of white light shone down on the coins.
“I thought the laser would be red,” Dandy said.
“Shhhh,” Malcolm snapped, giving Dandy a warning look. “It’s hot. Like a white flame.”
The boys stared at the money. Dandy sniffled. “If it’s that hot, wouldn’t it burn a hole in the counter?”
Malcolm didn’t answer, even though it was a good question. “Time’s up,” he finally said, clicking off the fusion wand.
Both boys inched slowly toward the table.
“Shouldn’t there be smoke?” Dandy asked.
“Gosh, Dandy, don’t you know anything? Lasers heat differently than fire.”
They leaned forward, their noses just inches from the coins.
“Shouldn’t it smell hot?” Dandy asked.
Malcolm reached his pointer finger toward the money. Slowly . . . slowly . . . slowly . . .
Dandy wiggled impatiently. “Well? Did the change . . . uh . . . change?”
Malcolm’s finger touched the stack, and it came toppling down. He picked up one of the pennies. It wasn’t even warm.
“What went wrong?” he muttered.
“Did you read the instructions?” Dandy asked.
“I couldn’t. They were in Japanese.”
Dandy picked up the fusion wand and turned it over. In tiny letters near the handle he read: Mr. Laser Fun Flashlight—Galactic Toy Co.
“I think I found the problem,” he said, handing the flashlight to Malcolm.
Malcolm plunked himself down on an old beanbag chair. “Ripped off again! What do I do now?”
Dandy picked his nose and suggested, “Superglue?”
Malcolm dragged himself to breakfast the next morning. His pajamas were drooping and his hair was spiked from bed head.
His sister, Cocoa, and Grandma Eunice were already at the table. Cocoa was wearing blinding neon lip gloss that made her mouth look radioactive. Grandma Eunice just sat and ate her bran flakes and prunes. She was actually Malcolm’s great-grandmother, and he thought she was probably older than electricity.
“Hey, coconut,” Malcolm grunted.
“Mom! Malcolm called me coconut again!” Cocoa pouted.
Mom flipped a pancake. “Malcolm, don’t call your sister ‘coconut.’”
“It’s your fault, Mom,” Cocoa whined. “If you’d given me a real name, I wouldn’t have this problem.”
“But sweetie,” Mom said. “Your grandmother’s name was Cocoa. Aren’t you honored to be named after your grandmother?”
Malcolm gave Cocoa a wicked grin. “She could have named you after a different grandmother. How about we start calling you Eunice?”
Grandma Eunice looked up from her cereal and smiled. “That’s nice.”
Cocoa shot Malcolm a piercing look. “How about we call you nerd? Or do you prefer geek?”
Mom set the pancakes on the table. “I prefer quiet.” She turned to Grandma Eunice, patted her shoulder, and adjusted the cereal spoon in her hand. “Can I get you something else to eat?” she asked.
Malcolm looked away. He hated the way everyone babied Grandma Eunice. They treated her more like a pet than a family member.
Grandma Eunice shook her head no, milk dripping down her chin.
Malcolm scarfed down his food and retreated to his lab to fiddle with his scientific gadgets. At midmorning he looked up through the basement window and saw feet coming up the walk. He’d know those shoes anywhere. Mail Carrier Nancy.
Malcolm dashed to the mailbox and grabbed the stack of mail. He dropped the bills, flyers, and samples on the kitchen counter. Then, he ran back to his lab, holding his magazines.
This was the time of month Malcolm loved best. His magazines always arrived on the same day, just like Christmas presents. He sorted through them.
Junior Scientist. Weird Worlds. Beyond Belief. They were all here. But he rarely read the articles. Instead he’d jump to the ads in the back. That’s where he found the cool inventions. He especially liked the ones that advertised as, Originally developed in a secret government lab.
Malcolm thumbed through the back of Beyond Belief. Most of the ads were the same, month after month.
But a new ad caught Malcolm’s eye. He practically drooled when he read it. Then, he circled it so he wouldn’t forget it later.
Malcolm, who had a drawer full of batteries, leapt in the air. “Yes!”
His hands trembled as he stuffed the money into an envelope and licked it shut. He stuck on a stamp and ran to the corner mailbox. And then the waiting began.
THE ECTO-HANDHELD-AUTOMATIC-HEAT-SENSITIVE-LASER-ENHANCED SPECTER DETECTOR
Malcolm didn’t do the things that other kids did during the summer. While they were swimming and playing ball, Malcolm watched science programs and monster movies and conducted experiments in his lab. But this summer, he mostly waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.
Every day he’d sit on the front stoop, watching for Mail Carrier Nancy to approach. And every day she’d say the same thing.
“Sorry, Malcolm. No packages.” He hated those words.
Then finally, after two long weeks (which felt like two eternities to Malcolm), Mail Carrier Nancy walked up, wearing a grin bigger than her face.
“I believe this is for you,” she said, handing Malcolm a heavily taped box.
Malcolm wanted to jump up and hug her, but he didn’t think
