You Can't Have My Planet Page 5

  The prosecutor glared at me, as if it was all my fault.

  Jerry jumped out of his seat and yelled, “Get rid of the bums.”

  “Order in the court,” repeated the judge.

  The many of eyes of mother Bridgeling and her baby were all bearing down on me.

  The prosecutor sat down, twirling his antennae, proud of himself.

  Tula rose calmly out of her seat and approached the bench. “Your Honor, I wish I could say that the disastrous oil spill was the only mistake the humans have made. But it isn’t. They have committed other blunders. In doing so, they have violated more than one thousand different clauses in the lease. However, I would like to direct your attention to one clause in particular, number fifty-one.” Tula pulled out the ancient scroll. “It reads like this: ‘Before they can be evicted, the tenants will be allowed to undergo one final test to prove that they’re capable of changing their ways.’”

  “That clause sucks,” Jerry shouted.

  The judge signaled to the ogre bailiff, who grabbed Jerry by his upside-down dreadlocks and hauled him out of the courtroom.

  “Get your hands off me,” Jerry insisted.

  Tula’s eyes remained fixed on the judge. “Your Honor, the Elders were the ones who drew up this lease. It was they who inserted this clause. We can’t dispute the wisdom of the Elders. They understood something about human evolution that we can’t grasp. Once they lived in caves.”

  Jerry came barging back into the courtroom and yelled, “Now they live in Detroit. You call that progress?”

  The judge ignored the commotion and gazed at me with his shimmering eyes. “As much as I may be appalled by the behavior of your species I cannot go against the wisdom of the Elders. You will be allowed to undergo one final test to see if you’re capable of improving.”

  “They don’t deserve it,” bellowed King Zoodle.

  “This is an outrage,” insisted Jerry.

  Princess Petulance stood up and screamed, “You can’t do this. It is my destiny to rule that planet. And besides, I already picked out wallpaper for the Central Park Mall.”

  The judge didn’t hear any of it. He focused only on me, Giles. “As I was saying, young man, you and your species will be allowed to undergo one final test.”

  A rhyme popped into my head, right there in the Halls of Universal Justice.

  My quest

  is a test.

  The test

  is my quest.

  That’s how it is with poetry. It just pops into your head.

  The judge continued. “Your test shall be…”

  We all waited breathlessly.

  “You must clean up an island,” said the judge.

  An island, I thought to myself. Cool. I get to hang out on a tropical island for a couple of weeks. Cleaning it will be no problem. Islands aren’t that big. What’s there to do except pick up a few coconuts? I can surf all day, munch on mangoes and papaya. Maybe I’ll even get a pet monkey or a parrot to keep me company. Sounds good to me.

  “You Honor,” Tula said, “does the island have a name?”

  “Yes,” said the judge. “Manhattan.”

  I almost fell out of my chair. “Manhattan? Did you say Manhattan? You want me to clean Manhattan?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “THAT IS CORRECT,” said the judge.

  “How can I clean Manhattan? I can’t even clean my room.”

  “Your Honor,” Tula said, “I understand that you want to give the humans a real challenge. But don’t you think this is going overboard?”

  “Not at all,” replied the judge.

  Tula took a deep breath. She placed her hand reassuringly on my arm and looked up at the crystal being. “Your Honor, how much time will my client be given to accomplish this task?”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  This time I did fall out of my chair. “Twenty-four hours? You want me to clean Manhattan in twenty-four hours?”

  “The test will begin on Saturday night at the stroke of midnight,” explained the judge. “It will end on the stroke of midnight on Sunday. It is currently Tuesday evening on Earth. That gives you four days to prepare for the challenge.”

  “It’ll take a miracle to clean Manhattan in one day,” I said.

  The judge smiled. “Giles, you’re a human child who hates going to the mall. That’s a miracle itself.”

  “What about the other boroughs, Your Honor?” asked Tula. “Brooklyn? The Bronx?”

  “Just the island of Manhattan,” he explained. “That will be sufficient.”

  “The Hudson River?” asked Tula.

  “No. That couldn’t possibly be done in twenty-four hours. But hopefully the momentum of this challenge will inspire New Yorkers to decontaminate the surrounding waters.”

  “Your Honor, can you please give us a more precise definition of cleaning up Manhattan?” asked Tula.

  If you wanted a precise definition of going insane, all you had to do was take one look at me.

  “The streets must be made immaculate,” said the judge. “Eliminate all graffiti from the buildings and subways. Dramatically improve the air quality. Restore the island to its original splendor, the way it looked when the native Americans inhabited it.”

  “You mean get rid of all the skyscrapers?” I asked.

  “No. But make it a place where all life-forms can thrive. Prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that your species is capable of healing the planet.” Something of a sly smile passed across his crystal face. “And along the way, add five million more leaves.”

  “In one day?” I yelled.

  The judge nodded.

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not at all,” said the judge.

  “Your Honor, if I planted fifty thousand trees they wouldn’t sprout leaves overnight. It’ll take years.”

  “You have a clever lawyer,” he said. “You’ll figure something out.”

  Luckily I had a great idea. I leaned over and whispered to Tula, “We can steal all the trees from New Jersey.”

  “Nobody’s stealing anything, Giles,” she said.

  “It’s hopeless, kiddo,” Jerry cackled, getting chased around the courtroom by the ogre bailiff. “Start packing for Desoleen.”

  “Your Honor,” Tula said, casting a suspicious glance at Jerry and the princess, “there are many beings throughout the galaxy who would love to see the humans fail. What’s to stop them from dumping trash in Manhattan after my client has cleaned it all up?”

  “Good question,” replied the judge. “I have a placed a force field over the island that will make interplanetary littering impossible. You only need to worry about the bottles and cans and newspapers the humans have tossed onto the streets.”

  My mom and dad would figure something out. They were brilliant. And rich. “Hey, Judge,” I said, “can I get my parents to help me?”

  “No,” said the judge. “If you tell your mother or father or any other adult, your species will immediately be evicted. The adults had their chance to save the planet and they failed. The fate of your species rests on your young shoulders.”

  “Can my client tell other children, Your Honor?” Tula inquired.

  “He must do it on his own.”

  Tula threw her blue hands in the air. “Your Honor, this is extremely unfair.”

  I think the judge got mad because he turned dark red, like a ruby.

  “I ask you to please have mercy,” Tula said softly.

  The judge returned to his normal clear color. “All right. All right. He can tell three other children.”

  “What happens if I tell more than three?” I asked.

  “Then you automatically fail the test.” Light danced inside him. “When the twenty-four hours has elapsed, I will personally walk the streets of Manhattan to determine if you have passed the test.”

  I remembered something extremely important. I was too embarrassed to say it in front of everyone, so I got up and headed toward the judge.
Mama Bridgeling was feeding something to the baby. I didn’t want to bother them, so I leaped over the stream. Luckily, I didn’t fall in. I whispered in the judge’s ear. “Your Honor, I’ve got a big problem. I’m supposed to be taking care of my grandmother. I gave Grandpa my word of honor.”

  “I am aware of that responsibility, Giles,” the judge whispered back.

  “You are?”

  The judge nodded.

  When Grandpa was sick we took him to the Grandpa Repair Store. That’s what we called the hospital. Nikki came up with that word. They specialize in fixing grandpas. She’d tell the limo driver, “Take us to the Grandpa Repair Store please.”

  The Grandpa Repair Store kept Grandpa alive for three months. Then he got real bad. One day I was alone with him in his hospital room. He was hooked up to half a dozen machines.

  “Giles,” he said, “I want you to promise me something.”

  “Sure, Grandpa,” I said.

  “I want you to promise me you’ll take care of Grandma when I’m gone. I’m very concerned about her. I don’t think she’s going to handle this very well. You need to take care of her while she’s taking care of you. Will you do that for me, Giles?”

  “Yes, Grandpa.”

  I didn’t feel like bawling my head off in the middle of the Halls of Universal Justice but I was pretty darn close. I bit my upper lip and stared at the judge. “Your Honor, I don’t see how I can take care of Grandma and clean Manhattan at the same time.”

  “Giles,” whispered the judge, “think of the Earth as your other grandmother. She’s sick. She’s very ill. She needs to be healed.”

  I leaped back over the stream, went to my seat, and sat down.

  “Court is adjourned,” declared the judge.

  “All rise,” roared the bailiff.

  We all rose to the ceiling. The crystal being walked across the Bridgeling and left the room.

  As soon as Tula lowered us back down, Princess Petulance came prancing in our direction. “Good luck, Giles.”

  Tula rolled her eyes. “Like you really mean it.”

  “How do you two know each other?” I asked.

  “Tula and I went to boarding school together,” said the princess.

  “Until you got kicked out for trying to chop off the math teacher’s head,” Tula said.

  “I don’t know what went wrong,” said the princess. “I’ll tell you. They don’t make guillotines like they used to.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Don’t freak out, Giles. I was just trying to scare him so he’d give me an A in trigonometry.”

  “What about the time you bit off that waiter’s nose at the diner?” Tula said.

  “He served me cold chili fries.”

  “So you bit off his nose?” I said.

  “I hate cold chili fries.” She giggled. “What’s the big deal? He was a Martian elf. Their noses grow back in a couple of days. I never would’ve done it otherwise.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t have,” Tula said. My lawyer burst out laughing. “Hey, Princess, tell Giles about the time you tried to walk across a Bridgeling.”

  “What happened, Princess?” I asked.

  A horrified look crept onto her royal face.

  “She got turned into a dung beetle,” Tula said. “She spent an entire semester crawling around inside her locker.”

  The princess was seething. Her pirate whipped out a miniature cannon, aimed it at Tula and was about to light the fuse.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tula calmly told the tattoo, gripping the handle on her briefcase.

  The pirate put out the match and wheeled his cannon dejectedly up the collarbone of Princess Petulance.

  “It’s so unfortunate what happened to the Bridgelings,” the princess said with the fakest sympathy you ever heard. “There used to be thousands of them.”

  The two girls stood toe to toe like gorgeous gladiators.

  Tula turned around, and strode through the door into the judge’s office, waving to the baby Bridgeling.

  The princess glared at her. “She’s such a goodie-goodie. Just like Bobby.”

  How did she know Bobby?

  “I hate goodie-goodies. Don’t you, Giles? They think they’re better than everyone. They’re always rubbing it in your face.” She smiled at me. “You’re not a goodie-goodie. Are you, Giles?”

  Her pirate tattoo stood up on her shoulder and saluted me.

  “What’s he saluting me for?” I asked. “I’m not on your team.”

  “Not yet you aren’t,” she said, sauntering away.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I WAS ALLOWED to tell three kids about the quest. The first one to get the big news was Nikki. I told her as soon as my lawyer got me back to New York City.

  I poked my head out of my bedroom, made sure Grandma wasn’t around, and led Tula down the hallway into my sister’s room.

  “Hey, Nikki,” I said, “check out the blue girl.”

  Nikki took one look at Tula and dropped her violin. Tula caught it deftly before it hit the floor. She handed it back to Nikki. My little sister’s hands trembled so badly she couldn’t hold it, so Tula laid it gently in its case and smiled at the petrified six-year-old. “Aren’t you the famous violinist?”

  “I’m not famous,” Nikki mumbled.

  “She’s an author too,” I added. “She’s writing a book called How to Eat a Meatball.”

  “I’ve always wanted to know how to eat a meatball,” Tula said. “We don’t have pasta on my planet.”

  “It’s about ice cream,” Nikki said.

  “A book about ice cream called How to Eat a Meatball,” Tula said. “It sounds splendid.”

  Nikki turned to me. “Giles, there’s a blue girl in my room, talking about How to Eat a Meatball.”

  “I know, Nikki. Her name is Tula. She’s our lawyer. She’s here to help us.”

  “Help us do what?”

  I told Nikki the whole story. Surprisingly it all made perfect sense to her, probably because she was so young. The younger you are the easier it is to understand the important things in life. The only thing Nikki couldn’t believe was that I was keeping this a secret from Bobby.

  “Giles, Bobby’s the only kid I know who could figure out how to clean Manhattan in one day.”

  “Thanks, Nikki. It’s nice to know you have faith in me.”

  “I’m sorry, Giles. It’s just that…”

  “I know. Bobby is smarter than me.”

  “He’s smarter than me too, Giles. He’s the smartest kid on the planet.”

  “Well, I’ve got other people I’d rather tell,” I said. “Like Toshi and Navida.”

  Nikki threw herself into Tula’s arms. “Tula, don’t you think he should tell Bobby?”

  “Absolutely,” Tula said, stroking Nikki’s hair, giving me a nasty look.

  Snubbing my brother may not have been the most rational thing in the world. But would you be rational if you’d just hung out with Pollendoozees? I knew one thing for sure. If Bobby found out he’d try to take control. This was my quest. For once in my life I was going to be the star of this family.

  We heard footsteps in the hallway. Tula popped open her briefcase and dived inside. She leaped into her briefcase! The briefcase slammed shut just as Bobby threw open Nikki’s bedroom door.

  I stepped in front of the briefcase, hiding it from Bobby’s view.

  He was carrying a fancy leather-bound notebook. He showed us the cover.

  He waved the notebook in my face, fanning me with a gust of wind that reeked of arrogance, the worst form of big brother pollution.

  “I’m about to begin the final chapter of my literary masterpiece,” he said. “This is like Dickens sitting down to write A Tale of Two Cities. Interrupt me and I’ll kill you.”

  He slammed the door on his way out.

  “Nikki, if Bobby is this cocky now just imagine what he’d be like if he saved the planet,” I said.

  Nikki pondered it for a moment. “Maybe we ca
n pull this off without him.”

  “Of course we can. We’ve got the best lawyer ever. Did you see what she just did?”

  The briefcase opened by itself. Our lawyer climbed out. Before we could ask her how she did it, Tula dived back into the briefcase. The bedroom door flew open. This time it was Grandma. I nudged the briefcase underneath the bed with my foot.

  “Hi, Grandma,” I said.

  Grandma eyed us suspiciously. “What are you two up to?”

  “Nothing, Grandma,” Nikki said.

  Grandma sniffed the air. “I smell mischief.”

  “What does mischief smell like, Grandma?” I asked.

  “Like burnt pot roast.”

  “We weren’t cooking any pot roast, Grandma,” I assured her.

  “I don’t even like pot roast,” Nikki said.

  She kept sniffing. “I smell mischief. You two weren’t planning on interrupting your brother in the middle of his writing, were you?”

  “Yes, we were,” I said. “You caught us, Grandma. We were just getting ready to go bother him.”

  My sister and I exchanged a sly glance.

  “You leave your brother alone.”

  “We can’t pull anything with you around, Grandma,” I said.

  “Don’t forget it.”

  As soon as she was gone, I pulled out the briefcase and popped it open. “Tula?”

  “Come on in,” she said.

  I stuck my head inside the briefcase. I felt as if I was peering into a magic cave. A cozy room revealed itself, roughly the size of my bedroom. It was Tula’s office. If I had tried to jump down into it I would’ve broken my neck. The office walls were lined with bookshelves. A wooden ladder like the kind you see in libraries leaned against the far wall. It came swinging toward me. I climbed down it. Nikki followed.

  “OK,” Tula said. “If you’re not going to tell Bobby then we need to move forward without him. Give me your cell phones.”