Iowa Huberman and the Great Conqueror's Lost Tomb

Chapter 2

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Without lifting his head from its pillow, Kevin swung his arm to slam down on his alarm clock.  

7:00am

Here's to another miserable week of useless information being force fed to my brain, Kevin thought.  He sat up, kicked off his bed-sheets, and rolled onto his feet.  The bus would not arrive at the end of the Huberman's cul-de-sac for another forty-five minutes, so Kevin leisurely stomped out of his bedroom and down the hall to his bathroom.  After a quick shower, Kevin brushed his teeth and headed upstairs for breakfast. 

As he had grown accustomed to on most every Monday morning, mom was already setting breakfast on the table.  Four crisp pieces of bacon, cooked to absolute sizzling perfection, framed his breakfast platter.  Contained within was a scoop of scrambled eggs and a single piece of toast spread with crunchy peanut butter.  It was cut corner to corner, just like Kevin had preferred since he was a toddler.  It looked and smelled amazing, but all Kevin could think about were the words Mr. George had left him contemplating last night.  

"I hope you enjoy you're breakfast," Mom smiled. "I made it just for you.  You know how important it is to start the week with your favorite breakfast."  

The kitchen table was also littered with various helpings of fresh fruit, buttered English muffins, and hard-boiled eggs.  It was just the three of them at the Huberman residence, but mom always cooked like she was expecting all of our relatives to show up at any moment.  

Kevin sat down and began tearing into a piece of bacon.  It was perfect.  Not too crisp, but also not too tender.  For a while, Kevin had considered becoming a chef when he was older, but mom always took care of the kitchen, so he had decided it just would not be practical.  He scooped the last spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, tossed his backpack over his shoulder, and kissed his mom on the cheek before busting through the front door.  

Dad was outside, spreading fertilizer on the lawn.  The tiny pellets rained down on the grass in a twisted pattern from the spreader Mr. Huberman pushed across the yard.   

"Have a good day, son!" Dad called after him. "And watch out for those trees!"

"Why?" Kevin stopped and asked him, puzzled.  

"They've been looking extra shady this morning," He stood there smiling, waiting for his son's response, but Kevin was not going to let him have that one.  It was a bad one, even for a dad.  He shook his head and walked down their drive-way, concealing a slight smile.  

It was early spring in Dubuque, and birds were just beginning to return to Iowa.  Their songs filled the air.  Kevin pulled up his collar to resist the chill bite to the wind.   When he arrived at the end of their cul-de-sac, Kevin moved passed the burly Fairmont twins to get to his spot nearest the bus doors entry point.  Thankfully they were too taking turns punching each other in the gut to even notice him. He checked his watch and tapped his foot impatiently as he stared down the deserted avenue from which the bus would soon come rumbling around the corner.  

"Hey stupidman," One of the twins called behind him.  Stupidman was supposed to be a twist on Huberman, but Kevin just found the name incredibly ironic when the Fairmont twins were tossing it about.  

"What do you want, fat man?" He pronounced the 'man' part like he'd heard the people in Jamaica say. Kevin knew they had been so close to finding Blackbeard's sunken ship, and made a mental note to ask Mr. George if they could plan a second adventure to the Caribbean soon. Kevin had even replied without turning his head to see which twin had decided to so annoyingly interrupt his thoughts.  He knew his insult had hit deeper, and was considerably more clever.  

"We aren't fat," One of them said, "Our dad says we're the strongest twelve year old boys in the world."  They glared at him above chubby, wind-whipped, red cheeks.  Kevin thought they could have been the mascots of some new greasy fast food burger chain; the kind of place that gives you two burgers even if you only asked for one.

"Whatever you say, guys."  

"Say we're the strongest," The twin on the left threatened. "Or we'll give you another wedgie."  

"Yeah," The other smiled and cracked his knuckles. "All the way over your head this time too."  

Kevin held back a smirk.  He'd had a feeling the fatboy twins might be feeling especially power-hungry this morning, so he was prepared for this exact situation.  

"Try me," He told them, standing tall, he continued to keep an eye out for the school bus that would be coming around the corner any second now.  

"Are you serious?" The fatboy on the left stomped his foot on the concrete side-walk.  

"Do you need me to go get your mommy?" Kevin mocked confidently, "I'm sure she would be able to help you get through this temper tantrum."  Just a few more seconds.  Kevin checked his watch, the bus should already be in sight.  It was late. Thankfully, he was ready for that too.

Suddenly, a chubby hand went down the backside of his jeans and began reaching around wildly.  

"Hey!"  The twin with a mitt down Kevin's pants yelped, "This weirdo isn't wearing any underwear."  

It was exactly the opportunity Kevin had anticipated.  He feigned a surprised shriek and as he jumped away, pulled a cord that he held in his right hand. Underneath his jacket, Kevin had concealed a heavy wooden mallet.  Its hefty pummel rested against his lower back, but when he yanked that cord, it swung upwards and struck the nearest fatboy right between the legs.  

The hefty boy seemed to lift several feet into the air and spun a full three hundred-sixty degrees before plummeting to the ground with a thud.  He only knew which one he'd hit because the other one screamed out his brother's name as if he'd just been he'd just been outgunned in an old wild west shootout. Well, this time, Kevin had the quicker reflexes. Mental reflexes.

"You're dead meat!" Jimmy Fatboy raged, charging at Kevin with his head down and arms flailing wildly at his sides.  The hulking boy seemed to shake the earth with each bound.  

Bringing with it as much relief as a man stranded in the desert might have to see the sunrise, the rumbling school bus rolled over the hill down the avenue, driving faster than it should have been, likely trying to make up for the few minutes it was currently running behind.  Its bright yellow face signaled safety for Kevin.  His plan seemed to have worked to perfection.  Now all that was left was explaining that Johnny had actually been the one to spring his trap when he had reached for a wedgie. Kevin started to smile to himself.  He dismissed the threat of the second twin and turned towards the street to wait patiently for the bus' arrival.  

Kevin's entire body lurch forward, and then he face-planted into the gravelly asphalt of York Avenue.  He tried to get up, but was pinned down under the immense weight of one of the strongest twelve year old boys in the entire world.

"Get o-" Kevin tried to choke out his warning. "The bu-... is.... co-..ming."

The bus began to screech as the driver slammed on the breaks.  Kevin watched from his cramped position, face pressed into the concrete. The squeal of approaching tires finally got fatboy's attention, but he just looked up like a deer caught in the headlights. 

"I'll stop the bus!" Johnny screamed as he leapt in front of us and put his hands out as if he planned to stop this bus like Superman.

Thankfully, the bus screeched to a halt, inches from Johnny's outstretched hands. The kid just turned them towards himself and stared at his palms. 

"What am I?" He asked himself in astonishment.

Kevin wanted to shout. To beg this big lug to get off of him now that they were no longer going to die, but he couldn't. Kevin exhaled and panicked when the space his air had taken was pressed further into the concrete. He wheezed for a breathe, but everything quickly faded to black.