Hnh . . . what? What's going—THE FIRE! We've got to restart it right away!
I know, I know! Where are those matches?
I can't see anything! Where's the flashlight?
I think I left it in the car.
Great! Where's the car? It's back that way, isn't it?
No, I think it's the other way!
I know where it is! This way!
Dexter felt something like a low-level electric charge in the small of his back, prompting him to stand up and move forward. He resisted, though, halting in his tracks before he could get more than a few feet from the fire. And then he remembered something.
My watch has a backlight! I could use that to look for the matches!
All right, Dex! See, you're so smart!
The glow from the backlight was faint, but in the dark woods, it was enough to see a few feet in front of him. Dexter was able to find the matches with no problem. He brought over more wood, too, and a few wadded-up newspaper pages to use as kindling.
There. See? You can survive out here!
The night's not over yet, Freak. I've still got . . . He checked his watch in the dark. Two and a half hours before I have to go wake up Dad.
Plenty of time for us to sit and talk! I mean, if you want to talk. Or, you could just go back to your music . . .
I can do both. I can multi-task.
And they call ME the superhero! You're super and you just don't know it, Dexxie!
I am?
Of course you are! I may have super strength and speed like lightning, but you . . . you've got the brains! What a team we make, huh?
Yeah, I guess so.
Dexter put another CD in his player and sat back. You know, actually, you're right. It is kinda pretty out here.
Wait till sunrise! Oh, I hope we're up to see it!
We will be. Dad wants to take us fishing at five a. m.
You're kidding, right?
That's what he said.
Five a. m. should be illegal! It's way, way, WAY too early for anyone to be up!
I know! But he insists that that's the time we need to hit the lake, so that's what time I need to be up.
But you haven't been to bed yet! Hey, how come Skunk-an doesn't have to take a watch? Just you and your dad!
I don't know. At least I get to get some sleep. I mean, five hours is better than nothing, right?
Four and a half.
What?
Your watch started at eight-thirty. You're due to wake your dad in two hours and eight minutes, at twelve-thirty. If you get up at five, that's only four and a half hours sleep.
Really? Guess you're right. Oh, well, it's still better than nothing.
You go right to sleep, now. I'll sing you a lullaby if you want.
No, thanks, Freak. I think I'll be fine.
You sure? I know some great ones!
No, that's okay. I think I can get to sleep on my own. That is, if the creepy howling thing is really gone.
You had to go and mention the creepy howling thing! Darn, darn, darn!
One thing that never failed to amuse Dexter was Freakazoid's complete inability to swear. Even simple words like "damn" and "hell" were seemingly beyond his language capabilities. It was as if he had a filter, set to "Kindergarten" level, that prevented him from saying anything worse than "doody" or "nutbunnies." It was really funny when he'd try to swear and come up with only nonsense syllables.
Don't worry, I'm sure it's long gone by now. We'll be fine. He poked the fire with his marshmallow stick and stretched his legs out in front of him.
Don't go to sleep yet, Dex.
I'm not.
You're awfully close to it.
No, I'm not! Okay, maybe I'm a little sleepy, but I'm not falling asleep!
Good! Hey, I like this one! What's it called again?
Barenaked Ladies.
But . . . those are men singing.
I know. It's just a clever name.
Why would they call themselves ladies if they're not ladies?
I don't know, Freak.
I can go look it up for you, if you want.
Don't strain yourself.
Scuse me for a minute while I go find a search engine!
Or you could just use the library.
We have one of those?
You know those stairs you found at the back of the Freakazone?
Yeah?
Well, where did you think they went?
There was a stunned pause. See, Dex? You do the thinking for both of us! I'll take the stairs, then. To the library!
Have fun.
I'll be back soon!
I know you will. I'll be here.
To try and keep himself awake, Dexter turned the volume up, and hummed along. He didn't sing, for fear of waking the sleepers in the tent (or of attracting something that wasn't sleeping), but humming was good enough.
He wondered what time it was, but didn't dare check his watch. If he did, he might find that not nearly as much time as he thought had passed, and then he'd be depressed.
I'm baaaaaaack!
Wow, Freak, you were hardly gone any time at all! Did you find what you were looking for?
Yep! There was the sound of flipping pages. Did you know there's a whole encyclopedia down there?
Really?
Yeah! And according to this, they got their name from a Victoria's Secret catalog. Someone's mother made a comment about "all those bare naked ladies", and I guess they thought it would be a cool band name.
Now, I heard they came up with it to get attention on their posters. I thought they said on the radio that the band put "Barenaked Ladies" on their concert posters to catch people's interest.
Are you saying the encyclopedia is WRONG?
No. I don't know. Maybe they're both right. Maybe no one's right, and they picked the name cause they were drunk at the time. Who cares? It's good music.
Yeah, it is.
You can hear it, in the Freakazone?
Course I can hear it! I don't have to, all the time, but if I want to, it comes in loud and clear! Sometimes I turn the volume down, but I think for this, I'll keep it on. That okay with you?
Like I could tell you what to do?
See, that's your problem, Dex! You're not assertive enough! You need to learn to stand up to people instead of letting them push you around!
I can't do that! They'll get mad at me!
Listen to me. You can't live your life in fear of what other people think of you. Know why?
Dexter sighed. Why?
Cause you can't control other people's thoughts and opinions. You have to accept that some people aren't gonna like you. So what? That's their problem! I know you're a great guy. You know you're a great guy. That's all that matters!
It did make sense, when Dexter thought about it. Thanks, Freak.
Hey, any time, buddy! That's what I 'm here for.
Barenaked Ladies gave way to the Dave Matthews Band, and Dexter relaxed, almost (but not quite) enough to fall asleep. Every time he felt on the verge of dropping off, he felt the mental equivalent of a sharp stick poking him in the small of the back.
Hang in there, Dex! Still twenty-seven minutes and forty-nine seconds to go!
I'm awake! I'm awake!
Sure, now you are.
I can make it! I wonder if Dad will let me use his sleeping bag?
You can ask him. In twenty-six minutes and twelve seconds.
You don't need to do that, you know.
Do what?
Count it off precisely to the second. Just let me know when it's time.
But then what will we talk about?
Whatever you want. Like . . . where were you, before the Pinnacle Chip fused us together?
Everywhere. And nowhere. Sort of. It's hard to explain.
Were you in the Internet?
I was the Internet! In a way.
Really? How?
I told you, it's hard to explain. Can we talk about something else?
I don't know what else to talk about. So . . . why me? There must have been millions of those chips out there. Was it just that I was the first one to stumble on the code, or what?
Huh? I wasn't listening.
Freakazoid! This is important stuff here!
Don't move.
What? He started to get up and look around, but Freakazoid exerted gentle pressure to hold him down.
I said DON'T move! There's something moving in the woods about ten yards that way.
What?
Don't look! You don't want to attract its attention!
But how'm I supposed to know what it is unless I look?
You don't wanna find out the hard way, do you?
Um, no.
Just stay still till it's gone. You put the rest of the food up a tree, right?
Aw, no! He started to get up again, and this time Freakazoid held him down a bit more firmly.
Wait till it's gone, in case it is a bear!
But the food! I can still save—
Save yourself first! You can go into town and get more food. But if anything happens to you . . .
I get the picture. Okay, I'll stay here.
It was agonizing, to have to hold still while something that may or may not have been a bear stalked through the campsite, lured by the smell of the food that Dexter had forgotten to put away properly.
He just hoped it didn't think that he smelled like food.
Finally, when he thought he couldn't take another minute of sitting and doing nothing, he heard the bear moving away, off toward what Dexter thought was the east, and he waited until he could no longer hear the rustlings and cracking branches before getting up and checking the campsite.
The tent was intact, fortunately. The same could not be said for the cooler. It had been overturned and deeply scratched on one side, as the bear rooted inside for the food. But at least it wasn't cracked or broken.
The food, of course, was gone. All of it. The bear had even eaten the plastic hot dog wrappers. Dexter felt guilty for having lost them all their food, but at least everyone was okay.
Better wake your dad up. It's his watch now.
I'll have to tell him about the bear, won't I?
It might not have been a bear. I mean, I didn't actually SEE it. It might have been a raccoon.
I don't care what it was, as long as it doesn't come back.
With that, he stuck his head into the tent. His dad was on the right side, so he leaned down and whispered, "Dad? Dad, wake up."
"Hnh? No, no barbecue sauce on that."
Must be some dream he's having.
Shush! Louder, he said, "Dad! You've gotta get up now! Our food's gone!"
"What?" Dad sat up, and his head met the fabric roof of the tent. "Dexter, what time is it?"
"Twelve forty-one," he reported, reading it off his watch, although Freakazoid could have told him the exact time, down to the second.
"What's this about the food being gone?"
"Something moved through the camp and ate all our food. I . . . kinda forgot to put it up in a tree."
Dad scrambled out of the sleeping bag, nearly bringing the tent down in the process, and crawled out onto open ground. "What was it? Did you see it? Was it just the food, or did it go after our backpacks, too?"
"Just the food. The cooler's pretty much toast, but the other stuff is okay. Whatever it was, I think it was just hungry. It's gone now."
"Was it a bear?"
"I don't know, I didn't see it! I just heard it moving around."
"Well, did it leave tracks?"
"I didn't look!"
"Jumping jetpacks, Dexter, a woodsman's got to keep his wits about him! You stay here; I'll go and have a look around. Here, hold this." He thrust one of the fishing rods into Dexter's hands.
"You want me to lure him away with this?"
"If it comes back, I want you to hit it over the head with that! That'll do till I can find a good stout branch to use instead. Now don't leave the tent till I get back."
Dexter crawled inside, squatting beside his father's sleeping bag. He could hear Duncan's deep, rhythmic breathing, and further away, footsteps as Dad inspected the remains of the cooler and looked for tracks. He wanted to crawl into the sleeping bag and sack out, but he had to wait till Dad came back with news, good or bad.
Maybe it was a wolverine.
It wasn't a wolverine! They don't live in this part of the country!
Wolverines live where they want. They're vicious, you know, with the claws, and the teeth, and—
Freak! Not. Helping!
Whaaaaat?
Fortunately, at that moment, Dad came back. "Well, it wasn't a bear. The tracks are too small. Probably a raccoon."
Or a wolverine!
It wasn't a wolverine!
How do you know?
Fine, I'll ask! "Could it maybe have been . . . a wolverine?"
Dad chuckled. "Don't be silly, Dex! You know they don't live in this part of the country!"
Told you.
Aw, nutbunnies!
"You can go ahead and sleep now," Dad was saying. "I'll wake you at five to go fishing. We'll need all we can catch, to feed us through the weekend."
"I thought maybe we'd go back to town and pick up some more food."
"What's the point of roughing it if we keep running out to the store? We might as well be in a hotel!"
"A hotel sounds nice right now."
"You just get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
"Sure. Night, Dad."
"Good night, son."
With that, Dexter climbed into the sleeping bag, lay back, and closed his eyes.
And opened them in alarm a second later as a strange noise sounded, not far away.
Would you relax? It's just an owl!
Oh. Okay.
You want that lullaby now?
No, Dexter said, and then reconsidered. Clearly Freakazoid needed something to do while Dexter was sleeping (or not sleeping, as the case may be). It wasn't as if anyone else would hear him, and unlike the CD player, his batteries would never run down. Well . . . okay. Sing to me.
Okay then!
It was amazing, the songs that Freakazoid knew. He must have gotten them off the Internet, because there was no way that they were stored in Dexter's brain, even in the dark corners where neither of them dared to go. Most of them were sappy love songs from the Seventies, before Dexter was even born. There were a few power ballads from the Eighties as well.
By the time Freakazoid worked his way up to the current decade, Dexter was asleep.