Books > The Sky Inside >

Excerpts

PROLOGUE

The big television cameras of the You've Been Caught Napping game show prowled in the darkness at the edge of the set, their lenses focused on the old man's face. Mindlessly thorough, they relayed to viewers his iron gray hair, his thick bifocals, and the trickles of sweat that wandered down tracks of wrinkles into his eyes. A thoughtful viewer might have wondered why he didn't wipe the sweat away. But behind the silver podium that displayed a very high score, his hands lay trapped in a pair of strong plastic manacles. That was something those cameras couldn't see.

"You're right again, Dr. Church! You are simply amazing." The handsome host beamed at the old man, white teeth flashing in a tanned face. "That completes the round. What will our contestant do next? Will he take home his winnings?" The audience groaned. "Or will he try to double them with our special bonus quiz?"

The audience shouted and cheered. This was odd because no audience was there. Beyond the banks of garish lights, the cavernous studio was empty.

"It's a big decision," said the host. "He needs to think it over, and that gives us time for a commercial break. We'll be back with Dr. Rudolph Church right after this!"

The lively notes of a familiar advertising tune cut through the studio, and the wildly cheering audience hushed with the flick of a switch. The old man rested his head on the podium in front of him, the one that hid their nasty secret. After all, game shows were rollicking good fun, entertainment for the whole family. Imagine how viewers would feel if they saw the hypodermic needle inserted in his arm.

Meanwhile, in a comfortable living room, two of those viewers were fighting over the remote. The bigger one snatched it away and triumphantly changed the channel, and a buzzing squadron of red motor scooters charged across the screen.

"Martin, you jerk!" said the girl, flopping back onto the sofa. "You always watch these silly races! I wanted to see the rest of that."

"Mom says no game shows," Martin said smugly. "Plus, that one's stupid. 'Who wrote this?' 'What's the term for that?' It's as bad as school."

"I like it," Cassie said. "It teaches me things. And this contestantis amazing. He hasn't been sent off in nine straight shows."

"Big hairy deal," Martin said, leaning forward to grab her bag of chips. "Who cares what happens to one old man?"

Copyright © 2008 by Clare B. Dunkle