The Interdimensional Fish Sticks Read online

  It was Vice Principal Meehan. And he was dressed as a pirate. Red coat with gold buttons, black hat, pantaloons, eye patch, even a parrot on his shoulder. A real live parrot!

  “Looking good, Bryce,” the parrot parroted.

  “Whoa,” Bryce said. “When did you put on a costume?”

  Meehan’s face twisted up in confusion. “What costume? This is how I always dress.”

  “How I always dress,” the parrot parroted.

  Bryce knew this wasn’t true. He also knew that a few minutes ago, Meehan was wearing completely different clothes and was mad at Bryce for wearing a costume.

  In other words, the fish sticks had . . . changed Vice Principal Meehan?

  Yes. But Vice Principal Meehan wasn’t the only one who had changed.

  Chapter Six

  HALLOWHAT?

  Bryce hurried to music class without paying much attention to his surroundings. When he got there, he discovered that everyone was wearing costumes. Notorious mischief-maker Riley Zimmerman was dressed as a mad scientist, and that certainly fit with her wild hair. The klutzy Carson Cooper was dressed as a vampire, which was clever because it made all the stains on his shirt look like blood stains. And, of course, the magnificent Keisha James was dressed as an astronaut with Olympic medals around her neck. Because why settle on dedicating your life to space exploration when you can dominate the world of international gymnastics as well?

  Even the music teacher wore a costume. Mr. Gregson was dressed as a beagle, which made sense because he was in a local band called the Screamin’ Beagles. In case you already forgot, the Screamin’ Beagles were Bryce’s favorite band. (But you wouldn’t forget that because your memory is flawless.)

  It was finally clear that eating the fish sticks had changed things so that Halloween costumes were now okay to wear at Hopewell Elementary.

  In other words: Bryce’s problem was solved.

  In other word: Hooray!

  “Happy Halloween, my fine costumed friends,” Bryce said cheerfully to the class.

  And immediately the class fell silent.

  “What did you say?” Mr. Gregson growled. Or did he scream? It was somewhere between the two, and entirely appropriate for a Screamin’ Beagle.

  “Happy Halloween!” Bryce hollered, so that everyone could hear him.

  They did hear him, and they didn’t like it. Everyone’s faces changed. They suddenly looked . . . mean.

  One of Keisha’s hands shot up and she pointed at Bryce. “He said the forbidden words. The forbidden words!”

  “Children,” Mr. Gregson growled, and this was definitely a growl. “Eat him alive!”

  All at once, his classmates started chanting, “Forbidden! Forbidden! Forbidden!”

  All at once, they raised their hands and curled their fingers like claws.

  And all at once, they started moving toward Bryce, a mob of costumed and angry fourth-graders.

  Instinct took over. Bryce rushed for the exit.

  For a moment, his Skittle costume was caught in the doorway, and he thought he might not make it to the hall. But it popped through a second before Keisha’s hand lunged at him.

  He had escaped.

  Chapter Seven

  BACK TO THE DUNGEON

  “Yikes, yikes, yikedy-yikes!” Bryce cried as he waddle-sprinted down the hall, careful to keep the plate of fish sticks balanced inside his green cardboard sphere.

  The only response he heard was the chant of “Forbidden! Forbidden! Forbidden!”

  As the mob closed in, Bryce started noticing differences in the school.

  In place of janitor closets, there were vending machines, and the trash cans overflowed with candy wrappers.

  In the classrooms, there were bowls of chocolate on each desk, and the whiteboards were projecting pictures of lollipops.

  A poster on the wall read: DID YOU EAT YOUR GUMMY BEARS TODAY?

  Everyone was now obsessed with candy. Though, apparently, they also hated the words “Happy Halloween.”

  Because as the kids from music class chased Bryce, they were joined by other kids, streaming out of their classrooms with chocolate on their lips, chanting, “Forbidden! Forbidden! Forbidden!”

  Sweat dripped down Bryce's face, washing away the green paint. The only place he thought it was safe to go was the Dungeon. So that’s where he went. Through the halls, down the stairs, squeezing between the doorframe into the—

  Sparkling clean bathroom?

  This was not the Dungeon Bryce was in a few minutes before.

  There was no stink, no rust, no dark, no dust. No squeaks or creaks. No graffiti on the wall that said: Flush The Toilet + U Will B Sucked into the Burrito Dimension!

  Huh. The Burrito Dimension?

  Questions bounced around Bryce’s brain as he examined the transformed room.

  There’s a dimension of burritos and people can go there?

  Is that how dimensions work?

  What about other worlds? Or other universes?

  Would that explain what’s happening?

  What if the world hadn’t changed when I ate the fish stick?

  What if eating the fish stick sent me to an entirely different world? An entirely different universe?

  If I eat another fish stick will I end up in the burrito dimension, and have to battle guacamole monsters, or swim across an ocean of refried beans, or wear flour tortillas for underpants instead of—

  Bryce was interrupted mid-thought by kids crashing into the Dungeon after him, and he had no choice but to test his theory.

  He held his nose, stuffed a fish stick in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

  The world went blurry for a moment and then—

  Chapter Eight

  THE MULTIVERSE, INFINITY, AND FISH STICKS

  Before we find out what happened to Bryce, let’s talk about the multiverse for a moment. You know about the multiverse, right?

  Don’t worry if you don’t. At least one version of you does.

  “Version of me?” you might be thinking. “But I’m the only me. I’m unique. It’s not like there are clones of me running around.”

  That’s true, but we’re not talking about clones. We’re talking about multiple universes. We’ll explain.

  You live on Earth. Or one would assume you do. There’s a small possibility that this book has been launched into outer space and it landed on a faraway planet and you’re an alien of such great intelligence that you understand how to read Earth languages. In that case, you probably already know about multiple universes, so feel free to skip the rest of this chapter.

  As for the rest of you—earthlings, in other words—you live on Earth. Earth revolves around the sun. The sun is the star at the center of our solar system. Our solar system contains planets like Mars, Jupiter, and, depending on who you ask, Pluto. The hundreds of billions of stars (and their solar systems) that are closest to our sun make up our galaxy, the Milky Way. Beyond the Milky Way, there are hundreds of billions of galaxies—some bigger, some smaller—that make up our universe.

  In other words, our universe is HUMONGOUS!

  But what lies beyond our universe? Is there anything more?

  Well, some people believe in the multiverse. It’s a theory that proposes that our universe is just one universe out of multiple universes. Out of infinite universes, in fact!

  Infinite universes are universes that go on . . . forever! Which basically means universes of every shape and size and configuration that you can think of. Plus never-ending other universes you can’t even begin to fathom.

  There could be a universe that’s made entirely of chicken noodle soup. Because sure, why not?

  Or one where a single wombat controls everything and we all worship that wombat. Praise the almighty wombat and his magical cubical poop!

  Or one where the only difference between it and our universe is that everyone in this other universe thinks that waterslides are boring. That’s it. That’s the only difference. Waterslides = booooring. Otherwise, identical.

  That’s the thing about infinity. EVERYTHING is possible.

  Infinity is a hard concept to fit into your brain, isn’t it?

  Think of the biggest number you can. Add one to that. Bigger number, right?

  Now double that number. Even bigger, huh?

  Now multiply the new number by itself. Now multiply that new number by itself. Again. Again! AGAIN!

  KEEP MULTIPLYING NEW NUMBERS BY THEMSELVES FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

  Are you close to infinity now?

  Nope. You are no closer to infinity now than when you started. Yikes. What a way to waste a life.

  Here’s the thing: you will never be close to infinity. Ever.

  Infinity is the worst, isn’t it?

  Or maybe it’s the best.

  It depends on your point of view.

  Because you see, Bryce’s fish sticks were a bridge to infinite universes. Take a bite, zip over to another reality. Locker 37 was wise enough not to send Bryce to any universes where he couldn’t survive. After all, drowning in chicken noodle soup is no fate that any fourth-grader should endure. So there were infinite inhospitable universes that Bryce couldn’t travel to. And yet there were also infinite universes that he could visit.

  Yes, some infinities are bigger than other infinities and some infinities can fit inside other infinities and it’s all very . . . confusing.

  Don’t worry about it, though.

  Worry about this:

  Chapter Nine

  THE KIDOCRACY

  The Dungeon changed back to the version Bryce was comfortable with: the uncomfortable version. Stinky, rusty, dark, dusty, etc.

  The mob was gone. Bryce prayed that everything else was back to normal again, too.

  He checked the mirror. His cracked reflection showed him that he was still wearing his green Skittle costume. But someone else was in the Dungeon with him.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. Dodd,” Mr. Rao, the art teacher, said as he stepped out of a stall. In his hand, he had a Sharpie. He looked exceedingly nervous, perhaps as nervous as Bryce was.

  “Greetings, Mr. Rao,” Bryce said.

  If everything was back to normal, then Bryce knew that Mr. Rao would send him straight back to Vice Principal Meehan’s office. But he didn’t. Instead, Mr. Rao hid the Sharpie behind his back. And in a whimpering voice he asked, “Am I . . . am I . . . in a pickle?”

  Bryce didn’t quite understand what Mr. Rao meant by “in a pickle,” so he responded by saying, “It depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  “On if you’re a cucumber. You’re not a cucumber, are you, Mr. Rao? Or an onion? Or an egg? A fish of some sort?”

  Mr. Rao, who had been staring bewilderedly at Bryce as he listed off all the different things that could be pickled, finally said, “What I mean is, am I in trouble? I don’t have a bathroom pass. And I’m in the Dungeon.” Then he clasped his hands together around the Sharpie like he was praying. “Please please please don’t send me to Vice Principal Barnes.”

  Vice Principal Barnes? The only person that Bryce knew with the last name Barnes was—

  “You don’t mean Hunter, do you?” Bryce asked.

  A terrified look fell over Mr. Rao’s face, then he dropped the Sharpie, shrieked, and ran out of the Dungeon. Which was odd, to say the least.

  You know what was also odd? The fresh graffiti Bryce found in the toilet stall Mr. Rao was just using. It read: adults rule, kids drool.

  Did Mr. Rao write that? It didn’t seem like something he’d write, and yet there it was, in fresh Sharpie ink.

  It ultimately didn’t matter. Bryce wasn’t in trouble. That was the most important thing.

  And when he stepped out of the Dungeon, everything else appeared normal. That was also true when he walked up the stairs and into the halls. Same doors, same posters, same janitor’s closet that Bryce knew so well. But when he glanced into the classrooms, he could hardly believe his eyes.

  Children were the teachers and adults were the students.

  In the art room, the usually timid Carson was standing in front of Mr. Gregson and other teachers. The teachers were sitting on stools with canvases, paints, and mounds of clay in front of them. Carson was confidently telling them to create self-portraits. “No mirrors, no phones, use your mind’s eye, people. Your mind’s eye.”

  In the gym, the rule-breaker Riley had a whistle around her neck, and she was calling the shots. “Holy rigatoni, everyone, it’s time for CIRCUS TENT!” she yelled as Bryce’s regular gym teacher, Mr. Trundle, and a bunch of other adults scrambled underneath a puffed-up, rainbow-colored parachute.

  In Bryce’s homeroom, the brilliant Keisha James was standing at the whiteboard, where a math formula was projected. E=mc2 it read. “Time is relative,” Keisha said.

  Mrs. Shen, Bryce’s homeroom teacher, was among the teachers sitting at the desks in the classroom. She raised her hand and asked, “Does that mean that time is my . . . cousin?”

  Keisha shook her head in sympathy. “It’s relative, as in the theory of relativity. You’re not related to it.”

  “So, like . . . a stepsister?” Mrs. Shen asked.

  Bryce didn’t want to watch any more of this. This was the first time he had ever felt smarter than Mrs. Shen. He couldn’t handle that feeling.

  And he couldn’t handle the sound of the next voice he heard.

  “Hey, Bryce, nice costume. What are you, a booger?”

  He turned around to see who it was. A boy wearing a suit stood in the hall.

  “Whoa,” Bryce said. “You’re . . . you’re . . . Hunter.”

  Hunter grinned a wicked grin and said, “The one and only. Meet me in my office. I want to talk to you.”

  Chapter Ten

  VICE PRINCIPAL BARNES

  Hunter Barnes led Bryce into Vice Principal Meehan’s office. Actually, that’s not correct. It was Hunter Barnes’s office in this particular universe, and he was known as Vice Principal Barnes. No joke. It even said so on the door.

  Everything inside looked like Vice Principal Meehan’s office, but Hunter sat behind the desk. And Bryce stood in front of it, just like he had earlier that morning.

  “Why are you dressed so weird, Bryce?” Hunter asked. “Are you teaching your students about how to embarrass themselves?”

  Bryce didn’t see anything embarrassing about his costume. Maybe it was a bit weird, but it was also very nice. Weird, but nice—exactly like Bryce was. Not that he would say that to Hunter. Weird things and nice things were bullies’ favorite targets.

  So Bryce simply said, “I’m a Skittle.”

  “Look more like a booger,” Hunter said. “But your teaching methods have always been . . . different.”

  “So, I’m a teacher, huh?” Bryce asked. “Because in this universe, everything is wacky backward, right? Like, kids are teachers and teachers are students?”

  “In this universe?” Hunter said. “How many other universes are there, ya weirdo?”

  “From what I’ve experienced, it’s somewhere between three and infinity,” Bryce said.

  Hunter sighed. “I should laser you for being such a weirdo. But I’m not allowed. And even if I was, I’d have to deal with Keisha James complaining to the school board about it.”

  “Really? She’d do that for me?” Bryce asked, because he always assumed Keisha only paid attention to him when she was embarrassed for him. Knowing that she would stick up for him literally warmed his heart.

  Bryce wanted to know more, but Hunter didn’t elaborate. Instead, he sniffed the air and asked, “Is that . . . fish sticks?”

  “Ummm . . .”

  Hunter sniffed some more. “It is. It is fish sticks. Hand ’em over, Bryce!”

  “But Riley is the only person I know who likes fish sticks,” Bryce said.

  Hunter laughed. “Nice try, booger boy. I need those fish sticks.”

  Bryce looked down into his costume. The fish sticks were still on the plate and still steaming hot. “I’m not sure you want these ones. They’re . . . powerful.”

  “Of course, fish sticks are powerful,” Hunter said. “What else do you think charges up my laser nose?”

  “Your laser nose?” Bryce said.

  Hunter smiled and said, “You want to see it again, don’t you?”

  “Um, sure,” Bryce said, but he clearly wasn’t sure.

  “I only have one charge left, so do you want me to laser a student or that plant over there?” Hunter asked as he pointed to a potted fern in the corner.

  Laser a student? That didn’t sound particularly nice. So Bryce said, “I’m gonna go with the plant.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun, but coming right up,” Hunter said, as he pointed the tip of his nose at the plant. Then he pinched both his earlobes and pulled them down.

  A blue laser shot from Hunter’s nose—zaaaap!—and hit the fern dead center. The fern burst into flame. And Hunter burst into laughter.

  “Go get a student,” he said between cackles. “I haven’t lasered a student in forever. But I think it’s time. Maybe that Greg Gregson guy. But I’ll need to recharge by eating those fish sticks first.”

  Bryce didn’t blink. What kind of universe was this? It was a universe where he didn’t get in trouble for wearing his costume and where kids had all the power. But it was also one where Hunter was in charge. And where Hunter had a laser nose.

  Which meant it was an awful universe.

  So Bryce reached down into his costume and pulled out the fish sticks.

  “Thanks, booger boy,” Hunter said as he grabbed for them.