The Boy With Orange Hair

by Bill Bowler

Chapter 12 appears
in this issue.

Chapter 13, conclusion

The Saturn 9 touched down on the White House lawn. The General, the groundhog, and the boy hurried down the path and up the front steps. Three men wearing dark sunglasses opened the door and led them down the hall.

When they got to the Oval Office, the President turned off the TV and jumped up from behind his desk, “Guys! It’s great to see you! How are you?”

“It’s great to see you too, Mr. President!” said Gerry the groundhog.

“You’re just in time for dinner,” said The President. “Shirley made macaroni and cheese.”

“But Mr. President...”

“Later, later. Whatever it is, it will keep until after dinner.”

“But Mr. President...”

“Not now, later, after dinner...”

They had to agree. So they sat down to dinner with the President and the First Lady, Shirley, and, after two helpings of macaroni and cheese, got to talking and laughing and having fun and, before they knew it, it was 10 o’clock.

“Gee!” said the President. “It’s getting late. I’m bushed.”

“Why don’t you guys stay overnight?” asked Shirley. “There’s plenty of room.”

They had meant to tell the President about the holes in the sky and the Fokker parked behind the shed but everyone was so tired, they forgot and just said goodnight, and Shirley showed them to the guest bedrooms in the West Wing of the White House. It was sunrise with just the first hint of soft light in the east when the boy with orange hair’s bedroom door burst open and General Rickrack and three Secret Service agents burst into the room.”

“Wake up! Wake up! It’s an emergency!” shouted General Rickrack.

The boy yawned and rolled over.

“It’s the President!” shouted General. “He’s missing!”

“Whaaat?!” said the boy with orange hair.

“The President has disappeared!” said General Rickrack.

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“I’m not. Come with me. Quickly. Quickly.”

The boy jumped out of bed and ran out with General and the three Secret Service agents. The noise had woken Gerry up, too. He came out into the hallway, and they followed General upstairs to the President’s bedroom. Inside, they found Shirley wiping tears from her eyes.

“Tell us EXACTLY what happened,” said the boy with orange hair.

“Well,” sobbed Shirley, “We were very tired last night. We gave each other a good-night kiss and went to sleep next to each other right here in our bed. But this morning, I rolled over and my arm fell over here and just landed on the empty mattress and I woke up and the bed was empty! I got up and looked in the bathroom and looked in the closet and looked everywhere. He’s not here!”

“Pssst, pssst, pssst,” the three Secret Service agents whispered in each other’s ears.

“What the heck are we going to do?!” gasped Gerry the groundhog.

“Condition Red!” cried General Rickrack. “Mobilize the Armed Forces!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” said the boy with orange hair. “Everybody calm down. First thing is, let’s see if we can find any clues.”

“That’s right,” said Gerry. “He couldn’t just vanish into thin air.”

So the boy and the groundhog and General Rickrack and the three Secret Service agents began searching the bedroom for clues. The three Secret Service agents looked in the back of the closets. The General went into the bathroom and looked in the bathtub. Gerry looked behind the bookcase. And the boy with orange hair got down on his hands and knees and looked under the bed.

“Hmmm,” he thought. “What’s this?” He saw something rumpled up in the dust under the bed. He reached under and grabbed it and pulled it out.

“What have you got there?!” asked General Rickrack.

The boy unrolled the thing and it was a single bright red sock.

“Excuse me,” said the boy to Shirley. “Does this belong to the President?”

“Why no!” said Shirley, “the President has black socks for formal occasions and more casual brown socks and dark blue socks and one pair of green striped socks for golf, but as long as I have known him, he has never worn red socks. Never.

“Pssst, pssst, pssst,” the three Secret Service agents began whispering in each other’s ears.

“Then who’s sock is it?!” asked General Rickrack.

“Yeah!” said Gerry the groundhog. “Who the heck’s sock is it, anyway?”

“Over there!” cried the boy with orange hair who was looking out the bedroom window.

“Where?” they all shouted.

“There!” said the boy and they all ran to the window and looked where he was pointing. Outside on the White House lawn, someone was pushing a lawnmower. He was a short, chubby man with stubby little legs and a great big belly, in a black t-shirt and shorts, wearing one red sock on his right foot.

“Who’s that?” asked Gerry the groundhog.

“That’s Alfonso the White House gardener,” said General Rickrack.

“Well,” said the boy with orange hair, “maybe we should go have a little chat with Alfonso?”

They went downstairs and out the back door and started across the White House lawn. As they approached, Alfonso the gardener looked up and glared at them with beady little yellow eyes under great big bushy eyebrows. He had long thick black hair that hung to his shoulders.

“Hello, Alfonso,” said General Rickrack.

“Buenos días, Jefe,” said Alfonso.

“What are you doing out here?” asked General Rickrack.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” growled Alfonso. “I’m mowing the lawn.”

“Excuse me,” said the boy with orange hair. “Have we met before?”

“No!” snapped Alfonso.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“What is it?”

“Do you know what this is?” said the boy, and he took out the single red sock.

“It’s a sock. So what?!”

“Does it look familiar?”

“No! It doesn’t look familiar! Why should it look familiar?!” snapped Alfonso the gardener.

“Never seen it before?” asked the boy with orange hair.

“I told you already, no! Let’s drop it.”

“And what color is this unfamiliar sock?” asked the boy.

“Red. So what?!”

“And how many feet do you have?”

“Two!” snapped Alfonso. “Now can we just drop it?!”

“Two feet,” said the boy with orange hair. “Yes. And how many SOCKS are you wearing?”

“One!” snapped Alfonso. “So what?!”

“And what color is your one sock?”

“It’s RED! Who cares?!” shouted Alfonso.

“Hmmm,” said the boy. “Two feet. One red sock. Socks come in pairs. Here’s another red sock just like the one you’re wearing. Hmmm.”

“But what’s the point?!” screamed Alfonso. “You’re annoying me!”

“And would you like to know where we found this other unfamiliar red sock that you’ve never seen before?” asked the boy.

“No, I wouldn’t,” growled Alfonso.

“Well, we found it in the President’s bedroom under the President’s bed. AND THE PRESIDENT IS MISSING.”

“Too bad, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Alfonso. “Let me know when you find him.”

“Have you ever been in the President’s bedroom?” asked General Rickrack.

“No, never. What would I do in there?” said Alfonso. “Now please leave me alone. I’ve got to get back to work. I haven’t got all day.”

“Say,” said the boy with orange hair. “What’s that little shed over there by the fence?”

“What shed?” growled Alfonso the gardener.

“That one right there,” said the boy.

“It’s the gardener’s tool shed,” said General Rickrack.

The three Secret Service agents whispered in each other’s ears, “Pssst, pssst, pssst.”

“Yeah, it’s my tool shed,” growled Alfonso. “Now can I please get back to work?”

“And is that your Fokker Tri-plane parked behind the shed?” asked the boy.

“No,” said Alfonso, “of course not.”

They went into the shed to investigate. There was nothing unusual, just a wheelbarrow, rakes, shovels, a hose and watering can, and, in the corner, a big lumpy canvas sack which seemed to be moving.

“What’s in the sack?” asked the boy.

“Turnip seeds,” said Alfonso.

“Then why is it moving?” asked the boy.

“Mice,” said Alfonso.

“Then you won’t mind if we open it and take a look.”

Alfonso edged towards the door as General Rickrack and the three agents moved towards the sack. They untied it and opened it and gasped, “Mr. President!!”

General Rickrack pointed to Alfonso, “Halt! Arrest that man!”

But Alfonso dashed out the door, dove into the Fokker and taxied off across the lawn. Alfonso’s long black hair was streaming in the wind when suddenly the hair blew off the top of his head. It was a wig! He was completely bald!

“It’s Quigley!” shouted Gerry.

“Follow me!” shouted General Rickrack. They jumped into Air Force 3, the President’s helicopter, which was parked on the helipad at the side of the White House, and flew down 17th St. after Quigley.

The Fokker had disappeared from sight but couldn’t have gone far. They stopped in a toy store and asked if anybody had seen a tri-plane fly by and learned that someone matching Quigley’s description had just come in and purchased a water cannon in a big hurry. They armed themselves with water pistols and water guns, filled them with water, and jumped back in the chopper.

They flew south over the Washington Monument but when they reached the tidal basin at the bottom of 17th Street across from the Jefferson Memorial, a blast of water hit the helicopter and forced them to land.

The boy jumped from the chopper with a water pistol in each hand. Quigley, hiding behind a tree, leveled the water canon at the boy and pulled the trigger. It looked like the end, but only a puff of air came out and a little trickle dripped out the nozzle. Quigley was out of water.

The boy pumped both triggers and sprayed Quigley in a double stream. Gerry the Groundhog, General Rickrack, and the three Secret Service agents flanked Quigley from both sides and they all hosed him down until he was completely drenched.

“Stop! Stop!” cried Quigley. “I’m soaked already!”

“You give up?” asked the boy with orange hair.

“Okay,” said Quigley. “I can’t take any more. I give up.”

They sat down with Quigley under the tree. In the cool shade on the bank of the tidal basin off the Potomac River, the boy leaned back against the tree trunk and gazed up through the branches at the clear blue cloudless sky. His eyes widened. He stood and reached up into the branches and plucked a bright red juicy cherry.