Kell and the Horse Apple Parade Page 4

  Quick, I found Bree and we made a plan. I found Mom and Dad and told them the plan. It might not work, but it was the best plan we had.

  Bree and I had almost everyone lined up. The parade was about to start.

  If you liked bugs, you might think Freddy the Bug looked awesome. His t-shirt and sweat pants had bugs glued to them everywhere.

  Tarantulas, bees, hornets, giant ticks and centipedes. Yuk. I decided to stay away from Freddy the Bug until after the parade.

  The soldiers marched after Freddy the Bug. The next-to-last act was the Tricycyle Gang. Mom said to put them near the last. Once they marched, their parents would probably go home and we didn’t want people to leave early.

  Bringing up the rear was the Horse Apple Patrol. People who bought a Horse Apple Hopscotch square would stay for this, too.

  Edgar’s van pulled into the park. Chief Glendale’s convertible top was already down, and Mary Lee sat on the back, letting her legs dangle onto the back seat. Mr. Van Dyke, Edgar’s Dad, carried him to the convertible and got him settled. The first car in the parade was ready!

  It was time.

  Bree and I walked down the parade line again, making a last check. Smiles, nervous laughs, stamping hooves.

  Then, two cellphones went off at once, playing “Home on the Range.” There was a black horse with red ribbons braided into its mane. The horse whinnied and pawed the ground. The policeman on his back jerked the reins up, and the horse turned around to look at him. I don’t think the horse and policeman were friends.

  And there, walking toward us, was Mom. She had on jeans and a white t-shirt and looked very human. No one would guess that she shed her skin once a month and was an alien from Bix. With her was Mrs. Hendricks, Bree’s Mom. She wore jeans, too, but she had on a suit jacket. I guess lawyers never really relax.

  Mrs. Lynx came out of the crowd and walked toward mom, saying, “Mrs. Smith, you’ve done an amazing job—”

  Her phone started to play that cowboy song. She stopped and turned around. The song stopped. When she circled back to Mom, the song played again.

  “Mrs. Smith?” Mrs. Lynx’s brow and forehead wrinkled together. She looked from her phone to Mom. Then a huge smile lit up her face. And she grabbed Mom’s arm and cried, “I’ve got you.”

  And Bree, my best friend on Earth, grabbed my shoulder and cried out, “Oh, no!”

  If I didn’t act fast, Mrs. Lynx would find out that my Mom was an alien.

  I was ready. Quick, I pushed the CALL button on my phone.

  Mrs. Lynx’s phone rang. She didn’t have the “Home on the Range” ring tone. So her phone stopped the Alien Chaser App and played a boring ring tone.

  Mrs. Lynx turned loose of mom’s arm and answered her phone and said, “Hello?”

  Just like we planned, Bree called Mom’s phone, and we heard the “Home on the Range” ring tone.

  I hung up on Mrs. Lynx.

  Mom held her phone toward Mrs. Lynx

  and said, “I’ve got you.”

  “What?” Mrs. Lynx looked confused.

  Mom said, “I have the Alien Chaser App, and it is going off when I point it at you.”

  Mrs. Lynx gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not an alien.”

  “Are you sure?” Mom asked sternly.

  “Of course, I’m not alien. I’m the school principal.” She shook her head, and the helicopter blades on her hat spun around.

  “Let’s just forget it,” Mom said.

  Confused, Mrs. Lynx nodded and stumbled away.

  The switch had worked! Mom was safe. For now.

  Just then, Chief Glendale beeped the horn on his convertible. He waved and called, “It’s time to start.”

  Amazingly, the Friends of Police Parade started exactly on time.

  At a parade, there is a thing called a Grand Stand, which is bleachers where the important people sit. Mayor Lucky and other city officials sat in the Grand Stand. Mrs. Lynx and other school teachers sat there. The policemen who weren’t in the parade sat there. The Grand Stands was packed.

  When a parade act got to the Grand Stand, they were supposed to pause and do some kind of song or act. Bree and I made sure that each act started at the right time. When the last act, the Horse Apple Patrol left the starting point, Bree and I ran to the Grand Stand to watch. By then Mary Lee and Edgar had finished the whole parade and were sitting in their wheelchairs beside the Grand Stand. We sat on the edge of the Grand Stand, and we all watched the rest of the parade together.

  The high school band played “Home on the Range.”

  Then the cowboy song blared from loud speakers, and the hula hoopers whirled around and around.

  Aja’s All-Star Invisible Tambourine Band played “Home on the Range.” Of course, I only heard Aja’s tambourine and Aja singing. But soon the crowd was whistling or singing along with him. His band was a hit.

  Only when the soldiers marched past the Grand Stand did the song change to “The Star Spangled Banner.” That was OK. It’s another song about the stars. And since I’m from the stars, I liked that.

  Finally, it was time for the Tricycle Gang. The trikes were big and little, red and pink, and new and old. Some had long sticks that held flags. Others had funny sounding horns

  that said, “Bahooga!”

  When the tricycle kids stopped at the Grand Stand, Dad passed out kazoos. They are a funny noisemaker. You just hum into a kazoo, and it sounds great. The kindergarten kids tried to hum “Home on the Range” into their kazoos, and it was a fantastic noise.

  Last came the Horse Apple Patrol. The policemen wore shiny black boots and blue uniforms with shiny buttons. On their heads, they wore their police hats. The loud speakers played “Home on the Range” again and everyone watched the horses walk. When one horse lifted its tail, the crowd called, “Oh!”

  And horse apples fell into Square Number 14.

  I couldn’t remember who had paid for that square. We would find out later when the awards were announced.

  When the Horse Apple Patrol reached the Grand Stand, they all stopped and turned to face the Mayor.

  The music changed. It was eerie, space music. Alien music! The policemen reached into their coat pockets and pulled out lime green sunglasses. They were just like the glasses that kids had worn at Bree’s birthday party.

  Mayor Lucky and everyone in the Grand Stand started laughing. Camera’s flashed.

  Mrs. Lynx crossed her arms and scowled. She jumped down from the Grand Stand and started to march away. The other S.A.C. people, those wearing the lime green t-shirts, started to follow her.

  A horse whinnied.

  More cameras flashed, and the crowd’s laughter grew louder. Were they laughing at the Society of Alien Chasers?

  Suddenly, the black horse with red ribbons whinnied louder and starting skittering sideways. The policeman jerked on the rein, but that only made the horse rear up. The policeman fell. The horse dashed straight for Mrs. Lynx.

  I watched in horror.

  The horse thundered toward her. The principal heard the sound and turned. Her eyes widened. The horse saw her, but by then, it couldn’t stop. His hooves drummed toward her.

  I did what I had to do. Using telekinesis, I shoved Mrs. Lynx toward the Grand Stand. Her phone fell with a clatter. That was lucky! I used telekinesis to move it right into the horse’s path. The horse thundered past her and down an empty alley.

  Mrs. Lynx screeched in anger, “Someone pushed me!” Several policemen crowded around her, trying to help. But she shrank away from their alien sunglasses.

  I had to help. I pushed through the blue uniforms and took Mrs. Lynx’s hand and pulled her out of the crowd. “You are safe,” I said.

  She looked around and saw her phone on the ground. It was crushed. The horse had run over it.

  Bree scooped up the broken phone pieces and handed it to Mrs. Lynx.

  That made me happy. No more Alien Chaser App. Maybe we had won the battle against the S.A.C. today.

&
nbsp; “An alien pushed me,” Mrs. Lynx said. “It tried to push me in front of that runaway horse.”

  She glared at Bree and said, “You. My Alien Chaser App went off in art class when it was pointed at you. And I know about that strange alien plant in Mrs. Smith’s greenhouse. Your mother gave her the seeds. And now, you pushed me into the path of that runaway horse.”

  Bree’s eyes got big, but then she grinned, “I am not an alien.”

  Mrs. Lynx brushed off her jeans and skirt. “I can’t prove it,” she said. “But someone in third grade is an alien, and I’ll be watching you.”

  I couldn't help it. I had to ask, “Who cares if there are aliens on Earth?”

  Mrs. Lynx said in her best teacher voice, “Aliens only want to take over the Earth. I will find the alien in third grade. And when I do, I’ll make sure the government captures it.”

  I was shocked. Before, I thought this was like a game for Mrs. Lynx. But it’s not. She is serious about catching aliens. She could really hurt my family. I had to make sure that she never found out about my family and Bix. But that would have to wait because the parade wasn’t over.

  From the loud speakers came Mayor Lucky’s voice. “It’s time to give out the awards for the F.O.P. Parade.”

  Bree and I left the principal and ran back to the front of the Grand Stand. A crowd had gathered for the awards.

  “Grand Prize for the Horse Apple Hopscotch goes to Square Number 14!”

  “Bonzer! I’ve won!” called Mrs. Crux, the art teacher. “That was a corker of a parade!”

  There she was speaking Aussie again. Did she ever feel like an alien, too? I was glad she won the horseback riding lessons, so she could learn all about American cowboys and cowgirls.

  “Winner of the best act is the Tricycle Gang. Free ice cream for all the Gang!” called Mayor Lucky.

  And everyone cheered. Anything to keep the voters happy, I thought.

  “We did it,” I told Mary Lee.

  Chief Glendale was smiling. “It was the best F.O.P. parade ever.”

  Mary Lee said, “I’m just glad Mrs. Lynx is OK. I saw the whole thing, and I thought she was going to be hurt really bad.” She tapped her hand on the arm of the wheelchair. “I think she’s right. An alien—”

  “Excuse me,” said a man. He was the tallest Earthling I had ever seen. “Who was in charge of the parade?”

  “The Smiths,” Mary Lee said and pointed to Mom.

  The man turned to Mom. “My name is Joel East. Do you do birthday parties? My son, Roman, will be nine soon, and he wants a giant party.”

  “We can do a big party,” Mom said.

  “No, he wants a ‘giant’ party. You know, something with really tall, giant people.”

  “Oh,” Mom said.

  And I thought, “Here we go again. Another Look Up Later List for another party.”

  Mr. Chamale and his volunteers were already cleaning up the horse apples. The mayor would be happy. Chief Glendale had to go off and talk to other policemen and help clean up things.

  Edgar’s dad came and took Edgar home. That just left Bree and Mary Lee and me beside the Grand Stand.

  Mary Lee yawned.

  “Are you tired?” I asked.

  She nodded. “The spider bite medicine makes me sleepy. I should get into Dad’s convertible and take a nap.”

  “Do you need help?” I asked.

  “Yes, give me a lift, please,” Mary Lee said.

  I went to her chair and reached for her hand to pull her up.

  But Mary Lee stared at me and said, “No. I’ve been watching you. You have alien silver eyes. And you wouldn’t let the nurse listen to your alien heart. If you even have a heart. And you stuck out your hand to concentrate when you shoved Mrs. Lynx away from the horse. I need a lift.”

  So I gave Mary Lee a lift with telekinesis. She stood, and, with a little help from telekinesis, she walked over to the convertible.

  She sank into the convertible seat and yawned. “Where are you from, anyway?”

  “The planet Bix.” It was nice to be able to tell the truth to someone else.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes. Then she opened them and stared at me. “What else can you do?”

  Before I could answer, Bree said, “He sheds his skin once a month.”

  They looked at each other and giggled. Then, together they said, “Alien boys are weird.”

  The End

  FOR FUN

  HORSESHOES ARE HIDDEN SOMEWHERE WITHIN THE PAGES OF THIS BOOK.

  CAN YOU FIND 11 HORSEHOES?

  The Answers are at MimsHouse.com/aliens

  Preview

  THE ALIENS, INC. SERIES

  Book 3

  KELL AND THE GIANTS

  By Darcy Pattison

  pictures by

  Rich Davis

  MIMS HOUSE / LITTLE ROCK, AR

  I bent over the giant state of Texas.

  “Texas is so big,” said Mrs. Crux the art teacher, “that I need three students to work together to paint it. Bree, Roman and Kell.”

  Our art class was painting a map of the United States on the basketball court. Alaska needed three people to paint it, too. Most kids were painting just one state. Some students had two small states to color. One student was painting five small states.

  Roman East dabbed red paint on the south Texas beaches and said, “We need to plan my birthday party. I want a giant party.”

  I asked, “How big a party do you want?”

  “No,” Roman said. “Not a big party. A party about giants. You know, really tall people.”

  Roman was the tallest kid in third grade. I could understand why he was interested in giants.

  I swiped red paint onto the Panhandle of north Texas.

  Meanwhile, Bree Hendricks, my best friend, was painting red on the east side of Texas. She said, “No one knows anything about giants. Name one giant.”

  Roman said, “There was the one-eyed giant named Cyclops. Paul Bunyan was an American giant who lived in the forests and cut down giant trees. In the Bible, a boy named David killed a nine-foot giant named Goliath.”

  Bree giggled and said, “I just remembered a giant. There’s the Jolly Green Giant who wears green underwear.”

  I frowned. I had only read about Atlas, the giant that is supposed to hold the world on his shoulders. Before my family crash-landed, we got a good look at Earth from space. There isn’t a giant holding up the Earth. That Atlas story, it’s just a folktale.

  The art class was working outside in the wide-open spaces. But sure enough, a flying bug found me. It zoomed around my ears, and then flew high enough to be out of reach. Quick, I dropped to my knees and hissed at Bree, “What kind of bug?”

  Her head circled, following the bug above my head. “It’s a honeybee. It’s OK. Don’t smash it.”

  Slowly, I peeked upward and the bee dropped a couple inches closer. Terrified, I held very, very, very still. On Earth, there are more bugs than any other kind of animal. I don’t like Earth bugs. You never knew when a bug might bite or sting you. This one had a black head, a golden body, and a stinger.

  I waved at the honeybee to go away. It just circled my head again. I shivered and ducked.

  Just then, Mrs. Lynx, the principal came out of the school building and trotted over to us. She wore her toe shoes, so she ran very quietly. Running beside her was a dog about as tall as her knees. The dog had a brown head, ears and neck, but the back part of him was spotted. They stopped at the edge of the map and Mrs. Lynx said, “Sit.”

  The dog sat.

  Meanwhile, the honeybee was gone, flying away when I wasn’t looking. That didn’t fool me. I knew it would be back.

  “Be careful,” Mrs. Crux said. “The paint is still wet.”

  Mrs. Lynx frowned. “Then how are they getting out of Texas?”

  Bree and I backed into each other and then Roman bumped into us. We had painted ourselves into the very center of Texas. There was no way out!

  Bre
e said, “It’s OK. We can jump. Kell and I are good at hopscotch.”

  I groaned. I am an alien from the planet Bix. I can do telekinesis, which means I can move things with my mind. Bree wanted me to give her a boost when she jumped. But Mrs. Lynx is President of the S.A.C., the Society of Alien Chasers. If I helped Bree too much, Mrs. Lynx would suspect that I was an alien.

  Still, we were trapped in Texas.

  Mrs. Crux said, “Are you sure, mate, that you can jump far enough?” She is from Australia and says, “Mate,” all the time.

  Bree nodded and said, “I will jump on 3.”

  “1, 2, 3!” She leapt high—with a little help from a Bix alien—and landed on the tennis court away from the paint.

  “You next,” I told Roman.

  “I can’t jump that,” Roman said. He has long legs and I thought he might even be able to take a giant step to get out of Texas. But he wouldn’t try. Instead, he bent and leapt. He’s so big and clumsy that he really needed a boost! He landed just outside Texas and fell into a heap.

  Roman cried out, “What was that?” He twisted around to stare at me.

  Oh, no! He must have felt me giving him a shove.

  Quickly, Bree said, “You’re a great jumper!”

  He stood up and brushed off his shirt. Looking at the distance he had jumped, he stood a bit taller. “I’m a better jumper than I thought.”

  Now, I had to jump. I bent and leapt.

  But right in mid-air—BZZZ! Three honeybees zipped around me. I slapped at them and forgot to do telekinesis. I fell onto south beaches of Texas

  “Do you want me to give you jumping lessons?” Roman said. Smiling at his own joke, he held out a hand and I took it.

  Roman pulled me up halfway, but then we got stuck. He pulled and I pulled, but I didn’t go any farther. I was just hanging over Texas.