“What about your head?” the ice pet called. “You’ve become so wonderfully large you cannot see around yourself. Don’t you need an extra head at the other end of your body?”

  Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that? The pain was unspeakable, but with his iron determination, Josh formed another head.

  Next came the addition of a tail in the center of his body. Then fur for the tail. Then extra arms. And on and on it went. “How many more levels?” Josh gasped, the sweat pouring from both of his faces.

  “Just two, Joshua O’Brien,” the pet called, “just two more levels to reach perfection.”

  Josh nodded but felt himself growing dizzy. The edges around his vision became white and blurry. The pain was too great, too overpowering. He began losing consciousness.

  But the coach urged him on. “You’re nearly there, dear heart. You can reach physical perfection, we know you can!”

  “What . . . what’s next?” Josh groaned.

  “Feathers!” the pet shouted in what sounded like glee. “Imager’s most perfect and beautiful creatures all have gorgeous, multicolored feathers!”

  “Are you sure?” Joshua moaned.

  “Of course I’m sure. Look at the creature over there.”

  With great difficulty, Josh moved his heads and saw feathers starting to sprout from his nearest competitor. Having no other thought but to win, Josh groaned and followed suit. One by one, he forced the tiny hairs on his body to expand into brilliant, colorful feathers. This was no easy task. It required complete concentration. And as each hair blossomed into a bright, gaudy feather, Josh let out an agonizing scream of pain.

  But he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. If this is what made him the most perfect looking of all creation, then this is what he’d be!

  Finally, as the last feather grew and sprouted, Josh felt himself drifting up to the next level.

  “Congratulations, dear heart!” the coach shouted. “You’re in the lead! One more level!”

  Josh lifted his heads. Above him was a ceiling of what looked like sand. “I can’t . . . go through that.”

  “Yes, you can!” the pet shouted. “It is very thin.”

  “You’re practically there!” the coach shouted. “One more level to go!”

  Josh was in such pain that he could barely hear. “I don’t—” He coughed. “I don’t. . .” The words would not come; the pain was too great.

  “You can do it!” the pet shouted. “Soon you’ll be physically perfect. You’ll be through with this portion of the kingdom and enter the Realm of Perfect Popularity just above you!”

  “I . . .”

  “And then the Sea of Justice,” the coach cried. “The sea is waiting for you!”

  “What . . . do I have . . . to do?” Josh gasped.

  “Just one more transformation,” the coach shouted.

  “What?”

  “Your brain! Transform your brain to be like ours!”

  “WHAT!”

  “So you can hear our thoughts!” the pet cried.

  “You’re . . . crazy. I can’t—”

  There was a piercing scream just below them. All three looked down and saw the only remaining competitor sprout the last of his feathers and slowly rise toward them.

  “Hurry, he’s gaining!” the coach cried. “You must reach the next realm before he does!”

  “I can’t—”

  “If you don’t, he will win, you will lose!”

  “All your work will be in vain!”

  “But not . . . not my brain,” Josh groaned. “I can’t give you . . . my brain.”

  The other creature had finally drifted to his level. Now he and Josh were neck and neck.

  “If you don’t change your brain,” the pet cried, “we cannot communicate—we cannot help you through the next realm!”

  “But . . . it’s . . . all I have left.”

  “AHHH . . . the other creature cried in pain and began to rise. He was about to pass Josh and enter the next realm.

  “Here!” The coach shoved something hard and blue into one of Josh’s hands. “It’s a communicator. Wrap your ear around it.” “What?”

  “If you will not give us your brain, then wrap an ear around this. It will allow you to hear us!”

  “But—”

  The creature continued rising. Any second he’d break through into the next realm and win!

  “Now!” the pet cried. “Do it now!”

  “Hurry!” the Illusionist shouted.

  Josh grabbed one of his ears and wrapped it around the tiny device. “AHHHHH!” he screamed and immediately shot upward.

  It was going to be close. He was beside the creature now. Just inches to go. He stretched out his necks as far as he could and . . . that did the trick! Josh struck the sand and broke through just a fraction of a second before the other creature.

  “You did it!” the pet shouted.

  “Congratulations, dear heart!” the Illusionist cried. “You’re physically perfect. You’ve reached the next realm with all the other perfect creatures!”

  Josh raised his heads and looked about. All around him were the winners from other races . . . each of their bodies as strange and different as his own.

  Denise and Nathan raced through the mall continuing their search. Bud said they had to find perfect people, that only perfect people could save Joshua. But Bud wasn’t there—the tape had run out, and now they were on their own.

  “Look out!” Nathan shouted as they rounded a corner. He quickly yanked Denise back. Directly in front of them were dozens of runners. They were all dressed in track shoes and running shorts. Like everybody else, they were upside down and semitransparent. But these runners weren’t running. Oh sure, their legs were pumping up and down, and they were breathing hard . . . but they never moved forward—not an inch.

  “Who are you?” Nathan called to the nearest runner. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m racing,” the runner called back.

  “Why?”

  The runner jabbed his thumb at the rest of the group. “Because they are.”

  “Why are they racing?”

  “Because I am!”

  Nathan scowled. “Where are you racing to?” he asked.

  “Wherever they are!” the runner shouted.

  “And they’re racing . . . ” Nathan already suspected the answer.

  “Wherever I am,” the man shouted.

  Well, that about wrapped it up in the logic department. This was weirder than the housewife queen or the beggar businessmen. Nathan had never heard such backward thinking. Then again maybe it wasn’t backward, maybe it was just . . . upside down.

  “What about you?” Denise called to another runner. “Why are you running?”

  “Because they are!” came the answer.

  “And they’re running . . . ” Denise paused, waiting for the obvious.

  “Because I am.”

  “Come on,” Nathan sighed, “let’s get out of here.” He turned toward the stereo and TV store.

  But Denise had to try one last time. With a loud voice she shouted to the entire group. “Don’t any of you know why you’re running?”

  The answer came back loud and clear, and in perfect unison: “BECAUSE THEY ARE!”

  Denise shook her head, then turned to Nathan . . . and just in time. “Look out!” she cried.

  Nathan looked up to see a slithering black tentacle shoot out of the display window of the stereo and TV store. It came from one of the big-screen TVs and passed through the window as easily as if it wasn’t there. But where it came from wasn’t as important as where it was going.

  It was heading straight for him!

  Nathan froze, unsure where to run. Denise saved him the effort. She dove into the air and tackled him hard to the ground—just as the tentacle swooshed above their heads, missing them by inches.

  Quickly, they scrambled back to their feet and turned to the display window. What Nathan saw made him go cold. A dozen big-screen TVs were playing. And reaching out from each and every one was a long, slimy tentacle. A few of the tentacles, like the one that had tried to catch him, swished and flicked in the air searching for a careless victim, but most had already found somebody. Most had already wrapped around a passing child or adult and had dragged them forward until their faces were pressed flat against the window.

  At first the people fought and struggled, but as the tentacles forced them to stare at the TV screens, they slowly stopped fighting . . . as if they’d lost the will to resist.

  “Don’t look at the screens!” Nathan warned Denise. “Whatever you do, don’t look at the—”

  But he was too late. Denise was already looking.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her voice sounding fainter and far away.

  “Don’t look at the—” But Nathan never finished his sentence. The tentacle that had nearly captured him was slithering toward her.

  “Denny, get back!”

  “Don’t worry,” she answered, her voice growing thinner, “there’s nothing wrong with watching—”

  “It’s coming straight for—”

  “—everybody’s watch—”

  Suddenly, the tentacle wrapped itself around her waist. It started dragging her toward the window. Nathan stayed at her side, punching and hitting the thing for all he was worth, but it did no good. “Denny!”

  It pulled her up against the glass along with the other helpless victims.

  "Denny!”

  Nathan was frantic. Then an idea suddenly came to mind. He reached down and yanked the canteen from Denise’s belt. He quickly unscrewed the cap. Then he began pouring the liquid letters and words onto the tentacle. Every place they touched hissed and smoked, burning deep into the creature. The tentacle thrashed and whipped in agony, its flesh sizzling and popping until it finally released Denise and made a hasty retreat.

  “Denny, can you hear me?” Nathan shouted. “Denny!”

  At first all she did was stare glassy-eyed at the TV in front of her. It wasn’t until he forced her head around to look at him that life seemed to slowly return.

  “Oh . . . hi, Nathan.” She gave a confused smile. “What’s up, what happened?”

  “What happened?” he cried. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the window. “Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

  “But the people,” Denise protested, looking around the mall. “We’ve got to find the perfect people.”

  “There’s nobody perfect around here,” he snapped. “Everyone is upside down and all misty and just plain weird. No one here has Imager’s Breath.”

  “So where do we look?” Denise asked.

  Nathan didn’t have a clue. Maybe Bud was wrong. Maybe they’d never find the perfect people. Maybe no one could save Joshua from Bobok and the Illusionist. Maybe he really would be destroyed in the Sea of—

  “Wait a minute!” Denise’s face suddenly lit up. “What about a church? If we’re looking for perfect people, maybe we should try a church!”

  “A church?” Nathan asked skeptically He didn’t know much about churches or churchgoers. Oh sure, a lot of kids in his class went to Sunday school and stuff, but from what he’d seen, they were anything but perfect.

  “No, listen,” Denise insisted. “Our neighbors across the street go to church—and they’re pretty cool—and my cousins, they’re all right.”

  “Okay.” Nathan shrugged, figuring they’d give it a try. “So where’s the closest church?”

  “Over there.” Denise pointed to a row of public telephones.

  “What?”

  “In the phone book! Let’s look one up in the phone book!”

  Chapter 7

  The Realm of Popularity

  "What is this place? Josh wondered as he turned his two feathery heads from side to side. All around him were creatures of every imaginable shape and size. Some as big as buildings, others as small as bugs. Some with one body and a hundred heads, others with a hundred bodies and no head.

  Anxious to investigate, Josh lumbered forward on his six legs. Well, actually he did a lot more falling than lumbering. When you’re only used to two legs, having six can be a little confusing.

  But at least there was ground to fall upon. Ah, blessed, beautiful, dependable ground. What a relief. No more floating around like in that last realm. There were also other features he appreciated like rocks, sand, trees, even a sun or two.

  As far as Josh could tell, he was on some sort of beach. But it was the ocean that really caught his attention. Instead of water it seemed to be made of metal that was as shiny as silver.

  “You there—the new kid!” a voice called.

  Josh turned his heads to see what could only be described as a walking set of old-fashioned encyclopedias. That’s right. The creature looked like twenty-six separate books all linked together. Somewhere in the middle, about the “M” volume, there was a small mouth and a pointed nose. And on both sides of that (about the “L” and “N” volumes), there were two narrow eyes.

  “Hello,” Josh said, trying his best to sound cheery. (Even here he was concerned about making the right impression.) He wanted to reach out and shake hands, but with four additional limbs to choose from he wasn’t exactly sure which to offer.

  “Welcome,” the encyclopedia answered pleasantly.

  Josh nodded. “Thanks. Listen, would you mind telling me where I am?”

  The encyclopedia gave a gentle laugh. “My, you really are ignorant, aren’t you?”

  Suddenly, Josh felt a numbness rush through his mind—as if part of his brain had gone to sleep—as if his memory had been erased. He grabbed both of his heads and staggered backward. The creature’s opinion of him had become true. He had become ignorant!

  “No!” Josh cried. But it was too late. By the time he looked up, the creature had left. So had most of Josh’s intelligence. In fact, Josh was so ignorant that it was all he could do to remember his own name.

  “What’s going on?” he shouted. “Somebody, please help me!”

  “It is the second half of the kingdom,” the coach’s pet answered through the communicator in Josh’s ear, “the Realm of Perfect Popularity.”

  It took all of Josh’s concentration to remember the little blue ball. “What . . . what happened?” he stammered.

  The pet’s voice continued. “In the Realm of Popularity you become exactly what people think you are.”

  “That is correct,” the coach’s voice agreed. “Here, you literally become their opinion of you.”

  Josh stared blankly ahead, trying to understand.

  “They think you’re stupid,” the pet’s voice said, “so you become stupid. If they think you’re smart, you become smart.”

  “But that’s not fair,” Josh protested, “becoming what people think of you.”

  “Of course it is,” the coach replied. “You, dear heart, have lived your entire life for what people think of you. Here, at last, you will become exactly that. It is entirely fair because it is entirely what you’ve wanted.”

  “But . . . ” Josh tried to argue; however, since he had no further thoughts on the subject, it seemed a little pointless. Come to think of it, he had no further thoughts on any subject. Not anymore. But he did have a question. “Can I ever, you know, get smart again?”

  “Of course,” the coach answered.

  “How?”

  “Just convince someone to think you’re smart.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “That’s what this realm is about,” the pet’s voice said. “And that’s the way you become perfect enough to enter the Sea of Justice. Convince everybody that you’re perfect and, just like that, you’ll be perfect.”

  “Hey, you!”

  Josh spun around just in time to see a giant rock rolling down the beach toward him. And we’re not talking your average, run-of-the- mill giant rock. We’re talking your top-of-the-line boulder . . . one big enough to crush a house!

  “Oh, hi there,” Josh called. He tried to sound calm as the rock continued rolling toward him. But even Josh’s limited intelligence knew that this rock had no intention of slowing down for a friendly chat. Instead, it seemed to have only one purpose . . . to flatten him. And it was about to succeed!

  “No . . . don’t!” Josh cried. “Please! Please stop, don’t hit me!”

  The boulder gave a hearty chuckle and picked up speed, rolling even faster.

  With Josh’s lack of mental skills, it was tough to figure out what to do. But eventually he realized he had two choices: Run . . . or, well . . . run. It was a difficult decision. But after much concentration and one lucky guess, he made the right choice.

  As he took off running the boulder roared with laughter. “My, oh my, if you ain’t just about the scaredest, most cowardly thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Before Josh knew it, sheer terror filled his mind. Any courage he’d had quickly disappeared. His heart pounded. He began running around in panicky little circles screaming, “Help me! Help me! Help me!” until, at last, he spotted a huge piece of driftwood and scrambled under it for cover.

  The boulder changed course and headed off in another direction, laughing all the way. He had decided Josh was a coward and that is what Josh had become. Now the poor guy was consumed by fear— mindless, irrational fear. And not fear of one thing or another, but fear of everything.

  “Relax,” the pet cooed through his communicator.

  “What’s happening?” Josh screamed as he continued to kick and fight his way further under the driftwood.

  “As I said, in this realm you become exactly what people think of you.”

  “How do I change it?” Josh squealed in terror. “How do I change?”

  “Convince them to think differently,” the coach replied. “That’s the only way to be perfect enough to enter the Sea of Justice. You must make everybody think you’re perfect.”

  “But . . . they’ll hurt me . . .”

  “Joshua O’Brien,” the pet’s voice scolded, “you’ve devoted your entire life to impressing people. You’ll do splendidly here. Splendidly.”

 

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