“Wake up.”

  Kasia yawned and raised her arms above her head. “What time is it?”

  “That clock over there says it’s eight,” Rahim said.

  “Okay, okay, I’m up,” Kasia said.

  “Come on, let’s get going. We gotta try to figure out how to get our phone and help the Jacksons,” Rahim said.

  “I already have a plan. We just have to create a distraction so we can get in the house and get Iago and the Jacksons and the phone. Then we can go home.”

  Rahim sat next to her on the couch and rubbed his hands across his face.

  “When we get home, we gotta talk to them about what’s been going on. Everything that’s been going on,” Rahim said.

  “You mean, our future selves? You really are tripping about them.”

  “I know, but I need to understand. They are us, but they aren’t really us. And it’s not just that they are older. They aren’t rappers. They aren’t research scientists. I thought they were some kind of like time police, but now, I don’t know. That’s why we need to talk to them. No more secrets.”

  “Well, at least we know we stay friends,” Kasia said.

  “Yeah. That ain’t never gonna change.” Rahim bumped Kasia’s fist.

  “But we should get going. How long do you think it’ll take to walk back over there? That guy that dropped us off was driving mad fast.”

  “Well, it took us about fifteen minutes to get here by car. Taking in variables in mass and velocity, it should take about an hour to walk back over there,” Kasia said.

  Rahim let his head drop.

  “An hour? Man, I miss having our phone. I guess we should get going.”

  “Walking is good for you. It’s great exercise,” Kasia said.

  “I think I’ve had enough exercise today to last me the rest of my life.”

  “You know, maybe you’ll write a song about all this for the talent show. People will think it’s a made-up story, a fantasy, but so what.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Rahim said.

  We have to make it home first, he thought.

  * * *

  As they exited the lobby of the hotel and walked out into the night, Rahim started freestyling. The temperature had dropped a bit, but the humidity was still in effect.

  Riding through time like a rocket on blast,

  Things fall apart, but we’re fixing the past.

  The future to the present, forever make it all last,

  Push go forward, step on the gas!

  “That was pretty dope,” Kasia said as they walked out onto the street.

  “Thanks. Do you remember which way we came from? Or do you have it stored in your glasses’ computer thingy?” Rahim said.

  “I memorized the address when we were running out the door. Hey, you think we could just take a taxi?” Kasia said, pointing to several yellow cabs parked at the corner near the hotel.

  “I don’t know if I have enough money. I only had a five on me.”

  “I have my emergency fifty dollars,” Kasia said.

  “You have a what?”

  “My mom and dad gave me fifty dollars on the first day of school. They said it was for emergencies. I think this qualifies. Besides, it’s 1978, a fifteen-minute taxi ride gotta be like two dollars?” Kasia said.

  “Should we just be passing out this money from the future? I already spent that five; now you’re going to spend a fifty. Is that really a good idea?”

  Kasia pondered this for a moment.

  “Actually, I think it will be okay. Who actually looks at the date on their money? Plus, I’m pretty sure your five dollars didn’t affect anything, so my fifty should be fine. Besides, I’m beginning to change my theories on time travel. If you can travel freely, maybe you can just undo any changes. So it’s not that big of a deal in the long run.”

  “How sure are you, for real?” Rahim said.

  “94.7 percent,” Kasia said.

  Rahim took a deep breath.

  “Let’s catch that taxi, then. I hope he got an air conditioner,” Rahim said.

  * * *

  The taxi did not have an air conditioner. By the time it dropped them off at the intersection near the mansion they had escaped from, they were both soaked in sweat. It didn’t help that the taxi’s windows didn’t open fully and the driver didn’t seem to be a fan of deodorant.

  “That’ll be two-fifty,” the taxi driver said.

  Kasia handed him the fifty and waited for her change with her hand out. The driver gave her the change, and she and Rahim got out.

  “No tip?” the taxi driver asked. Kasia gave him a dollar.

  “Here’s a tip. There are a lot of natural minerals you can use for deodorant,” she said.

  “What did you say?” the taxi driver asked. Kasia was already walking down the street.

  “Nothing, have a nice night, sir,” Rahim said. He caught up with Kasia.

  “Okay, we’re here. Now what?” Rahim said.

  “Maybe I go up to the door and ring the doorbell and distract them while you go in and find the phone?”

  “How am I supposed to get in the house?” Rahim asked.

  Kasia exhaled and sucked at her teeth.

  “I mean, maybe break a window?”

  “I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Rahim Reynolds, not a professional burglar,” Rahim said

  “That your name? Rahim? I didn’t know you guys were still hanging around.”

  Rahim jumped like he’d been stung by a bee. Kimo came out of the dark and stood in front of them. He was wearing a black T-shirt with the image of a huge mouth on it.

  “Hi,” Rahim said.

  “Hi,” Kimo said.

  “We thought those dudes in the hoodies had got you,” Kimo said.

  “They did, but then we got away,” Kasia said.

  “Cool,” Kimo said.

  “Where’s your fearless leader?” Kasia asked.

  Kimo shrugged.

  “Lono? He went home. He has to help his mom watch his brothers and sisters at night so she can work.”

  “Why aren’t you at home?” Kasia asked.

  “Sometimes my dad just needs his space. I hang out until he cools off. He used to work at the macadamia farm, but then they shut down last year to build a resort. He’s had a hard time finding a new job.”

  “Oh,” Kasia said.

  Rahim scuffed his toe on the sidewalk.

  “That must suck,” Rahim said.

  Kimo shrugged again.

  “It’s … whatever. It is what it is. Hey, um, I’m sorry about earlier. Lono doesn’t like tourists. He can be mean for no reason sometimes.”

  Kasia nodded. “You wanna help make it up to us?”

  “How?” Kimo asked.

  “Where the rest of your friends? Minus Lono,” Kasia asked.

  “Most of them at home,” Kimo said.

  “Could they come out if you ask them?” Kasia said.

  “I think so. What do you want us to do? Because I gotta be straight with you, I’m not trying to take on those hooded guys. Lono said that one dude almost broke his arm.”

  “You’re not going to have to take them on,” Kasia said. “We just gonna need you to help us set up some distractions.”

  “That sounds like something,” Kimo said. “I guess they would help.”

  “Do your friends like blowing things up?” Kasia asked.

  “Blowing things up?” Rahim and Kimo said in unison.

  “Let’s get off the street, and I’ll explain everything,” Kasia said.

  Kimo led them back to his house. They slipped into the backyard and sat at a small picnic table.

  “We gotta be kinda quiet because my dad is sleeping,” Kimo said. Kasia explained her plan to them. When she was done, Rahim raised his hand.

  “You don’t have to raise your hand, Rahim,” Kasia said. “We’re not in school.”

  Rahim looked at his hand, then put it down.

  “Okay, but do you think we can find all the stuff you’re gonna need to make this work? Like can we just buy it in a store this late at night?” he asked.

  “We should be able to, and I can substitute some things,” Kasia said.

  “Um … is that a good idea?” Kimo said.

  “What?” Kasia asked.

  “Substituting things.”

  “It should be fine,” Kasia said.

  “Should be?” Kimo said.

  “Just trust me,” Kasia said.

  “All right. You seem pretty and smart. I mean, uh, pretty smart,” Kimo said.

  Kasia turned her head away from Kimo, but Rahim could see she was smiling.

  “Hey,” Rahim said. “You said you had some friends who would be willing to help us.”

  “Yeah, they usually up for some trouble. Let’s go round them up. I know Sammy is at the arcade. Come on.” He brushed past Kasia and Rahim and headed for the gate in the fence that surrounded his house. Rahim noticed that Kasia was moving quickly to catch up with Kimo.

  They walked through town, down the sidewalks that rose and fell like a gentle wave. One minute the streets seemed deserted, and the next it was like there were people everywhere: tourists, locals, people packed in every square inch. He was used to crowded streets. Philly had tons of crowded streets. This was different. This felt overwhelming. You routinely travel through time. Don’t let a crowd freak you out, Rahim thought to himself.

  They turned a corner and found themselves in front of a huge sprawling building with a roll-up garage door as the entrance. The sign above the door said KAHU ARCADE in bright-red neon letters. They followed Kimo inside.

  Rahim was blown away.

  He’d never gone to an arcade. When he visited his grandparents down south, they took him to the boardwalk and played shuffleboard, a game that reminded him of checkers with hockey sticks. But he’d never seen a place like this before in his entire life. There were dozens of games here. Pinball machines, Skee-Ball, basketball games, games where you had to punch a bag to see how hard you could hit, ring toss, bean bag toss, even a couple of pool tables. And there were kids everywhere. Boys and girls with deep summer tans who shouted or squealed when someone got a high score or a center ring.

  Rahim could smell popcorn and cotton candy and cheeseburgers coming from the snack bar at the rear of the building. Music poured from a pair of speakers mounted above the entrance. It wasn’t Roy Ayers, but it was another song he couldn’t place at first. Then he remembered: It was from the MC Lyte song “Woo Woo.”

  As the song ended, a deep voice boomed through the speakers.

  “That’s the new song from some bad cats from New York who go by the name of Chic. Right on? Right on,” the DJ said.

  Kimo pointed. “Sammy’s over there at the Jaws pinball machine,” he said.

  Rahim looked toward the Jaws pinball machine. Sammy was taller than Kimo, who was taller than Rahim, but he was rail thin with long black hair and glasses. He was standing with both hands on the sides of the pinball machine, working the paddles frantically.

  “Don’t say nothing till he finishes,” Kimo said.

  Rahim didn’t say anything.

  But Kasia did. She walked up to the machine and started talking. “Wow,” she said, “this is a really cool example of the conservation of momentum and specific gravity and velocity and—”

  A girl standing near Sammy shushed her.

  “Excuse you,” Kasia said.

  The lights on the pinball machine started to blink and flash. Rahim thought he heard bells going off, too.

  “New high score. How ya like them apples?” Sammy said.

  “Hey, brother,” Kimo said.

  Sammy turned and gave Kimo a high five.

  “What’s up? Your pops freaking out again?” Sammy said. Rahim saw Kimo’s face get tight, then relax.

  “Nah. This my friend Rahim and his friend Kasia. They want us to help them with something,” Kimo said.

  “You wanna blow some stuff up?” Kasia asked.

  “Stop saying that,” Rahim whispered.

  “Say what?” Sammy asked.

  “We just want you to help us get something back from some people who stole it from us. You down?” Rahim said.

  Sammy rubbed his chin.

  “I don’t know, man, I’m not trying to get in trouble. My pops is still mad at me for that prank we played at the surfing tournament last week.”

  “How about this?” Kasia said. “If Rahim can beat your high score, you have to help us.”

  Rahim was reminded of something. Then he thought of it: the basketball game that Barry had proposed to settle the question of who should have his phone. Did time just copy itself in different versions? “Excuse us,” Rahim said. He pulled Kasia aside.

  “I’ve never played pinball in my whole life. How do you expect me to beat his high score?”

  “Like I said,” Kasia said, “it’s a simple exercise in physics. I’ll help you, okay? I don’t know how much time we have. We can’t go all over the city trying to round up people, experts in this or that. But we’re here, now. Let’s get this guy to help, and then we keep it moving.”

  “You sure about this?” Rahim asked.

  Kasia nodded.

  “98.9 percent sure. Come on,” she said.

  They went back over to the pinball machine.

  “Okay,” Sammy said. “Today’s high score is like five hundred thousand.”

  “It’s four hundred eighty thousand,” Kasia said.

  “Off night,” Sammy said.

  Rahim reached in his pocket and grabbed a quarter. He put the coin in the slot on the pinball machine, and the game lit up. A metal ball popped into a slot on the right-hand side of the game.

  “You gotta pull the launcher thing to shoot the ball,” Kimo said.

  “Oh yeah,” Rahim said. He pulled the launcher, which was a silver knob attached to a spring. When he released it, the plunger shot forward and pushed the ball out onto a little ramp on the pinball machine.

  Rahim watched as the ball came rolling back toward him. He put his hands on each side of the machine and found the buttons that worked the paddles inside the game.

  “Wait,” Kasia said.

  Rahim waited.

  “Wait,” Kasia said again.

  The metal ball continued to roll toward the bottom of the pinball game.

  “NOW!” Kasia yelled.

  Rahim hit the paddles. The metal ball bounced off the right paddle and rolled back up, hitting a couple of bumpers on its way. Rahim’s score started to rise.

  The ball started to come back down to the bottom of the game again.

  “I got it,” he said.

  “But only hit the right one,” Kasia said. “Then count to two and hit the left.”

  Rahim did what she said. The ball bounced off the left paddle, hit two bumpers, and then rolled back up one of the ramps. It sat there for a moment before being expelled again and rolling down toward Rahim again.

  “Left, right, left!” Kasia said.

  The ball bounced off the left paddle, hit the wall, came back, and then bounced off the right one.

  His score went up a few more points.

  Now he was getting the rhythm. Kasia was still calling out directions, but he was in the zone. Playing pinball was like freestyling. You didn’t overthink it. You just went with the flow. Let the next thing, whether a lyric or a move, come naturally. If you overthought it, you’d mess up the flow. Rahim didn’t even check the score. He just watched as the ball raced around hitting bumpers and racking up bonus points. Now he felt like he was freestyling. There was even a beat, courtesy of the flippers. Time went by, and then seemed to stop going by. Finally the ball slipped by both paddles.

  “Game over,” he said. But he said it like he knew what was coming next.

  “Wow,” Sammy said.

  “More than seven hundred thousand,” Kimo said. “Dang, man.”

  “Rahim, that was amazing,” Kasia said.

  Sammy held his hand up in front of Rahim’s face, and Rahim slapped his palm.

  “So you’ll help us?” Rahim said.

  “I’ll help anyone who’s that amazing on the machine. Besides, I’m not in a hurry to go home. Our record player broke, so I can’t listen to my Rick James album,” Sammy said.

  “You have a turntable?” Rahim said. “That’s so retro.”

  Sammy looked confused.

  “I mean, so cool,” Rahim said.

  “Yeah,” Sammy said. “It’s not as good as the last one, but my brother broke that. He was playing with the record, making it slow down, then speed up. He’d pull it back and forth with his hand and make weird sounds with the needle. Scratching sounds.”

  “Scratching, huh,” Rahim whispered. He’d never seen it in person. He wished he’d been able to watch what Sammy’s brother was doing.

  “Now let’s go see Tilo,” Kimo said.

  Tilo lived out near the beach in a trailer with his mom and dad. When they got there, he was outside tossing a baseball up in the air and catching it as he listened to a game on a huge clunky-looking radio.

  Tilo, who was short and stocky with a mop of brown curls, didn’t need any convincing. “It’s like we’re going on a secret mission, right?” The prospect seemed to fill him with joy, like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “He’s into spy movies and the Bionic Man,” Kimo said. “He still ain’t got over them canceling it. Mission: Impossible is his favorite TV show. He’s obsessed with the repeats they show on Channel 6.”

  “It was a TV show?” Kasia whispered.

  The last person they rounded up was Kimo’s friend Alex. He was from Japan and was living in Hawaii with his grandparents. Alex was not so sure about joining Rahim and Kasia’s cause at first.

  “I mean, what if we get caught?” Alex said as he straddled his bicycle. Rahim noticed he was wearing old-school black Chuck Taylors.

  Some things change, but lots don’t, Rahim thought.

  “Naw,” Kasia said. “You aren’t going to get caught, because you’re not really doing anything wrong. Like I told Kimo, you’re just going to create a distraction.”

  Alex frowned.

  “What do you think, Kimo?” Alex said.

  Kimo shrugged.

  “Not like we haven’t done worse,” he said.