“I knew she left last night. She returned in the small hours of the morning. We had an argument about her leaving. She made it clear that if I would not grant permission, she would do whatever she wanted. I made it clear that such behavior was unacceptable. She ran off again afterward. She hasn’t come home. I’ve been looking for her for hours.”
“I haven’t seen Lindy today,” Pigeon said honestly. “She was pretty worked up when she came to visit me. She probably just needs to blow off some steam.”
Mr. Stott rubbed his beard. “I’m worried about her. And a little concerned about the rest of us. As much as I have grown to care for Lindy, we must not forget who she used to be.”
“Right.”
“I can’t find her anywhere. I worry she may have gotten into trouble.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Pigeon said. “If she shows up, I’ll call.”
“Could you tell the other kids to be on the lookout?” Mr. Stott asked.
“Sure,” Pigeon said. “I’ll get in touch with them right away.”
“How are things at the arcade?”
“Nate has almost enough tickets to join one of the clubs. One of the women working there is Suyin Chen. She’s going by the name of Katie Sung.”
Mr. Stott looked startled. “I know of Suyin Chen. She’s a dangerous woman. You don’t want to fight her. If circumstances ever lead to a physical confrontation, run, and don’t look back.”
“That’s my basic plan with any confrontation,” Pigeon replied.
“Smart lad. Still no clue who owns Arcadeland?”
“Not yet. We’re hoping Nate might find out if he earns a stamp.”
“All right.” Mr. Stott caressed the steering wheel. “You kids take care. I’m working on a new batch of Peak Performance gum. You four are using it up at an alarming rate.”
“Sorry,” Pigeon said.
Mr. Stott waved away the apology. “It’s for a good cause. I wish I could make the effect stay at full potency with consecutive uses. Moon Rocks work every time, regardless of the quantity consumed. Brain Feed seems to work better when administered often. But not Peak Performance.”
“It’s working fine,” Pigeon encouraged. “We’re cleaning up on tickets.”
“I’m glad. Stay prepared for trouble. And watch for Lindy.”
“Will do,” Pigeon pledged. He climbed down from the ice cream truck and watched as it drove away, not playing any music.
*****
The next morning, Todd looked tired when he admitted Nate and his friends through the side door. Todd and Cleon were the only visible employees. They supervised as Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon dominated game after game. Attractions like Shooting Stars paid lots of tickets but also gobbled time, since all of the tickets had to pay out before another turn could be taken. Having the arcade to themselves allowed Nate and his friends to move around aggressively, playing other games while tickets spooled out after a big score. It was only a matter of minutes before Nate had enough tickets to claim a stamp.
Todd went behind the redemption counter when Nate approached.
“Finally going to cash in some tickets?” Todd asked.
“One jet stamp, please.”
Todd covered his mouth and chuckled. “You only started playing here a couple days ago and you’re already taking the big prize. Talk about some serious skills. Let’s count your tickets.”
Nate handed over four cards and Todd scanned them.
“You have almost two thousand tickets to spare,” Todd said. “Nice work. Your extra tickets are on this card. I assume you’ll want it for your friends?”
“Yeah, we worked together.”
Todd handed the card back to Nate. “No rules against pooling your tickets.” Todd crouched and removed the jet stamp from under the counter. He handed it to Nate. “Last one.”
“Last one?” Nate furrowed his brow. Roman must have finished up yesterday after all. “Who took the second to last?”
“I can’t share that with you,” Todd said. “It was claimed yesterday evening. You’re welcome to ask around. Or you can find out when your first stamp gets applied. The other Jets will be there.”
“When it gets applied?” Nate wondered.
“You earned the stamp itself. The ink comes later. Come back at ten this morning, we’ll get you hooked up. Then you’ll learn what your prize really means.”
Pocketing his jet stamp, Nate turned to rejoin his friends. They gathered around him, and he dug it out of his pocket.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Trevor said.
“The stamp itself probably isn’t valuable,” Pigeon speculated. “It’s like a ticket.”
“I’m supposed to come back at ten to get the stamp applied,” Nate said. “I guess I’ll find out more then.” He held up a card. “This has about two thousand tickets. We should start earning more.”
Pigeon had a knack for hitting the Shooting Stars jackpot on every try; Trevor kept claiming the grand prize on Wheel of Destiny; Summer worked some of the other games where the player had to freeze lights; and Nate methodically upped the record on basketball. Todd and Cleon watched in disbelief, replacing rolls of tickets as needed.
The flood of tickets slowed as the kids moved into their fourth, fifth, and sixth sticks of Peak Performance. Cleon and Todd stopped having to refill ticket dispensers quite as regularly. Pigeon remained able to freeze Shooting Stars for the jackpot longer than the others, but when his average fell below once every twenty tries, he moved on.
As Peak Performance elevated their abilities less and less, they migrated to the shooting gallery and the basketball game. They could no longer beat any records, but they could hit preset benchmarks to earn reasonable payouts.
By the time Cleon announced that he and Todd needed to close up to prepare to open the arcade to the public, the four kids had accumulated more than 75,000 tickets. They gathered near the redemption counter to confer.
“Who gets the next stamp?” Nate asked.
“We should buy a tank,” Pigeon said. “It costs more tickets than the racecar or the submarine, so it might be more important.”
“I could do the tank,” Summer offered.
“Fine with me,” Trevor said. “I like the look of the racecar.”
“Does that make me the submarine?” Pigeon asked.
“Do you mind?” Summer checked.