Paul moaned with pleasure, rubbing his belly. “Yes, sir, Mr. Higginbottom. The chef is a tyrant, but she can cook like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Best I’ve ever had,” Tick agreed, just as his mom entered from the garage. “Oh, sorry, Mom. Yours is good too.”

“It’s okay, Atticus,” Mom said as she set a couple of bags down on the counter. “I’d hope a young woman from a family well-known for their spaghetti would be able to beat mine any day.”

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know. You sure do know how to add spices to that Ragu sauce.”

“Very funny,” Mom replied.

Newly driving Lisa and newly turned five-year-old Kayla came through next, both holding bags of their own.

“Whoa, Mom,” Tick said. “How much stuff did you buy?”

“Enough to keep three kids clothed for a year.” She pointed a finger at Tick. “No growing until next summer. That’s an order.”

“Did you kill anyone driving to the mall, sis?” Tick asked.

Lisa gave him a mock evil stare. “Just one old lady—and I hit her on purpose.”

“Wow,” Paul said. “Sounds like—”

A sudden crack from upstairs interrupted him; a booming sound of splitting, shattering wood shook the entire house. A plate fell from the counter and broke on the floor. Kayla shrieked and ran to her mom.

“What the—?” Dad said, already on the move out of the kitchen and down the hall, everyone following behind him. As his dad bounded up the stairs as quickly as he could move his big body, Tick anxiously looked around him to see what had caused the commotion.

Through a swirling cloud of dust and debris, Tick could see a large, silvery metal tube with a sharp, tapered end jutting from the wall outside Tick’s room, splinters of ripped wood holding it in place. It looked as if it had been shot from a cannon, a dud bomb lodged in the drywall.

“What on earth?” Mom said in a shaky voice, putting a hand on her husband’s arm.

Dad had no answer; Tick hurried past him to his bedroom door and opened it, expecting to see a disaster area—broken windows, a gaping hole in the side of the house, something. But his breath caught in his throat when he saw no damage at all—not a crack or tear in the ceiling, the windows, or the walls. His room was in perfect shape. The only thing out of place was the other end of the metal tube which stuck out of the wall to his left. It also had a tapered end.

Tick poked his head back into the hallway, examined the ceiling. No damage there, either. Everyone looked as perplexed as he felt.

Dad leaned forward and studied the strange object. “Where’d that thing come from? And how in the world did it get stuck in our wall?”

Chapter

3

~

Something Odd
Is Happening