Arcade and the Fiery Metal Tester Read online

  “Got any marshmallows?” I asked. Zoe smacked me in the arm.

  “I’m not ready for this, and you’re delirious from heat. Let’s ignore it. Please.”

  “Zoe. I feel like I’m going to explode! That’s a little difficult to ignore! And you know that the doors—”

  I didn’t have to finish, because the elevator doors materialized right in front of us in the carriage. They were gold, with orange and red flames projecting on them as if they were a movie screen. A golden coin slot popped out of the middle.

  “We gotta go,” I said to Zoe. “You know we gotta go.”

  Zoe buried her head in her hands. “Where? Where to this time?”

  I stood, licked my fingers, and reached for the fiery token. I pulled it off the chain. “I don’t know. I never know. But if it works the same way it always does, Elijah won’t miss us at all.”

  Zoe gathered her backpack and stood up. “Ugggggh. I hope there’s drinking water where we’re going.”

  I carefully placed the token in the coin slot and jumped back when there was a loud POP! The doors opened. A cool breeze from air-conditioning hit our faces. Two large water bottles sat on a small table in the middle of the elevator.

  “Hmm. Looks like it heard you, Zoe.” I stepped in. My sister followed. I grabbed a water bottle off the table, twisted the cap off, and gulped down the icy water. “Ahhhh. Refreshing.”

  Zoe reached for her bottle, but as she did, the doors closed, and the elevator lurched, knocking it off the table. And then the car plummeted.

  “AHHHHHHHHHHHH! HOLD ON, ARCADE!”

  “HOLD ON TO WHAT?” I dropped to the floor. The elevator jerked up and down. Loud noises that sounded like we were in a construction zone assaulted my ear drums. Dust seeped in through the crack between the doors. Zoe and I covered our mouths with our hands.

  “Are we going underground?” Zoe’s eyes grew wide as the sounds got louder and the jerking grew stronger. She crawled to the back corner of the elevator, bracing herself. “It’s getting hot in here, Arcade!”

  The elevator shook and shook. More dirt filled the air.

  “I’ve always wanted to dig to China!” I shouted.

  Zoe was lying on her back, wiping dirt out of her eyes. Glitter sparks flew out of the elevator vents, but when they came into contact with our skin, they turned to cool water droplets.

  “This is DOPE!” I collected some drops in my hand and splashed my face with them.

  “This is nothing to be excited about, Arcade.” Zoe scowled as she tried to smooth her damp hair. “I better not have to meet any new people looking like this.”

  The car continued its dig for a few more minutes, and finally came to a stop. The dust and glitter settled on the elevator floor, creating a shimmery sludge.

  “I wonder where we are?” I sat up and wiped my glasses with the bottom of my T-shirt.

  “I don’t know.” Zoe stood up and brushed glitter off her knees. “But I bet it’s not 88th Street.”

  Chapter 5

  Welcome to Beijing

  It’s a little cooler here. But . . . .

  Where is here?

  Zoe and I grab our water bottles and step out of the elevator. We’re indoors, sort of. There are solid walls on one side, large windows on the other. I can see trees, wooden structures, and rocks on the other side of the windows.

  “Looks like some kind of exhibit,” Zoe says. She points to some signs on the walls that are filled with artistic symbols. They look Chinese.

  A group of dark-haired children rush by us with three adults following close behind. And they all look Chinese.

  I pump my fist. “YAAASSSSSS! We’re in China!”

  Zoe puts her finger to her lips. “Shhh. Don’t act so surprised. We don’t want to look suspicious!”

  “We just jackhammered our way here from New York City. Embrace it, Zoe, we are suspicious.”

  Zoe grabs my wrist and pulls me into a corner of the exhibit. “Investigate. But try not to act so . . . so . . .”

  “Different?”

  “No.”

  “Excited?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “Try not to act so weird.” Zoe shakes her head and walks out in front of me. I follow her, watching out the window at all times. Investigating. We round a corner and see a large group of excited people huddled up against the window, staring out.

  Zoe moves in for a closer look, and then jumps back and stuffs the heel of her hand in her mouth. She squeals.

  “And you just told me not to be weird?”

  Her eyes are huge. She points. “PANDAS. ARCADE, LOOK AT THE PANDAS.”

  I turn and look.

  “Zoe, those are giant pandas.”

  She takes her hand out of her mouth. “I know that, genius.” Then she puts her hand back in and squeals again. “They’re exquisite!”

  I watch the two giant pandas rolling around and munching greenery. “Yeah, they’re definitely fun to watch. But if you ask me, flamingos are much more entertaining.”

  A bunch of kids in matching school uniforms pass by us. One of the girls drops a paper on the floor. She tries to stop and get it but is bumped by a bigger boy, who rushes her forward. When the stampede disappears, I pick the paper up. It’s a map with pictures of animals all over it. There are some Chinese symbols at the top. But there is also some English that indicates our location.

  “Where are we?” Zoe crowds in next to me, crunching the map.

  “Can’t you tell? Look around! We’re at the BEIJING ZOO.” I search the map for our location and tap my finger near the center. “We’re here. At the panda house.” A bright blotch of color on the map catches my eye. I trace a line with my finger from the picture of the panda to the blotch.

  “The flamingos aren’t far from here. Looks like they have them in an enclosed aviary.”

  Zoe rips the paper from my hand. “Why do you need to see flamingos in China? You can see flamingos in any zoo. You can’t always see giant pandas!”

  I stare right at her. “I like flamingos better. Plus, I have a feeling I’m supposed to be there.”

  I don’t wait for Zoe to give permission. I pull the map out of her hands and follow the directions out of the panda house.

  Zoe sighs. “Okay, but then we’re coming right back here!” She reaches in her backpack for her phone and attempts to take a picture of one of the pandas. She shakes it and then shoves it in her shorts pocket. “My phone never works on these Triple T adventures. Ugh!”

  * * *

  The door to the aviary has a sign on it with Chinese symbols I can’t read.

  Oh, well. I know what’s in here.

  I reach for the handle and pull the heavy thing open. A family enters in behind me and Zoe. When the teenager at the end of the line doesn’t close the door all the way, her dad shouts, points to the sign, and pulls the door shut.

  “Come on, Zoe, this way!” I follow a sign with an arrow that shows a picture of an orange bird with a crooked beak and very long, uncoordinated-looking legs.

  We turn the corner . . . and there they are.

  “Look, Zoe! A flamboyance of flamingos.” I jostle her with my elbow.

  She rolls her eyes. “You mean a flock of flamingos.”

  “The technical term is flamboyance.”

  “I didn’t know you were into technical terms.”

  “I am when they suit the situation. These birds are show offs. Totally flamboyant. Can’t you see that?”

  Zoe tilts her head while watching. “You should know.” Then she points to a few smaller white ones hanging out by the water’s edge. “The young ones are fascinating.”

  “Yep. They get their color around one year old. They’re not as flamboyant yet.”

  Zoe looks up into the trees in the aviary and grins. “Okay, this is pretty cool. I bet there are some birds here that we can’t see at home. But I wonder why the token brought us here?”

  “Who knows?” I think a min
ute. “Hey, Zoe, did I just daydream this, or did I say the word flamingo right before the token caught fire?”

  Zoe’s eyes shift right, left, then down. “Yeah, you did. You weren’t making sense. I thought you were about to faint.”

  “I was going to faint. The canopy was spinning, and my thoughts were all mushy. I don’t know why I said flamingo.”

  “You were probably thinking about your backpack.”

  “I was.”

  We listen for a few seconds as some of the flamingos squawk and march around with their necks stretched out.

  “Hey, Zoe . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think that—”

  “What?”

  “Do you think that maybe I controlled the token this time? I mean, I said the word flamingo, and here we are.”

  Zoe turns toward me, grabs both my shoulders, and shudders. “Lord help us if you start controlling the token.”

  I pull her hands off me. “Why? What would be wrong with that? I’d take us to some great places if I were in control.”

  “Hey!” Zoe points toward one of the young, white flamingos trotting over to the water’s edge. It hops up on the trail and starts walking—fast.

  “Whoa! That’s an adventurous one. I’ve never seen a flamingo leave its flock before.”

  “You mean, it’s flamboyance, don’t you, Arcade?”

  “Hey, he’s really moving out! Let’s follow him! Come here, little guy! You’re supposed to be wading in this water over here!”

  The little white flamingo flaps its wings and picks up speed toward the exit to the aviary, just as the family with the teenager decides to leave. The dad is in the front of the line this time, so he doesn’t notice the teenager leaving the door propped open. Again!

  “Oh, no! It’s moving toward the open door! Hurry up, Zoe!” We pick up the pace.

  “Hey, flamingo! Flamey! Flames! Get back here! Don’t follow them!” I yell, but the determined flamingo charges for the door. “ESCAAAAAAAPPPE!” I yell at the top of my lungs and have visions of the little flamingo running into another exhibit and getting eaten by a tiger or crushed under an elephant’s foot.

  The awkward bird shoots out the door. Then he takes a few running steps, flaps his wings, and begins to fly low to the ground.

  “Catch him, Arcade!” Zoe and I run down the pathway after the flamingo, who finally tires and lands near a bench. I kick into high gear, and as I come closer, he turns to me, and lets out a loud, high-pitched, SQUAWK!

  I laugh and grab him up in my arms. “Flames, you gotta get back into the bird house. There are wild animals out here.” I have never held a flamingo, and I hope he won’t try to take a chunk out of my nose with his beak.

  Zoe catches up to us, breathing hard. “Unbelievable, Arcade! Leave it to you to go on a bird chase in China.” She stops for a minute and pets the flamingo’s soft, white feathers.

  SQUAWK!!!!!

  Zoe pulls her hand away and steps back. “Hey, don’t complain to me, bird. You’re the one who escaped your home.” Zoe looks around. “We better put him back, Arcade.”

  A few curious kids surround us, and I have to push through them to get back on the path to the aviary. They reach out to pet the flamingo, but I pull him in tight and shake my head. “He’s trembling. We have to get him back to his house.”

  Suddenly, I hear a deep voice, yelling something in Chinese. Zoe’s eyes widen as she points behind me. I turn my head to see three adults in zookeeper uniforms, jogging toward me.

  “Oh, man, we’re busted!!” I run toward the doors of the aviary, which now look like they’re on fire. Swirling, snapping pieces of orange and red glitter rise up from the ground. I swallow hard.

  “NOOOOOOO! Not NOW! I have to get this little guy back . . .”

  I feel a clunk on my chest. The Triple T Token has returned. I pick up speed toward the door. The zookeepers’ shouts are louder now. I consider turning around and trying to explain, but what would I say? I don’t speak Chinese! By the time I reach the door to the aviary, a mini tornado of glitter is blocking the entrance. A golden coin slot pokes out through the storm.

  “Zoe! The token is calling us back!” The flamingo squawks and hooks his neck around my upper arm, like he’s trying to hang on.

  “Arcade! See if you can open the aviary door and throw him in!” Zoe, who is now standing next to me covered in swirling glitter, gestures toward the door.

  I reach out as far as I can, but my hand runs into a different kind of door. Golden elevator doors. The coin slot pulses, and the token singes my skin.

  “Ouch!” I pull the token from under my shirt with my free hand. “I’m sorry, Flames, I gotta go.” I look into the flamingo’s eyes and, for a second, I think he understands me. “As soon as someone opens the door, you fly in and get back to your family, okay?”

  I put him down on the ground, and he’s immediately covered in glitter. “Take care, adventurous one,” I say. I grab the token and it comes off in my hand, just like all the other times.

  “Zoe! Are you here?” I can’t see a thing because my glasses are plastered with orange and red glitter. She grabs my hand.

  “YES. Let’s go, Arcade! NOW!!!”

  I reach out and move my hand around until it bumps into the slot. I drop the token in and the doors, which are now right in front of the aviary, open.

  “Hold on!”

  Zoe tumbles into the elevator and stays balled up on the ground. I do the same as the doors close and the elevator begins its jack-hammering—UP this time!

  * * *

  It’s a shaky ride. Dusty too. Thankfully the air conditioning is going again, and another pair of icy-cold water bottles rolls around on the floor.

  Several minutes later, when the dust finally clears, we’re sitting back in Elijah’s pedicab in Central Park. I recognize him in the distance, purchasing some water bottles from a street vendor. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that soon we’ll be relaxing in our brownstone on 88th Street.

  But then I hear it.

  Squawk! Squawk!

  We have a stowaway. All the way from the Beijing Zoo.

  Chapter 6

  Squawking Bike

  Zoe jumped up off the pedicab seat. “Arcade! What was that noise?”

  I looked down at my feet. Gulp. Flames the flamingo had his little fluffy neck wrapped around my calf.

  “Ummmm . . . that was the sound of this flamingo.” I lifted up my foot to show Zoe.

  She grabbed her head with her hands. “NO! No, no, no, no, no! This can’t be happening. We don’t bring things back! That’s not how it works!”

  I held a finger up in the air. “Well, there was that one time, after the rodeo, when I found your clown nose in the side pocket of your backpack.”

  Zoe closed her eyes while rubbing both her temples. “A squishy red clown nose is NOT a live flamingo!”

  I reached down and smoothed the little guy’s feathers. He was shaking, holding on tight to me with his neck. He was still covered with orange glitter, making him look like a grown up, more flamboyant flamingo.

  “Aww, he must be so scared. That elevator ride was really bumpy this time.” I reached down, pried him off my leg, and set him on my lap. “It’s okay, buddy. I got you.”

  By this time, Elijah was making his way back to the pedicab with the water bottles.

  “Arcade, you have to hide him!” Zoe pulled her backpack off her shoulder and unzipped it. “Put him in here.”

  I looked in the black hole filled with Zoe’s girl things. “But it’s hot in there. And he won’t be able to breathe with all your perfumed lotions.”

  Zoe shook her backpack at me. “He’s a tropical bird. He’ll be fine! And we’ll leave the top unzipped.” She glanced over at Elijah, who was now talking to another pedicab tour guide. “Hurry! It’s probably against the law or something to have a flamingo in New York City!”

  I took the trembling bird in my hands. “Okay, Flames, this will just be f
or a little while. Try to stay quiet.” I put my finger to my lips and looked in his eyes. “I got you.” Then I lifted him up and placed him feet first in the backpack. I set it on the floor of the cab. “Hang in there, adventurous one. You’re about to go for a ride through Central Park.”

  * * *

  “This will cool you off.” Elijah held out a cold water bottle to both me and Zoe. He dried his wet hands on his pants, and then jumped on his pedicab bike seat.

  “And now, we go for the snow cones.” He turned the handlebars and began pedaling north on the trail toward Bethesda Terrace.

  I cracked open the water bottle and took a sip.

  Squawk!

  Elijah jumped and turned around. I pretended to choke on my water and threw in a snort and a burp to cover for Flames.

  “Is everything okay, Mr. Arcade? You sounded like a taxi cab horn just now.”

  I laughed nervously. “Yes, I’m fine.” I coughed and burped again, just for effect.

  Zoe slapped me on the back. “Please, excuse my brother. He gulps when he drinks, takes in too much air, and then . . . well . . . you know. The burping around our house can be deafening.”

  Elijah laughed. I glanced down at Flames. The backpack was rocking gently, and he looked pretty comfortable in it. I reached down and patted his head.

  “Elijah,” Zoe said, “would it be okay if we took a rain check on the snow cones? It was a very nice offer, but we’re really tired, and this water is cooling us down just fine.”

  Elijah turned left on the path. “Of course, Miss Zoe. I am happy to take you straight home. The flavored ice will be there for a few more weeks, and then we will require hot chocolate to get through the chilly fall and freezing winter days.” Elijah popped up off his seat and pumped hard on the pedals to make it up a slight hill going toward our neighborhood. By the time he got to the top, he was breathing hard.

  “Which season do you like the best here for biking, Elijah?” I couldn’t imagine pedaling people around the park in hot or cold weather.

  Elijah thought for a long while before answering. “Every season has its challenges. The summer can be too hot, the winter terribly cold. The fall is windy, so it fights me on the bike, and in the spring, well, that is terrible allergy season for me.”