Chapter 14

14 THE FIX IT! TRUCK SPEEDS THROUGH THE SLOW-MORNING-TRAFFIC streets of Midville, taking corners tight, drifting wide on the turns, and roaring full-throttle down straightaways. Watson wraps his arms around his Universal-Strength Peanut Butter Bubble Gum

boxes. He wonders out loud, "Should that light on the dashboard be blinking red?" Grampa Al gives his gauges a quick glance as he leans into the next turn. "Oh yeah," he says. "This engine likes to run hot. It's a regulation NASCAR 850 horsepower V-8. We are talking—" Squeeeeeeeeaaallll! whine the truck tires on the turn. "—around two thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Just like I used to run in my stockcar- racing days."

"You never told me you used to race stock cars," says Frank, surprised once again by something he doesn't know about his Grampa Al. Grampa Al smiles. "You never asked." He passes two cars on the Oak Street straightaway, downshifts into an S-turn, and passes two more cars coming out high. "But hey, are you sure you don't want to look for Klink and Klank now? You don't have to do this Science Prize for me." "I'm sure," says Frank, grabbing the door handle as Grampa Al brakes hard and fishtails ninety degrees right on Main Street. "I am going to win this prize. Then we can look for Klink and Klank. If you can get us there on time." Grampa Al checks his navy dive watch and gives Frank a nod. "Roger that. And while you guys are in there kicking butt, I will get started looking for Klink and Klank."

Grampa Al floors it past the Midville Cemetery, blows by the courthouse plaza, and weaves around a gold minivan, a blue station wagon, and a poky red pickup truck. Still going full speed, he yanks up the emergency brake and pulls the steering wheel hard left. The truck locks all four wheels and skids sideways to a full stop, perfectly curbside, right in front of City Hall. Tires smoking just a little bit. "Hit the beach, guys!" Frank and Watson pile out of the truck. Watson lugs his boxes of gum and poster- board display. Frank grabs his ultralight Antimatter Motor Fly Bike. Together they race up the wide stadium steps of the white- marbled and many-columned City Hall building into a swarm of kids carrying working-eye models, prime-number charts, fruitfly genetics displays, blown-up earthworm dissections, a poster of photon and positron

emissions from a black hole, solar panels, optical illusions, and, yes, baking-soda volcanoes. The herd of one hundred kid scientists pours into the high-ceilinged cavern of the main hall under the enormous banner of the sponsor, GrabCo. Each scientist checks in with GrabCo officials, receives a GRABCO SCIENCE PRIZE CONTESTANT badge, and is directed to a numbered spot in the maze of tables filling the patterned marble floor. The packed main hall hums like some kind of gargantuan beehive filled with a swarm of kid-size buzzing bees setting up, comparing projects, talking science. In spot 338B, Watson arranges the finishing touch, the final piece of his Universal-Strength Peanut Butter Bubble Gum, on a very attractive pyramid display. In spot 403A, Frank Einstein adjusts his Antimatter Motor Fly Bike diagram.

And that's when the lights suddenly go out. A surprised hush quiets the roaring buzz. A squeal of feedback echoes around the hall. A single spotlight pops on a raised stage, illuminating two men in bow-tied tuxedoes. A voice booms, "LADY AND GENTLEMAN SCIENTISTS. WELCOME TO THE FIFTIETH ANNUAL GRABCO SCIENCE PRIZE. I AM ADAMS JOHNSON, PRESIDENT OF GRABCO, AND WE HAVE A SURPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT. PROBABLY THE BIGGEST SURPRISE WE HAVE EVER HAD IN OUR FIFTY YEARS OF AWARDING THE GRABCO SCIENCE PRIZE. MR. MAYOR?"