Nikolas and Company: The Merman and The Moon Forgotten Read Online Free PDF

large
bird called turkey for Thanksgiving. If boys won’t fancy her for
her looks, they’ll fancy her for her key lime pie.
    “The English accent just makes it more
insulting,” Caroline said.
    Swish . . .
swish.
    Entering Brandy
Wendell.
    “It’s so making my hair limp.” Brandy
held a large, metal platter covered in aluminum foil. “Caroline?
Where do you want your murdered cow?”
    Brandy couldn’t be more
different. Being the youngest sister, she hates to cook. Brandy
claims that it keeps her from her number one love: looking cute. In
defense, Brandy also explains that cooking keeps her from talking
with her friends, all 372 of them to be exact. Some people collect
stamps; Brandy collects people.
    “Caroline,” said Brandy. “Your
roast?”
    “You made a roast?” Tim said to
Caroline.
    “Yes, I did, Tim. It’s a recipe I’ve
wanted to try out for a while.” Caroline shoved a non-functioning
radio aside and set down the mashed potatoes.
    “For an after party?” said
Tim.
    Brandy called out, “Caroline? The
murdered cow?”
    “Next to the other thingamajig.”
Caroline took off her glasses to wipe them.
    “Microwave,” Nick offered.
    “Oh. Is that a microwave? Neat,” Caroline
said.
    “Oh. My. Gawsh. The smell of animal
death—it’s so in my sweater.” Brandy plopped the roast down next to
the microwave and quickly unbuttoned her cardigan. “OK. Angora. Six
thousand dollars off the rack—not that I actually paid for
it.”
    “Where you get your clothes is a
mystery,” said Caroline. “We live in a refugee camp, you
know.”
    “Daniel,” said Brandy.
    “Where does he get your
clothes?”
    “He has his sources,” said Brandy.
“It’s all I can get out of that boy. Anyway, it’s not like I ask
where you get all your roast beef and pies.”
    “Pies!” Caroline put her hand to
forehead. “Oh, dear. I forgot the pies.”
    “OK. Nick,” Brandy said. “I expect a
full on promotion to your little inner sanctum here. Spent all
morning getting the word out for your show. Most of them said ‘no’
to the show ‘cause of the last incident, but ‘yes’ to the after
party.”
    “What will I do? I need those pies,”
Caroline said.
    Brandy rolled her eyes. “Call Haley and
tell her to bring them already.”
    “Demonstration,” Nick said.
    “What?” Brandy said.
    “It’s not a show,” Nick corrected
Brandy, pointing to the machine. “This is a scientific
demonstration.”
    “Yeah,” Brandy said. “When towers of
smoke and flame are involved, it’s a show.”
    Clop . . . clop . . .
clop, came the sounds of a wooden stick
hitting concrete.
    Swish . . . swish.
    And now, all the way from
the refugee camp, half-brothers Daniel and Xanthus
Kobayashi, the computer introduction system
continued its exposé.
    Two boys stood in the doorway. One had
Japanese features and leaned on a cane; the other was dumpy and
looked to be half-African, half-Japanese.
    Nineteen-year-old Daniel
Kobayashi is not much taller than a hobbit and intelligent beyond
his years. By the early age of ten, he had made the front cover of
Japan’s holopaper, ‘I’. They named him “Child Genius of The Year”
for discovering the very first non-metal magnet. That was until the
genetic plague killed his mother, crippled him, and left him
utterly hairless, which makes him more goblin than hobbit, I
suppose.
    Xanthus, Daniel’s
half-brother, is thirteen years old. Xanthus explains to everyone
that he received his name from a visit in the night by an African
tribal leader indigenous to the Sub-Saharan, known for his powerful
magic and warrior-like skills. This would be true if by “African
tribal leader” he means ‘I live in my own fantasy world because I
can’t cope with life at the refugee camp.’ Xanthus’ pitiful faux
hawk, his earring of a silver woman, and mismatched black outfit
make for an awkward compilation.
    Xanthus found a lone
barstool, flipped down a plastic band that had been resting on