Arcade and the Dazzling Truth Detector Read online

  Books by Rashad Jennings

  The IF in Life

  THE COIN SLOT CHRONICLES SERIES

  Book 1: Arcade and the Triple T Token

  Book 2: Arcade and the Golden Travel Guide

  Book 3: Arcade and the Fiery Metal Tester

  Book 4: Arcade and the Dazzling Truth Detector

  ZONDERKIDZ

  Arcade and the Dazzling Truth Detector

  Copyright © 2020 by Rashad Jennings, LLC

  Illustrations © 2020 by Rashad Jennings

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Zonderkidz, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Jennings, Rashad, 1985-author. | Osborne, Jill, 1961-author.

  Title: Arcade and the dazzling truth detector / Rashad Jennings; with Jill Osborne.

  Description: Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zonderkidz, 2020. | Series: The coin slot chronicles; 4 | Audience: Ages 8 & Up. | Summary: The Triple T Token takes Arcade and Zoe Livingston to the highest, lowest, deepest, coldest, and hottest places on Earth and to some of the greatest moments in history, leading them on a whirlwind journey to discover themselves and the secrets of the Triple T Token.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2020013503 (print) | LCCN 2020013504 (ebook) | ISBN 9780310767442 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780310767497 (epub)

  Subjects: CYAC: Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Brothers and sisters—Fiction. | Voyages and travels—Fiction. | Magic—Fiction. | African Americans—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.J4544 Al 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.J4544 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020013503

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020013504

  * * *

  Epub Edition June 2020 9780310767497

  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.Zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Any internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Zonderkidz is a trademark of Zondervan.

  Illustrated by: Alan Brown

  Art direction: Cindy Davis

  Interior design: Denise Froehlich

  Printed in the United States of America

  * * *

  20212223242526272829/LSC/10987654321

  This book is dedicated to my dad—the late ALBERT O. JENNINGS.

  My dad, the patriarch of my family, Albert Jennings, has gone home to be with the Lord. Though I know I’ll see him again, I’ll miss his laughter. We became so close that whenever he was very tired, and Mom needed to get his attention, she’d just mention my name and he’d light right up! Yet despite the wonderfully close relationship he and I had, there will always be one thing I’ll remember most. You see, Dad was a man’s man with a gruff exterior. He was never a hand-holder. But a few days before his passing, when I was last at his bedside, we hugged and shook hands as always. But that last time, he literally took my hand and held it tightly for five minutes! In that moment, I made special promises to him that I will forever keep. It was like he knew it would be our last time together in this life. Dad went to heaven at 1:24 am ET, March 1st, which in LA was 10:24 pm PT, February 29th (Leap Day). I’ll always remember Leap Day, because throughout his life, my dad made so many courageous leaps for us!

  And now, my dad has made one final leap, out of this life

  and into the waiting arms of the Lord in heaven. I won’t wish

  him happy travels—he has arrived! Dad . . . Wish me happy

  travels! By God’s grace, I’ll be there with you, someday!

  I love you, Dad, with all my heart.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Whack Attack

  Chapter 2: Strange Smells

  Chapter 3: Seeing the Light

  Chapter 4: The Beginning

  Chapter 5: It’s my Bir—

  Chapter 6: Library Hunt

  Chapter 7: Big Surprises

  Chapter 8: The First-EST

  Chapter 9: New York City—A Speed Tour

  Chapter 10: Tired Morning

  Chapter 11: Volleyball Villain

  Chapter 12: Elena Salva-DOR Castro

  Chapter 13: Wide-EST

  Chapter 14: Bottom-Feeders

  Chapter 15: Dodging

  Chapter 16: Long-EST

  Chapter 17: Ancient Greece in Reykjavík?

  Chapter 18: Eye Chart

  Chapter 19: The Truth Is . . .

  Chapter 20: O Mortal

  Chapter 21: High-EST

  Chapter 22: Back in the Trash

  Chapter 23: Nor’easter

  Chapter 24: Why’d You Do It?

  Chapter 25: Arcadia

  Chapter 26: The One

  Chapter 27: -ESTS

  Chapter 28: Deep-EST

  Chapter 29: Friday Morning Freak-Out

  Chapter 30: The Decision Maker

  Chapter 31: Where Do I Sign?

  Chapter 32: Arcade Con

  Chapter 33: February Twenty-Second

  Chapter 34: February Twenty-Third

  Chapter 35: Badger Showdown

  Chapter 36: The Golden Dome

  Chapter 37: TRUTH

  Arcade and the Dazzling Truth Detector Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Theo! Son! Where are you? It is time to get back to work.” Theo Timon Theros sat where he always did during his short afternoon break—on the outside stone window ledge, staring at the mighty Greek arches in the distance, sketching.

  “Theo! There you are!” Theo’s father huffed and puffed after climbing the steep stairs from the workshop. He raised a hand toward the sky. “How many times can you sketch the same scene?”

  Infinity.

  Theo had to tear his eyes away from the parchment to answer his father. “Please, may I have a longer break today, since it is my birthday?”

  Theo’s father, Ergon Theros, the most skilled and, therefore, busiest metalworker in town, grumbled. “Too much rest invites poverty.”

  “But I’m not resting. I’m . . . imagining possibilities.” Theo dropped his head and traced the reed pen over the lines in his drawing.

  “Well, then, bring your imagination down to the metal shop and see if it is possible for you to finish today’s project. We will celebrate your birthday this evening. Your mother is helping the servants prepare your favorite dish.” Theo’s father moved in closer and took Theo’s sketch from his hands. He held it up to compare it to the architecture in the distance. “This dra
wing looks nothing like an arcade. See, you’ve squared off the arches.” Ergon sighed loudly. “This looks more like three Ts joined together.”

  Theo grinned, gathered his sketching materials, and followed his father downstairs to the workshop. A new, unforged piece of metal sat at his workstation. Theo picked up the lump, flipping it upside-down and back over, inspecting it.

  This is the best we have.

  He carefully placed it back on the workbench and faced his father with wide eyes.

  “Where is the other piece I was working on?”

  Theo’s father turned his head slightly toward his son. “Next year you will turn thirteen. What kind of father would I be if I did not bestow a generous gift on the last birthday of your childhood?”

  Theo rested both hands on the workbench and stared at the metal. “I do not understand. This is a gift?”

  Ergon Theros walked over and placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “You said you were imagining possibilities. Well, what would you imagine for this little lump of metal? It is yours to shape however you choose. Happy birthday, Theo Timon Theros.”

  Theo breathed in deeply, his father’s hand heavy on his shoulder. This piece of metal represented profit for the family. For his father to give that up was a strong gesture of love from the often serious and frugal man.

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “You are welcome, my son.” Theo’s father lifted his hand and returned to his projects on the other workbench.

  Theo spoke without looking up, his voice cracking slightly. “And when would be a proper time for me to work on it?”

  Ergon tipped his head in Theo’s direction, and the sides of his mouth pulled up in a grin.

  “You may work on it this afternoon only. Quickly now, before the birthday magic fades.” He shook his head and took a mallet to his own project.

  Theo struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. His eyes filled up, clouding his vision, but he willed himself not to blink.

  He’s allowing me to create. But just this one day.

  He grabbed his parchment and carefully examined the drawing. The one his father thought was a mis-sketched row of arches.

  He took a deep breath . . . gathered the metal and his tools . . . and headed to the heating vat.

  Happy birthday, Theo Timon Theros.

  He always thought it odd that all his names began with T.

  Now I see.

  CHAPTER 1

  Whack Attack

  On January twenty-first, everyone in my life turned weird. Except Doug Baker—my best friend and now foster brother—who normally is weird, turned normal.

  “Dude, I have a list of things I need to pick up at the market. I’ll catch you later.” Doug and I were walking home from school on our favorite path through Central Park.

  “The market? Since when do you go to the market?” I adjusted the straps on my flamingo backpack, tightening it on my back. “You know what, seventh grade books are heavy!”

  “Hey, Tolleys!” Doug yelled to a couple of big shadows following behind us on the path. “Can Arcade walk home with you guys? I gotta go to the market.”

  Kevin and Casey Tolley, our “friendly” neighborhood bully brothers, picked up the pace, and when they reached me and Doug, they gave us fist bumps.

  Weird!

  “Oh, yeah. He can walk with us. We’ve been wanting to talk with you anyway, Arcade.”

  “Yeah.” The Tolley twin on the left grinned a little, revealing his chipped tooth. That would be Casey. “We were wondering, Arcade, if you could come to the . . . uh . . . Ivy Park Library with us tomorrow. We wanna start research for our persuasive essays, and you could help us find some good books.”

  “You guys want to go to the library to start a school project on a Saturday? You’re messin’ with me, right?”

  I stared at them through my narrowed eyes. These boys could not be the real Tolleys. They must have had their bodies snatched by aliens or something.

  “We were thinking of goin’ at two o’clock,” the other one—Kevin—said. “Do you know if the library is open on Saturdays?”

  I swung my head around, looking for Doug. But he was outta there.

  “Well? What do you say, Arcade?” Casey crossed his arms and stepped back. “I know the project isn’t due for a month, but we wanna get a jump on it.”

  I scanned the Central Park lawn. “You dudes seen a spaceship anywhere?”

  “Huh?” Casey and Keven both grunted out.

  I shook my head and held back a laugh. “Never mind. Yeeeeeah . . . okay, sure, I’ll go. I gotta be back early though. I have plans with the fam.”

  I didn’t know for sure if I had plans with my family, but tomorrow was my twelfth birthday. No one had actually mentioned my birthday yet. Mom and Dad had been extra busy with their jobs, and my sister, Zoe, had been swamped with homework. But none of them ever forgot a birthday.

  “We appreciate the help, Arcade.” Casey walked beside me and pulled a bag of chocolate chip cookies out of a brown bag. “Want one? These are your favorite, right?”

  The only thing that could make this day weirder would be . . .

  “Arcade! There you are! How was school?”

  It was my sister. She had climbed up the stairs out of the subway station. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, as usual.

  “ZOE!” I grabbed both sides of my head. “What happened? Did you get attacked by an old mop? It seems to have taken over your head.”

  I waited for some sassy reply about my body odor or my pea-sized brain. But Zoe just smoothed her hand through her ponytail and smiled.

  “Yeah, it was quite a fight, but I found some good conditioner. So, I’m good. How was your day, dear brother? I hope it was great.”

  Oh, no!

  If I couldn’t get a rise out of my sister when I made fun of her hair, then the whole world had gone whack.

  CHAPTER 2

  Strange Smells

  Loopy! Come here, boy!” I dropped my backpack and held out both hands, ready for my chocolate-colored Shih-poo, Loopy, to run down the stairs, jump into my arms, and drool me up. Like usual.

  “Loopy?”

  Nothing. No panting, jumping, or drooling. No Loopy!

  Goosebumps covered my arms as I thought back to last fall when Loopy disappeared for a couple of months. In the Internet.

  “LOOPY!” I ran to the kitchen, expecting to find him with his head in his dog dish.

  Nope.

  “Zoe! Loopy’s gone!”

  Zoe placed her backpack on the dining room table, strolled into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a flavored water. “He’s not in there.” She closed the door, unscrewed the cap, and took a few gulps. She came over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, bro. Loopy’s probably hiding upstairs waiting for you to take a shower.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing at school lately, but it’s got you smelling kinda . . . ripe.”

  Okay, now that’s more like my sister.

  I sniffed my underarm and cringed. “We’ve been playing volleyball in last period P.E. I’ve been sweating every day inside our hot gym in the middle of winter! Plus, I’m almost twelve, ya know. Sweat glands are working overtime.”

  Zoe didn’t even crack a smile when I dropped the subtle birthday hint.

  “Volleyball, huh? That’s cool. What’s your specialty? Setting, digging, or spiking?”

  I shook my head. “I’m pretty much the person who wipes up the floor, since I’m always down there.”

  “Diving for the ball?”

  “I’d call it more like tripping and falling after the ball. Casey Tolley keeps sticking his foot out in front of me. We’re supposed to be on the same team.”

  “Do you want me to talk to Michael about it?”

  “NO! That would make it worse.”

  Michael Tolley is Zoe’s new boyfriend. He’s the older brother of Kevin and Casey, and he obviously sapped all
the nice genes out of the family when he was born.

  Zoe shrugged. “Okay, then. Don’t say I never tried to help.”

  I grabbed a sports drink out of the refrigerator. “And on Monday, they’re mixing us up with the girls’ P.E. class. We’re playing in a tournament.”

  Zoe grinned. “Sounds like more humiliation is on the way for you.”

  “Well, at least I’ll have a fun birthday weekend to look back on when I’m wiping up the floor.”

  Zoe ignored my comment and finished chugging her flavored water. “Mom and Dad will be home soon. I should get going on my homework.”

  “But it’s Friday. You’ve got all weekend.”

  Zoe picked up her backpack and swung it over her shoulders. “You middle-schoolers clearly have no idea just how much work high school is.” She waved and headed for the stairs. “Au revoir, mon frère!”

  I reached my hands out. “But . . . Loopy! And remember tomorrow’s my birthd—”

  Just then, Doug blasted through the front door. “Arcade! I’m the MAN! I got everything I needed ON SALE! Not only am I the Food Dude, I got real shopping skills! CHA-CHING! Boy, aren’t you glad I’m gonna be your brother.”

  Doug hoisted his shopping bag onto the counter.

  My stomach growled. “Are you making dinner tonight?”

  Doug tilted his head. “Am I making dinner tonight?’

  “That’s what I said.”

  He reached in the bag and pulled out some flour. “Nah. I got a food project.”

  “Are you making me a cake?” I asked with a little wiggle of my eyebrows.

  “A cake?”

  “Yeah, a cake.”

  He pulled out a bag of sugar. “Why would I make you a cake?” He leaned forward and sniffed. “Are you cooking dinner? Cause you smell like onions.”

  I raised my arms. “No onions. You can thank volleyball for the smell.”