Attack of the BULLIES

“I told you! 1987!”

“Why do you think that?” Duncan said.

Ruby pointed to her swollen noggin. “The allergies don’t lie! I think I’m allergic to something big—something like my friends vanishing from existence. I don’t know. This one’s not part of the 8,765 cataloged reactions my upgrades can detect.”

“Ruby, you need to calm down. Back up and try to help us understand,” Heathcliff said.

Ruby snatched him by the collar. “She erased him!”

“First, you’re choking me to death. Second, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Heathcliff said, trying to pull himself away and failing. For a wiry girl, Ruby Peet was strong.

“Ruby, you’re tired. We were up late last night searching—”

“Yes! That’s it! I can prove it. Remember that news clipping we found? The one from 1987 that had a photo with Miss Information and the BULLIES in it? Follow me!”

Heathcliff followed her through the maze of arcade games. Suddenly, Ruby started pumping tokens into the one they had been using the previous night. She tapped a few buttons and pulled on the joystick and the old newspaper article they had found reappeared. There was the photo of the car accident with Ms. Holiday, Tessa, and the BULLIES.

“The computer glitch,” Heathcliff said.

“No!” Ruby shouted. “I know I told you that you were causing the software to overload, but what if you weren’t? What if this is an actual picture of Ms. Holiday and Tessa Lipton?”

“That’s not possible,” Duncan said.

“Someone from Flinch’s family must have been at this accident!” she cried, pointing at the photo. “She’s changed the past. She’s erased our friend.”

“Listen, I love Doctor Who as much as the next guy, but time travel isn’t possible,” the principal said.

“You still don’t believe me? Then how do you explain this?” she asked, waving the drafting paper they had found in the evil Playground.

“What is it?” the principal said.

Heathcliff took it and smoothed out the wrinkles. His eyes grew big. His heart began to race. He felt like he might pass out. “She built a time machine!” he cried. The more he read, the more he realized that the woman hadn’t tried to build a time machine … she had built a time machine.

“And she’s using it to erase us one by one,” Ruby cried out in a panic.

Heathcliff tried to calm his breathing. “I—I think Ruby’s right. I think she might be allergic to changes in the space-time continuum. That might be why she remembers this Flinch kid and we don’t.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! My allergies have been going haywire all day.”

“So what do we do?” Duncan said. Ruby pointed to the designs. “We need our own time machine. We need to go back and stop her. Heathcliff, you get the scientists started on these plans while the rest of us go get him.”

“Who is ‘him’?” Matilda asked.

“The world’s worst oboe player!”

Alexander Brand was trying to write a song about his feelings. He had decided early on that it should be a country-and-western song because all the best songs about broken hearts were country-and-western. The lyrics would have to be about a bad librarian who liked to break a man’s heart before dashing off to do it to someone else. He even decided on a name for the song: “The Screwy Decimal System.” Unfortunately, the song had three strikes against it. First, you can’t play a sad country-and-western song on an oboe. Second, Brand was the furthest thing from a poet. And third, his singing was almost as bad as his oboe playing.

He carried the instrument out to the dock and sat down on the folding chair. He inserted the reed into his mouth, inhaled, and began to play a few jerky notes. Then he stopped and sang.

She fined my heart like an overdue book.

Threw me on the shelving cart without a second look.

I’ve walked a sad road all across this nation,

And I can’t get my heart back into circulation.

“You really are bad at the oboe, boss.”

He didn’t have to see who it was. He recognized Ruby’s stubborn voice.

He turned to face her.

Duncan, Matilda, Jackson, and the principal stood next to her. Duncan had a handkerchief in his hands and the principal was holding a length of rope. Ruby held the costume head of a cartoon mouse in her hands.

“Your girlfriend built a time machine,” Ruby said. “She’s gone back to muck up the past. She’s already erased a member of the team. This is the biggest threat we have ever faced, and we need your help.”

Brand shook his head. “I already told you I wouldn’t go back,” he grumbled.

“OK, well, don’t say I didn’t try to be nice,” Ruby said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small aerosol can, aimed it at his face, and sprayed. A white mist filled his nose and mouth.

“What is this?” But he knew what it was. He’d seen it in the Playground. It was going to make him sleepy. Very, very sleepy.

Duncan shoved the handkerchief into his mouth, and the principal tied his hands. A moment later the costumed head of a cartoon rat plunged him into darkness.

People in the diner were staring.

“What? You’ve never seen a woman in a skull mask eating a slice of pie before?” Miss Information asked.

They turned their eyes back to their meals, though they shot nervous glances at her from time to time.

“I don’t think it’s you,” Snot Rocket whispered. “I think it’s your boyfriend.”

Miss Information cuddled up to the scarecrow. “Ah, 1995,” she said. “So quaint. Don’t you just love the clothes and the hair, Alex? Everyone is so unkempt.”

“When are we going to get to work?” Funk asked. The boy had refused to order anything and sat with his arms crossed.

“Sweetie pie, you are working,” she said. “We’ve already checked off one of our targets.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Funk said, steamed. “We harassed some Mexican guy and hopped around on that time machine, and all we have to show for it is a bunch of upset stomachs.”

Thor still looked a little pale.

Miss Information pointed her fork at Funk’s face. “That Mexican guy was the grandfather of one of our enemies. His son and daughter-in-law had two children, and one of them happened to be the hyperactive strong boy who kicked your butts at the White House. Well, guess what? He was never born—at least not in the United States. He’s not in D.C., he doesn’t have superstrength, and he didn’t beat you up yesterday. We literally bullied him out of existence. You’re giving the future an atomic wedgie it’ll never forget!”

The BULLIES cheered—all except for Tessa.

Miss Information watched her closely. When Tessa noticed, she smiled weakly.

“So, what are we doing in 1995?” Tammy asked.

“We’re here to interrupt a first date,” she said.

Benjy floated out of the paper bag that was lying on the table.

Diners rose from their seats and made a beeline for the exit.

“Aiah Dewey met her husband, the father of one Duncan Dewey, on this day in this diner … And here she comes now,” Miss Information said as bells jingled on the front door.

In walked Aiah, a beautiful seventeen-year-old. She and her gaggle of friends giggled and chatted until they saw Miss Information’s mask, the floating ball, and the scarecrow. Their laughter stopped, and they tentatively took a booth in the back of the restaurant, as far from the motley crew as possible.

“Tessa, you’re up,” she said. “Our Romeo should be along any minute.”

Tessa nodded and went to work on her face. A few twists here, a few turns there, and soon she was the mirror image of Aiah Dewey. Even her hair was identical.

There was another jingle at the door and a tall, handsome teenager walked into the diner. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans covered in grease smears.