The Genius Files #4 (5 page)

“It was an accident,” Coke told them. “We didn't mean for that to happen. We were just running
away. Trying to stay alive.”

“She was our aunt,” Pep said. “I mean, we hardly knew her, but even so. How could it have happened? She was just a normal person, and then she turned into this . . . monster.”

“It happens,” Bones told them. “Monsters aren't born that way. They start out as cute babies, like everybody else. And then, somewhere along the line, they change. Maybe it's genetic. Maybe it's their environment. Sometimes perfectly normal people snap and go crazy and we never find out the reason why.”

“What's done is done,” Mya said philosophically. “All that matters now is that the monster is dead. Evil Elvis will never hurt you, or anyone else, again.”

“What did you tell your parents about it?” asked Bones.

“Nothing,” Coke replied.

“Good,” Bones said. “It would be best for them not to be involved. They would call the police, and that would just open up a big can of worms.”

“What are we supposed to do
now
?” Pep asked. “Dr. Warsaw called on my mom's cell phone. He said Aunt Judy was missing and he wanted to know if our folks knew where she was.”

“I'm not worried about Warsaw,” said Mya. “He sent Archie Clone after you, and we know what happened
to him. Then he sent Aunt Judy after you, and we know what happened to her. Dr. Warsaw may be mentally unstable, but he isn't dumb. By now he must realize that playing with you is playing with fire—literally. He'll probably go crawl back into the little hole where he came from. You'll never have to worry about him again.”

“That would be a big relief,” Pep said.

“You probably won't be seeing us anymore,” Bones told the twins. “So we got you a little something. Sort of a going-away present.”

He opened a bag on the table.

“Oh, you don't have to give us presents!” Pep said.

“Is it a Frisbee grenade?” Coke asked hopefully. “We can definitely use another one of those.”

Bones pulled out a small, thin metal object with five little prongs at the end. It sort of telescoped open, like the antenna of a portable radio. He handed it to the twins.

“You got us . . . a backscratcher?” asked Pep.

“It's not a backscratcher, you dope!” Coke told his sister. “It's obviously a blowgun
disguised
as a backscratcher, right? You blow into one end and it shoots
out poisoned darts that will paralyze somebody in seconds. That is cool!”

“Uh, it's not a blowgun,” Bones said.

“No?” said Coke. “I know! It's like one of those stun gun things. You push a little button hidden in the handle and it shoots out sixty thousand volts of electricity.
Bzzzzzzt!
That'll give a bad guy something to think about! Thanks! This could really come in handy.”

“It's not a stun gun,” Mya said. “It's a—”

“How could I have been so dumb?” asked Coke. “I know. You break off a piece of the backscratcher and put it into somebody's drink, right? It dissolves, and the next thing they know they're coughing up blood and begging you to give them the antidote. Right?”

“Wrong.”

“There's no antidote for the poison?” Coke asked.

“There's no poison, and there's no antidote,” said Bones. “You must understand, we have no budget for high-tech—”

“Maybe you can stab somebody with this thing?” Coke asked hopefully.

“It's a
backscratcher
,” insisted Mya, demonstrating it. “That's
all
it is. You use it to scratch your back! You know, in those hard-to-reach places. It telescopes. See?”

“We don't need a backscratcher!” Coke said, disappointed. “We need something we can use to defend ourselves from the crazy people who are trying to kill us!”

“Look,” Bones said. “You've got to believe me. Nobody is trying to kill you anymore. Relax! Enjoy the rest of your vacation. The coast is clear.”

The coast may have been clear. It was Arkansas, Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico that the twins were worried about.

T
heir tummies filled, the McDonald family was on the road again. In fact, Dr. McDonald began to sing, much to everyone's dismay, Willie Nelson's signature song “On the Road Again.” As a singer, Dr. McDonald made a good history professor.

The twins stared out the window as Arkansas rolled by. They were both thinking the same thing—what if Bones and Mya were
wrong
? What if the coast
wasn't
clear? What if Mrs. Higgins or those pesky bowler dudes were waiting for them at their next stop, ready to leap out and do some horribly unspeakable thing? Or what if there was a
new
threat out there
waiting to attack them?

Coke made a mental note to never let down his guard.

On the first half of their journey, most of the highway signs had an
E
, for east, after the route number. Now the highway signs ended in a
W
. The McDonalds were on their way home.

“Hot Springs, here we come!” Dr. McDonald bellowed as he merged onto I-30 West out of Little Rock. Mrs. McDonald opened her Arkansas guidebook and casually leafed through it. They had only traveled about fourteen miles when they approached exit 123—Bryant/Bauxite.

“Ben, stop the car!” Mrs. McDonald shouted suddenly.

He swerved off to the shoulder of the road and slammed on the brakes, nearly causing an accident and frightening the other drivers. The Ferrari screeched to a halt. Books, maps, papers, pens, and anything else that wasn't held down went flying into the front seat. Had they not been wearing seat belts, the whole family would have gone through the windshield.

“What's wrong?” Dr. McDonald asked, his heart racing. “Did I hit something?”

“This is the exit for Bauxite, Arkansas!” Mrs. McDonald said excitedly.

“So?” replied the rest of the family.

“The town is named after bauxite!”

A moment of silence.

“What's bauxite?” asked Pep.

“It's an off-white, grayish, brown, yellow, or reddish-brown rock,” Coke informed her. “They make aluminum out of it.”

He remembered that from a game of Trivial Pursuit he had played years ago.

“Thank you, Mr. Wikipedia,” Pep said, rolling her eyes.

“Don't tell me, let me guess,” Dr. McDonald said. “There's a museum here—”

“Yes!” Mrs. McDonald said gleefully. “Bauxite, Arkansas, calls itself the Aluminum Capital of the World! This will be great for
Amazing but True
. And the town is just a few miles from here!”

A collective groan could be heard from inside the Ferrari.

“You know, Mom,” Pep said, choosing her words carefully, “there's no rule that says we have to go to
every
capital of the world.”

“That's right, Mom,” Coke pointed out. “Maybe we ought to skip this one. It doesn't sound that interesting.”

Dr. McDonald kept his mouth shut. He'd decided to let the kids take the heat this time.

Mrs. McDonald turned to face the backseat. Never a good sign.

“Sixty years from now, you're going to be old,” she told the kids. “You're going to think back on all the things you did during your life. You'll have some regrets. We all do. And if we don't visit Bauxite, Arkansas, right now, you're going to regret that you were just a few lousy miles from the Aluminum Capital of the World and couldn't be bothered to check it out. How will you feel?”

In their heads, Coke and Pep came up with several snarky comments, along the lines of “We'll feel great!” In reality, they didn't say a word. There was no use arguing with Bridget McDonald. There was no use complaining. They would be going to Bauxite, Arkansas—the Aluminum Capital of the World.

Dr. McDonald grudgingly pulled off at the exit.

“I hope this place is more interesting than the Duct Tape Capital of the World,” Coke whispered to his sister in the backseat.

Perhaps you recall, dear reader, that a similar situation occurred in
The Genius Files: Never Say Genius
. On their way to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the McDonalds stumbled upon the town of Avon, Ohio, where there is an annual duct tape parade, with duct tape sculptures, a duct tape fashion show, and a
dancing mascot called Duct Tape Duck.

Bauxite looked pretty much like any other small town in America. A sign said the population of the town was 432.

“They should call this place Snoozeville, USA,” Coke grumbled as he looked out the window.

“The Aluminum Capital of the World?” Pep asked. “It's not like the houses here are made out of aluminum or anything.”

Dr. McDonald drove past the local post office and turned south on School Street. After a few blocks, he double-parked in front of the Bauxite Museum—a colonial-style building with five columns in the front.

“You kids run inside and get tickets,” said Mrs. McDonald. “We'll find a parking spot.”

“Yeah, there might be a long line to get in to see the aluminum,” Coke said with a smirk as he got out of the car.

“I can't believe they have a museum devoted to a
rock
,” Pep told her brother as she yanked open the heavy front door.

“Why not?” Coke replied. “We've already been to museums devoted to Spam, mustard, yo-yos, Pez dispensers, vacuum cleaners, hot dog buns—”

Coke could have listed every oddball museum they had visited on the trip, but the words stuck in his throat as he gasped at the sight of someone he had hoped he would never see again.

Mrs. Higgins.

“Well, if it isn't the McDonald twins!” she said cheerfully. “Welcome to The Bauxite Museum! Fancy meeting
you
two here! I'll be your tour guide today.”

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Pep nearly fainted, but her brother grabbed her before she could hit the ground.

If you've been following The Genius Files series, you're well aware that Mrs. Higgins is the germaphobic and psychotic health teacher who set the twins' school on fire while they were locked in the
detention room. She also chased them through The House on the Rock in Wisconsin, forced them to cause a riot at Wrigley Field in Chicago, and tried to blow their eardrums out with heavy metal music at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland.

In all fairness, Coke and Pep had not exactly reciprocated with kindness toward Mrs. Higgins. In fact, back in Kansas they had emptied the RV's toilet on her head as she sat in a convertible. And Mrs. Higgins still had a scar across her neck from the time they clothes-lined her with a ball of twine.

The twins took a terrified step backward, but the door to the museum had already closed behind them.

“Don't you dare touch us!” Coke shouted, pointing his finger at Mrs. Higgins as he leaped into one of his karate poses.

“I have no intention of touching you,” she replied, still smiling cheerfully. “I'm just happy to see you again.”

“Our parents will be here any second!” yelled Pep, trying to appear threatening.

“Great!” said Mrs. Higgins. “I was so disappointed that I didn't get the chance to meet them on Back-to-School Night.”

“You're crazy!” Coke declared, looking around desperately for help, or at least an EXIT sign. “And you're stalking us!”

“Who, me?” asked Mrs. Higgins innocently. “Oh dear no.”

“If you're not stalking us, how come you always manage to get a job wherever we happen to be?” asked Pep.

“It's just an amazing coincidence, I suppose,” she replied, with a smile. “Teachers don't get paid much. I needed to earn some money over summer vacation, and here I am.”