The Quirks, Welcome to Normal (6 page)

When Grandpa lost control, it felt to Molly like the world was on a roller coaster that couldn’t figure out if it wanted to go up or down. She could feel Crazy Ed’s hopping through
time, skipping and jumping five seconds forward and back every time Grandpa went
hiccup
.

Hiccup!

No one else in the restaurant understood
exactly
what was happening, but everyone started to get unexplainably woozy as Grandpa did a time dance. When time was flipped five seconds
back, people would suddenly feel a little lost. As soon as they felt sorted out and ready to move on, time skipped back again.

Forward.

Back!

Forward.

Back!

When time settled for a few seconds, Molly noticed that Finn was quickly taking one little bite out of each and every piece of dessert. She ran toward the glass case, trying to stop him.
Unfortunately, Molly noticed Finn at the same time as Martha Chalupsky noticed something was wrong. Martha looked at her ruined desserts, and then at Molly, who was now standing by the case. It was
obvious what kind old Martha was thinking.

Hiccup!

Molly wished time would rewind far enough that she could stop Finn
before
he munched the desserts. But time flipped and flopped all over the place, never stopping long enough in the
perfect moment. Every time Molly tried to reach for her brother to pull him away from a chocolate pie or a raspberry crisp, Grandpa hiccuped again and set them back or forward in time. She watched
Finn’s hand reaching toward the desserts, over and over again. Martha eyed Molly whenever time stood still.

Hiccup!

As chaos took over, Bree ran from person to person, trying to make people forget what they were seeing. Because when time jiggled and wiggled the way that it was, people
did
begin to
notice that something felt off. As she zipped around the room, her hair stood on end, the sugar caking her curls into crazy peaks and valleys.

But there was only so much Bree Quirk could do. She
wanted
to fix every situation her family got themselves into, but her magic only worked on one or two (
sometimes
three)
people at any given time. Whenever she tried to stretch her Quirk any further than that, she ended up weak and dizzy, until she was all twisted up like a tornado and dropping things left and right.
Her power of persuasion was downright useless in a restaurant full of people.

Hiccup!

Suddenly, Molly noticed her sister’s eyes were wide and staring around. Pen’s head was filling full of crazy images that were about to come to life. And Pen was hungry. Each time
Grandpa hiccuped, platters of beef pies, tureens of soup, even a whole roasted chicken appeared out of nowhere. Food piled into their corner booth until it was spilling down the side of the table
and landing on the floor. Mashed potatoes sat in a heap on the vinyl booth, and the chicken scooted and slid across the table on its roasted little legs as though it were alive.

Hiccup!

Things were going downhill for the Quirks—fast—and Molly couldn’t stop any of it. The entire restaurant was in hysterics. It looked like the Quirks were going to have to leave
town before the night was even over. No more Stella, no more fourth grade, no more Normal.

Molly was crushed.
We just aren’t normal
, she thought desperately,
and everyone’s going to know it
.

Right then, the hiccups stopped.

And that was when Mr. Intihar came striding into Crazy Ed’s.

“
W
e
l
l
,
h
e
idy-ho, Quirk girls,” Mr. Intihar
exclaimed. His loud, booming voice and shock of fluffy hair made everyone turn. The noise quieted, and calm settled over the room. Time had stopped jumping, and suddenly, all the diners at Crazy
Ed’s were focused on Mr. Intihar instead of the Quirks. Mr. Intihar didn’t seem to notice that a swirl of activity had consumed the restaurant just moments before he’d
entered.

Molly waved meekly at her teacher and stared around the room. Grandpa Quill was slumped in his seat, having collapsed from the exhaustion of time-flipping and terrible hiccups. Finn was dashing
away from the dessert case with a chunk of pie crust poking out of his pocket. Molly noticed Martha Chalupsky studying the chocolate fingerprints that lined the wall between their booth and the
desserts.

“Well!” Bree Quirk quipped, swaying to and fro. “Aren’t things lively in here?” She gazed around at the other diners and at the Quirks’ ruined booth, and
announced, “We’re all having such a nice time. Crazy Ed’s is a lovely restaurant.” Then Bree Quirk spun in a slow circle, like a dog settling in for a nap. She teetered and
tottered, then collapsed—straight into Mr. Intihar’s arms.

“Goodness,” Mr. Intihar said, lifting her back up by the elbows. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He wrapped his long, spaghetti-like arm around her shoulders.
Everyone in the restaurant stared as Bree stood up on two feet again.

“I’m fine,” Bree said, still tilting a little to the left. She nodded once, then smiled at some of the restaurant’s other patrons. “Just a little dizzy.”

Molly took her mother’s arm and led her to their booth to sit, out of sight. Molly knew her mom was a mess, because she’d just gone from table to table trying to convince an entire
restaurant full of people that they were having a fantastic time, despite the chaos surrounding them.

Fortunately, even though Bree’s power of persuasion hadn’t quite worked as she’d hoped it would, her fainting spell was interesting enough to get people to forget all about the
last few minutes. Bree sighed, exhausted. Molly could see that her mom would need something sweet, and fast.

Like a mind reader, Mr. Intihar popped his hand in his pocket and handed the girls’ mom a piece of foil-wrapped chocolate. “Here,” he said soothingly. “I always find
chocolate does the trick at times like this. Keep it in my pocket, for those just-in-case moments. I hope you don’t mind a little lint.” He watched as Bree unwrapped the chocolate and
tucked it into her mouth. She sighed happily. Her hair had also finally settled, just a bit.

“Thank you,” Molly said gratefully. “Mr. Intihar, this is my mom. Bree.” Her mother’s name always felt weird in her mouth, like it didn’t quite fit between
her tongue and teeth.

“How nice to meet you,” her teacher said. “I’m sure your girls have already told you, but we certainly had a grand day in fourth grade today. I always like to celebrate
the first day of school with a trip to Crazy Ed’s,” he said. “It looks like we had the same idea.” Mr. Intihar grinned.

“Our mom works here,” Molly said, watching as Mr. Intihar moved to sit on a stool at the coffee counter. Her brother was sitting on the exact same stool, and Molly gasped as her
teacher lowered himself onto it. Invisible Finn slid off the seat just in time, but he stayed near, crouching on the floor by Mr. Intihar’s feet. Molly watched helplessly as Finn carefully
and quietly untied Mr. Intihar’s shoes and unthreaded the laces. As usual, no one but Molly noticed.

“Martha and I are old friends,” Mr. Intihar said. “We’ve been pals since back in fourth grade—same age as you girls! Both of us grew up here in Normal and never did
go far.”

“Are you eating alone, Mr. Intihar?” Penelope asked. Her voice sounded tiny, and Molly noticed that her sister’s eyes were barely open. She looked half-asleep, but Molly knew
she was just trying to keep her mind under control. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Molly gasped. Everyone looked at her. She couldn’t say it aloud, of course, but she couldn’t help thinking that this was a
terrible
idea. If Mr. Intihar sat with them, how
could they possibly hide their Quirks? He’d see them for who they really were.

“That’s really nice of you, Penelope,” Mr. Intihar answered quickly. “I’d love the company.”

Fortunately, their table was still heaped with food. Molly pushed the mashed potatoes to the floor and said, “We were really hungry,” as though that would explain it.

As they feasted, the Quirks and Mr. Intihar chatted about school, the weather, and other perfectly normal things. Finn sat under the table, occupying himself with plates of this and bowls of
that, which Grandpa and Bree slipped his way whenever Mr. Intihar wasn’t looking.

The teacher told the Quirks about some of the town’s traditions, one of which was the annual fall festival. “Each year,” he said, leaning forward excitedly, “we close
down Main Street and everyone gathers for Normal Night!”

Normal Night?
Molly wondered. She had a feeling the night wouldn’t be very normal if the Quirks were around.

“The best part is the big surprise,” he said, his eyes wide.

Molly was curious. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well, every year the town of Normal does something extraordinary and totally abnormal!” Mr. Intihar explained, clapping excitedly. “On Normal Night, everyone tries to break a
super-duper record. We go after a different goal every year, and it’s always something absolutely crazy. Last year, we made more pancakes than any other town in the history of time. We had a
stack of pancakes that reached to the top of the tallest house in Normal!”

Grandpa Quill gasped. “Ooh-hoo! How fun!”

The girls’ teacher nodded enthusiastically. His hair stuck out at odd angles from his head, giving him a look of a mad scientist. He and Bree seemed to have something in common.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it? Another year, we built the longest graham cracker staircase in the world.”

Penelope giggled. “That’s a silly record to break.”

“The sillier, the better,” Mr. Intihar cried. “It’s always something strange and hilarious. And we all pitch in to make sure the record is set. We haven’t failed
once.”

“What’s the plan for this year?” Bree asked.

“That’s the surprise part,” Mr. Intihar said. “People in town put suggestions in the box outside the public library all year. In a few weeks, the
great-great-grandchildren of good ol’ Herman Normal—our town founder—will pick one. They announce it on live TV, and then we practice like crazy to get ready for the
festival!” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Frankly, everyone gets a little zany in the weeks leading up to Normal Night. And the night of the festival is really
something—games, music, food, everything!”