Bruce Coville - 6th Grade Alien 09 - There's An Alien In My Backpack.pdf - Bruce Coville - widez2

THERE'S AN ALIEN

IN MY BACKPACK

Illustrated by Tony Sansevero

MlNSTREL

BOOK

Published by POCKET BOOKS

New YorkLondonTorontoSydney Singapore

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CHAPTER

[TIM]

Missing Linnsy

"Hey, monster maker," said Jordan Lynch as he sauntered into our classroom. "Why don't you go back

to space where you belong?"

I sighed and slid down in my chair, trying to disappear.Jordan has always had a large collection of names

he likes to call me—things like "boogerbreath," "dootbrain," and "buttface." But after Pleskit and I

returned from our adventures on Billa Kindikan, Jordan decided his new nickname

for me was going to be "monster maker/' which hurt worse than all the others put

together.

He calls me that because he blames me forthe fact that our former classmate, Linnsy Vanderhof, is now

a veccir —that is, she is locked in a symbiotic union with a crablike creature named

Bur, who lives on her head. Linnsy vec Bur (the proper name for the combined

being) decided not to return to Earth. The two of them—or maybe I should say "the

one of them" since they claim to be a single unit—are off somewhere exploring the

galaxy, or doing business deals, or who knows what.

Anyway, it's hard enough to return to everyday life when you've just saved the entire civilized galaxy

from collapse into chaos. If you happen to have lost one of your classmates in the process, it's infinitely

worse—especially if she was one of the more popular kids in the class.

It doesn't help the churning that starts in my guts wheneverJordan calls me "monster maker" that

sometimes I do blame myself for what happened to Linnsy. I know this is stupid. It was

Maktel who got us trapped in Ellico vec Bur's spaceship. And it was Linnsy's own

choice not to come back. Well, Linnsy vec Bur's choice.

Half of meis worried sick about her. The other half is crazy jealous because she's doing what I had

always dreamed of—exploring the galaxy.

I think about that at night, when I am trying to get to sleep, which hasn't been so easy lately. It's one

thing to dream about leaving home for the stars and another to actually do it. Until Linnsy made her

choice I had never really thought about how my going would affect my mother. Now I have a better idea,

partly because I go to talk to Linnsy's mom and dad a couple of times a week.

The Vanderhofs live in the apartment directly above ours. Fortunately, they don't seem to blame

me for what happened—at least, not entirely. It helps that the Interplanetary Trading

Federation brought them to Trader's Court, so they had had a chance to see Linnsy

before she took off with Bur.

Still, it's hard for them.

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I think that's why Mrs. Vanderhof keeps inviting me up for cookies and milk.

"We all have to let go of our children sooner or later," she'll say, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "I just

wasn't r-r-r-ready t-t-to . . . oh, Mr. Timothy!"

That's as far as she ever gets before she breaks down crying.

I'll confess that sometimes I cry, too. I miss Linnsy more than I could have imagined. Even though she

had dropped me as a best friend when she sprinted ahead of me in the social decathlon (which hadn't

been hard to do, since I pretty much tripped over the starting line), we had known each other for years.

Yeah, she made fun of me sometimes. But I also knew I could go to her for help and advice on just

about anything.

I even miss the "little punchie-wunchies" I used to get from her when she thought I had said or done

something particularly dorky. Actually, that was another reason I wished she were still around: I wanted

to ask her if I was getting less dorky. I know that would count as a miracle of some sort, but I've noticed

this odd thing happening since we got back: some of the girls—particularly Rafaella Cruz and Misty

Longacres—have started to act as if they actually think I'm a human being or something.

Rafaella has even smiled at me a couple of times.

It's hard to get used to.

As if gettinghassled byJordan and feeling lousy about Linnsy wasn't enough, I was also having a problem

with Ms. Weintraub. She actually expected Pleskit and me to make up all the classwork we had missed

while we were off saving the galaxy!

"Sheesh," I complained. "You'd think a guy could get extra credit in social studies for saving galactic

civilization from total collapse."

"I give you all the credit in the world, Tim," said Ms. Weintraub. "I still want you to know why the Civil

War took place."

"Good luck," snortedJordan . "He doesn't even know who's buried in Grant's Tomb."

This earned him a laugh from Brad Kent, who I think must have been a dog in a previous life, since that's

the only way I can explain his total devotion toJordan . I always expect him to lickJordan 's face and ask

for a biscuit after he barks out one of those pathetic suck-up laughs.

Pleskit had missed as much work as I had, of course. The difference is that he has a truly mighty brain,

so he was able to make it up more quickly.Which meant I was the one who ended up staying after school

to get extra help.

One Friday afternoon I left school after one of these sessions. It was a beautiful spring day, which was

nice, except it was also sort of weird, because it had been winter when we left for Billa Kindikan. I was

riding my bike, and when I got to the bridge, I stopped to stare at the embassy for a while. Basically it's a

huge flying saucer dangling from the tip of a two-hundred-foot-high hook that thrusts up from the big hill

inThorncraftPark . Even though it's been there since last fall, I still sometimes think I'm dreaming when I

see it—especially since I'm the only kid on Earth who gets to visit it on a regular basis, on account of

Pleskit being my best friend.

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A light rain started, and I decided I had better get going. But just seconds after I crossed the bridge, a

kid I had never seen before jumped out from behind a tree.

I screeched to a halt, barely avoiding crashing into him.

Eyes wild, face desperate, he gasped, "I'm in terrible trouble, Tim! You have to help me!"

CHAPTER

[PLESKIT]

The Perils of Wealth

"Okay, Pleskit," said Robert McNally, the Earthling hired to be my bodyguard. "Help me get this

straight: if this urpelli thing works out, your Fatherly One actually has a chance to

become the richest guy in the galaxy?"

McNally and I were in the embassy kitchenfor an after-school snack. We were discussing

what it meant that a previously unknown Grand Urpelli had been discovered so close

to Earth that it was part of the Fatherly One's trading franchise. I wanted to answer

my bodyguard's question, but I had just taken a sip of fizzing feezlebort, and my

tongue was not yet ready to resume working. So I couldn't explain, again, that an

urpelli is a sort of hole through time and space.

A Grand Urpelli —and the one located near Earth is only the second we know of in the

entire galaxy—connects all the rest of them. This makes it sort of a huge central

station for faster-than-light travel.

Barvgis, the Fatherly One's round and slimy personal assistant, took up the conversation for me.

Plucking an inch-long squirmer from the bowl in front of him, he held it up and said, "Pretend this

squirmer represents all the money possessed by the Earthling known as Bill Gates."

McNally nodded. "Okay. I'm pretending."

"Good," said Barvgis. Ignoring the squirmer's tiny screams and frantically wriggling legs, he tossed it into

his mouth. He chewed once, swallowed,then burped in satisfaction. Patting his stomach proudly, he said,

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Bruce Coville - 6th Grade Alien 09 - There's An Alien In My Backpack.pdf

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