to make money now, or yesterday?”

  “Begs the question?” said Tina. “You’re a dork.”

  “We can’t collect any money if we just lose it in the morning,” he said. “We need to find a way to make money today, but tomorrow, which is yesterday.”

  “My brain hurts, and not just from snorting ice cream up my nose,” I said. My motto is any hole you can put ice cream in, you go ahead and do it. Parfait Diem.

  The mechanics of time travel were getting messy. We decided to go to my house to sort it out. As we walked in, Isaac was on the couch, playing Fortnite, eating from a bag of popcorn, talking to Nadine on FaceTime. I promptly stepped over to the coffee table and shoved all his stuff on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  Carlos reached over and hung up his call. We all laughed like maniacs.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “This never happened!”

  He looked very confused.

  “Okay…” he said. “That… wasn’t nice. Why would you—”

  “No consequences!” shouted Tina. She picked up my mom’s ancient Chinese vase and smashed it on the ground. We all sort of stopped for a moment as I looked down at the broken pieces.

  “Too far?” she said.

  “Huh,” I said. “Looks like my grandpa’s ashes are not really in there. Good to know. Smart of Mom to give me an incentive to be careful around it.”<
br />
  “Guess we better go fix it,” winked Tina.

  “See you later, turdbucket!” I screamed at Isaac as we ran into my room.

  The plan eventually came together: first, we looked up which stocks had gone up that day. We would repeat the day, and in the morning before school, we’d go into the computer lab and log onto Charles Schwab using the account Carlos made during our alleged Ponzi scheme. We’d buy some HOG at the start of the trading day, and then sell it that night after it had gone up.

  “We’re only gonna make two bucks off our one share,” said Carlos, “so we may have to live this day quite a few times to turn a major profit.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I might actually ace the science quiz if I get a few dozen more tries.”

  The only step remaining was for me to sneeze. Tina took care of that by pouring pepper into my nose and wapping a dusty rag in my face.

  “Come on,” she said. “Be a good boy and give us a sneeze.”

  “Hold on,” I said.

  I reared back, but nothing came out.

  “Go nuclear,” said Carlos.

  Tina reached in, grabbed a nose hair, and yanked.

  “Ow!” I screamed.

  “Sneeze already,” she said.

  “I can’t just do it whenever Gachooooo!”

  “There we go,” she said.

  GACHOOO!

  GACHOOO!

  GACHOOO!

  GACHOOOOOOOOOOO!

  I breathed heavily as the sneeze mist settled onto the floor.

  “Whoa,” said Tina.

  “I hope all those extra sneezes don’t have any disastrous consequences,” said Carlos.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said.

  __________

  Quack Quack Quack

  When I got up in the morning, there wasn’t any money in my pocket. No muffins in the fridge, but there also wasn’t any juice or anything. Something about this day seemed very different. I went into the living room, and before I got to the door, I stopped. Up on the bookcase, there was my mom’s vase, in one piece, magically fixed. It was on a different shelf, though. I didn’t see Isaac.

  I told Carlos and Tina, but they weren’t super convinced.

  “You’re an idiot,” said Tina. “I can’t believe you convinced us we were gonna travel through time.”