But Bryce was too fast. He took a bite.

  The world went blurry.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE FACE BEHIND THE TREE

  Bryce was in a forest. The ground was covered in colorful leaves. The trees swayed in a gentle breeze. Birds chirped. It was chilly, but pleasant.

  Hopewell Elementary was gone. There was no vice principal’s office. No gym or cafetorium. There were no buildings anywhere. It was just forest as far as the eye could see.

  He still had his fish sticks with him. They seemed to follow him to whatever universe he visited. And he was still wearing his costume. Those seemed to be the only things that stayed consistent no matter what universe he was in. Plus he wasn’t in trouble for wearing his costume, so that was a good thing.

  But he also wasn’t sure if he should be in a universe where Hopewell Elementary didn’t exist. Fourth grade was important. Without fourth grade, there’d be no fifth grade, and without fifth grade, there’d be no sixth grade, and without—

  You get the point. But it was about more than academics for Bryce. It was about friends and fellow students. Where was Carson? And Riley? What about Keisha?

  Where was anybody?

  The answer to that last question came in the form of a familiar sounding voice behind him.

  “Hello, Skittle,” the voice said.

  Bryce quickly turned around to discover a face poking out from behind a tree. But it wasn’t a human face.

  “You’re a . . . ,” Bryce said, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Because he was staring at a gummy bear. It was at least four feet tall, and it was blue and, for lack of a better word, gummy. It was also moving and talking.

  “It’s been years since I’ve chatted with a Skittle,” the gummy bear said.

  “Well, I’ve never ever ever chatted with a gummy bear,” Bryce said, with a mix of fear and joy in his voice.

  The gummy bear put out a soft and jiggly paw, and said, “Now you have. My name is Carson. Carson Cooper.”

  “It can’t be,” Bryce said as he reached out and shook the soft and jiggly paw.

  “It can and it is,” the gummy bear said in a voice that sounded exactly like the Carson that Bryce knew. “The others will be so excited to meet you.”

  “There are more like you?” Bryce asked.

  “Sure, there are,” Gummy Carson said. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  GUMMY BEAR PICNIC

  Gummy Carson led Bryce around a thick patch of trees and past a field full of rocks. One of the rocks reminded him of a rock from the playground that kids always tripped over. In fact, it looked exactly like it.

  They walked a little farther, following a path through pricker bushes until they came upon more gummy bears, who sat in a circle around a glowing hole in the ground. It almost looked like a firepit, but it was clearly a glowing hole.

  All the gummy bears turned and smiled when they saw Bryce.

  “Hey, everyone,” Gummy Carson said. “I met a Skittle. His name is . . .”

  “Bryce,” Bryce said.

  “Hi, Bryce, I’m Riley,” said a red gummy bear.

  “And I’m Keisha,” said a green gummy bear.

  It was incredible. They all looked like gummy bears, but they had the names and voices of kids he knew. What were the odds?

  The odds were quite slim, but when there are infinite universes, odds don’t mean much. A universe like this had to exist, and Bryce figured he might as well enjoy it. He had always wanted to talk to gummy bears.

  “We were about to have a picnic,” Gummy Carson told Bryce. “And we’d love it if you joined us.”

  “Oh, please do,” Gummy Keisha added. “It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed the company of a Skittle. I adore Skittles.”

  Everyone was so friendly that Bryce immediately stopped thinking of them as gummy bears. He started thinking of them as friends. Even Keisha, who wasn’t technically his friend in his home universe. And that felt simply wonderful.

  Bryce sat down with his friends in the circle, which gave him a closer view of the hole. The glow from it was orange, but it didn’t seem to give off any heat. “So, what’s with the hole?” he asked.

  “Oh, that’s a very important hole,” Gummy Carson said.

  “A most magical hole,” Gummy Riley said with a paw up. “It solves problems.”

  “I can solve most problems on my own,” Gummy Keisha added. “But when I can’t, this hole does the trick.”

  It sounded very familiar to Bryce, so he said, “We have something like that where I come from. It’s called Locker 37.”

  “Ooooh, sounds very lockery,” Gummy Riley said.

  “Where do you come from?” Gummy Keisha asked. “Is it a place where only Skittles live?”

  “There are Skittles there, sure,” Bryce said. “Lots of other stuff, too.”

  “What do you eat there?” Gummy Carson asked. “I just realized that we were about to have a picnic, but we don’t know what Skittles eat. I’m worried we won’t have what you like. All we eat are onions. Onion soup. Onion rings. Onion tarts.”

  “That’s tarta de cebolla en Español,” Gummy Riley said.

  Not only were these talking gummy bears, but they were also bilingual gummy bears. Very impressive!

  “Onions are okey-dokey by me,” Bryce said, trying to be polite. But he was not a fan of onion soup, onion rings, or onion tarts. Not that he’d ever had an onion tart. Still, he could confidently say he was not a fan.

  Gummy Keisha put a gooey paw on Bryce’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, buddy. You don’t have to eat onions if you don’t want to. And I can tell you don’t want to. Just think of your favorite food and the hole will give it to you. It’s that simple.”

  It was an intriguing idea. Plus Bryce was quite hungry, having skipped breakfast that morning to prepare his costume.

  So what food did Bryce think about?

  Chapter Thirteen

  DO NOT THINK ABOUT UNICORNS

  Controlling your thoughts is a hard thing to do. Want proof?

  For the next minute, DO NOT think about unicorns.

  Seriously. Close your eyes for one minute and try NOT to think about unicorns. You know, with their flowing manes and the rainbow sparkles in their eyes? DO NOT think about any of that. At all. Think about anything in the universe besides unicorns.

  Got it?

  Good.

  Go.

  . . .

  Couldn’t do it, could you? Unicorns kept sneaking back into your thoughts, didn’t they? You were probably sitting there thinking about the vastness of the universe, and imagining the endless void of space when all of a sudden, a unicorn in an astronaut’s helmet floated by and waved its hoof at you. Don’t worry. It happens to everyone.

  It happened to Bryce. Gummy Keisha had asked him to think of his favorite food so that the magical hole would give him his favorite food. But Bryce didn’t want to think of his favorite food.

  It was not because his favorite food was unicorns. Because ewww, gross!

  Or maybe not gross. Maybe unicorns are delicious. Maybe they taste like chocolate and peanut butter, or cheese puffs, or strawberry and kiwi smoothies. We’ll never know, of course, because the last remaining unicorns left our planet in 1969 when they stowed away on the first rocket to the moon.

  Wait. We’ve been distracted by unicorns again, haven’t we? What were we talking about?

  Oh yes. Bryce’s favorite food.

  It was something very different from unicorns. He wanted to hide the idea of his favorite food away in that drab sealed container at the back of his brain. In other words, he didn’t want to think about it.

  So, of course, he thought about it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  FAVORITE FOOD

  A gummy bear popped out of the glowing orange hole.

  Not a big talking gummy bear. A regular gummy bear that you’d find in any candy store. Because this was Bryce’s favorite food, and he couldn’t not think about his favorite food. But it certainly created an awkward situation.

  Gummy Keisha gasped, put a paw on her chest and said, “That’s not . . . ?”

  “It’s a baby!” Gummy Carson screamed. “The Skittle wants to eat a baby!”

  Bryce scrambled to his feet and put his hands up. “I do not want to eat any babies. That’s candy. It’s not alive.”

  “It’s . . . dead?” Gummy Carson said with a gulp. And then he fainted.

  “Holy Pasta Frutta,” Gummy Riley whispered. “Things have gotten pretty dark pretty quickly, haven’t they?”

  “Where I come from, these are candy,” Bryce said frantically as he picked the little gummy bear up. “Taste it and you’ll see. It’s like if I ate a Sour Patch Kid. I eat Sour Patch Kids all the time.”

  “Um . . . what does that Skittle eat all the time?” said a voice coming from the forest. Then a walking, talking Sour Patch Kid stepped into the light.

  Bryce set the gummy bear down. “I should probably leave, shouldn’t I?”

  All the big gummy bears nodded. Gummy Keisha’s face twisted up in anger, and she pointed to the dark forest. And the Sour Patch Kid took a step back as Bryce skulked past him.

  The last thing he heard from the crowd as he walked away was absolutely devastating. He heard the voice of Gummy Keisha, which was the exact same voice as the Keisha he knew from home. She was saying, “That was a close call. I’m so glad I never have to see that weirdo again. And I used to like Skittles, too. Never again.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  CHECKLIST

  Bryce walked slowly through the forest, considering his dilemma. He knew he could eat some fish sticks and travel to a different universe, but that’s not what he needed right now. He needed to think, and the forest was a pleasant place to do that.

  Bryce was beginning to notice a pattern. The fish sticks were supposed to solve his problem. He thought his problem was that he wanted to wear his costume and not get in trouble for it. In each universe he had visited, that problem had been solved. No one was mad about his costume. But in each universe he had visited, new problems replaced that old one. He had faced bloodthirsty mobs, laser noses, and disgusted gummy bears.

  He had a sudden realization. Maybe Locker 37 was giving him access to all the different universes where his problem was solved so that he could choose which one he liked best. Therefore, when he found the ideal fit, he could stop eating the fish sticks and settle down there. After all, wouldn’t everyone want to live in a universe where they didn’t have to think about some of the things they didn’t want to think about? It seemed better than going home.

  The idea was scary, but also incredibly exciting. What would Bryce’s ideal universe look like? He knew he couldn’t expect perfection, but he thought it might be helpful to have a list of things his ideal world would include, so when he found one that fit the bill, he’d be happy enough to stay.

  The plate of fish sticks came with a mound of ketchup, so Bryce dipped a finger in it and wrote his list on the cardboard inside of his costume.

  Costumes: That was his original problem, right? In his ideal universe, costumes, of all shapes and sizes, needed to be acceptable. Celebrated, in fact. And people had to be okay with using the word Halloween.

  Family: He loved his mom and dad and his grandparents and all his aunts and uncles and cousins and he couldn’t imagine a universe without them.

  Friends: The same went for his friends. Riley and Carson had to be there. What about Keisha? Yes, Bryce couldn’t exactly call her a friend. But he knew he wanted her there. He’d even be okay with Hunter being there, as long as he didn’t have a laser nose.

  Hopewell Elementary: Sometimes he didn’t like going to school, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love his school. Or need his school. Love is confusing like that. No matter what, Hopewell Elementary had to stay, too.

  Gummy Bears That Don’t Walk and Talk: That’s pretty much self-explanatory.

  When it came down to it, Bryce wasn’t asking for much. Or was he?

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE BALLAD OF THE SCREAMIN’ BEAGLES

  Before we answer that question, it’s time for a quick detour. It’s time to tell the story of Gregory Gregson. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.

  Gregory Gregson was a weird, but nice, kid. Having almost the exact same first and last name wasn’t what made him weird, but that didn’t not make him weird. The kids in his class all called him Greg Greg. He was okay with that, even though some did it to tease him.

  Greg Greg went to Hopewell Elementary about thirty years before Bryce did. When he began fourth grade, he learned about Locker 37, like every other fourth-grader at school. And when he entered fifth grade, he forgot about it, like every other fifth-grader did.

  It was a shame, perhaps. Because it meant he didn’t remember the morning when he opened Locker 37 up and found a tambourine inside. Which was maybe the most important moment of his life.

  The fateful day started with a problem. No snow! The day before, the weather forecast had predicted snow, but no snow had fallen anywhere close to Hopewell Elementary by the morning. No snow meant no snow day, which meant fourth graders had to go to school. There weren’t a lot of smiles in the hallways.

  “I’ll fix it,” Greg Greg announced, and he hurried to Locker 37.

  When he opened the locker, he found a tambourine inside the orange glow. He shook it and slapped it and patted it against his thigh, making the little cymbals jingle. Then he looked out the nearest window.

  Still no snow.

  “Oh well,” Greg Greg said. “I guess magic can’t solve everything.”

  But the other fourth-graders were furious. They surrounded him in the hall before classes started.

  “You said you’d make it snow!” Lucinda Honeycutt shouted.

  “Yeah, what gives?” Beatrice Vonderhauf asked. “Why are we still at school? You wasted Locker 37, didn’t you, Greg Greg?”

  Greg Greg shrugged and said, “The tambourine makes a nice sound, at least.” Then he patted it against his hip.

  As soon as he did, the other kids started dancing. They couldn’t control it. Their heads started bobbing, their toes started tapping, and their hands swayed from side-to-side. But once he stopped playing the tambourine, they stopped dancing.

  “What just happened?” Lucinda asked.

  “I think we might’ve had . . . fun?” Beatrice said.

  Beatrice was right. Dancing was fun. And for the rest of the day, whenever Greg Greg saw another fourth-grader who was sad, or angry, or not enjoying school, he played the tambourine. And a dance party broke out.

  Some teachers were a little annoyed, but it didn’t distract students from the school work. In fact, kids were so happy to be at school that they worked harder and paid closer attention. No one was dozing off in class, that’s for sure. And no one cared anymore about the lack of a snow day. It was the greatest moment of Greg Greg’s life up to that point.

  That night, when Greg Greg went home, he knew that he couldn’t count on having a magical tambourine again. But he realized that he could learn to play other instruments. He didn’t need magic to start more dance parties. He simply needed some passion. He had plenty of that.

  The next day, he posted a handmade sign in the halls. It read:

  WANT TO JOIN A BAND BUT DON’T KNOW HOW TO PLAY AN INSTRUMENT? THAT’S OKAY. LET’S LEARN TOGETHER! JOIN THE SCREAMIN’ EAGLES TODAY!

  Greg Greg called the band the Screamin’ Eagles as a tribute to his father and grandfather, who were also named Gregory Gregson. They were both part of 101st Airborne Division of the army, which was referred to as, you guessed it, the Screaming Eagles.

  But the name of Greg Greg’s band didn’t last long. It was changed a few minutes after he posted the sign, when a graffiti artist named Sammy Rao took a Sharpie to it and added a B to the name. Therefore the Screamin’ Eagles became the Screamin’ Beagles. And Greg Greg was okay with that. In fact, he thought the new name sounded even better.

  Two people joined the Screamin’ Beagles that week.

  The first was a boy named Darius Schnell, who was encouraged to join by his father, Phineas Schnell, a professional physicist and an amateur theremin enthusiast. (If you don’t know what a theremin is, look it up. It’s pretty cool.)

  The second was Beatrice Vonderhauf, who had such a good time dancing to the tambourine that she decided she wanted more music in her life.

  The trio stuck together for the next thirty years, teaching and encouraging one another to play with passion and joy. None of them remembered that it all started because of a magical locker, an enchanted tambourine, and a snow day that never came to be.

  All they knew was somewhere along the way, they fell in love with music and it was as important to them as anything.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WEIRD NEW PLACE

  Now, what does any of that have to do with Bryce?

  Well, the Screamin’ Beagles were Bryce’s favorite band, of course.

  And Greg Greg was Bryce’s music teacher. Though Bryce knew him as Mr. Gregson.

  But perhaps the most important thing to note is that when Bryce took a bite of his fish sticks in the gummy bear universe, he was transported to another universe, one where he was onstage in the Hopewell Elementary cafetorium, and he was a part of the Screamin’ Beagles.