Meet the Gecko by Wendelin Van Draanen
I scrolled through the first page of Web addresses, and when I saw “Real pictures, Real aliens!” my heart started racing. And when I vis-ited the site and found an image of a huge, slimy green slug dripping with disgusting green pus, I knew I'd found the Mole's new body.
Oh, yeah!
I worked and worked and worked until I got the Mole's face superimposed onto the slug's body. It looked great! Really real!
Next, I added some ugly green arms and put the Mole's camera in between slimy green suction-cup hands.
It was disgusting!
It was vile!
Oh, yeah!
Then I made up a page like you see in those stu-pid magazines by grocery store checkout stands. I played around with different fonts and finally picked an old-fashioned typewriter-style one for the headline:
JOEL BOWL EXPOSED!
And under that came the story:
Joel Bowl, the notorious “Mole,” was seen yesterday in Cedar Valley, California, where The Gecko and Sticky is being filmed on location. Members of the entertainment community have long suspected Mr. Bowl to be nothing but an oversized, revolting gastropod, but now proof is at hand. Will the garden community of Cedar Valley tolerate this invasion of slime, stench, and visual horror? Or will this perennial pest be driven away, perhaps once and for all? Stay tuned… we'll keep you posted.
Then I put the Slug-Mole picture on the page, added a background of Old Town that I lifted from the Cedar Valley Chamber of Commerce Web site, and presto! I had the Mole just where I wanted him.
Dad popped his head through my door. “How's it going, champ?”
“Great! Come in! You've got to see this!” He hadn't knocked, but who cared?
Dad stood behind me, looking at my computer monitor. He started shaking his head. “How in the world did you do that?”
“Piece of cake, Dad.”
“Oh, right.” He sat down on the edge of my bed, still looking at the monitor. “So now what?”
I gave the page one last save and said, “Now we go do a search.”
“For?”
I reopened my Internet connection. “For ‘Joel Bowl’ plus ‘the Mole. ’”
“Because?”
“Because that way the search engine will check the entire World Wide Web for any sites that have both Joel Bowl and the Mole in their text.”
“I know, but why are you searching for that?”
“Because …” Just then the computer displayed Web site found and then Found: 87 matches for “Joel Bowl” + “the Mole.” “Wa-hoo! Eighty-seven matches!”
“But why?”
I opened up the first site and said, “Because most Web sites have e-mail addresses. I'm going to collect them and send everyone who knows the Mole or hates the Mole a picture of him. I'm going to do to him what he does to other people!”
Dad was starting to nod. “Planning to fight fire with fire?”
I grinned at him and said, “More like give him a taste of his own medicine.”
Dad stood up and laughed. “By the time you're done with him, there's no doubt he's going to hate the flavor.”
Oh, yeah!
CHAPTER 7
The Mole Tastes His Own Medicine
One of the eighty-seven sites I looked at was for a newspaper in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Someone there really hated the Mole! There was an article in the archives that cut him down low!
Said he was a liar.
An embarrassment to journalism.
Said his work stank like a sewage line.
They didn't have a picture of him, though.
And they called him Mr. Bowl.
Did they really think that would stop him?
Obviously they didn't have much experience with sneaks and bullies!
I added their e-mail address to the others I'd collected. They were going to love my slimy Slug-Mole!
There was also a television station in Los Angeles that had “journalist Joel Bowl, known to celebrities as the Mole…,” but it was an old link and didn't take me anywhere. I copied and pasted the station's e-mail address, anyway.
You never know.
By the time I'd gone through all the Web sites, I had learned lots about the Mole.
He ruined lives!
People hated him!
He was even worse than The Gecko had told me. He was wicked!
Evil!
A true villain!
Well! Maybe he'd gotten away with it so far, but he'd never gone nose to nose with Shredderman before!
I clicked on Compose.
I put MOLE ALERT! (Truth and Justice can prevail!) in the subject line of a new e-mail.
Then I wrote a short note and attached the Slug-Mole page. The note said:
He's a pest! A nuisance! An ugly line of slime across the pages of honest journalism! Lawsuits don't stop him—he oozes out of them. And now we know why! The Mole is really a Slug! Help expose him for who he is! Forward this picture to every journalist, paper, reporter, or celebrity you know! Let's show the world who Joel “the Mole” Bowl really is!
Yours in truth and justice,
Shredderman
I added all the e-mail addresses I found to the To box.
There were a lot!
I spell-checked everything and was in the middle of giving my mass mailing a final inspection when…
Knock-knock-knock!
I banged my knee.
I spun around.
Mom peeked into my room. “Where's my birthday boy?”
“Mo-om!”
She came in. “Don't you Mo-om me!” She gave me a squeaky smooch on my cheek and said, “I heard you had an outstanding adventure today. Tell me all about it!”
“I have to finish this first.”
She squatted next to my chair and looked at the monitor. “Your dad said you were busy shredding on some sleazy reporter. Can I see?”
“Uh…”
“Don't worry! I may not be your sidekick, but I am in your corner. Let's see.”
So I showed her. And she loved the Slug- Mole! But when she saw my message and all the people I was sending it to, she started fidgeting.
Her smile turned twitchy.
Her eyes went into hyper-blink.
She said a lot of Uhs and Buts and Do-you-thinks, and finally she just came out and said, “I don't think this is such a good idea, Nolan. I know you've spent all day on it, but I don't want him to sue us.”
I scowled at her. Fear holds no power over the pursuit of truth and justice!
“Mo-om!”
“I'm serious, Nolan. Let me talk this over with your dad, okay?”
“No!”
Her eyebrows flew to the ceiling.
Her jaw dropped to the floor.
But I held my ground. “He's not going to sue us! He doesn't even know who I am!”
“But—”
“He's a jerk! A liar! He's made up stories about people for years!”
“But—”
“He gets a picture of someone blinking and says they're on drugs! He takes a head and puts it on someone else's body. He photographs people reaching for something and says they're stealing it. You should read all the things I found on the Internet today! People are really hurt by him, and nobody seems to be able to stop him! Even The Gecko's afraid of him! He hides in his room because he's afraid to go out.”
“Oh, I don't believe that.”
“It's true!”
“But, Nolan—”
I crossed my arms and frowned at her. “You're making me wish I'd never told you I was Shredderman.”
She was quiet.
“Mom,” I said softly. “I want to stop him. You should want to stop him, too.”
“But…”
“Sometimes you have to risk a little in the search for truth and justice.”
She looked in my eyes. She looked long and hard.
I didn't blink.
I didn't look away.
I just sat there, steady.
Final
I nodded.
She stared at it another minute, then reached over and took my mouse.
I wanted to grab it away from her!
She moved the pointer until it hovered over Send.
What was she doing?
“May I?” she asked me.
Now she wanted to send it? But…I looked at the pointer. I looked at her. I'd spent my whole birthday putting this e-mail together—I wanted to click on Send. The moment of Send is the grand finale! Just thinking about the information zipping around the world faster than I can blink makes my head float. It's mind-boggling! Astounding!
I love clicking the Send button!
But there was my mom, with her hand on my mouse, the pointer hovering over Send.
She had a grin on her face.
She looked like a kid.
A happy kid.
And I could tell that she wasn't doing this just because it was my birthday.
She was doing it because truth and justice were important to her, too.
More important than getting into trouble.
So finally I nodded and said, “Go ahead.”
And with that, she clicked, and my Mole Alert message flew around the globe.
CHAPTER 8
On the Set!
The next day at school, Bubba was talking about how he'd gone to the Gecko and Sticky shoot. How The Gecko had said, “Hey, dude” to him between takes. “I'm going back today,” Bubba boasted loud enough for everyone around to hear. “And this time I'm gonna get on the set.”
“How ya gonna do that?” Kevin asked him.
“I got ways of makin' it happen,” Bubba said with a smirk.
Max said, “Can we come, too?”
Bubba squinted at him. “Don't be stupid.”
Max shrugged. “Hey, we could, you know, help you get past security or something. You said there was tons of guards and stuff keeping people back.”
“Like they're gonna stop me?” He looked around at all the kids listening and snorted, “Ha!”
I had come to school dying to tell someone, anyone, that I had met The Gecko.
That I had gotten his autograph.
That I had a picture of the two of us.
That I had been in his hotel room and played him in Tekken 3!
But after hearing Bubba talk, I felt like I couldn't tell a soul. It would have been like bragging.
And, knowing Bubba, it would have gotten me pounded.
So I sat in class wishing. Wishing that I had a friend I could tell. A friend I could trust. It had been the greatest day of my life, and I couldn't tell anyone about it! I couldn't even tell anyone about the present my parents had given me for my birthday—a high-tech, ultra-lightweight, mega-adjustable, totally cool spy tool.
A collapsible periscope!
I could now spy around doorways!
Over fences!
Maybe I couldn't fly or turn invisible, but with a periscope like this, I could really shred on bad guys!
But that was exactly why I couldn't show it to anyone. The first thing they'd ask would be, “What do you need that for?”
It was hard enough being Shredderman and not telling anyone he was me. All the kids at school—well, except Bubba—loved Shredder-man. They thought he was cool and funny and smart and… awesome.
Me they thought of as a nerd.
If only they could see!
But the fight for truth and justice was bigger than wanting friends.
Bigger than being called Nerd.
Bigger than me.
So keeping my present and my secret identity to myself wasn't that hard. But not being able to tell any of my classmates that I'd met The Gecko was torture!
By the end of school, I felt really rotten.
It was no fun having no friends.
No fun at all.
The minute I got home, things changed.
“Nolan! There you are!” my mom cried, getting up from her desk.
Normally my mom's happy to see me, but this was more than that. She was practically busting at the seams. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Your friend Chase called and invited you to watch them shoot this afternoon.”
That word “friend” threw me for a second. “The… The Gecko called? Here?”
“Well, not exactly. Someone named Henna Blockwell called your father at the Gazette. But the point is, Chase Morton thought you were very nice and has invited you to come, you know, hang around backstage… or whatever they call it.”
I was standing stock-still, staring at her. Finally I choked out, “Really?”
She laughed and kissed my cheek. “Really! Your father's there already, covering a-day-in-the-life-of-The-Gecko for the Gazette, so come on. Do you need a snack before we go?”
I shook my head. I still couldn't seem to blink.
She grabbed a couple of juice pouches anyway, and at the last minute said, “Don't forget your camera! And fresh batteries!”
My mom's the best.
I keep my camera in my backpack. Along with extra batteries, binoculars, string, tape, scissors… and now, one very cool periscope.
So I just took my backpack, and off we went. And by the time we got to Old Town, I'd taken my binder and all my homework books out of it, secured the camera in its special pouch with the secret lens port, and stashed the remote control in my sweatshirt pocket.
My spy-pack was ready!
The cool thing about wearing a spy-pack is that it's like having an eyeball in the back of your head.
No one expects it!
No one suspects it!
And once you figure out how to take pictures backward, it's amazing who you can catch In-The-Act!
I love my spy-pack!
I was testing out my remote control when Mom asked, “Why in the world are you doing all that?”
“Because you never know,” I said.
“But I'm sure he'll just let you take pictures of him.”
I grinned at her. “But I'm sure the Mole won't.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You think he'll be there again?”
“I have a sneaking suspicion.”
She shook her head. “You're invited to watch the filming of your favorite show of all time, and you're thinking about the Mole? I just don't get it.”
Neither did I, but inside something was telling me to be ready.
Just in case.
CHAPTER 9
And… Action!
After we got our special GUEST badges and cleared security, we were ushered into the hotel. They were getting ready to shoot a scene right in the main lobby!
Mom spotted Dad, who was standing about ten feet behind a camera. We got over to him just as a guy with a patchy little beard called, “Picture's up! Quiet on the set, we're rolling!”
“That's the director,” Dad whispered.
“Shhhh!” my mom scolded him.
A lady stuck a clapboard with all sorts of num-bers on it in front of a camera, then pulled it away. The director called, “Action!” and suddenly evil Damien Black appeared at the top of the stairs. He snuck down on his tiptoes! His eyes were darting all around! He had on a long coat. Black boots. A twisty mustache. He was holding a long double-bladed ax!
I had the powerful urge to hiss.
Damien Black is sooooo nasty!
The Gecko was around the corner, trying to switch the power ingot in his magic wristband from super-strength to wall-walker. He was trapped! And since the magic wristband only allows for one power at a time, he was in trouble!
“And cut!” the director cried. Then he called, “Live gecko inside Chase's sweatshirt. Let's go!”
I whispered, “This is so cool, Dad! Thank you! Thank-you-thank-you!”
People scurried all around, moving cameras, moving chairs. Chase grinned at me and tossed his head back a little like, Hey! while a lady patted powder on his nose and forehead
I waved and smiled.
Was I dreaming?
My mother squeezed my arm and smiled at me. “Pretty interesting, isn't it?” she whispered.
I nodded. It was amazing to be on the set of my favorite show.
And very… strange.
Someone gave Chase a gecko.
A gecko? What was I thinking? They gave him Sticky!
The funniest sidekick of all time!
Chase stroked Sticky on the head and talked to him quietly. Sticky looked kind of small. And brown. The real Sticky's orange. With yellow stripes. And sometimes sunglasses!
I took out my binoculars and zoomed in on the two of them. Wow. Sticky might look different, but Chase was really talking to him. And I swear Sticky was talking back! I could practically hear him saying, “Ay-chihuahua. Eees theees the best you got?”
Then Chase put Sticky inside his sweatshirt, held on to him, and gave the director a nod.
I kept watching through my binoculars.
“Quiet on the set!” the director called. “Close-up on his shoulder. And… action!”
Chase let go of Sticky and put his hand back on his power-band. In a flash, Sticky wriggled out of the sweatshirt and up onto Chase's shoulder. His head moved from side to side, then he sort of jumped on top of Chase's ball cap and looked around.
After a second of Sticky looking around, the director called, “And cut!”
Everyone started talking at once.
Chase was grinning from ear to ear.
The director was, too. “Unbelievable!” he said. “On a first take, too! And that bonus jump on the head! Beautiful! Brilliant! That's what I like from my radical reptiles! Whatever you said to him, Chase, nice work.”
Chase was taking Sticky off his hat, still grinning away. “Hey. Just call me the guy who talks to geckos!”
Everyone laughed. Then Mom whispered across me to Dad, “I always thought it was some kind of robot. Or computer animation.”
Dad nodded. “They tell me that most of it is computer-generated. They have a toy gecko and a remote-controlled gecko, but they use a live one sometimes, too.” He laughed. “They sure couldn't have gotten the remote-controlled one to jump on his head!”
“They must've gotten lucky with that.”