The Eyes Of Kid Midas

12 DON'T TOUCH THAT DIAL

Rumor was that Hal Hornbeck lost it completely that same day, during fourth period. Not that Hal had ever been wrapped too tightly to begin with, but for some reason, he walked into his Spanish class and went totally loco. Everyone who saw it had their own version of the story, but everyone did agree on this basic sequence of events: Hal had walked into class, looking tired and confused. Then, for no apparent reason, he launched into a screaming fit and had to be dragged out.

Rumor also had it that he refused to say anything that made sense to Dr. Cutler, the guidance counselor. He just kept asking for Bertram, whoever that was, perhaps an imaginary playmate.

Kevin and Josh, who did not have Spanish class with Hal, heard all of this in passing, but didn't think much of it. They had enough concerns of their own.

Kevin and Josh also avoided Nicole Patterson to the best of their ability, which might have been a mistake, because Nicole, who was in Hal's Spanish class, had the most accurate description of what really happened. Nicole claimed that Hal walked into the room, saw her, and began screaming at the top of his lungs. Everyone thought it was pretty funny that a clod like Hal could be frightened by someone as petite as Nicole.

During lunch, there was further talk about how Hal had gotten a zero on his first-period math quiz, but Kevin was too busy looking for his sister to care much about the current status of Hal Hornbeck's math skills. Kevin was hoping Teri had come up with some advice as to what to do about the glasses.

Teri did, indeed, have some advice.

"Take the glasses, and smash them with a sledgehammer," she said. "I'll do it for you if you want." That was easy for her to say—they weren't hers. She wasn't the one who needed them. She wasn't the one who got sick when the glasses weren't around.

"They can't be destroyed," said Kevin.

"How do you know? Have you tried?"

"What if we try to destroy them and they destroy us instead, in defense?"

"You're talking like the thing is alive—it's just a pair of glasses."

Kevin didn't answer her, and his silence made Teri shudder. "Then we'll bury them," said Teri, "where no one will ever find them. You, me, and Josh together—okay?"

Kevin squirmed his way out of answering her. If she had made this suggestion the night before, when he was weak and vulnerable, he would have gone out with her in the middle of the night in his pajamas, and buried them halfway to China. But that was then. Now Kevin had a better idea, one that he was certain would work just fine, although he wasn't about to tell anyone. He would keep wearing the glasses, but learn to shut up.

Kevin was reminded of a diabetic kid he knew. The kid went to class, played sports, had fun—was normal in every way. The only thing was, he had to have a shot of insulin every day, for the rest of his life.

That's how it would be with Kevin and the glasses.

What's the big deal? Kevin told himself. He had worn glasses every day for as long as he could remember. So now the rest of him needed glasses as much as his eyes did—what was the difference, really? He could grow used to keeping the glasses on and keeping his mouth shut, the way the diabetic boy got used to his insulin shots.

Kevin was thinking about this when suddenly his crystal-clear world became blurry once more.

Kevin didn't see the face of the kid who stole his glasses—but by the shape lumbering down the hall, he could tell who it had to be.

Hal Hornbeck.

Hal didn't taunt Kevin—he didn't play keep-away, or bullfight, or rodeo. He simply took the glasses and just kept on running until he burst out the side door of Ridgeline Middle School and disappeared.

Kevin scarfed down a slice of pizza, practically inhaling it.

"I'm so dumb!" said Kevin. There was no argument from Josh and Teri, who were sitting across from him at the pizza parlor. "I should have known," said Kevin. The fact was, Josh should have known, too. There were, after all, four of them there when Kevin found the glasses, and now that Bertram was out of the picture, it left three—three boys on the outside, looking in on a world going crazy. No wonder Hal had screamed when he saw Nicole. They should have known!

It may have taken Hal most of the day to figure out what was going on, but when he did, he didn't waste any time. Kevin, Josh, and Teri had immediately taken to the streets to find Hal, but he was in none of the usual places. He had simply vanished.

"More pizza!" said Kevin.

"You've already eaten an entire pie," complained Teri. "If you don't stop, you're going to hurl."

"More pizza!" demanded Kevin. He was hungry, and the more he ate, the hungrier he got. Even though his stomach was stuffed and he felt like barfing, he was still hungry.

"Maybe it's better this way," offered Josh.

"Are you kidding me?" said Teri. "Do you really want Hal Hornbeck using those glasses? If you thought Kevin was a screwup, can you imagine what things would be like with that pus-head running the show?"

Josh sank in his seat and gnawed on a crust.

Kevin inhaled the last slice on the table, then looked up at Teri and Josh with tired, sunken eyes. "I think I'm going to be sick," said Kevin.

"I'm not surprised," said Josh.

"No," said Kevin, "that's not what I mean...."

Both Teri and Josh were looking at him now, and they were beginning to understand what he meant. The glasses had been gone for just a couple of hours, and already Kevin was looking bad. His eyes were dark, and his skin was pale and pasty. Soon he would start shivering. What came after the shivering? He didn't know, because Kevin had never let it get beyond that—he had always put the glasses back on. But now he couldn't. How bad would the sickness get? How bad could it get before . . .

Kevin put down his crust. "Pizza's not going to help, is it?"

They all knew what had to be done.

"Where would you go," asked Teri, "if you were Hal Hornbeck and had a pair of magic glasses?"

When the question was asked in that way, the answer came quickly and clearly, bringing on a powerful dose of hope.

Hal had done what most kids in town would do under the circumstances. He had gone to the dentist.

Public-access cable took in the video dregs of the universe. Would-be talk-show hosts and local crackpot prophets teetering on the edge of lunacy found a happy home on Channel 92. There were long hours of town council meetings, high school sports recorded on home camcorders, and really bad dance recitals. Basically anyone who could afford ten dollars a minute could have his or her own local television show.

Only one local show was watched week after week. Frankie Philpot's World of Phreakie Phenomena.

The story, as everyone knew, went like this. Frankie, a mild-mannered dentist, had discovered some years ago a set of gold-filled molars that not only picked up a local radio station, but also (when the patient's arms were held up in just the right position) could tune in voices from the great beyond.

From that moment on, Frankie had dedicated all of his nondental time to exploring the supernatural, and he produced his findings at six o'clock every Thursday night.

His dental practice doubled, of course, since every kid in town wanted a paranormal dentist who might be able to tighten his or her braces just enough to pull in radio signals from dead people—or even better—famous dead people.

Kids watched his show every week, hoping beyond hope that something mystical would actually happen, but nothing ever did.

This week's show, however, promised to be very interesting.

Kevin, Teri, and Josh arrived at the small office building where Franklin I. Philpot, D.D.S., had his offices. The waiting room was empty when they arrived.

"Dr. Philpot has canceled all his afternoon appointments," the receptionist explained through her little glass window. She handed Kevin a small pink card. "This is a voucher for a free teeth cleaning," she told him. "We're sorry for the inconvenience."

"We don't have an appointment," said Kevin. "We just need to talk to him."

"It's an emergency," added Josh.

"There are other dentists," suggested the receptionist, beginning to write them a referral.

"But it's about Elvis!" Teri blurted out.

The receptionist perked up and put down her pen.

"What about Elvis?"

Kevin and Josh turned to Teri. "Yeah, what about Elvis?"

Teri didn't miss a beat. "My retainer," she said. "Of course I can't be sure, but I've been hearing Elvis singing through my retainer." The receptionist didn't quite buy it.

Teri pulled the retainer out of her mouth and held it in the receptionist's face. "You wanna check?"

She grimaced and backed away. "Maybe you'd better show Dr. Philpot." She disappeared into the inner offices, and they snuck in right behind her.

It looked like any normal dental office—several examining rooms with dental couches, X-ray machines, posters about gum disease. The only difference was an office in the back that had been converted into a low-budget television studio.

Hal Hornbeck sat alone in the studio with his feet up, like an emperor, eating chocolates out of a golden bowl.

There was evidence everywhere of Hal's abuse of the glasses—food that must have appeared right before Frankie Philpot's eyes now littered the ground. Philpot was not in sight; he was probably on the phone with someone bigger and more important than himself. This thing was about to blow sky-high, if Kevin didn't do some heavy damage control . . . but he couldn't do that until he got the glasses away from Hal.

"Well, if it isn't the goon patrol," said Hal, not even bothering to stand up. "I knew you'd get here sooner or later."

"I want my glasses now!" said Kevin.

"Extremely Full Nelson!" said Hal, and instantly Kevin felt his neck pressed forward and his feet lifted from the ground, although no one was there. Kevin couldn't talk—could barely breathe. How dare someone use his own glasses against him!

"It's too late," said Hal. "Philpot's already putting me on this week's show."

"You moron! You can't show the glasses on TV," insisted Teri. "Then everybody will want to take them away!"

Hal gave her an ear-to-ear smirk. "Not if they don't know it's the glasses. Right now Philpot thinks I'm the one with the power, and you'd better not tell him different!"

Just then, Frankie Philpot, dentist of the supernatural, burst into the room, fumbling with his video camera. His eyes and hair were wild, as if he had just won the lottery. In his excitement it took him a few moments to notice there were new people in the room.

"Are these your friends?" Frankie asked Hal. "Are they . . . like you?"

"No," answered Hal, "they're mere humans."

"Don't listen to him," began Josh. "He's—"

"Josh," said Hal, "you shouldn't talk with a frog in your throat."

Josh suddenly began to gag and cough. Teri opened her mouth to speak, but when Hal turned to look at her, she shut it again, for fear of what he might do.

Frankie Philpot didn't care about the kids in the corner. He anxiously raised the video camera, ready to record the magic of Hal Hornbeck.

"I've had this power for as long as I can remember," Hal began, once the camera was rolling. "I was born with it...."

Josh kept trying to clear his throat but couldn't stop gagging. Teri, who was trying desperately to free Kevin from the invisible stranglehold, turned to Josh and gave him the Heimlich maneuver.

"Go on," said Frankie, "tell me everything!" This must have been the highlight of Frankie Philpot's life—documented evidence of a supernatural being. "Where are your people from?" he asked.

"Originally Pittsburgh," answered Hal.

Teri gave a tug on Josh's gut, and Josh coughed out a good-sized bullfrog, which shot across the room like a bullet, right into Hal's face, knocking the glasses to the floor.

"Great aim, Josh!" said Teri.

Kevin flexed his arms and neck, spun around, and finally broke out of the Nelson. He dove to the ground on top of the glasses, like a football player recovering a fumble.

Frankie Philpot did not waver; he had a job to do. "Forget about them," he told Hal, never moving the videocam from his face. "Tell me more about yourself."

Kevin and Josh raced out, and Hal was about to follow, when Teri, thinking quickly, took hold of a dental X-ray machine and pulled on the long mechanical arm that connected it to the wall. The thing looked like a huge blue insect head. She aimed it at Hal's chest.

"Make one more move and I'll fry you!" said Teri.

Hal froze in his steps.

At last Frankie lowered his videocam. "Is something wrong?"

Josh and Teri were on his heels, while, much farther behind, Hal was pursued by Philpot, who refused to let any phenomenon go undocumented. "Wait!" he cried to Hal. "I just have a few more questions."

Kevin turned down a dead-end hallway.

Finally he put on his glasses, and the yellow lettering on the steel doorway ahead of him came into clear focus. It said DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE.

"Kevin, this way!" said Teri as she and Josh turned toward the elevator, at the other end of the hall.

The glasses were already filling Kevin with warmth, taking away his shivers and his headache—but not quickly enough. The electricity was humming behind those doors. Kevin could hear it, and he began to wonder. He pushed the glasses farther up on his face.

All that electricity . . . and only a few feet away . . .

He took a step closer to the steel door of the electrical room, and then another. Josh grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't, Kevin," said Josh, almost reading his mind. "You got the glasses, that's enough.... You don't have to do this."

Kevin shook off Josh's arm. "I want to do it." Kevin reached out, pulled open the door, and looked deep into the rat's nest of high-voltage copper coils.

A heavy wave of electricity shot from the transformer and began to course across the surface of the glasses with the random pattern of a tornado funnel. Josh fell to the ground and grabbed firmly onto a steel doorstop, as if he feared being dragged away.

Up above, the lights began to flicker and dim, as if someone in the next room was getting the electric chair.

Teri and Josh had never seen Kevin charge the glasses. It was an awful, private thing they felt they had no business watching, but they couldn't turn their eyes away.

"He'll fry himself!" said Teri. "We have to do something!"

Frankie Philpot and Hal had just turned the corner, and they stopped dead in their tracks when they saw where Kevin had gone.

For Kevin it was like coming to the surface of a deep, cold ocean and taking his first breath. He felt he could breathe in forever and never exhale. It felt better than anything the glasses had ever done for him.

And then something went wrong.

Something cracked.

It sounded like a million chandeliers falling to the ground at once, and it felt like an explosion inside Kevin's brain. He was blown back and went sliding across the floor. The current between Kevin and the transformer died, and the lights returned to their normal brightness.

Teri and Josh helped Kevin up and looked into his rolling eyes.

"Kevin, are you okay?" asked Teri.

"I don't know, I..."

"The glasses—they're cracked!" said Josh.

It was true. The glasses had overloaded, and a crack in the left lens was shooting tiny sparks.

"Let's get out of here!"

Josh and Teri practically carried Kevin to the elevator. Hal and Frankie were close behind and made it into the elevator just as the doors closed. Frankie raised his camera.

"I have to get this all on tape!" said Frankie. "Somebody, please tell me what's going on!"

"You stink, Midas, you know that!" Hal grabbed hold of the glasses and tried to pull them off Kevin's face, but they didn't come.

"Somebody, please say something," begged Frankie. "Anything!"

"Siberia," said Kevin, and he disappeared along with Teri and Josh.

Frankie lowered his camera. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he said, "but did I just witness a transcontinental teleportation?"

"Siberia?" said Hal. "Why would he want to go to Siberia?" Then the elevator bell rang, and the doors opened to the lobby.

Only it wasn't the lobby.

The elevator had opened up to an endless plain of snow, beneath a troubled sky. Before them stood a man with a heavy parka, a funny hat, and a leathery face that peered in at them. Even the yak standing beside him seemed confused.

"Uh-oh," said Hal.

Kevin, Josh, and Teri picked themselves up off the bottom of an empty elevator shaft. The only light came from the cracked glasses, which still sparked like a bad short circuit. "Take us home, Kevin," said Teri.

He reached up to push the glasses farther up the bridge of his nose but realized he didn't need to—they clamped onto his head now, in a perfect fit. Kevin pictured his house, then opened his mouth to wish them home—but they were standing in his living room before he said a single word. He didn't think much of it. Until about a minute later.