Willy Maykit in Space Page 2

  “Cheerios?” Randy Simpkins, who was sitting beside Willy, looked up from his electronic book.

  “Breakfast of champions,” Willy said.

  “Wrong cereal.” Randy turned back to his book and tapped it to flip the page.

  “How about they taste good?”

  “That’ll work.”

  “Want to go explore the ship?” Willy asked.

  Randy held up his book. “Just getting to the good part. But I’d like a full report.” Randy was big on full reports. “Take good notes.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Willy wasn’t sure if there were bends inside the Starlite 3000, but there were probably plenty of nooks and crannies. It was a very big ship—it had many rooms.

  Willy unzipped his duffel, which was at his feet, and threw in the Cheerios. “Hands off my bag,” he said to Randy. Then he wandered down the main aisle into a room where a bunch of girls were seated around a table. One of them was Cindy Das. Willy wanted to say something like “Good morning” or “Whatcha doing?” but with Cindy Das sitting there with her almost-smile, all that came out was “Mumble, mumble, mumble.”

  He moved on to the movie room, where they were showing a film he’d seen before. The next room had a Ping-Pong table. And the next was some sort of library with lots of computer screens. Mr. Jipthorn was sitting at one of the computers.

  “Willy?” Mr. Jipthorn said, giving him one of his teacher looks.

  “Just exploring the ship,” Willy told him.

  “I’d like a full report,” Mr. Jipthorn said.

  Oh, no! Willy cringed. To Mr. Jipthorn, a full report meant perfect penmanship and even more perfect grammar. It meant all sorts of nasty things, like hard work and . . . effort.

  Willy kept walking, opening and closing cupboards and closet doors. He checked out all six bathrooms. The Starlite 3000 was packed with stuff. With any luck, Mr. Jipthorn would forget about the full report he’d requested. Hopefully.

  Finally, Willy headed up front and sat in the copilot’s seat next to Max. There is something very wrong about a fourth-grader sitting in the copilot’s chair when a spaceship is traveling along at many times the speed of light, but if it was okay with Max, it was okay with Willy Maykit.

  “Knock, knock,” Willy said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Willy gave him a look. “You forgot already? We’ve been through this.”

  “Oh, who’s there?”

  “Oink-oink.”

  “Oink-oink who?” asked the pilot.

  “Make up your mind. Are you a pig or an owl?”

  Max blinked a few times. He didn’t laugh.

  Willy tried again.

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Doris.”

  “Doris who?”

  “Doris locked. That’s why I’m knocking.”

  It was no use. Max wouldn’t know a joke if it bit him in the microchip.

  Willy stayed in the copilot’s chair for the rest of the trip. Max didn’t mind. He didn’t understand any of Willy’s jokes, but he seemed to like the company.

  Somewhere around Pluto, Willy stopped trying to make Max laugh and gave his attention to the instrument panel in front of him.

  There were green buttons and red buttons. Knobs and levers and—

  “What’s that?” Willy asked.

  “We call it the steering wheel.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hanging on to it?”

  The android shook his head. “We’re going much too fast to steer.”

  “Autopilot?” Willy asked.

  “Something like that.”

  A few hours later, they were orbiting Planet Ed. “Now there’s an attractive planet,” Willy said. It looked a lot like Earth. It was round, anyway. And there were oceans and huge areas of land.

  Max grabbed the steering wheel and directed the ship closer to the surface.

  “Are you sure this is Planet Ed?” Willy asked as they prepared to land.

  “What do you mean?”

  Willy pointed. There were trees and rivers and mountains. “It looks a lot like Colorado.”

  “It’s Planet Ed,” Max said. “Trust me.”

  Willy did trust him—but it still looked like Colorado.

  Chapter 4

  Planet Ed

  The ship landed in a clearing in what looked like a huge forest, or, as Willy called it, Colorado, though he knew this was not the case. You can’t travel through space at many times the speed of light and end up in the Rockies. Can you?

  Willy looked out the window at the trees and the mountains, beyond which there were dark clouds. Storm clouds, Willy thought, and me without my rain boots. Not to mention his umbrella.

  But the storm clouds were miles away. Willy had a whole planet to explore. He’d worry about the weather later.

  Mr. Jipthorn pushed open the door of the ship and stepped out, followed by the entire class. “Boys and girls, let me have your attention,” Mr. Jipthorn began. “We are leaving here in three hours. Feel free to look around, but do not wander off alone.”

  “Planet Ed,” Willy said to Randy. “Can you believe it?”

  “Not really,” Randy said. He held out his arm. “Pinch me.”

  “If you say so.” Willy was an expert pincher.

  “Ouch!” Randy said, but he was smiling. “Wow. Planet Ed.”

  “See you later, Randy.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Exploring. It’s what I do.” Willy dragged his duffel away from the other kids, completely ignoring the teacher’s instructions.

  Mr. Jipthorn was going on and on about staying nearby, about safety on a foreign planet, about keeping close to the ship. And everyone was listening.

  Everyone except Willy Maykit.

  He was too busy hauling his duffel to the edge of the clearing and yanking on the zipper. Seconds later, Phelps poked his head out.

  “Caw,” Phelps said.

  Willy knew this was the bird’s way of saying, “I don’t appreciate being cooped up for three hours, but thanks for the Cheerios.”

  “You’re welcome,” Willy muttered.

  Phelps took to the air.

  Willy followed his bird into the forest, running along what looked like a hiking trail. “Phelps, wait up.”

  “Caw.” Phelps flew on, a hundred yards ahead, then two hundred.

  After a while Willy stopped running. No way could he keep up with a bird. Instead, he took his time, exploring the woods along the trail. Whenever the path wrapped around a huge boulder on the right or suddenly jogged to the left, Willy caught his breath. Hadn’t his father always told him there could be something interesting around the next bend?

  Willy kept walking, and as he walked, he whistled. It was a tune he’d learned from his father. If it was good enough for Mr. Maykit, it was good enough for Willy.

  He wandered deeper and deeper into the forest. Now and then he thought of turning back, but each time he did, the trail bent, and Willy had to see what was beyond it.

  He was so caught up in the hike and paying attention to what was happening on the ground that he didn’t notice what was happening overhead. He didn’t see the dark clouds moving in.

  Not until a shadow passed over him. Not until it started to rain.

  It came lightly at first. Willy barely felt it. And then it picked up a tad.

  Only it was much more than a tad. It was the downpour to beat all downpours. The water not only came down in sheets, it came down in blankets. Pretty strange. But this is a different planet we’re talking about. It was raining harder than he’d ever seen it. Willy ran to the nearest tree for shelter. That helped a little, but not much. Soon the wind picked up, and rain came at him sideways.

  And then—

  CRACK!

  Lightning struck. Hanging out under a tree might not be the best idea, Willy realized. Didn’t lightning strike the high places? And weren’t trees rather . . . high?

  Wi
lly shoved himself away from the tree and ran along the path. Only there was no longer a path. It had been washed away.

  Which way back to the ship? Willy could only guess. He pointed himself in what he thought was the right direction and ran.

  CRACK!

  This time it wasn’t lightning. A large tree branch fell beside him.

  CRACK!

  Then another. It was bad enough getting drenched, but now trees were dropping their body parts on him.

  CRACK!

  More lightning.

  CRACK!

  And tree branches.

  Up ahead he spotted two cabin-size boulders lying next to each other with a triangle of dry space beneath. Willy ran for it and crawled in just as the rain turned to hail. Hail the size of golf balls pounded all around him.

  One hailstone was a bit larger. Make that a lot larger. And it had wings.

  Wait a minute. That was no hailstone. It was Phelps, flapping down out of the storm. He landed in front of Willy and said, “Caw,” which was probably the bird’s way of saying, “Move over, big guy, and pass the Cheerios.”

  Willy moved over, and Phelps crawled in beside him. The two of them watched the storm rage on. Lightning flashed; tree branches fell. It was a long time before the hail turned back to rain.

  Willy stayed under the protection of the boulders until it stopped. Then he crawled out and got to his feet. He had no idea what time it was, but it seemed like he’d been under the boulders for ages. “Hmm,” Willy said. “Time flies even when you’re not having fun. Back to the ship, Phelps. Follow me.”

  “Caw,” said Phelps as he took to the air.

  If there was no sign of the trail before the hailstorm, there was certainly no sign of it now. Willy stepped over and around the fallen tree branches and kept moving in what he thought was the right direction. The miles clicked by.

  He shivered from the cold. “Climb inside the ship and turn on the heat—that’s the ticket,” he said to himself. “Dry out, watch a movie, and head back to good ol’ planet Earth.”

  That was the plan, anyway.

  But when he pushed through the trees into the clearing, there was no ship. No classmates. No Mr. Jipthorn. Willy spun around. Obviously this was the wrong clearing. He started back the way he’d come, wondering where he’d taken a wrong turn. And that’s when he spotted his duffel, lying where he’d left it after releasing Phelps. It was the right clearing after all.

  But where was the ship? Willy scanned the sky above. Nothing but dark clouds.

  And no sign of the Starlite 3000.

  Chapter 5

  Alone

  “Really?” Willy looked up and searched from one end of the sky to the other. “Are you kidding me?”

  Being stranded on another planet had to be one of the worst things that could ever happen to a person. Worse than being picked last in kickball. Worse than being force-fed Brussels sprouts. Worse than—

  Well, let’s just say it was worse than a lot of things. You name it. Being stranded on a distant planet had to be worse.

  Willy stood in the middle of the clearing. He thought of his tearful mother, standing in the school parking lot, and his last words to her: See you soon. See you soon? Not likely. Not without a spaceship to get him home.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he muttered.

  He scanned the sky above. Sooner or later someone would see that he was missing. The ship would turn around and pick him up. “Any second now,” he said out loud. He looked up at the sky again.

  But “any second now” came and went. So did any minute now. Willy was confused. How could they have left without him? Wasn’t it the teacher’s job to make sure everyone was on board?

  It was the teacher’s job, all right. But Mr. Jipthorn wasn’t exactly in his right mind.

  As you probably remember, the rain had not only come down in sheets, it had come down in blankets. The wind blew; lightning cracked.

  So did the branches. Trees were dropping their body parts all over the place. One of these body parts—a rather large one, in fact—landed on Mr. Jipthorn’s head, and down he went, unconscious.

  Max the pilot, who looked a lot like Willy’s uncle Ralph but was in fact an android and had android strength, picked up Mr. Jipthorn and carried him onto the ship. The kids followed. Outside, the storm raged on.

  CRACK!

  More tree limbs.

  CRACK!

  And lightning strikes.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Max said as he fired up the Starlite 3000. “Is everyone on board?”

  “Yes!” the kids yelled. They were too scared to really check. The lightning was getting closer, and now they could hear hail—golf-ball size, with a few watermelon-size ones thrown in—smacking the ship. “Get us out of here, Max!”

  And so Max did. The Starlite lifted off the ground and rocketed away.

  Willy kept glancing up at the sky. “Really?” he kept saying.

  After a while he walked over to his duffel, unzipped it, and pulled out his jacket. Besides Phelps, he had packed only two other items, his jacket and a joke book. He had really wanted to make Max laugh. When he ran out of jokes he knew by memory, the book would give him plenty more.

  Now he didn’t care if he made anyone laugh. He was stranded on a faraway planet, in a faraway solar system. Laughing was the last thing on his mind.

  He flipped open the book to a random page and read out loud. “What’s black and white and read all over? A newspaper.”

  Nope, Willy wasn’t in a laughing mood.

  He closed the book and sat down on his duffel, which wasn’t exactly dry, but at least it wasn’t muddy. Then he watched the sky. The clouds were starting to clear, but there was no sign of the ship. He wondered how cold it got at night on Planet Ed. And what about food and water?

  Panic grabbed him. What if his classmates didn’t figure it out? What if they didn’t realize he was missing? What if he really was stranded? What if—

  Willy heard something.

  “Willy Maykit, where are you?”

  Someone, or something, was calling his name. He hadn’t given much thought to the creatures of Planet Ed, but apparently they knew his name.

  “Willy Maykit.”

  There it was again. Willy got to his feet and grabbed one of the fallen branches. He cocked it back like a baseball bat, ready to swing.

  “Willy.”

  The voice was getting closer. Whatever came through those trees was in trouble. Willy would swing first and ask questions later.

  But what if the creatures of Planet Ed were enormous? Clonking this one with a tree branch probably wouldn’t help much. Willy glanced at the branch in his hand. It was all he had to work with.

  The voice came again. “Willy, are you there?”

  Willy kept his mouth shut. If it was an enormous creature, he’d have to swing plenty hard to bring it down. He crouched, tree branch cocked and ready.

  And then—

  The creature came crashing through the bushes into the clearing.

  Only it wasn’t a creature. And it certainly wasn’t enormous. In fact, it was someone Willy recognized.

  “Cindy Das! What are you doing here?” Willy was so shocked at seeing her that he forgot to say “Mumble, mumble, mumble.”

  Even Cindy noticed. “Wow, you can speak in full sentences.”

  “What are you doing here?” Willy asked again.

  “I saw you weren’t on the ship, so I went looking for you.” Her almost-smile appeared. “I slipped out the back door.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” Willy spun around, gesturing to the emptiness of the clearing. “See anything missing?”

  Cindy nodded. “I didn’t think they’d leave without us.”

  “Me neither.”

  Chapter 6

  Not Alone

  But at least now he wasn’t alone. Willy pointed to his duffel. “Have a seat, Cindy. It’s hardly muddy at all.”

  Cindy sat down, and Willy joined her.


  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “Good question.”

  The two of them sat and watched the sky. Willy felt a little less afraid now that he wasn’t alone. Misery loves company. So do people stranded on faraway planets.

  They kept scanning for the Starlite 3000. Still no sign of it. Meanwhile, the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky.

  “They’ll figure it out,” Cindy said after a while. “They’ll be here any minute. I’m almost sure of it.”

  Almost? Willy gave her a look and saw that her almost-smile had vanished. Cindy Das was never without her almost-smile.

  The sun went down, and out came a couple of moons, one white and one orange. They gave them just enough light to see. Just enough light to see that no one was coming to their rescue.

  “Any ideas?” Cindy asked.

  Willy shrugged. “Sleep?”

  The ground was still soggy, but it was a little drier beneath one of the trees where there was a bed of pine needles (or the Planet Ed version of pine needles), and soon they had a comfy place to lie down.

  Willy was about to doze off when Cindy asked, “Why’d you do it, Willy?”

  “Why’d I do what?”

  “Why did you wander off? Didn’t you hear Mr. Jipthorn tell us not to?”

  Willy gazed up at the two moons, thinking of his father. “Exploring is in my blood. I couldn’t help but wander off.”

  Cindy nodded like she understood.

  They were quiet for a while, listening to the wind through the trees and to the Planet Ed version of crickets. Willy stared up at the stars. “Night, Dad,” he whispered.

  Willy’s father was a little too far away to hear his son’s whispers. As you know, he had vanished into the Amazon jungle a year earlier. Here’s the good news: He wasn’t dead. His heart was beating as strong as ever.