Chapter 6

            The 'For Sale' sign had been on the front lawn of the house next door for six months.  As Will's father loaded up the car, a man in a suit plucked the sign out of the ground.  "Looks like we're going to have some new neighbors," Dad said.

            "Who?" Will asked.

            "I'm not sure."

            "Will they be nice?"

            "I don't know.  I assume so."

            "They're probably going to be vampires," Tom said after they had got in the car.

            "Are not."

            "Yes they will.  And they'll live in coffins in the basement and they'll only come out at night to bite you in the neck and suck your blood."

            "Will not!"

            "Will so.  They'll suck your blood first because you're the youngest, so yours is the sweetest.  Little boys' blood is like candy to them."

            Will screamed at this, ducking in his seat so no vampires could see him.  His mother turned around, her face turning red.  "Stop it, you two.  We haven't even left yet and you two are already fighting."

            "He started it," Will said.  "He said our neighbors are going to be vampires."

            "Tom, don't scare your brother."

            "I can't help he's such a baby he's easy to scare."

            "Thomas, I mean it."

            "Fine."  Tom folded his arms across his chest.  He looked away from Will, not so much looking at him until they reached the South Dakota border.  When they passed the sign, Tom leaned over to punch Will in the shoulder.  "That's one down."

            Will tried to hit his brother back, but Tom easily deflected it.  "Mo-om!"

            "Boys, settle down.  Your father is trying to drive."

            Will stuck out his tongue at Tom and then took Spot from where he lay on the top of the goods piled up in the rear of the station wagon.  As they passed by cars, Will had Spot wave at them with one paw.  When he tired of this, he began narrating to himself.  "We're going deep into enemy territory to find the plans for the deadly Doom Laser.  If we don't find the plans and return, everyone will be killed."

            "You're not looking for the plans," Tom said.  He took Buster from the trunk.  "We're looking for the plans."

            "Why don't you both look for the plans?" Mom said.  To Dad she snapped, "We were supposed to get off on that exit."

            "I know what I'm doing," Dad said.

            Will and Tom ignored this.  "We're going deep into enemy territory," Tom repeated.  "It's going to be a long, dangerous mission.  If they find us, they'll feed us to the Magma Monster, where we'll be burned alive."

            Will shivered at this, picturing a huge creature with molten lava dripping from it, incinerating anything it touched.  "But where are the plans?" Spot asked through Will.

            "They're in a fortress, at the top of the highest spire, guarded by a legion of the most powerful Mechanauts," Buster said through Tom.

            "Our Power Collars should be able to handle them."

            "Maybe, but we can't use them until absolutely necessary or else we'll have the entire Galactic Dominion on us.  That's why we're riding in this merchant ship, so we can go in disguise and infiltrate the fortress.  But we have to make sure not to do anything to draw attention to ourselves."

            "Right."  Will and Spot stared out the window, watching the other merchant vessels of the Galactic Dominion, the sworn enemies of the Bloc of Planetary States.  It was of course risky for the Bloc to send in its two greatest leaders, but there was no one else they could trust with a mission of such vital importance.

            The merchant ship stopped to refuel at an outpost in Quadrant Epsilon Seven, also referred to as Minneapolis.  Buster and Spot stayed with the merchants in a small inn, where they would make camp for the night until the ship's power cells recharged.  They decided to take turns standing guard, Spot taking the first watch, sitting on Will's chest, his Power Collar ready to eliminate any threat.

            During the night, Will rolled over in his sleep, Spot tumbling off him into a crack between the bed and wall.

#

            The next morning, Dad shook Will awake.  "Come on, champ, we have to get going.  We have a long way to go today."  When Will didn't immediately stir, Dad carried him from the bed, into the bathroom.  He tousled Will's hair and then said, "Make sure you get it all out.  I don't want to have to stop at the next exit."

            Will emptied out his bladder and then went back into his room to find Mom had already laid out his clothes for the day.  "Hurry up, young man.  We have to get moving."

            "All right."

            It wasn't until they reached the Illinois border that Tom took Buster from the trunk.  "We're getting closer," Buster said through Tom.

            Will reached back to find Spot, but the stuffed dog wasn't there.  He took off his seatbelt so he could turn all the way around.  Searching through suitcases and other items in the trunk, he still couldn't find Spot.  "Mom, where's Spot?"

            "I don't know, honey, didn't you have him?"

            "No."

            "Tom did you take your brother's toy?"

            "No, I didn't touch it."

            "Thomas, if you're lying—"

            "Honest, Mom, I didn't take it!"

            "Then where is he?" Will asked, tears bubbling up in his eyes.

            "Are you sure you didn't put him in a suitcase?" Mom asked.

            Will thought back to that morning, trying to remember the last time he had seen Spot.  The stuffed dog had been with him when he fell asleep that night—"He's in the motel!"  The tears became sobs.  "We have to go back for him!"

            "Now, Will—"

            "We have to, Daddy!  We can't leave him behind."

            His parents whispered to each other in the front seat.  Finally his father nodded.  "All right, we'll go back for him.  Just wait for the next exit."

            The return trip took a grueling hour, during which Will couldn't stop crying.  How could he have left Spot behind?  How could he have forgotten about him?  Even Tom sensed his distress, putting a consoling hand on Will's shoulder.  "I'm sure he's still there."

            The station wagon pulled into the motel parking lot and up to the office.  Once he stopped the car, Dad looked back at Will.  "I'll go in and talk to them."

            "I want to come," Will protested.

            "You stay here with your mom."

            It took another fifteen minutes before Dad returned.  "There he is!" Will said, pointing to his father.  Then he saw Dad's hands were empty. 

#

            The rest of the trip went by in a depressing haze.  Dad bought Will a stuffed raccoon from the Lincoln Park Zoo, whom Will named Ricky.  He tried to play with the raccoon in the same fashion, but it wasn't the same.  Spot had been his toy and near-constant companion for over two years; he couldn't be replaced so easily. 

            No more mention was made about deadly missions into Dominion territory.  Even when they arrived at the Magic Kingdom, Tom didn't try to storm the main spire to find the Doom Laser plans.  It was understood between them that the loss of Spot had put the game on hold, at least for the moment.

            By the time they reached Florida, Will managed to stop crying and even laugh and smile at times like normal.  But when alone at night, he shed tears for his lost companion, blaming himself for being so careless as to leave Spot behind.  The stuffed dog had been as loyal as a real dog and Will had repaid this faithfulness with neglect.

            Two weeks since they left Preston, they pulled into the driveway.  Other than the newspapers on the overgrown front lawn, not much had changed since they left, at least not at their house.  Next door was another matter.  A Honda sedan now sat in the driveway of the house and someone had put curtains over the windows.  Perhaps the biggest change was the little girl sitting in the backyard.

            She sat at a plastic table in front of a pink playhouse.  A white cat with a tiara on its head occupied the other chair at the table.  "More tea, Whiskers?" the little girl asked.

            "Do you think she's a vampire?" Will asked his brother.           

            "Of course not, stupid.  Vampires only come out at night."

            "Oh, right."

            They didn't go over to her right away, watching her from their bedroom window instead.  "Can't we go outside?" Will asked in a whine.

            "You can do what you want.  I'm making sure she's not up to something."

            From what Will could tell, the little girl wasn't up to anything except drinking imaginary tea with her stuffed cat.  Growing bored of watching her, Will sank onto his bed to idly throw Ricky Raccoon in the air.  He had thrown Ricky twenty-five times before Tom pulled away from the window.  Tom grabbed Buster off the bed.  "I'm going over there."

            "I want to go too."

            "Fine, but don't say anything stupid."

            "I won't."

            Mom and Dad had the same idea.  They escorted Will and Tom next door, keeping them in front as they went up the front steps.  Mom rang the doorbell and then put a hand on Will to hold him in place.  "I want you two on your best behavior," she said.

            A woman with long dark hair answered the door.  The dark hair combined with her pale skin put Will in mind of a vampire.  Maybe this was a new kind of vampire that could go out in the daylight.  He squirmed in his mother's grasp but she held him steady.  The woman's pale face lit up as she smiled.  "Hello!  You must be our neighbors.  I'm Patricia McCormick."

            "I'm Vicki Denton.  This is my husband Carl and my two boys Thomas and William.  We live next door."

            "How lovely.  And how old are your boys?"

            "Tom is nine and Will is seven."

            "That's great!  My little Jessica is eight.  She's in the backyard if they'd like to go say hello," Mrs. McCormick said.

            "What do you think, boys?"

            "Sure," Tom said too readily.  "Come on, dummy."  He took Will's arm, pulling him off the front step and around to the backyard.  Jessica was still playing in front of her playhouse with her cat, serving imaginary crumpets with the imaginary tea.

            "These crumpets are so delightful, Mrs. Catt," she said, giving the stuffed cat a curtsy.  When she looked up, she let out a startled cry.  "Who are you?"

            "I'm Tom and he's Will.  And this is Buster," Tom said, holding up the bulldog.

            "He looks gross," Jessie said.

            "Hear that, dummy, she wants you to leave," Tom said.

            "I meant the dog.  He's ugly."

            "He is not.  You're ugly."

            "Am not.  My face isn't all pushed-in and wrinkled like his."

            "Your face is just covered in cooties."

            "Is not."

            Tom stuck a foot out to knock over the chair the stuffed cat sat in.  The white cat tumbled onto the grass, its tiara falling away.  "Cats are stupid and ugly."

            "They are not!  Whiskers is a lot prettier than that thing!"  Jessie picked up her cat, pressing it to her chest.  "Why don't you leave me alone?"

            "We're not leaving.  This whole backyard is part of the Bloc of Planetary States.  That makes it Buster's territory."

            "It is not the State of Planetary Blocks.  This backyard is Cattatonia and it's ruled by Whiskers."  To emphasize this, Jessie picked up the plastic tiara and settled it on Whiskers' head.  "Now get out of our country."

            Tom made a zapping sound.  "Buster just killed your stupid cat with his Power Collar."

            "No he didn't."

            "Did so.  His Power Collar can destroy anything."

            "No.  Whiskers' collar puts up a shield that can block anything."

            "No it can't.  There's no such thing as a shield that can stop a Power Collar."

            "There is now," Jessie said smugly.  She turned on her heel, pigtails brushing against Tom's face.  Then she ducked into the pink playhouse with her stuffed cat.

            "We'll be back," Tom said.

#

            The next day, they met Jessie in front of her house as she waited for the bus.  "We're going to come over today with the full might of the Bloc of Planetary States," Tom said.  "Then we'll see what happens to your stupid cat and its shield."

            "You can do whatever you want, but it won't matter.  Cattatonia has a shield that can deflect anything.  So there."

            Will stayed out of this exchange.  He didn't really want to declare war on Cattatonia or this little girl.  She was just a stupid girl and she probably did have cooties, but Will still didn't want to fight her.  He knew there was nothing he could say to dissuade Tom, though, not after he made up his mind about something like this.  So he stayed out of it.

            That afternoon, as soon as the bus let them off Tom ran inside to begin mustering their forces for the assault.  Will followed more slowly, still uncommitted.  "What's with the long face?" his mother asked.  "Bad day at school?"

            "Not really," he said.

            "Well, your father and I have something to cheer you up."  His mother reached beneath the kitchen counter for a package wrapped in green paper.

            "It's not my birthday," Will said.  "Or Christmas."

            "Just go on and open it."

            Will tore off the green paper.  Beneath it, a familiar face looked back at him.  It was Spot!  Or at least Spot as he had originally looked, with both of his plastic eyes still attached.  Though when Will looked closer, the gray dog's ears were a darker brown, almost black.  He ripped open the rest of the package to free the dog.  When he did, he threw it to the floor.  "This isn't Spot!"

            "Now, honey, your father spent all last night looking.  This is the best he could find."

            "But he doesn't have any spots," Will said.  Indeed the gray dog's back was completely gray without a single spot on it.

            "I know, but I was thinking I could sew some spots on for you.  Then he'd look the same as your old dog."

            "No he wouldn't."

            Mom bent down to retrieve the dog.  She stayed on her knees to look Will in the eye.  "Please, honey, can't you just give it a try?"

            Will looked at the dog's plastic eyes that seemed to plead with him.  "OK.  But he isn't Spot Mangy Mutt.  He's…Spot Mangy Mutt II."

            "That's good.  Now, why don't you go show your brother?"

            Tom snorted at the new dog.  "How can he be Spot II when he doesn't have any spots?"

            "He did have spots, but he lost them.  Some evil Mechanauts burned them off and when his fur grew back, the spots didn't grow back."

            "Fine, but I still think it's dumb."

            "I don't care.  That's his name.  And now he's the ruler of Muttlandia and he has a Power Collar too."

            "Good, then he can help take over Cattatonia from that stupid girl."

            "I don't know—"

            "We have to take it over.  Cats are evil."

            "Well, I suppose."

            Carrying an armload of stuffed toys apiece, they marched next door to wage war on Cattatonia.  Jessie had prepared for them by taking cover in her playhouse.  "There's no way you can break down our shields," she said.  "You and your stupid toys might as well go away."

            Tom dropped his toys on the ground, except for Buster.  He made whooshing sounds like a jet fighter and zigzagged his way towards the playhouse.  Once he got close to the playhouse, he made a zapping sound again.  He tried to tip over the playhouse, but it wouldn't move.  He tried again and again with the same result.  "We'll use both of our Power Collars, Spot."

            Will lent his muscles to the task, but the playhouse still wouldn't move.  They kept trying right until their mother called them for dinner without success.  "This isn't fair!" Tom shouted.  "You're cheating."

            "I am not," Jessie said from inside.

            "Yes you are."

            "I told you our shields could stop anything."

            Tom harrumphed.  Mom called them for dinner again, sounding more insistent this time.  "Hurry up, boys, before it gets cold."

            "Fine, we don't want your stupid planet anyway."  As Will gathered up the fallen stuffed toys, Tom stared at the playhouse.  He thrust Buster forward.  "You've proven yourself a worthy adversary.  Instead of fighting each other, we should work together.  What do you say, truce?"

            The plastic shutters of the playhouse opened to reveal Whiskers and Jessie.  "Meow, that sounds like a good idea."  She stuck the cat through the window, its pink nose and plastic whiskers brushing against the bulldog's pushed-in face.  "Meow, maybe we can be friends."

            "I would like that," Buster said, or perhaps it was really Tom saying it.

#

            A week later, Buster and Whiskers were married in Jessie's backyard.  It was a ceremony befitting the coming together of the president of Bulldogovia and queen of Cattatonia.  All of the other stuffed toys were in attendance.  Spot II served as the best dog for Buster, while Dr. Randy Ruff, a chocolate lab, presided over the ceremony.

            "I now pronounce you dog and wife," Dr. Ruff said.  Tom brought Buster forward at the same moment Jessie brought Whiskers forward.  Their mouths touched in the middle.  They made slurping and smacking noises for a moment and then it was over.  The Bloc had grown.