The Top Secret Toys Page 3

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  “Open the door, Anna. NOW!”

  “Go away!”

  “NOW, ANNA!”

  Anna flung the door open and pushed her way past Vincent.

  “There! You can have it!” Anna said as she ran into her room and tried to slam the door. Vincent stuck his foot in the doorway and shoved a fistful of Tesla sketches through the opening.

  “Explain this!” Vincent demanded.

  Anna tried to grab the sketches. “Hey, those are mine.”

  “Where did you get these?” Vincent pushed the door open.

  “Get out!” Anna cried.

  Vincent couldn’t believe his eyes. Anna’s walls were covered with the Tesla sketches. Highly detailed, scientific pencil sketches covered with daisies, kitties, and pink bunnies.

  Above Anna’s bed was a sketch of a Tesla turbine. The rotor was barely visible behind the spotted puppy Anna had painted over it. And Tesla’s direct beam particle charger was hanging over Anna’s desk with a picture of two little guinea pigs jumping rope pasted on top of it.

  Suddenly, it all made sense to Vincent.

  “Where is it?” Vincent asked as he started pulling the sketches off the wall.

  “Where’s what?”

  “The key. Where’s the key?”

  Stella heard the commotion and walked into the room. “What’s all of this?”

  “There is no mysterious invention making the crate lighter. It’s Anna. Somehow she’s going into the crate and taking these.” Vincent showed Stella one of the Tesla sketches. “She must have found a key.”

  “Give it back, Anna,” Stella said.

  “It’s mine! I found it stuck to—”

  “Give it back NOW!” Stella demanded.

  Anna reached in her pocket, pulled out a black metal key, and handed it to Stella.

  “What’s under the towel?” the flight attendant asked.

  “My pet parrot, Nikola. I covered his cage so he wouldn’t talk,” Vincent replied.

  “Wow, he talks?”

  “Oh, yeah. He talks a lot.”

  The flight attendant handed Vincent a bag of peanuts.

  “Those are nice drawings.” She motioned to Anna’s art stacked on the tray in front of him. “Cute bunnies.”

  “Oh, they’re not mine. My obnoxious little sister did those.”

  “I see,” she said as she handed Vincent a Coke. “I had one of those too—obnoxious little sisters, that is.” The flight attendant smiled. “My name is Kisha. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” said Vincent.

  Vincent pulled the letter from his pocket and read it for the hundredth time that day.

  Dearest Vincent,

  Congratulations again on winning this year’s Whizzer Toys contest!

  It is with great anticipation and joy that I await your arrival. I truly believe that greater forces have conspired to bring you into my life at this most critical time, for a talent and mind such as yours is truly a rare and special occurrence. I have spent much of my life fostering young inventors and encouraging them to follow their dreams. But, alas, it is I who must ask a favor of you.

  I, like you, have long admired the incredible life and work of Nikola Tesla. The gifts Tesla bestowed unto us are countless. Not a day passes when we do not all benefit from the fruits of his labor. Yet, due to the extraordinary claims he made at the end of his life, Tesla died penniless and an object of ridicule. I intend to correct this inexcusable injustice. But I can’t do it without you, Vincent. I believe you may be the only person who can help unravel Tesla’s secrets and right this terrible wrong.

  Tesla had been working on some extraordinary inventions at the end of his life. And he claimed to have working prototypes. Now, I have those prototypes. As well as all of Tesla’s notes and sketches from the last years of his life. I believe I’m close to making Tesla’s greatest dream a reality, but I fear I don’t have the time, or strength, to see it through. I believe, however, that you do. I could see it in your kite invention. In your bubble invention. And in your eyes.

  I have enclosed all of Tesla’s notebooks for your review. Vincent, Tesla’s secret lies within these pages! I look forward to your thoughts and spending the summer together. Good-bye for now.

  Sincerely,

  Howard G. Whiz

  Vincent set the letter down and leaned back in his seat. He looked at the stack of sketches Anna had ripped out of Tesla’s notebooks. Tesla’s greatest secrets were now covered in bunnies, puppies, and kitties.

  Some of the most important inventions in history were unveiled at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. The television, microwave, copy machine, dishwasher, jet engine, computer, robot, and fluorescent light, as well as nylon, Plexiglas, and 3D movies were all unveiled there. But perhaps the most popular exhibit at the fair was Westinghouse’s Time Capsule.

  Scientists at Westinghouse developed an eight-hundred-pound time capsule made out of a special alloy capable of resisting the effects of time for five thousand years. Carefully selected items were placed inside the time capsule and the capsule was buried fifty feet below the fairground in New York’s Flushing Meadows Park. There it would remain sealed until the year 6939 AD.

  The Time Capsule’s carefully selected items included a note from Albert Einstein, various fabrics, metals, plastics, and seeds, a Sears, Roebuck catalog, a dictionary, an alarm clock, a baseball, eyeglasses, a toothbrush, a print of The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dalí, the instructions to the game pinball, invented by the young Howard G. Whiz—and several of Nikola Tesla’s invention notebooks.

  Nikola Tesla had gained worldwide fame forty-six years earlier when he and Westinghouse provided electricity to the great Chicago World’s Fair of 1893. More than half the country made their way to the Chicago World’s Fair to see the electric light. Over the next forty-six years Tesla would continue to wow the world with inventions like the radio, remote control, X-ray machines, neon lights, and radar.

  On September 23, 1938 a variety of scientists, inventors, and politicians gathered for the ceremonial burying of the Time Capsule. And young Howard G. Whiz could not believe his luck when he found himself standing next to the great Nikola Tesla. Howard was mesmerized by the eccentric inventor. Tesla spoke to the young boy and told Howard stories about what he thought the world might look like when the time capsule was opened. The two inventors, at opposite ends of life, discussed science, inventing, and the future. Howard was so impressed by Tesla that he was sure he would remember every word of their conversation for the rest of his life. And he did. Even now, at almost eighty-one years old, Howard could hear Tesla’s voice say:

  “I do not think there is any thrill that can go through the human heart like that of an inventor as he sees some creation of the brain unfolding to success.”

  Howard hung on Tesla’s every word and spent the rest of his life following in Tesla’s footsteps. Young Howard G. Whiz went on to create the Whizzer Toy Company and invent some of the most beloved toys in history.

  But as important as Tesla was to the world, he died penniless and alone just four years after Howard first met him. In the final years of his life Tesla made claims to wild inventions: inventions like earthquake machines, death ray devices, thought recorders, and wireless power. And although he claimed to have working prototypes, and proof of these inventions, the world turned its back on him. No one believed in the eccentric old inventor. No one except Howard G. Whiz.

  And so, finally, after a lifetime of success with toy inventing, Howard turned his focus back to Tesla. He was determined to show the world it had been wrong to doubt Nikola Tesla’s brilliant claims. Howard spent twelve years—and much of his fortune—collecting all the Tesla artifacts he could find. And he put together the largest collection in the world. It included many of Tesla’s most secret prototypes and notebooks from the last years of his life. But as hard as Howard tried, he was unable to solve the mysteries surrounding some of Tesla’s greatest
inventions. And as Howard’s health declined, he feared that Tesla’s greatest secrets would remain secrets forever. He spent many sleepless nights in his lab, poring over Tesla’s notes, looking and hoping for a clue. A miracle. As Howard packed the last of Tesla’s notebooks into the old wooden crate, he was sure he had found his miracle in young Vincent Shadow.

  “What’s your aunt’s name?” Kisha asked Vincent as they stood waiting on the airport sidewalk.

  “Bonnie,” Vincent replied.

  “And you’re sure she knew what time your flight was coming in?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure… I think,” Vincent said. “You can’t miss her. She drives the biggest car you’ve ever seen.”

  In 1975 Cadillac unveiled the largest car ever produced in America—the Fleetwood Brougham, quickly nicknamed “Landtanic.” Aunt Bonnie purchased her Fleetwood Brougham new in the spring of 1975 and drove it every day for the next thirty-five years. Aunt Bonnie and her Fleetwood Brougham were famous. The kids in Bonnie’s neighborhood knew to get out of the way when they saw the Landtanic coming down the street. And it wasn’t uncommon to see the big orange Fleetwood on the sidewalk as Bonnie tried to squeeze it into parking spots that would have easily accommodated two or three normal-sized cars.

  But after years of circling the block in search of a parking space big enough to dock her massive vehicle, Aunt Bonnie had traded in her Fleetwood for a brand-new ITTY, the world’s smallest production car. It was so small, in fact, that Vincent didn’t even notice Aunt Bonnie parked right in front of him.

  “Vinny! Vinny!” The entire car shook as Aunt Bonnie waved.

  Vincent didn’t see her. He was scanning the traffic for the orange Landtanic.

  Bonnie squeezed out of her brand-new two-seater ITTY. While the ITTY was small, Aunt Bonnie was smaller. Only the long orange pheasant feather on her hat stuck out over the roof of her car.

  “Vinny!” she yelled.

  “Aunt Bonnie?” Vincent walked around to the driver’s side of the ITTY.

  “Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you back in New York,” Aunt Bonnie said as she hugged Vincent.

  “It’s good to be home,” said Vincent.

  “Okay, Vincent,” Kisha said. “I’d better get back to work. Don’t forget Nikola,” she added as she handed Vincent the covered cage.

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, you brought your bird?” Aunt Bonnie asked.

  “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind. I just thought he would be lonely with me gone all summer.”

  “Oh, hon. No problem. I’m sure we’ll all have fun together.”

  “What happened to the orange car?” Vincent asked.

  “I’ve gone green! And this is a breeze to park.”

  Vincent stuffed his backpack into the tiny trunk and tried to squeeze his suitcase behind the seat.

  “Sorry. There isn’t much room. Try pulling your seat all the way forward.”

  Vincent slid the seat forward and forced his suitcase into the rear of the car. He squeezed into the seat, buckled his seat belt, and tried to pull Nikola’s cage onto his lap.

  “Pull it hard, Vinny.”

  Vincent pulled hard. The metal cage bent as he forced it in between him and the ITTY dashboard. Vincent didn’t notice that the cage door had popped open.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Bonnie said. “How’s your dad? Oh boy, we all miss him so much at the museum. It’s just not the same without him. No, not the same at all. You know, they hired this Mr. Jilliver to run the museum after your dad left. And I don’t think he would have enjoyed working for Mr. Jilliver. Nope. No sir. No one does. It’s just not the same.”

  “My dad’s doing good, I guess.” Vincent said. He could hardly breathe. Nikola’s cage was jammed into his ribs. Bonnie pulled away from the curb. Every crack in the road felt like a crater in the ITTY. Vincent winced in pain.

  “Like just the other day, we got in a new exhibit in and I understand it wasn’t the greatest exhibit in the history of the museum, but still, Mr. Jilliver didn’t send out any cards. Or put up posters. Or anything. He didn’t want to spend the money. So no one came! Not a one! I sat there waiting to take tickets and no one showed. It was so sad. That wouldn’t happen when Mr. Velocette and your dad were running the museum.”

  Vincent groaned. He was sure the cage had poked right into him. Was he bleeding? He could feel something. He looked down. The towel covering the cage was moving.

  “Oh, no!” Vincent yelled as a flurry of feathers flew into his face.

  Aunt Bonnie screamed. And Nikola screeched as he tried to gain flight. But there was nowhere to fly. Nikola smacked headfirst into the windshield and fell into Aunt Bonnie’s lap. Aunt Bonnie screamed again. Nikola used his beak to climb Aunt Bonnie. He climbed up the front of her shirt, pulled himself up onto her shoulders, hopped to her hat, spun around, fluffed his feathers, and nestled in.

  “Sorry,” Vincent said.

  Vincent hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

  Vincent’s entire body was shaking. He opened one eye. Aunt Bonnie was standing directly above him, shaking his shoulder.

  “Oh, good morning. Boy, you must have been tired. You were sound asleep. I wish I could sleep like that. Wow! Well, I would’ve let you sleep in longer, but you don’t want to be late on your first day. No sir.” Aunt Bonnie turned on the bedroom light.

  Vincent looked at the clock. It was 4:55 AM.

  “Thanks,” Vincent said.

  “I’ll make you some cereal, hon. I just need to mix up some milk,” Aunt Bonnie

  said as she walked out of the room.

  “Great,” Vincent said. Great, Vincent thought. He’d forgotten all about Aunt Bonnie’s powdered milk.

  Vincent rubbed his eyes and followed Aunt Bonnie to the kitchen. He sat down at the kitchen table and watched Aunt Bonnie pull the dusty can from the cupboard. He was sure it had been there since his mother was a little girl.

  “So, are you excited for your first day at the toy company?” Bonnie asked as she poured some powder into a pitcher of water.

  “I guess so.” Vincent’s stomach hurt. He wasn’t sure if he was worried about telling Howard Whiz that the Tesla sketches were ruined, or just worried about having to drink the cloudy water that Aunt Bonnie was pouring into his glass.

  “Are you nervous, Vinny?”

  “I guess so,” Vincent said, watching the clumps of powder as they settled to the bottom of the glass.

  “Oh, don’t be nervous. You’re going to be great. Just great.” She placed the pitcher of milky water into the refrigerator. “Oh, hon, you’d better hurry up and eat. I’ll drop you off on my way to the museum. I like to be there by five thirty. I put the coffee on, ya know.”

  Vincent looked down at the bowl.

  “That’s strange,” he said. Vincent could swear that Cheerios usually floated in milk.

  Vincent squeezed out of the ITTY.

  “Okay, honey. You have a great day. I’m just across the street. Oh, well, you know that. Goodness. It’s not like you didn’t grow up here. Well, have a great time and just walk over to the museum when you’re done. Good luck, hon. Have fun!” Vincent could hear Aunt Bonnie yelling, “YOU’LL BE GREAT” as she zipped up the street.

  Howard G. Whiz lived and worked out of a six-story Gothic mansion called the Carlisle. It was located on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Seventy-eighth Street. Vincent looked down at his watch. Five thirty two AM. He looked up at the Carlisle. It was dark. He wondered if it was too early to ring the bell. He was sure that Howard would hear the bell if he rang it, but Vincent wasn’t sure he wanted him to. What would he say? How would he explain Anna’s ruining the Tesla sketches? Ruining any chance Howard had of fulfilling his dream? And Tesla’s dream? The pain in his stomach grew stronger.

  Vincent decided to go for a walk. He crossed Fifth Avenue to Central Park, just as he had done every day of his life. His previous life. Before Minnesota. He walked down the path past Turtle Pond. He crossed the
street and kept walking until he was standing in front of his old house. It hadn’t changed. The blinds on his old bedroom window were still missing the three rows that Vincent had used as slides in one of his massive Domino Rally undertakings.

  “Vincent? Vincent, is that you?”

  Vincent turned around as his former neighbor Mrs. Moody picked up her newspaper and adjusted her robe.

  “Hi there, Mrs. Moody.”

  “Well, what are you doing here? Did your dad move back already? I had a feeling he’d be back.”

  “No. I’m the only one here. I’m staying with my Aunt Bonnie this summer.”

  “Oh. Well, how is your dad doing?”

  “He’s good.”

  “Good, good.” Mrs. Moody walked to the curb. “It’s so good to see you. You’ll have to come to dinner. We miss you around here.”

  “I miss it here too,” Vincent said, looking up at his old room.

  “I’ll tell you, it’s been a circus here since you moved out. An honest-to-goodness circus. That Timmy Zimmerman has half the New York press corps hanging around the neighborhood. They say he’s some sort of genius. I say he’s trouble with a capital T.” Mrs. Moody shook her rolled-up newspaper at Vincent’s old building.

  “Yeah, well…” Vincent said. “I’d better get going.”

  “It was good to see you, Vincent. Stop by again.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I will,” Vincent said as he took one last look up at his old bedroom window.

  “Hey there! Hey you! Look out!”

  Vincent felt something fly inches above his head. He turned around in time to see an object smack into the side of a taxi and land back at his feet.

  The cabbie threw his arms up in anger.

  “Sorry. Wasn’t me,” Vincent said.

  Vincent bent down and picked up the long black tube. It was shining and heavy and had a white string hanging out of one end. The string was quickly being sucked into the tube.