Double Trouble Page 2

  I turned to Beep. “Did you hear that?” I whispered. “He’s getting all the credit!”

  “Backward Bob-mother did do all work.”

  “Yeah, but . . . but . . .” It still didn’t seem fair. I cleared my throat and entered the room. “A-ahem.”

  Everyone spun and gasped.

  “Oh no,” Lani’s friend Zenith said. “Not two of them.”

  Professor Zoome folded her arms. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  “Uh, just a little duplication incident,” I explained. “What can you do?”

  “Yes, what can you do, Bob”—Professor Zoome turned—“and Bob?”

  “Actually, from now on,” I said, “you should probably just refer to me as ‘Bob’ or ‘Bob Prime,’ and call that one ‘Backward Bob.’ This all goes into my splog, and I really don’t want to confuse my readers.”

  “I’m sure they are plenty confused already,” Professor Zoome said.

  I patted Backward Bob on the back. “Anyway, thanks for finishing my tower in time for the big competition. I can take over from here.” I eyed the Eiffel Space Tower model and smiled.

  “Hey, you can’t take credit for that,” Zenith said. “The other Beep and Bob are the ones who made it.”

  “Yeah,” I explained, “but Beep and I made them.”

  “And I made the classroom rules,” Professor Zoome said, pointing to a poster on the wall.

  I gulped. “Did I mention it was kind of an accident?”

  She pointed again.

  I slumped. “So now what?”

  “Now, Bob,” she said, “you will be marked tardy and you will take your seat. Only you have no seat, since it is currently occupied by your double, so you will have to jam into one space together.”

  Beep clapped. “Jam, yay! Beep like strawberry.”

  Beep Two clapped. “Beep Two, too!”

  I hung my head and mumbled, “Could this morning get any worse?”

  “And once you are seated,” Professor Zoome said, “please clear your desk for a pop math quiz.”

  And there was my answer.

  Splog Entry #6:

  Bad Breaking

  In case you’re wondering, it’s pretty awkward having to share a desk with yourself. Especially if you’re a chair hog.

  I raised my hand. “Professor Zoome? Backward Bob is pushing me off my seat!”

  “My pardons,” Backward Bob said. “But I was only doing so because he keeps trying to copy my answers.” He shot me an evil glare.

  Professor Zoome gasped. “Bob, I am very disappointed you would cheat off another student.”

  “But he’s not another student. He’s me!”

  “No, Bob,” she said, “he is your reverse. You are impulsive; he exercises self-control. You rush through work; he takes his time. Your hair gets poofier on your right side; his gets poofier on his left.”

  “Poofier?” I said.

  “Moving along,” Professor Zoome said, “in light of today’s incident, we will review objects in nature that come in doubles. Can anyone give me an example?”

  Lani raised her hand. “A double star. Which is when two stars are near each other, forming one system.” She smiled. “You get two sunsets. Now that’s pretty.”

  Zenith raised her hand. “Double helix. Which is the name of a twisting molecular shape that forms things like DNA.”

  “Excellent,” Professor Zoome said. “Any more?”

  Beep raised his hand. “Ooh, ooh! Double ice cream scoop! Beep love double ice cream scoop!”

  Professor Zoome sighed. “Obviously, this lesson is at an end. Please line up for music class, and don’t forget to bring your transdimensional flutes.”

  Well, surprise, surprise, Backward Bob turned out to be a better flute player than I am, a better science student, and a better cometball player. He was even better at lunch—he picked healthier foods and chewed his food longer!

  By the time we had to leave for the moon (to cheer him on for his awesome, amazing project), I was pretty much not in the mood.

  “Class,” Professor Zoome said, “please proceed to the Astrobus docking bay. Blastoff is in ten minutes.”

  I eyed Backward Bob, who was struggling to get his Eiffel Space Tower model through the Astrobus door. “Spin it left,” he said to Beep Two. “No, other left!”

  Spotting my opportunity, I quickly floated over. “Need some help?”

  “You can help by floating into a black hole,” he said.

  Not to be discouraged, I grabbed one of the tower supports near the bottom. “The simplest way to fit it through the door would be to”—I twisted with all my might—“break it!”

  The class gasped.

  “Bob,” Professor Zoome said, “what are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just trying to”—I gave the model a chop—“destroy this thing!”

  Lani pulled me away.

  Blaster the bully pointed. “Ha! He didn’t even damage it.”

  I didn’t?

  Backward Bob folded his arms, and his eyes did that glinting thing again. “Poor, weak Bob.”

  “Hey, if I’m weak, you are too.”

  He leaned close and grinned. “I’m you backward, remember?”

  “I’ve seen enough!” Professor Zoome said. “Lani, please escort Bob to the office. He won’t be joining us on our trip.”

  “Why do I have to take him?” Lani said.

  Professor Zoome smiled. “Because you are trustworthy and responsible.”

  Lani blushed. “Oh, right. C’mon, Bob, let’s go.”

  “But . . . but . . .”

  Lani leaned close. “Don’t make it worse. It’ll be okay. At least Beep is sticking by you.” She glanced around. “Beep?”

  I spied him next to Beep Two. “Beep, get over here!”

  I hung my head and let her take me away.

  Splog Entry #7:

  Deep, Deep, Deep

  I don’t get it, Bob,” Lani said after we floated for a minute in silence. “Why were you trying to sabotage Backward Bob’s chances of winning a Platinum Ribbon and becoming one of the most famous students in the history of Astro Elementary?”

  “Yeah, he is a real moon-rock-head, huh?”

  Lani stopped. “You’re jealous.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? He’s good at everything! And I’m good at . . . at . . .”

  “Yes?”

  I slumped. “See, that’s just it. I’m not good at anything!”

  “Oh, Bob, that can’t be true. You’re good at, uh, uh, uh . . .”

  “See.”

  “Lunch,” she said. “You’re good at lunch!”

  “But he’s better!”

  “Bob, life isn’t all about the fact that your duplicate—and, okay, everyone else at this school—is better than you at everything. You’re forgetting what’s most important.”

  “Breakfast? Because I’m good at that, too.”

  She looked me in the eyes. “Bob, of everyone I know, you’re the best at simply . . . being good.”

  “Huh?”

  “Think about it,” she said. “You were the one to open the air lock door for Beep and rescue him when he was lost. And now you look after him like a big brother.”

  “Bob-mother,” Beep corrected.

  “And when my pet spider Zilly was floating toward the black hole, it was you who saved her.” (You might have to see some of my earlier splog journals to know what she’s talking about.) “And when I needed cheering up the other day, you told me all those silly jokes.”

  “That was my life story.”

  “Whatever. The point, Bob, is that deep down—”

  “Deep, deep, deep!” Beep added.

  “—you’re a really good guy.”

  A warm feeling rose from my stomach (probably shouldn’t have put so much hot sauce on my waffles). But no, it wasn’t indigestion. It was something else.

  “Being good at doing things is nice, Bob,” Lani said. “B
ut being good to others is better.”

  I blushed. “Gee, Lani, thanks.”

  Beep clapped. “Bob-mother good! Bob-mother good!”

  Lani smiled at me. I smiled at Lani.

  And then Lani’s smile faded.

  “Oh no,” she said.

  “What?”

  Her eyes grew wider. “OH NO!”

  “What?!”

  “If deep down you’re very good, then deep down Backward Bob must be—” She spun. “We have to stop the Astrobus! NOW!”

  And we were off.

  Splog Entry #8:

  Dancing Pirates?

  We shot as fast as we could back to the Astrobus docking bay, and made it just as Backward Bob was carrying his Eiffel Space Tower through the bus door.

  “Someone stop him!” Lani called.

  But no one heard us because they had already boarded. Backward Bob shot us an evil glare as he turned, blocking the entrance.

  “So, I suppose you’ve figured it out,” he said.

  “I’ve figured enough,” Lani said. “If deep down Bob is good, then at your backward little core—”

  “I’m rotten as a bad apple!” Backward Bob finished. “Yes, you’ve discovered my true nature. But you may not have guessed my brilliant plan.”

  “Probably not,” Lani said. “Why don’t you waste time like all villains by slowly explaining it to us?”

  He smirked. “Nice try. But the bus is ready to go, and off to the moon I must be. And what a nice view the moon has of the Earth, that pathetic little planet. All I have to do now is to aim this duplicator ray Earthward”—he held it up—“and I will create a beautiful but horrible backward Earth of my own!”

  Lani gasped. “An evil Earth?! But what’s to stop it from it taking over Earth Prime?”

  Backward Bob raised his arms and cackled. “With me as its leader? Nothing!! Bwhaaa-ha-haaaaaaaaaaaa!”

  Next to him, Beep Two added, “Bwhaaa-ha-yay!”

  The bus door slid closed, locking us out. Backward Bob waved through the window. “See ya. Never again!”

  The Astrobus engines began to roar.

  “Uh-oh, we better get out of here,” I said. I yanked Lani and Beep out of the docking bay and closed the door just as the Astrobus blasted out with a fiery whoosh.

  Instead of thanking me, Lani put her hands on her hips. “When he was giving that long talk, you were supposed to grab him!”

  “How was I supposed to know?”

  “I was flashing you the signal behind my back!”

  “I thought you had an itch.”

  Lani sighed. “Either way, now they’re gone, and we have to think of a plan of our own.”

  I thought for a minute. “I’ve got it! All we need is another duplicator ray, plus a freeze ray, a heat ray, a cupcake ray—in case we get hungry—about two dozen dancing pirates, a sixty-foot-tall android—make that three sixty-foot-tall androids—a starship, a ninja mask, a . . .”

  Beep clapped. “Plan good!”

  “You haven’t even heard it all yet. But it’s foolproof!” I said. “As long as we can get those two dozen dancing pirates.” I slapped my forehead. “But where in the galaxy are we going to get dancing pirates at this hour?”

  Beep pouted. “Plan bad.”

  “Wait, I have another idea!”

  Lani had already reopened the docking bay door. “I have a better plan,” she said, leading us to one of the parked buses. She opened the bus door.

  “Quick, get inside,” she said.

  I stared at her in shock. “Whoa, Lani, I never thought of you as the type who would steal an Astrobus.” She had a bad side. How cool!

  “What are you talking about?!” she said. “I would never steal a bus! I’m using the interbus communicator to warn Professor Zoome.”

  “Wait,” I said, “does that mean you don’t have a bad side?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to help me or what?”

  Beep sat in the driver’s seat and started playing with the steering wheel. “Beep go vroom, vroom!”

  Lani reached for the communicator controls. “Calling the Astrobus headed for Earth’s moon. I repeat, calling the Astrobus headed for Earth’s moon. Come in.”

  The speaker returned nothing but static.

  “You sure you have the right channel?” I asked.

  “Yes! Look, it’s the only bus listed in flight right now. They’re halfway to Earth already!” She tried again, but still nothing.

  “Backward Bob must have switched the channels off,” I said. “He’s just so evil.”

  “Beep go after Backward Bob!” Beep said, spinning the steering wheel again.

  “Stop playing with that,” I said. “You might accidentally turn it on.”

  “Silly Bob-mother. Wheel no turn bus on.” He reached for a green button. “Green button turn bus on!”

  The engines sparked to life.

  “Beep, turn that off!” Lani yelled.

  “Okay, turn,” Beep said, spinning the wheel. He hit the accelerator. “Then off!”

  The Astrobus careened in circles around the docking bay, narrowly missing the walls.

  “GAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I yelled. I pointed to the bay doors, which had slowly begun to open. “Straighten, Beep! Straighten!”

  He sat taller in his seat. “Beep posture bad,” he admitted.

  “STRAIGHTEN THE SHIP!”

  Beep yanked at the wheel, and we shot through the narrow gap of the doors . . . right into space.

  Splog Entry #9:

  Moon Mall Fifty-One

  We all exhaled. “That was close,” I said.

  “Well,” Lani said, “looks like we have a new plan. Can you fly this, Beep?”

  Beep touched the navigation screen, revealing icons of the planets. “Which one Bob-mother want go to? That one? Or that one? Or that one?”

  I gazed at the icon of the blue-green planet I knew so well: my home. “Earth. Take us to the moon of Earth.”

  Beep did as I said. The ship’s computer announced, “Estimated flight time fifteen minutes.”

  I slumped. “Fifteen minutes. That’s like forever!” I studied the control panel. “Can we get any games on this thing?”

  Beep shook his head. “No game.”

  “Movies?”

  Beep cried, “No movie, either!”

  I began to panic. “What are we possibly going to do for fifteen minutes?!”

  “Ahem,” Lani said. “We could use that time to work out our plan. I still don’t understand how dancing pirates fit in.”

  I shrugged. “I forget. Anyway, when it comes to plans, Beep and I pretty much like to wing it.”

  Beep flapped.

  About fourteen long, boring minutes later, the bus began to slow.

  “We’re approaching Earth,” I said.

  The beautiful blue marble grew closer. I pointed at the white moon in its orbit.

  “Take us there, Beep.”

  When he tapped the control panel, a list of the most important moon landing destinations popped up.

  “Moon Mall One,” Beep read. “Moon Mall Two. Moon Mall Three. Moon Mall Fo—”

  “Is there anything other than malls on the moon?” Lani asked.

  I scanned down the list. “Moon Mall Forty-Nine. Moon Mall Fifty. Wait, here it is: Moon Educational Auditorium (soon to be Moon Mall Fifty-One). That’s it, Beep! Take us there as fast as you can, with only one brief stop at Food Court Eleven!”

  “Food court, yay!”

  I pictured Backward Bob making an evil duplicate Earth and gritted my teeth.

  “On second thought, Beep, we can do the food court after we save the planet.”

  Beep gasped. “Bob-mother sure?”

  “Well, maybe if there’s a drive-through . . . No, Beep, my decision stands. To the educational auditorium!”

  Splog Entry #10:

  And the Winner Is . . .

  Sadly, it took a while to park. Astrobuses were descending into a giant glass dome
from every direction.

  “Beep beep!” Beep said to the buses in our way.

  “There’s a spot.” Lani pointed, and Beep swerved the bus into the space and popped open the door.

  “Watch your step,” Lani said. “There’s gravity on the moon, though it’s only one sixth of Earth’s gravity. So each step is like one big bounce.”

  I grabbed Beep by the foot. “Did you have to tell him that?”

  All around us, kids were bouncing from their buses to the giant building, carrying all sorts of ice pop stick models.

  “Look,” Lani said, “there’s a model of Big Space Ben, and one of the Great Space Sphinx. And it looks like that entire class re-created the stone monoliths of Spacehenge!”

  All great space monuments were basically great Earth monuments with the word “space” in them. Probably to keep things simple.

  Over all the heads, I spotted a bobbing Eiffel Space Tower. “Look, that must be our class!” We zigzagged through the crowd and caught up just as they were about to enter the auditorium.

  Professor Zoome did not look happy to see us. “Bob, I thought I sent you to the office!”

  “You did, but . . . but—”

  Lani took over. “We came to warn you: Backward Bob has a horrible plan to make an evil, duplicate Earth! You have to stop him!”

  Professor Zoome raised an eyebrow toward Backward Bob, who was struggling to get his tower through the auditorium door. “Him?”

  “He does seem kind of bumbling,” Lani admitted, “but that’s just an act. He’s actually razor sharp, highly motivated, and ruthless—the opposite of real Bob.”

  “I’m good deep down,” I pointed out.

  “Deep, deep, deep!” Beep added.

  “And I think, Bob,” Professor Zoome said, “that not so deep down you’re envious of his success. I’m sorry, but unless he appears to pose an actual threat, the show must go on.” She spun to bounce away. “See you inside.”

  We followed the crowds into the auditorium. Everyone was setting up their models on rows and rows of long tables.