Dodger for Sale

Look
, if I’m going to tell you
everything
that happened with Dodger’s strange transformations, Amy’s disappearance, and our secret battle with the dreaded leprechauns, you have to promise
you
won’t tell
. And you won’t get totally grossed out—even by the parts that are completely
disgusting
. And you won’t mention this to any leprechauns you might run into.

Not that I’m afraid
of leprechauns or anything.

Anyway, I guess I’ll have to trust you on this, right? Plus, I’m busting to tell somebody about it.
So
here goes
…

I
’M STANDING AT THE TOP
of a cliff. Well, according to the hand-lettered sign at the edge, it’s technically a ski slope. But it looks pretty darn cliff-like to me. I have a snowboard attached to my feet, about a hundred pounds of hot, sweaty clothing on my body, and a pair of goggles strapped on over my glasses so I can’t really see where the heck I’m going.

And there’s a hyperactive blue chimp standing next to me. Despite the cold, he’s sporting nothing but a pair of bright orange surf shorts and a black eye patch. And he’s pretty excited. “Dude,” he exclaims, “you OWN this slope! This is going to be so great! Just remember, you’ve gotta BE the board. That’s all you need to know—just BE the board. Oh, and don’t fall and die. Because that would, like, totally ruin the plan.”

I smile weakly at him. “The plan?” I ask.

“You know, bud. The
plan
. Step One: Totally carve up the top part of this slope. Step Two: Conquer the giant slalom course in the middle of the slope. Step Three … um … I told you about Step Three, right?”

“Is that the part where I get carried away on a stretcher?”

“No, Willie, that’s Step Four. Just kiddin’! Actually, Step Three is the ski jump.”

“SKI JUMP??? Dodger, you never told me there would be a ski jump! Are you crazy? I’ve never even tried snowboarding before, and now you expect me to go off of some gigantic ramp?”

“Dude, calm down. It’s no biggie, okay? Everything’s taken care of. See, we, um, fixed your board.”

“What do you mean, you
fixed
my board? And who’s ‘we’?”

“The board is just a regular, ordinary snowboard, except the bottom has been painted with some—well, some special stuff. And never mind the ‘we’ thing.”

“Special stuff? What kind of special stuff?”

Dodger gave me one of his patented one-eyed winks and said, “I came up with the formula myself … mostly. It’s the same stuff that’s on the bottom of the Magic Carpet of Khartoum. It should give you a little extra lift. At least, I’m pretty sure.”

Oh, boy. The Magic Carpet of Khartoum is an actual, real-life flying carpet. And it’s not very easy to control—trust me. So I can only imagine the kind of massive damage I can do when I try to combine flying with snowboarding. “Dodger,” I say, “this is insane! Can you tell me again why I’m doing it?”

Dodger puts his hands on his hips and glares at me in exasperation. “Dude, do you want to save your little sister from the leprechauns or don’t you?”

My life gets really complicated sometimes. This is one of those times. “Of course I want to save Amy! I just don’t understand why we can’t walk over to their field and ask them to give her back.”

“Because that’s exactly what they’ll be expecting! Duh, do I have to think of everything around here?”

“Okay, I can see why we have to take the leprechauns by surprise. But why do I need to do the slalom course and everything?”

“ ’Cause, dude, it’s cool! You never need a
reason
to be cool! Now, let’s go over this one more time: Do you have your goggles?”

“Um, yeah. You’re looking at me wearing them, aren’t you?”

“Dude, you’re just supposed to say, ‘Check!’”

“Why?”

“ ’Cause it sounds awesome! Now, let’s try again—we’re running out of time! Goggles?”

“Check.”

“Gloves?”

“Check.”

“Map?”

“What map?”

“Oh, oops. Well, never mind that now. Alrighty, then—we’d better get moving! Any last questions?”

“Yeah! Where’s Lizzie?” Lizzie is my best friend. And back then, she was also the only other person I knew who could see Dodger. He was totally invisible to everyone else.

Long story.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be there when it all goes down.”

“When
what
all goes down?”

Just then something started beeping really, really loudly. I looked around, but the noise seemed to be coming from the side of Dodger’s shorts. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a cross between a cell phone, a GPS device, and a banana. Sure enough, it was the source of the beeps. It was also blinking bright orange once every few seconds. “Holy cow!” Dodger said. “Team Alpha is already in position! We’ve got to boogie!”

“We?”

“Yeah, we! You didn’t think I was going to let you have all this fun by yourself, did you?”

“But … but … you don’t have a snowboard!”

“Whoopsie. I knew I was forgetting
something
.”

“Wait, so what are we going to do now?”

Dodger took maybe ten steps backward up the hill and said, “We are going to
fly
!” Then he charged toward me, leaped in the air, and landed on the board so his feet were right next to mine and his arms were around my waist. We started zooming down the hill. That was when it occurred to me that I wasn’t wearing a helmet.

“Cowabunga!” Dodger shouted in my ear. Then he laughed.

T
O TELL YOU THE TRUTH,
this entire situation was my dad’s fault. If not for him and the dumb old self-help books he writes for a living, the whole crisis with the woods never would have happened. I wouldn’t have made my New Year’s resolution, James Beeks wouldn’t have betrayed the student council, and Amy wouldn’t have been snatched by the sprites of the forest.

It all started on January 1, when Dad woke up the whole family with a huge grin on his face. It was only seven
AM
, and we had all been up past midnight, but I guess he was so excited about his daffy idea that he just couldn’t wait for all of us to wake up on our own. Amy, my mother, and I staggered downstairs to the kitchen while Dad ran to the hall closet. When he came back, he was carrying wrapped gifts. I know you’re supposed to be excited when you get a present, but we were all so tired that all we did was maybe yawn a bit less and try to open our eyes past halfway.

Dad gave each of us a package. From the instant he put it in my hands, I knew it was a book. I usually love books, so if it hadn’t been so early, I might have actually been eager to open it. On the other hand, if I had known what was coming, I would have grabbed a pack of matches from the cabinet next to the sink and lit the wrapping paper on fire.

Dad was practically jumping up and down as we started unwrapping the gifts. I don’t know why—they had to be the lamest presents ever. I recognized mine as soon as I saw a corner of the cover. I peeked at my mom and sister, and they looked the way I felt. My father had given each of us a different one of the books he had written. As if we didn’t already have multiple copies of every single one of his books all over the house.

Mom’s present was Dad’s first bestseller,
Let
Them Play: Allowing Your Children to Express Their In
dependence
. Amy’s was
You Go, Girl: A Preteen’s Guide
to Standing Up for Your Rights
. Mine was
Kid on a
Quest: Be Your Own Hero (Teen Edition)
.

“Um, Dad?” Amy said. “Why did you wake us up at the crack of dawn to give us books we already had?” I had another question: Why in the world did Dad think Amy needed a book to teach her to speak up?