Saturday's Storyteller: "None of the boys liked what they saw through the X-ray goggles."

by Belinda Roddie

None of the boys liked what they saw through the X-ray goggles. Granted, what they viewed through them was bound to perturb anyone involved. Larry slowly lifted the spectacles away from his face, his eyes still bulging green outwardly toward the wall.

"You think he knows we're watching?"

Gregory, while disoriented, took the moment to click his tongue. "Don't be stupid. We have the goggles, not him."

"But suppose he finds out?"

"Then we come up with the best alibi ever," Gregory replied. "And it'll be concocted by Mister Storyteller here."

Howard threw up his hands in exasperation. Yes, he was the raconteur of the group, but there were always times that his creativity dissipated into the rudimentary "My dog ate it" level. He snatched the goggles from Larry and looped the strap around his neck.

"So," he muttered. "We've learned a lot of new things about Mister Liamsworth. Namely, that he's got the mind of Nikola Tesla and the arsenal of the United States Army."

"...Nikola who?"

Howard groaned a little too loudly. "Tesla. He was a Serbian scientist who invented AC electricity."

"English."

"Alternating current! Anyway, he also researched a lot on how to create laser weaponry. You know, like in the science fiction movies?"

"So, what? You think Liamsworth's gonna try to turn us all into rubble with a miniature Death Star?" asked Larry.

"Look, hear me out," Howard pleaded. "Maybe we should take an interest in his...hobbies. Do a little better in school, let him know we're trying to be cutting edge. It'd be better than remaining his enemies and being the first to die."

Gregory snorted, though he had to admit, the image from the X-ray goggles had gotten him more than a little anxious. Liamsworth was a squat, innocuously balding man with a penchant for the cafeteria's curly fries and whistling loudly out of the corner of his mouth while the boys were in detention. They figured he was just a goofball. Now he was a goofball standing in a basement full of what looked like cannons, rifles, and miniature drones like he was trying to create a futuristic Civil War reeenactment. The way the static electricity had played with his remaining strands of hair had just added to the crazed effect. And he was definitely smiling a little too widely.

"So," Gregory sighed, "we now have to be goodie-two-shoes for the rest of our middle school careers?"

"Maybe," sighed Howard.

"Dude, when you found these X-ray goggles, I thought we were golden. We had beef on Missus Derry for playing with action figures in her bedroom. We caught Mister Xavier making out with Missus Van Ernst in the school storage closet. We even got the janitor to cough up real cash because we found him dancing with and singing to his broom in the locked computer lab. Given how awesome these goggles are, I thought we'd have an embarrassing secret from Liamsworth."

"Yeah," scoffed Larry. "Like he wears a tutu around the house or plays ping pong with stuffed animals. But instead, he's equipped like the enemy of the state?"

"That's a good point, actually," commented Gregory. "Why don't we just alert the authorities?"

"No!" roared Howard. "Because he'll know it's us. He always knows it's us. C'mon, you think Missus Hines wouldn't report that it was her X-ray goggles we were borrowing if he asked how the heck anyone would have been able to look into his house? Not to mention our life science grades wil go down the tubes."

"Damn it, Howie, this is no time to be worrying about an A for dissecting an earthworm!"

"No, but it is time to consider the serious implications of pissing off a principal with a giant cannon."

There was an uneasy silence as the boys stopped shouting, worried that Liamsworth would hear them and scurry out to see what was going on. Howard sighed, pulled at the strap of the goggles, and looked away.

"I get it," Gregory said to the side of Howard's face. "I really do. But you're saying we should fraternize with Liamsworth and get on his good side. And frankly, I'd rather get on the good side of a rabid raccoon first."

"A rabid raccoon doesn't have AK-47s lined up on his walls, though," remarked Larry.

"Argh. Point." Gregory arched an eyebrow. "So what do you propose we do?"

"First," replied Howard, "we get an A on the next history test. Together."

***

"Well, I must say, boys," simpered Mister Xavier, looking over the exams before passing them back out. "You certainly surprised me with your newfound knowledge of Ancient Egypt. Mister Snyder, your 'short' response to the question about the pyramids was...uncharacteristic, to say the least."

"Why, thank you," sneered Gregory. "Being uncharacteristic is what I do best."

Howard gave Gregory a skeptical look. Mister Xavier inhaled through one nostril. All the boys could imagine was their teacher's tongue slipping down Missus Van Ernst's throat.

"I was worried, however, at first, given your...reputations. So I had Mister Liamsworth scan them to make sure nothing was awry."

"Did you, now?" asked Larry in a strained voice.

"Yes," Mister Xavier responded. "And he would like to see you all in his office after class. To congratulate you, of course."

"So...we're good?"

"As good as Egyptian gold," Mister Xavier smiled. "Keep this up, boys. You might get rewarded handsomely."

"Yeah, especially once we leak out your little romance with Van Ugh," grinned Gregory as the three boys headed out of the classroom.

"Van Ernst, asshole," snapped Howard. "I like her as a teacher. Don't you forget that."

"And don't you forget that your making us temporarily good test-takers is getting us face to face with Liamsworth. I don't get it."

"What's not to get? I told you, we need to fraternize with him."

"In his office?" scowled Larry. "Next thing we know, we put on the goggles and we find out that the room's secretly lined with napalm."

"Do you even know what napalm is?"

They waited outside the principal's office for some time before Mister Liamsworth waddled out. He looked at all three boys at once, then individually at each one, then scanned them again. He chuckled. His breath, from a distance, faintly smelled of seasoned starch.

"Come in, boys," he grunted. "I want to talk to you about your recently stellar performance in world history class."

"And then blow your heads off with a giant death ray," whispered Gregory to Howard as they shuffled into the office.

"Shut up, Greg."

Oh-so-conveniently, there were three chairs lined up in front of Mister Liamsworth's desk. As the boys sat, the principal reached into a drawer, and they all froze, expecting a pistol or a memory flasher. Instead, he drew out a small pack of what looked like peppermint gum, probably a sad attempt to mask the odor of curly fries. Mister Liamsworth popped a strip into his mouth, chewed carefully, and wordlessly offered the pack to the boys.

"Oh, no, thank you."

"I don't chew gum."

"I'm diabetic."

Howard and Larry stared at Gregory. He gave them a "Just roll with it" look and folded his hands across his lap.

"So," Liamsworth gnawed out. "Mister Snyder. Mister Mitts. Mister Atherberry. Your teacher told me all about your high grades on your history tests. Which I checked."

"Yes, sir," Howard blurted. "We studied very hard, sir."

Liamsworth worked the gum toward his left cheek and nodded slowly. "Good for you, boys. Good for you. I'm very impressed. Keep it up."

The relief hovering over each boy's head was palpable. But the bubbles of "Yay" would be short-lived.

"However, that's not the main reason why I called you in here."

Gregory could not help emitting a small, strained squeak, like a chipmunk being strangled. Liamsworth smiled.

"Tell me," he asked, "how have Missus Hines's X-ray goggles been treating you?"

Gregory squeaked again. Larry coughed wildly. Howard's brain jumped straight to alibis.

"It was an accident! We found them on the side of the road! Pigeons were eating them! My father is very ill, and I've been tending to him! Someone stole my book report!"

Mister Liamsworth allowed the poor youth to calm down, despite his friends casting him death glares. They were stunned to hear him laugh.

"You're probably wondering how I knew you were snooping around, spying on my house," he said. "Well, boys, it's very simple...first of all, you're very noisy. Second of all, Missus Hines is a very close friend of mine. We've known each other for years. We've also been very busy in the world outside school. And Missus Hines has been responsible for...well..."

"Helping you with your evil plans?" snarled Gregory, as if now ready to play the "hero."

"Evil?" Mister Liamsworth laughed. "Far from it. We have been hired, individually, to provide improved technology and weapon advancements to the United States government. The president is very dependent on minds like mine and Missus Hines' to promote scientific strategy and efficiency to the rest of the world."

"That doesn't explain the guns."

"Of course it does," retorted Liamsworth. "They've been modified. You see, Missus Hines and I both work on different scopes. I manage the local defense sector, and she deals with visual, aural, and other sense-oriented tools. Hence the X-ray goggles, for stealth missions. Mister Atherberry?"

Howard stiffened. Perhaps he was the first to go.

"You still have the goggles, correct?"

"Yes, sir," he muttered. "At home, sir."

"Good," Liamsworth smiled. "So they're effective?"

"Obviously, sir. I can't get the image of your mad scientist hair out of my head."

"Yes, the static in my house is something awful. But still. Excellent. Only one thing to do, then."

Gregory shrieked. "Zap us with a laser cannon?"

"Throw us into the river with concrete shoes?" wailed Larry.

"Reanimate Nikola Tesla and have him enslave us?" Howard howled.

Gregory stopped shrieking and stared at Howard. "Nice, Howie. Way to bring it full circle."

"I love Tesla!" exclaimed Liamsworth. "Genius man. No. The one thing to do is..."

"Wait for it," Larry muttered.

"Apprentice all of you."

"...Wait, what?" the boys chorused.

This week's prompt was provided by Daniel Bulone.