Mr. Fahrenheit by T. Michael Martin Read Free Book Online

characteristic confidence gone. “ Oh, no! ” he cried suddenly.
    â€œWhat?” Benji said.
    â€œWe don’t have my keys, y’guys!”
    â€œDo you have a flashlight in your car?” Benji asked Ellie, then answered himself, “Wait, never mind, I’ve got something.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a fistful of flash paper. The combustible sheets might have failed to wow the audience tonight, but flash paper was phosphorescent, and could burn underwater.
    Benji grabbed a softball-size chunk of ice, wrapping the flash papers around it and twisting them tightly on both ends. He pulled out his magic act “FireFingers”: striking pads affixed to the fingertips of his gloves. He had to snap three times before he got the spark, then he dropped the ignited papers into the lake like a message in a bottle.
    A few sheets separated from the center and spread as they sank, making a glowing jellyfish canopy. The descent took eternities. The light began to dim, and still Benji saw nothing, and he felt an overpowering fear: He hadn’t just done what he thought he’d done, all of this was imaginary . . .
    . . . and something glimmered through the deep dark like chromium.
    The light went out.
    â€œWho do you call about something like this?” he heard CR say.
    Call?
    â€œThe fire department! Yeah, that’s right!” CR said. Ellielaughed weakly, and CR replied, in an embarrassed and defensive tone, “Well, I don’t know! It was sure-shit on fire!”
    And Benji, staring into his reflection and the velvet abyss beyond, said to himself and to Ellie:
    â€œI think we should keep it a secret.”

3
    B enji stared into the crater, waiting for her to say anything.
    He lifted his gaze.
    Ellie looked straight back into him.
    Her eyes stayed locked with his, the bright green irises electrified. Despite the ice, a pleasant warmth rippled through Benji’s body.
    â€œHow about airplane people?” CR called.
    Reluctantly, Benji looked back to the shore. “What?”
    â€œThe dudes that make planes go. The FBA, that’s their name! What’s their number?” CR prospected his phone from one of his pockets.
    â€œUh-oh,” Ellie said.
    Benji shot to his feet. “CR, wait a second! I don’t think we should call anyone yet!” He helped Ellie up, then speed-walked toward the shore.
    Zeeko was coming down the embankment now. Just as Benji reached the shore, Zeeko pointed past him, shouting, “Look!”
    Benji flinched, spinning back toward the ice. But he didn’t see anything. “Look at what, Zeeko?”
    â€œThe—under the ice, there was light for a second. Blue light.”
    There wasn’t, though. Zeeko is so freaked out that he literally threw up. And he doesn’t have his glasses. Maybe he didn’t see anything?
    â€œWell, I thought there was,” Zeeko said. “Benji, what was that thing? Ellie, please, give me my glasses.”
    They were still tangled in Ellie’s hair. She removed them and handed them to Zeeko, who thrust them onto his face.
    â€œOr nine-one-one,” CR said. “Hey, we can just call the sheriff!”
    Benji snatched the phone from CR’s hand. “Dude, wait . Did you hear what I said?”
    â€œYou want to keep it a secret,” CR said. “That’s—actually, that’s a good idea. The best idea! Okay? We never talk about it or come back here again. We forget it.”
    â€œForget it? That’s not what I meant.” Benji shook his head incredulously. “CR, do you know what that was?”
    â€œYes.” CR fixed him with a serious stare. “Bro, you just shot the shit out of a government drone.”
    Looking relieved, Zeeko snapped and pointed at CR: Bingo!
    â€œA drone?” Benji not-quite-guffawed. “Why would there be a drone here? Is Bedford Falls the new target in the War on Terror?”
    â€œThat’s