A Friendly Town That's Almost Always by the Ocean! Read online

  Finn said something, but Davy couldn’t hear him over Jules and Nia. They were already bickering about whose turn was next. With a shrug, Finn slid the cap into the coin slot and pulled the plunger as far back as it would go. Davy and the others moved closer as he released it, sending the ball zipping around the playfield. Jules and Nia fell silent.

  Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!

  PANCK.

  Davy blinked in surprise. The ball had somehow frozen in place, just a hair’s width from a kicker. Then, impossibly, it started to move sideways.

  “Is it magnetized?” he asked, gazing as the ball slid slowly toward a spinner.

  “Magnets?” Nia laughed. “No. It’s the ghost.”

  “What ghost?”

  “The ghost that haunts the pinball machine, silly,” Jules told him. “It’s not like this is a one-player game.”

  Davy leaned forward as the ball hit the spinner and ricocheted right into a hole, where it vanished. The lights flashed briefly in triumph before flickering off.

  “I wonder if anyone has ever won this game,” Quincy said.

  Finn made a face at the machine. “Doubt it.”

  “Doubt it,” Jules said at the same time. “That ghost cheats.”

  The pinball machine lights responded by glowing a dim, ominous red. The other kids stepped back, and after a second of hesitation, Davy did, too.

  “Anyway,” Nia said nervously. “Let’s visit the fortune-teller.”

  Quincy’s face lit up. “Ooh, me first!”

  Davy cast a longing glance at the skeeball game in the corner, but followed the others over to the mechanical fortune-teller.

  Immediately he decided he wasn’t interested in having his fortune told.

  The fortune-teller’s painted mannequin face was cracked and faded. She had no eyes to speak of. Her mouth was badly chipped, offering a peek into the black interior of her hollow head.

  Quincy slipped a few coins into the slot and the machine hummed to life. The fortune-teller’s head tilted in a way that reminded Davy of a lizard. He leaned away as Quincy pressed the button below a sign reading MADAM FLEA, TELL ME in fancy, old-fashioned script.

  A moment later, a card fluttered down into the tray. Quincy took it eagerly.

  What kind of cake worries about its weight?

  “Oh, good one.” Quincy scribbled the question in his notebook. “I love pound cake.”

  Nia went next.

  What happens to a pig who loses his voice?

  Earl Grey grunted in indignation.

  “Oh, come on,” Nia told him. “It’s just a silly fortune, there’s no reason to be disgruntled.”

  “These sound more like riddles,” Davy said, watching as Jules pressed the button. “Not fortunes.”

  “Riddles can be fortunes,” Jules informed him. She took her card from the tray.

  What do imaginary spiders do in your mind?

  Jules sighed. “Oh, that one makes my head spin.”

  Finn pushed the button and retrieved his card.

  What has a spine but no bones?

  “Hmm…” Finn tapped his chin. “I’ll have to look that one up in a book.”

  Everyone looked at Davy, waiting for him to take his turn. He really didn’t want to take a card from Madam Flea. She might not have any eyes, but it felt like something inside her empty head was staring right at him.

  But Davy didn’t want the others to think he was a chicken. He stepped up and pressed the button, then picked up his card.

  What is your name?

  Nia’s eyes widened. “That’s the weirdest fortune I’ve ever heard, Darcy!”

  “I’ve heard weirder,” Jules said. “I’m gonna go try the claw crane. Wanna come?”

  Davy slipped the card into his pocket and glanced over at the claw crane. Among the toys inside, he thought he saw a large, black crab shift slightly.

  “No thanks,” he said. “I think I’ll try skeeball.”

  Finn let out a frightened squeak. The others stared at Davy, mouths open. “Skeeball?” whispered Quincy.

  “Sure,” Davy said, confused. “It’s fun.”

  “Wow,” Nia said, her voice hushed. “You’re really brave.” Earl Grey snuffled softly in agreement.

  Davy stood up a little straighter. “Well, I’m pretty good at it.”

  He was the Jones family champion, actually. The arcade in his old town had been a little smaller than this one (but mold-free). His mom was great at the claw crane, and his dad had loved Whack-a-Mole. The three of them used to have a standing competition to see who could rack up the most tickets.

  “Can we watch?” asked Jules.

  Davy smiled. “Sure!”

  He led the way this time, fishing around in his pockets for change. To his relief, the skeeball lane looked completely normal. There were holes worth ten, twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty points. When he put his coins in—ten coins for ten rounds—ten balls came shooting down the ramp.

  Davy stretched his arms, shook his hands, and wiggled his fingers. Then he picked up the first ball. Keeping his eye on the fifty-point hole, he wound up like a baseball pitcher. His classmates all gasped in unison.

  He held the pose a moment for dramatic effect.

  Then he tossed the ball underhand. It rolled right up the ramp and landed neatly in the fifty-point hole.

  “Yes!” Davy said.

  Then he realized the other kids weren’t looking at him. They were staring in horror at the slot, from which five tickets had just emerged.

  Davy plucked them out. Each one read:

  One Prize Coupon

  SKEEBALL

  Player Must Redeem All Coupons Immediately Upon Finishing Game

  (Or Else)

  Shrugging, Davy shoved the tickets in his pocket. Prizes were fine, but they weren’t his reason for playing skeeball. The joy was in the game.

  Fully aware of his classmates’ eyes on him, Davy picked up the second ball. He wound up carefully and pitched.

  Once again, the ball fell into the fifty-point hole.

  Another five tickets shot out of the slot. This time, Davy ignored them. He landed fifty points with the third ball, fourth ball, and fifth ball, each one earning him another five tickets. He was, as his dad used to say, “in the zone.”

  Sixth ball. Five tickets.

  Seventh. Eighth. Ninth.

  Five more tickets each time.

  Davy wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. He picked up the tenth ball, wound up, and pitched. The ball zipped up the ramp and fell perfectly into the fifty-point hole.

  “Perfect game!” Davy said proudly.

  He looked around to see if his classmates were impressed. Nia’s hands were clamped over her mouth. Quincy and Jules were gaping at the long string of tickets protruding from the slot. Finn was attempting to hide behind Earl Grey. Earl Grey was attempting to hide behind Finn.

  “Wow,” Jules said at last. “How’d you get so good at skeeball, Daisy?”

  “I used to play with…um, all the time.” Davy swallowed. “In my old town.”

  “But now you have to claim your prize,” Quincy told him. “We can’t leave until you do.”

  “I don’t really care about the prize,” Davy said. “You can have it if you want.” He pulled out the string of tickets and held it out.

  The other kids recoiled.

  “Sorry, we can’t,” whispered Quincy. “It has to be you. They’re your tickets.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Davy looked around the arcade until he spotted a booth with a sign reading CLAIM YOUR PRIZE HERE. The rusty gate was closed. “But how?” he asked. “There’s no one there.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Jules led him over to the booth. The others trailed behind. “You really have a lot of tickets. Aren’t you scared?”

  “Scared?” Davy repeated. “No. Why?”

  “The more tickets, the bigger the prize,” Jules said, her eyes wide. She pointed to a slot in the gate. Above it, the counter over a grimy ticket taker
was set to 00. “Go ahead. Slide your tickets in there so it can count them.”

  Feeling more nervous now, Davy fed the string of tickets into the slot. The counter began to tick up. 01. 02. 03. No one spoke as it counted all the way up to 45, then stopped.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then, slowly, creakily, the gate started to rise. Davy held his breath.

  The gate stopped halfway. The darkness inside was so absolute, he couldn’t see a thing. But there was a sound.

  Scuttling. Scratching.

  “What is that?” Davy took a step back. His heart was suddenly pounding very fast.

  Jules put her hand on his shoulder. “Your prize.”

  The scuttle-scratch got louder as the thing inside got closer. Davy swallowed hard.

  “I don’t want a prize,” he said loudly. “I changed my mind.”

  “You have to take it,” Jules told him. “It’s the rules. This is the prize for forty-five tickets.”

  “But…I don’t…”

  Davy’s hands started to shake. Now he could see some sort of movement in the blackness. An unnatural, stilted sort of shifting. “Wait, forty-five? But I had a perfect game!”

  Hastily, Davy located five more tickets in his pocket, the ones he got for the first ball. He hurried forward and fed them into the slot. The shifting and scuttle-scratch stopped as the counter ticked up.

  46. 47. 48. 49. 50.

  For a few seconds, there was silence.

  Then something fell from behind the gate with a soft but heavy plop.

  Davy eyed it suspiciously, but it wasn’t shifting or scratching. It wasn’t moving at all. Finally, he gathered up all his courage, reached out, and touched it.

  It was fuzzy.

  “Oh, a stuffed narwhal!” Nia cried as Davy pulled the toy from under the gate. “And it’s huge! That’s a great prize.”

  With an eager grunt, Earl Grey trotted forward and nuzzled the narwhal. It was nearly as big as he was.

  “Why don’t you keep it?” Davy said, his hands shaking with relief.

  Earl Grey snorted happily. He gently took the stuffed toy between his teeth and trotted back over to Nia.

  “Earl Grey is so well behaved now,” Quincy said. “He could be a show hog.”

  “Thanks!” Nia said, then glanced at Jules. “I might have bought a watch-hog training book after all. Sit, Earl Grey!”

  Earl Grey set down his new toy and sat with perfect posture, snout in the air.

  “I think he really loves that narwhal!” Nia beamed at Davy. “Thank you, Donovan.”

  “You’re welcome,” Davy said.

  He hadn’t felt this happy since moving to Topsea. This arcade was weird and kind of creepy, but he’d still had fun. He’d gone along with what the other kids wanted to do. And he hadn’t mentioned his dad at all.

  Maybe he’d finally figured out the secret to adjusting!

  “Want to play another round?” Jules asked hesitantly.

  Davy shook his head. “No, thanks. That was enough skeeball for one day.” He pulled a few more coins out of his pocket, then grinned at his friends. “Let’s give that pinball ghost a run for its money!”

  THE CARE AND TRAINING OF WATCH HOGS

  (Excerpt from the “Training” section)

  SHAKE

  1. Wear gloves. Hooves can be sharp.

  2. Hold a treat in your closed hand. (A glob of oatmeal works best.)

  3. When the watch hog points at your hand, grab its hoof and yell “Shake!”

  4. Clean up the oatmeal.

  ROLL OVER

  1. Make sure you are not on a slope.

  2. Say “Roll over!” as you twirl your finger around and around and around and around.

  3. Eventually, your watch hog will get so dizzy it rolls over.

  SPEAK

  1. Say “Speak!” and snort, grunt, and squeal as loud as you can.

  2. Do this as often as you can.

  3. Sooner or later, your watch hog should join in. They are quite fond of duets.

  4. But they’re even more fond of choruses! Get your friends to snort, grunt, and squeal, too.

  JUMP THROUGH A HOOP

  1. First, make sure your hoop is larger than your watch hog. (Very important.)

  2. Place a bowl of oatmeal on the ground.

  3. Hold the hoop between your watch hog and the bowl, and say “Jump!” The watch hog should jump through the hoop into the oatmeal.

  4. Hold the hoop higher each time.

  5. Eventually, don’t put any oatmeal in the bowl.

  (Your watch hog will feel a bit betrayed, but will get over it.)

  PLAY DEAD

  Not recommended! Watch hogs are very sensitive. There is no way to train a watch hog to play dead without hurting its feelings.

  SIT ON ROCK CATS

  (This section has been scratched out.)

  NOTIFICATION: (UN)WELCOME TO TOPSEA

  (Posted on the way to Topsea.)

  You are now entering Topsea…

  ATTENTION: ICE-CREAM MAN

  It has been decided (primarily by one very noisy and unrelenting person) (fine, it’s the PTA President) that it is probably best if you don’t visit Topsea anymore.

  Many apologies.

  —Mrs. Josefina (Jo) King, Principal of Topsea School

  (who has fond memories of the ice-cream truck from her own childhood, despite what the Picky Troglodyte Association says)

  Finn tucked a yellow flower behind his ear, smiling at the sky. It was a perfect afternoon in Topsea. Anything was possible.

  “There’s nothing to do,” Nia complained. Earl Grey trotted a couple of feet behind her, teacup dangling from his curly tail.

  “What do you usually do on sunny days?” Davy asked.

  Quincy jotted down Davy’s question in his notebook. “We could go to the beach and look for shells,” he said. “Last time I found a scallop shell. And a peanut shell—”

  “That sounds great!” Davy was already turning toward the beach.

  “Nah, that’s boring,” Jules interrupted.

  Davy turned around again.

  Finn giggled. Usually, he felt hesitant when it came to making suggestions. Especially in front of a group. Especially without Runa at his side—even just her bright, sparkly presence made him feel like the tallest kid in Topsea.

  But today, Finn had a great reason to speak up.

  “I brought my glowball!” he exclaimed, pulling it out of his pocket. One of his older brothers had given it to him. When it bounced, it flashed twelve different neon colors. “We could play handball or something….”

  “How about we look for the ice-cream man?” Jules suggested. “I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  Nia scoffed. “You don’t look for the ice-cream man. You listen for him.”

  “Or catch?” Finn tried.

  “We could go back to the arcade,” Quincy suggested. “Maybe Dwayne could win an even bigger prize this time!”

  “Glowball,” Finn said. “Glowball. Glowball.”

  Davy gulped. “Um, sure, if you guys want to. Maybe we could avoid the fortune-teller, though? I didn’t like the way she was staring at me.”

  “How could she be staring at you?” Jules said. “She doesn’t have any eyes!”

  Finn tried a joke: “Like the rubber ducks!”

  Nobody heard him. Did they even know he was standing there? Sometimes his friends were just as bad as his chaos of older brothers. Finn sighed and stuffed his glowball back in his pocket.

  “Well, standing around here is boring.” Nia dropped to one knee. “Race you to the end of the boardwalk! On your mark, get set…GO!”

  Everybody ran.

  Finn ran, too, even though he hated racing. He always lost. Racing isn’t any fun when you always lose, since there’s no element of surprise. Then again, Nia loved to race, even though she always won. Maybe Finn lost at racing because he thought about racing too much while racing?

  The other kid
s were halfway down the boardwalk when Davy stumbled on an uneven plank. Quincy crashed into him. Earl Grey snorted with laughter. So did Jules. “Hurry up, Donnie!” she shouted. “Or the troll will get you!”

  “Troll?” Davy asked. “Did you say troll?”

  “A troll lives under the boardwalk,” Finn said.

  “A troll lives under the boardwalk!” Jules said.

  Everybody in Topsea knew a troll lived under the boardwalk. Well, supposedly. Nobody had actually met the troll in person, but all the kids were a little bit afraid of him.

  Davy managed to look anxious and skeptical at the same time. “That’s silly. Trolls don’t exist.”

  Nia jumped up and down. “Are you sure about that?” Beside her, Jules jumped up and down even higher.

  THUMP THUMP THUMPITY THUMPITY—

  “HEY!” a voice yelled.

  Finn glanced around. “Did you guys hear that?”

  Nobody heard him. “Aren’t we going to finish our race?” Nia said. “Come on! On your mark, get set…”

  “Oink!” Earl Grey said.

  Giggling, the kids started jogging down the boardwalk again. Finn was about to follow when his glowball slipped from his pocket. “Wait up!” he called, but the other kids kept running.

  Bounce went the ball, flashing neon colors.

  Bounce

  Bounce…

  Finn dove for it, but he was too late. The glowball rolled through a crack in the boardwalk and disappeared.

  “HEY!” the voice yelled again.

  It was coming from under the boardwalk.

  Finn stood there, frozen. He knew trolls didn’t exist, just like Davy had said. Right? Finally, he took a deep breath, crouched down, and peered through the crack in the boardwalk.

  A beady eye stared back at him.

  Finn leaped back. “Ahhh!”

  “HEY!” the voice yelled. “Are you gonna come get your ball, or what?”

  By now, the other kids were shimmering dots at the end of the boardwalk. They hadn’t even noticed Finn wasn’t with them! More than ever, he wished Runa was here. But she wasn’t.

  Finn would have to retrieve his glowball all by himself.