Mr. Docker Is Off His Rocker! (4 page)

It was Friday, the day before our big spy mission. Mr. Docker had a bunch of cardboard milk cartons on his desk, and some little square mirrors, too.

“What are we going to do with this stuff?” I asked.

“We're going to make periscopes!” he said.

“I saw a submarine movie where they used a periscope to see above the water,” said Ryan.

“In Greek, ‘peri' means ‘around,'” said Mr. Docker, “and ‘scopus' means ‘to look.'”

Mr. Docker helped us cut holes in our milk cartons and glue the mirrors inside so we could see around corners. It was cool, and we each got to take our periscope home.

“Mr. Docker, does outer space ever end?” asked Andrea.

“That's one of the great mysteries of the universe,” Mr. Docker said. “I don't know if we'll ever know the answer.”

“Why do birds fly, Mr. Docker?” Ryan asked.

“It's faster than driving,” said Mr. Docker, and everybody laughed even though it wasn't very funny.

Lately, I'd noticed, Mr. Docker wasn't giving us very good answers. It was like he was getting sick of hearing our why questions.

Miss Lazar, the custodian, came into the science room with a big ladder.

“Hooray for Miss Lazar!” everyone chanted.

Mr. Docker handed Miss Lazar a bowling ball with a rope attached to it. She went up the ladder and tied the rope to the ceiling, so the bowling ball hung down.

“Duty calls,” said Miss Lazar, and she left. We all laughed, because Miss Lazar said
“duty” and it sounds just like “doody.”

“This is a pendulum,” said Mr. Docker.

He took the bowling ball and walked backward, pulling the bowling ball with him. Then he put the ball against his nose.

“What do you think will happen if I let go of this pendulum?” he asked.

“It will swing across the room and come back and smash you in the head,” Ryan said.

“Let's do the experiment and find out,” said Mr. Docker.

“No! Don't!” we all shouted, but Mr. Docker let go of the ball anyway.

“Eeeeeeek!” all the girls shouted as the bowling ball swung across the room.

“Get out of the way!” shouted Michael.

Mr. Docker just stood there!

“We've got to do something!” shouted Emily.

She was right. The bowling ball was heading back to Mr. Docker, straight for his head! I had to act fast!

I remembered my Pee Wee football training. At the last possible second, I jumped up and tackled Mr. Docker. He fell backward. We crashed into the skeleton in the corner. Bones went flying everywhere and the skeleton was destroyed, but I had saved Mr. Docker's life. All those football practices paid off!

“Why did you do that, A.J.?” Mr. Docker asked as we were lying on the floor.

“I didn't want the bowling ball to hit you in the face,” I said.

“It wasn't going to hit me,” Mr. Docker said. “A swinging pendulum loses energy because of gravity and air resistance. That's what I was trying to show.”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”

Maybe he was right, but if you ask me, a grown man shouldn't stand in front of a moving bowling ball.

Spying on people is cool. My sister, Amy, and I spy on our parents all the time. We tiptoe around and hide behind the furniture so we can write down their conversations. I always hope to hear good secrets, but all my parents ever talk about is whose turn it is to take out
the garbage and stuff like that. They're the most boring parents in the history of the world.

On Saturday me, Michael, Andrea, and Emily rode our bikes to Ryan's house. Ryan was all ready. He had sunglasses for all of us, because spies always wear sunglasses. He had his milk carton
periscope. Ryan even had one of his famous stink bombs.

“Okay,” he said, “let's synchronize our potato clock.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked.

“I don't know,” Ryan said. “But they always synchronize their watches in spy movies.”

We tiptoed down the street to Mr. Docker's house. It looked pretty normal. You would never know a mad scientist lived there.

We hid behind a tree across the street. Ryan looked in the periscope.

“Can you see anything?” Andrea asked.

“No.”

“Maybe he's not home,” said Emily. “We should go.”

“Let's get closer,” I said.

We tiptoed across the street and sneaked up Mr. Docker's driveway.

“If he comes home right now, we'll be in big trouble,” Emily said.

“Don't be a baby,” I said. “Come on. Let's peek in the window.”

I looked in the window. I was hoping to see Mr. Docker swapping brains with someone, but there was nobody inside.

“He's not home,” Andrea said. “Let's get out of here.”

“Oops.”

I turned around. Ryan dropped the
stink bomb in the middle of Mr. Docker's driveway! It broke open and the stink got out.

“Ewww, it's disgusting!” Andrea said, holding her nose.

“Ugh, I think I'm gonna die,” I said.

I didn't think things could get any
worse, but they did. Suddenly the garage door opened!

Mr. Docker was standing there!

He had a knife in his hand!

We all screamed!

“He's crazy!” Andrea shouted. “Run for your life!”

That crazy mad scientist Mr. Docker was four feet away, and he was holding a big, sharp knife. I looked at Ryan. Ryan looked at Michael. Michael looked at me. Andrea and Emily ran away.

“Are you going to swap our b-b-brains?” I asked Mr. Docker.

“What are you d-d-doing with that knife?” asked Ryan.

“I'm peeling potatoes,” Mr. Docker said. “What's that smell?”

“I made a stink bomb,” Ryan said.

“Excellent!” said Mr. Docker. “I'm glad you're doing science projects at home.
Welcome to my laboratory.”

We looked around Mr. Docker's garage. It was filled with lots of test tubes, jars of chemicals, and other stuff. But the thing that stood out was his car. It didn't have a metal covering like a normal car. The whole thing was covered with…potatoes!

“What's
that
?” Michael asked.

“You're just in time,” Mr. Docker said. “I've been working on it for months and it's finally done. Behold the Spudmobile!”

The car was covered with rows and rows of potatoes. Each potato had wires attached to it that went to the engine. It was the weirdest-looking car I ever saw.

“You built a car powered by potatoes?” Ryan asked.

“It can also run on pickles,” Mr. Docker replied. “But I thought a Picklemobile would sound silly. Do you want a ride?”

“Sure!” we said as we climbed in.

“It has that new potato car smell,” said Michael.

“What kind of mileage does this thing get?” asked Ryan, who knows a lot about cars.

“About five miles per potato,” said Mr. Docker.

He turned the key. The engine started up with a quiet hum. Mr. Docker pulled out of the driveway. It really worked!

“Maybe someday
all
cars will run on potatoes,” Mr. Docker said. “They won't have gas stations anymore. They'll have potato stations.”

“And if you're out driving and you get hungry,” I said, “you can eat your car.”

“The possibilities are endless!” said Mr. Docker. “We could heat our houses with potatoes! Someday we'll have potato-powered computers and TV sets.”

“They could have potato-powered toys,” I suggested. “Potatoes not included.”

Mr. Docker let out one of his cackling laughs. That's when I realized that he's not an evil mad scientist at all. Mr. Docker is the coolest nerd in the history of the world!

We turned the corner, and there were Andrea and Emily on the sidewalk.
They were staring at the potato car with their mouths wide open, like they were looking at a ghost.

“Check it out!” Ryan shouted out the window. “We're riding in the Spudmobile!”

“Power to the potato!” shouted Michael.

“Nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you!” I shouted.