Shadows of Caesar's Creek (9 page)

“Did you bring your Space Camp stuff?” Rashawn asked the other boys.

“It's right here in my backpack,” Rico answered, pulling out a folder of forms and instructions.

“This is going to be so cool!” Jerome and Ziggy pulled out their paperwork as well. “I can't wait to get to Space Camp, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed as he sucked the chocolate off the pbickle. “Wouldn't it be awesome to go into space for real?”

“Yeah,” Jerome said. “I wonder what you have to do to be an astronaut.”

“I never thought about it,” Rashawn said. “But I suppose there's lots of training.”

“You gotta learn how to read the instruments and fly the space shuttle,” Rico offered. “And know what to do if you have to walk in space and fix something on the outside of the shuttle.”

“I figure you need to practice what it feels like to be weightless so you don't throw up, mon!” Ziggy added.

“When we get to Space Camp, you practice that one by yourself —okay, Ziggy?” Jerome laughed, held his nose, and moved to a chair away from Ziggy.

“Let's go over this stuff, so the Black Dinosaurs Space Team is ready,” Rico said. “I can't believe my dad is
taking us all the way to Huntsville, Alabama, for the weekend. I hope it's warmer there than it is here in Ohio!”

“Your dad is the bomb, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed. “I know you only see him on vacations and stuff, but that is so cool that he's a pilot in the air force.”

“Yeah, my dad really is all right,” Rico replied. “He took me up in a jet last year on my birthday.”

“Awesome!” Jerome said.

“Did you throw up?” Ziggy asked.

“Of course not! You focus on the strangest things, Ziggy.” Rico shook his head.

“How long will it take to get there?” Rashawn asked.

“My dad says about seven hours by car. We go from Cincinnati, through Louisville, Kentucky, and Nashville, Tennessee, all the way down to Huntsville. But that's not counting stops at fast-food places or to see cool stuff,” Rico told him.

“You think we can find our hometown chili dogs in Alabama?” Jerome asked. “Cincinnati makes the best chili in the world.”

“You know,
every
city thinks its chili is the best,” Rico replied with a grin.

“It's even better if you put jelly on your chili dogs, mon,” Ziggy said cheerfully. “Gives them that extra-sweet flavor!”

“Yuck!” Jerome, Rashawn, and Rico all threw sofa pillows at Ziggy, who dodged them easily.

“So, what do we take with us besides bug spray?” Jerome asked as he glanced at the stacks of papers that Rico was handing each of them.

“There are no bugs in space, mon!” Ziggy said with authority, holding two of the sofa pillows on his lap.

“Yeah, but I bet there are plenty in Huntsville!” Jerome replied. “I take no chances, my man!”

“Let's see,” Rico said, reading from the top page of the instructions. “Toothbrush and stuff, pajamas, socks, deodorant …”

“Don't forget that!” Rashawn said with a laugh.

“It also says not to bring portable music players or handheld video games,” Rico continued.

“Not even my Mega Mighty Martian Blasters game?” Ziggy asked with dismay. “How will we practice dealing with invading Martian spacemen without that game?”

“Maybe we'll get real information instead of pretend video-game stuff,” Rico replied sensibly.

“You mean it's not real? There aren't any Martians out there ready to attack Earth, mon?” Ziggy rolled off his chair and onto the floor, making zapping sounds like a space weapon.

“Probably not, Ziggy,” Jerome told him. “But maybe you can ask somebody about it when we get there.”

“If there's even just a possibility that Martian invaders might be real, I want to be ready, just in case. Martians are purple, have three heads, and spit fire, you know, unless they're in disguise. They can make themselves look like anything they want—a cat, a dog, even an Earthling.”

“How do you know this?” Rashawn asked him.

Ziggy looked at him with surprise. “Because I've played the game a million times, mon!”

Rico laughed. “What else did you learn from that game, Ziggy?”

“Martians live in trees and eat rocks, mostly. But they have a special fondness for chocolate-covered pickles, just like I do, so they can't be all bad!”

“I bet the folks at Space Camp don't know any of this,” Jerome told Ziggy.

“Well, I'll be sure to tell them! I guess the future of the planet is going to depend on me, mon,” Ziggy said. “I can't wait to get to Space Camp!”