Bully-be-gone

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Chapter One

A knock at the laboratory door woke Millicent. She sat up and felt the side of her face. The spiral binding of her notebook had left ridges down her cheek.

"Millicent," said her uncle through the door. "Fell asleep down here again, eh?"

"Yeah, Uncle Phineas."

"Product launch today. Yes, yes. Exciting."

"I know, Uncle Phineas," she replied. "I know." Last night, she had been filled with excitement as she completed her latest invention. But this morning, the mere mention of her product launch made her stomach feel as though it had been shaken by a paint mixer at the hardware store.

"Hmmm. You sound nervous," Uncle Phineas said. "No need for it, yes. Half the formula is effort, half is belief in yourself. Yes, yes. Well . . ." His voice grew faint as he shuffled back up the stairs.

"Geez," she said, rubbing her eyes and looking around the lab.

Millicent and her guardian, Phineas Baldernot, shared the bottom floor of the house as their work space, otherwise referred to as Baldernot Madding Laboratories.

Uncle Phineas had renovated the entire basement many years ago, installing a network of sinks, tables, desks, and cabinets. He'd provided Millicent with every gadget and contrivance she would ever need to hone her skills as an inventor.

She had her own corner desk, five computers, and a granite-topped worktable, complete with a stainless steel sink. Metal cabinets lined one wall, each under lock and key. Millicent was free to use whatever chemicals, tools, or other materials she wanted from within the cabinets as long as she registered what she took on a master clipboard hanging from the middle cabinet.

Millicent liked the arrangement. And she liked working closely with Uncle Phineas. He didn't peer over her shoulder and bombard her with advice. He treated her as an associate, not as a little girl. Even when she'd ask for his input on a particular combination of chemicals or a certain junction of wires, he'd bend over and peer into her eyes. "What do you think will happen?" he'd ask. A question to which she didn't always have an answer.

Whatever gadget or potion she invented, Uncle Phineas had only one requirement -- that it improve someone's life, even if it were in the smallest way. He said the desire to make people's lives better was the hallmark of all great inventors.

Millicent looked up at the ceiling. "Good morning, everyone," she said, trying to muster a cheerful tone. A league of Masonville's most respected inventors and scientists stared back at her.

They were posters of her idols. Among them, a large photo of Inga Wymeronner, inventor of the PetLepathy Collar, a small screen your dog wore around his neck that showed his barks translated into English.

A few pictures of Bramwell Phitt, inventor of the Calorie Thermometer, a wallet-sized tool folks used to count their calories by sticking it in their food, were also sprinkled around the ceiling.

Mostly, though, huge posters of Uncle Phineas dotted the ceiling. His most popular invention, a hair growth tonic called Diffollicle Speed Gel, was available in curly, straight, or kinky formulas and in a variety of colors. With it, you could completely change your hair's color and texture from the roots. Each of the posters of Uncle Phineas was different. One showed him with long, red, wavy locks, another with a blond afro, another with a black pageboy -- all worn with his signature bushy white beard.

A huge metal box, as black as a black hole and as large as a walk-in closet, stood in one corner of the lab. It had a row of lights on top and a large red dial to the right of its front door. The words millennium travel cube were engraved above the door. Taped on the door was Millicent's favorite picture, that of her parents, Adair and Astrid Madding.

Adair and Astrid were inventors, too. Together, they were responsible for a series of fine inventions from Espresso Toothpaste -- for busy people with no time to grab a cup of coffee, let alone brush their teeth -- to the Lint Knitter Dryer, a clothes dryer that knitted scarves, socks, and beanies from leftover fibers in the lint catcher.

But their one failed invention, the black metal box in the corner, loomed like a sad memory. It was their most ambitious invention and could have been their greatest.

Millicent got off her lab stool and went over to the Millennium Travel Cube. She stood there, staring at her parents' picture. She reached toward the cube and ran her hand along the smooth surface of the door, letting it linger near the latch. "I could use a little help. I'm really anxious," she said to the picture.

In the photo, her mom and dad looked as cheerful as the day they went away. Millicent was barely six when they had stepped into the Millennium Travel Cube. "Time travel, the wave of the future," her mom had said before entering the cube. "We'll be back shortly," said her dad before shutting the cube's door. They were never seen again.

For months after they disappeared, Millicent used to knock on the Travel Cube's door saying, "Mommy? Daddy? Are you in there? Come out now. Please." Sometimes, she'd fall asleep at the door, swaddled in her favorite blanket. When she was older -- eight or nine years old -- she would tinker with the Travel Cube, hoping to get her mom and dad back. Uncle Phineas even tried helping her -- to no avail. The Travel Cube was far too complex, its codes too complicated for either of them to crack. She often wondered where in time her parents were and what they were doing. Were they dining with Julia Child? Dancing with Josephine Baker? Painting with Frida Kahlo? Or were their journeys local? Were they hanging out with Masonville's own historic figures: Ellery Winkery, inventor of the prosthetic eyelid, or Hannah Ovver, the famed three-armed xylophonist? Wherever they were, the . . .

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Excerpted from Bully-Be-Gone: The Misadventures of Millicent Madding #1 by Brian Tacang
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.