Authors: Brandon Mull
The last of the sun sank below the horizon, and they waited, watching the maroon paste. Insects clicked and rattled in the brush, but no beetles appeared.
“If this doesn’t work,” Nate said, “maybe we can still bag some mushrooms and get some special candy.”
“No way!” Summer said. “I’m not taking advantage of that sweet old lady.”
Pigeon chucked a pebble into the stream. “Besides, would you really want special candy from a woman with delusions about beetle eggs?”
“Good point,” Trevor said. “How long do we wait?”
“Hold on,” Summer said. “Look who just showed up.”
A shiny black beetle crawled over the lip of the tin and began wallowing in the maroon paste.
“Get out the pouch,” Pigeon said.
As Nate opened the pouch, a second beetle joined the first. By the time he sprinkled the fine gray powder on them, a third beetle had appeared. The sprinkled beetles left the paste and wandered toward the mushrooms, and several more took their place in the open shoe polish can. Nate sprinkled the new beetles. One of the beetles scaled a mushroom and began burrowing into it.
“Would you look at that?” Pigeon breathed. “To tell the truth, I didn’t think there was any chance it would actually happen.”
More beetles entered the shoe polish can, and more sprinkled beetles dug their way into nearby mushrooms. “How many do we need?” Nate asked, pinching powder onto the new arrivals.
“We should be fine with these,” Summer said. “But keep sprinkling the newcomers just in case.”
A few more beetles arrived, stragglers, and Nate powdered them. After no new beetles showed up for several minutes, Trevor picked up the can and put on the lid.
The sunset faded. Finally the first beetle emerged from a mushroom, and Summer placed the fungus in a jar. Soon, more beetles crawled out. Before long the kids had a bunch of mushrooms in each jar.
Stars were becoming visible as Summer zipped one jar into her backpack and Trevor tucked the other into his. The kids pedaled quickly down the dirt road, then onto Greenway. The four of them paused where the jogging path met Greenway, the point where Summer would split off from the rest of them.
“Mission accomplished,” Summer said.
Trevor picked at a peeling sticker on the frame of his bike. “Who would have guessed it would actually work?”
“Which means Mrs. White isn’t crazy,” Nate said. “I wonder what her special candy is like?”
“I can’t wait to find out,” Pigeon exclaimed.
“See you guys tomorrow,” Summer said.
They went their separate ways.
*****
When Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon arrived at the candy shop the next day, Mrs. White stood at the register bagging a box of chocolates for a woman in a large red wig. The woman paid and exited the store.
“Well?” Mrs. White asked. “Was last night a success?”
In answer, Summer unzipped her backpack and held up the jar of mushrooms. Trevor did likewise.
“So many?” Mrs. White asked, sounding delighted. “Follow me into the back.” She lifted a hinged segment of the counter, and the kids followed her through the batwing doors into the rear of the store. Barrels and crates dominated the gloomy room. Shelves loaded with bags and cartons and unnamed ingredients lined the walls. Various delicacies were in development on a trio of sizable worktables. Mrs. White escorted the children to a small, square table in the corner covered by a purple embroidered tablecloth. A microscope rested on the table.
Mrs. White unscrewed the lid of one of the jars and removed a mushroom. She sliced into the bulbous fungus with a scalpel, excising a flap of beige matter. Setting the sample on a slide, she peered into her microscope, adjusting the focus knob.
“Well done!” Mrs. White exclaimed, looking up at them. “You four reaped quite a harvest, better than I expected.”
“I have to admit, we had our doubts about whether it would work,” Pigeon said. “We were all impressed.”
“Any rational person would have entertained some doubts,” Mrs. White said. “What matters is that you trusted me enough to successfully carry out my instructions. I could make good use of helpers like yourselves.” She rummaged beneath the table for a moment and came up with a cylindrical aluminum container.
“What’s that?” Pigeon asked.
Mrs. White removed the lid of the container. “Most rock candy is nothing more than crystallized sugar,” she began, removing four translucent chunks from the container. “I call these Moon Rocks. They are magical candy. I do not expect you to immediately believe this. But you will after you try them.”
Nate, Summer, and Trevor shared a look expressing their mutual concern that Mrs. White might be a lunatic after all.
“Find a private place,” Mrs. White suggested. “You will not want to be observed. Just suck the candy. Don’t bother spitting it out to save it for later. Once you spit it out, the candy loses all potency. Biting it can be hazardous. Mark my words—if I am to share magic candy with you, for your own safety and for the well-being of others, you must learn to consume it as directed. Any questions?”
“No bug eggs?” Nate asked.
“No bug eggs,” Mrs. White confirmed.
“Are you giving us drugs?” Pigeon asked warily.
Mrs. White stroked his head gently. “Why, of course not. Drugs are a terrible menace! What kind of person would I be to disguise drugs as candy and give them to children? I certainly would not be in business long! But I’m glad you’re on the lookout—there are unsavory characters in the world. This is a candy shop. Some of my candy is very special. Unique in all the world, in fact, and capable of astounding things. Give the Moon Rocks a try. Like the beetles, you’ll find it much easier to believe me after you put my words to the test. Find a quiet place. Suck, don’t bite. Or don’t try them, if you prefer. Now I must get back to minding the store and preparing goodies. Thank you for your help. If you enjoy the candy, please come visit me again.”
Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon each accepted a Moon Rock and let Mrs. White usher them out of the store.
*****
Near the creek below Monroe Circle was a roomy hollow canopied by five trees and sheltered by barriers of prickly undergrowth. There were only two ways in, and both were tricky to see. One required crawling. Four of the trees were quite good for climbing. The largest tree had huge, winding roots that grew out of the steep bank above the creek. The gnarled roots made for a superb emergency hiding place. This secluded hollow was the hideout of the Blue Falcons. They called it the Nest.
Summer crawled into the Nest, followed by Trevor, Pigeon, and Nate. Once inside, they stood in a circle, all still holding the sugar crystals Mrs. White had given them. “Who’s going to try it first?” Nate asked.
“You’re the newest member of the club,” Summer replied.
“So I get to pick? Okay . . . Trevor.”
“I think she meant you should try the candy first,” Trevor clarified.
“What do you think it does?” Pigeon asked.
“Nothing,” Summer said. “But I hope it tastes good.”
“She sounded pretty convinced they were magical,” Pigeon said hopefully. “And she was right about the beetles.”
Trevor held up his Moon Rock, studying it. “I wonder what happens if we bite them?”
“I bet our heads will explode,” said Nate. He looked around the circle; the others were all watching him with expectant looks on their faces. “Okay, I’ll do it first.” He popped the Moon Rock into his mouth.
“Feel any different?” Pigeon asked eagerly.
“A little,” Nate said. “Sort of tingly. It tastes really good. I almost feel . . .”
He moved to take a step and floated up into the air. He rose slowly, his feet reaching the height of Trevor’s eyes before he drifted downward to land gently on the ground.
“ . . . lighter,” Nate finished, bewildered.
They stared at each other in awed silence.
“They really are magical,” Pigeon finally murmured.
Nate tried a little hop, and this time he glided over Summer’s head, landing softly on the other side of her. He could almost have reached some of the overhanging branches of the trees. “It’s like I’m on the moon,” Nate said. “You know, the way the astronauts look on TV, bouncing around in low gravity.”
“Moon Rocks,” Trevor said. “I want to try.” He stuck his candy into his mouth and jumped hard. He launched up into the limbs of the tree above, catching hold of one to stop his ascent. “Whoa!” he called from his lofty perch. “It felt like I was heading into orbit.”
“I’m not sure
Moon Rocks
is the right name,” Pigeon said, examining his piece of crystallized sugar. “The gravity on the moon is roughly one-sixth that of earth. Which means you could jump six times higher there than you could here. But that branch is more than six times higher than Trevor can jump. And he was still heading up when he caught hold.”
“And you say you’re not a brain?” Nate said.
“I just like books about space,” Pigeon apologized.
“How do I get down?” Trevor asked. “This is freaky.”
“Just drop,” Pigeon said. “Since you jumped up there, it should feel no worse than falling a couple of feet.”
“I don’t know,” Trevor fretted. “What if it stops working? I could break my legs.”
Taking aim, Nate jumped toward the branch Trevor was clutching. He did not jump with everything he had, just a solid leap. He glided up through the air, feeling almost weightless. As he reached the apex of his trajectory, Nate came alongside Trevor and caught hold of the same limb.
“Watch,” Nate said, letting go and floating to the ground, gradually gaining a little speed. He landed just hard enough to make his knees bend a little. Trevor let go of the branch and landed the same way.
“You guys
have
to try this,” Trevor said.
“Maybe we should save ours,” Summer said. “They might come in handy when we’re out on adventures.”
“Mrs. White acted like we could get more,” Pigeon reminded her.
“For how much?” Summer replied. “A billion dollars?”
“Just try it,” Nate urged. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
Summer’s eyes hardened and she stuck the Moon Rock into her mouth. Pigeon did likewise. They both took a few experimental leaps. Pigeon could not stop giggling. Nate and Trevor bounded around as well.
“What if the candy really is drugs?” Pigeon asked. “What if we only think we’re jumping really high because our minds are warped?”
“You saw me jumping high before you tried the Moon Rock,” Nate pointed out.
“Oh, yeah,” Pigeon said.
“Over here,” Summer called. She stood at the brink of the steep bank above the creek. The others loped over to her with long, slow-motion strides. “Who wants to jump it?”
At this point the bank of the creek was more than ten feet high. The far bank was lower, and almost thirty feet away. “Your idea,” Nate said.
“I do everything first,” she complained.
“I tried the candy first,” Nate pointed out.
“Think I could get a running start?” she asked.
“You’d have to back up,” Nate said. “You could take a few steps if you pace yourself.”
“But carefully,” Trevor said. “If you misjudge, you could drift right into the water.”
“If you fall, be careful how you land,” Pigeon warned. “It will only feel like you fell a little ways, but the creekbed is rocky.”
Summer took a pair of long, low strides away from the creek and turned around. Keeping low, she started forward, pushing off tentatively with the first step, then much more forcefully with the second. Landing about four feet shy of the edge, she pushed off with all she had, soaring upward in a smooth, mild arc. She easily cleared the creekbed and had to fend off small branches before catching hold of a tree limb on the far bank. Letting go, she drifted to the ground. “Easy!” she challenged.
Duplicating the strategy Summer had used, Trevor took two steps, but he leapt from the edge more gently and landed ten feet beyond the far bank, stumbling slightly. Nate copied Trevor and landed in almost the same spot.
“I don’t know,” Pigeon said, staring down at the water.
“It’s no sweat, Pidge,” Trevor said.
“I don’t know,” Pigeon repeated.
“Go for it,” Nate said.
“Okay, okay.” Instead of backing up for a running start, Pigeon squatted and sprang, keeping his feet together. He rose very high but had little forward momentum. After he reached the zenith of his flight, his speed lazily increased as he descended toward the center of the shallow creek.
Summer crouched and sprang, moving low and relatively swiftly on a course to intercept Pigeon. They glided past each other, just out of reach. Pigeon hit the water with a splash and ended up on his backside. Summer had not jumped very high, so she hit the side of the far bank. Pushing off from the dirt wall, she drifted back over the creek to land near Nate. Pigeon spat out his candy and waded out of the creek, his soaked jeans a much darker blue.