As she broke down firewalls and rerouted security trackers, the memory of the person from the alley came to her like a dream. The way they had waved at her and then just—well—just disappeared bothered Kasia. She hated being fooled. She had once reduced a street magician to tears because she kept telling everyone gathered how his tricks worked.

  She’d been six.

  Maybe Helmet Head was coming into her life now because of something Rahim had done in the past. But if that was the case, why didn’t they introduce themselves to Kasia? The way they had just stared at her from the back of the alley had been creepy.

  I hope you’re taking this seriously, Rahim. Because I think things could get real bad if you don’t, Kasia thought.

  RAHIM HOPED HE WASN’T messing up the timeline too bad. He and Omar were eating dinner with Uncle Cy and Shaka. Ms. Lottie had left for work and Grandpa Sam hadn’t gotten home yet, so Cy had made dinner.

  “I hope you like frank and beans because that’s all I know how to cook,” Cy said as he spooned hard, burned bits of beans and franks onto their plates.

  “I mean, I ain’t no chef, but are frank and beans supposed to be crunchy?” Shaka asked.

  “Hey, I didn’t see you volunteering to put nothing on the table.” Cy sat down and began to shovel forkfuls of crunchy beans into his mouth. Rahim thought Cy knew the beans were awful but was determined not to admit it.

  “I’m out.” Shaka got up from the table.

  “Hey, where you going?” Cy asked.

  “I’m going over to Tisha’s to see if her mama got anything I can actually eat.”

  “Suit yourself,” Cy said. He put another forkful in his mouth and grimaced. Rahim tried to eat too, but it felt like he was trying to chew dice. Omar wasn’t even trying. He just tapped his foot on the floor and his fork on his plate. He hadn’t touched one bite of his food.

  Rahim knew he was excited about going to the show, but he wished he would turn it down a notch. If Grandpa Sam got home soon, Rahim was sure he’d pick up on Omar’s excitement and start to question them. The next thing they knew, he’d give them that look that all dads give, telling them to go to bed.

  Maybe that’s what we should be doing, Rahim thought. As much as he wanted to do something nice for his dad—er . . . Omar—to make him happy, he kept thinking about what Kasia had said. What if what he did tonight caused him to be trapped in the past forever?

  “You gonna eat that?” Cy asked. He pointed a fork at Rahim’s plate.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Omar said, “Come on, let’s go to my room. Let me get a rematch.”

  “More for me,” Cy said as he dumped the contents of Rahim’s plate onto his own.

  Rahim followed Omar upstairs to his room.

  “I got some pillows from the closet. We can put them under the covers in case my parents check on us during the night,” Omar said. He gestured to the pillows that were sitting in a pile at the foot of the bed and smiled. Rahim could tell he was proud of himself.

  “What if they actually come in the room for a closer look?” Rahim asked. Omar shook his head.

  “They never do that,” Omar said.

  “First, I don’t believe that. Second, what if this is the one night they decide to do just that?” Rahim said.

  Omar ignored him and shoved the pillows under the blankets. Once he was done, he sat on the edge of his bed and frowned at Rahim.

  “Are you scared? Like, if you’re scared, tell me how to work the phone and I’ll go by myself.”

  “I’m not scared. Not really. I’m just saying do we have a backup plan,” Rahim said.

  “Sounds like something a scaredy-cat would say.”

  “I’m not a—”

  “Scaredddy-caaaat,” Omar sang.

  “I’m not a—”

  “Scaredddy-caaaat—”

  Rahim pulled out the phone. He typed in the address of the performance hall. Without saying a word, he grabbed Omar by the shoulder, and pressed enter.

  Just before the watery sensation washed over them, he heard Mr. Reynolds’s voice calling to them from the hallway.

  DOWNSTAIRS, KASIA’S MOTHER WAS sitting in the living room with Mrs. Reynolds. Kasia immediately turned around and headed back up the stairs.

  “Kasia, come here,” her mom said.

  “Sure, Mom.”

  When she walked into the living room, Mrs. Reynolds smiled at her, but it seemed weak. It never reached her eyes.

  “Kasia, do you know where Rahim is?” her mom asked.

  “I thought he was at home,” Kasia said. She didn’t look at her mother or Mrs. Reynolds.

  “I know you two are good friends. I think you guys look out for each other. I love that. I really do. But today I went into his room, and it hasn’t been slept in for days. He called this afternoon and said he was staying with someone named Tariq, but we called some of his classmates and there’s no Tariq in his class. My husband is out looking for him right now, Kasia,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “I know you don’t want to get him in trouble, but we really need to know where he is, honey.” Her eyes were red, and she was squeezing a tissue in her right hand. Kasia thought maybe she should tell her the truth. But she realized she had no way to prove that Rahim had gone back in time. Even if she called him and had him talk to his mom, it was just a voice on the other end of a phone.

  “If I hear from him, I will tell him to call you, Mrs. Reynolds,” Kasia said. She lowered her head and studied her shoes.

  “Okay. If he calls you, let him know we are not angry. We just want him to come home.” She got up and gave Kasia’s mom a hug before going out the back door.

  “Kasia,” her mom said, and patted the sofa cushion next to her.

  She plopped down beside her mom.

  “You know, when we decided to homeschool you, we knew it was going to be a challenge. You’re so smart, Button, and to be honest, I think you’re gonna be in college in just a couple years. We debated a long time about whether we should homeschool you or not. We were worried you would miss out on making friends. Then you and Rahim became best buds. You guys help each other out a lot. Now, I know you might think you’re helping him out, but if you know where he is or where he might be, you need to tell us. That’s how you really help him.”

  Kasia scuffed the toe of her sneaker against the wood floor. “I built Rahim a phone that accidentally sent him back in time, and now I’m trying to get him home.”

  Her mom tapped her index finger against her lips before she spoke. “So, this is like the X-ray specs again,” her mom said.

  “Yeah,” Kasia said. “Maybe a little worse.”

  Her mom rubbed her palms over her knees before clapping her hands together. “All right. What do we need to do to get him home?” Mom asked.

  “You believe me?”

  “Kasia, if there is one thing I’ve learned since I was lucky enough to become your mother, it is to not underestimate you.” She put her arm around Kasia and pulled her close. “Now, what do we need to do?”

  “Honestly, Mom? I just need some space.”

  “Okay. Okay, we can get you all the space you need. You can get him back, right, Button?”

  “Yeah . . . as long as he is doing exactly what I told him to do,” Kasia said.

  She hoped Rahim wasn’t doing what she told him not to, though.

  THE FIRST THING RAHIM heard when they appeared in the audience was the screams of the girls standing next to him. He heard them over the pre-recorded music that was playing while the crowd waited for the group to arrive.

  “Aaargh! Raynathan, there’s ghosts in here!” a girl cried.

  Rahim noticed the guy standing next to her was bigger than him and Omar combined. Rahim pushed Omar along just as the massive man was turning his head their way.

  “What is wrong with you, Bianca? Ain’t no such thing as ghosts,” Raynathan said.

  “I’m telling you, one minute there wasn’t nobody there, and then the next minute two kids were standing right next to me.”

  Rahim and Omar posted up next to the exit once they had worked their way through the crowd. Rahim had a brief moment where he was shocked the crowd was so small. Then he remembered it was 1997 and Four the Hard Way were just getting started. They wouldn’t hit their prime for a few more years.

  “I can’t believe we’re at a Four the Hard Way concert. This is gonna be the greatest night of my life!” Omar yelled.

  “Yeah, as long as we don’t get caught,” Rahim said.

  “Will you stop worrying? You got a magic phone. Like, it literally got us inside a concert with no tickets!”

  “First of all, it’s not magic. And don’t say that so loud. You wanna get us kicked out?” Rahim asked.

  “Who cares? We’ll just come back in again!” Omar smiled broadly.

  “I don’t know if that would be a good idea. I have to be careful how I use this thing until I can get home. I’ve already changed some stuff that didn’t need to be changed,” Rahim said.

  “What do you mean, you changed some stuff? Wait, are you from the future?!” Omar asked.

  “Huh? Did I say that? No, I’m not from the future. What are you talking about?” Rahim craned his neck toward the stage. He hoped Four the Hard Way would come out to start their show and save him from answering any of Omar’s questions.

  “Yeah, you are! Oh man, tell me! Do I go to college? Do I make a rap album? Do the Sixers ever win another title? Do I get a girlfriend?” Omar’s questions shot out fast like pellets from a paint gun. Rahim did his best to dodge them.

  “I’m not from the future, and even if I was, I couldn’t tell you. So you can just stop asking,” Rahim said.

  “Does that phone tell you what happens in the future?” Omar asked.

  Just as Rahim was trying to come up with an answer that didn’t endanger the space-time continuum, the lights in the concert hall began to dim. The crowd erupted as the first notes of Four the Hard Way’s hit “The Lords of the Flow” rumbled through the sound system. Rahim felt the excitement of the crowd cascade over them like a tidal wave.

  “Are you ready???” a disembodied voice asked. “Here they are, Too Smooth, Rock G, MC Juice, and the Sultan. Get ready for the ruckus! Here comes FOUR—THE—HARD—WAY!!!” The lights flashed on as a trio of dancers bounded onto the stage followed by all four members of the group.

  MC Juice roared, “We can rock fast or we can rock slow. It don’t really matter cuz we the Lords of the Flow!”

  Rahim knew Juice always led off the group’s songs because of his deep voice.

  Rahim felt his phone vibrating. He pulled it out of his pocket. There was no way he would be able to hear Kasia with the music blaring out of the speakers.

  Gonna have to get back to you, K, he thought. As he pushed the end button on the phone, a kid wearing a four the hard way T-shirt jumped into the air. When he came down, he slammed into Rahim’s back. The phone jumped out of his hand and skittered across the floor into the darkness of the crowd and their thunderous feet stomping in time with the music.

  THE FIRST THING KASIA thought was that Rahim was in someone’s car. There was a noise like traffic on Market Street on the other end of the line. Music and shouting rang in her ears.

  “Rahim, where are you?” Kasia asked.

  “Huh? Who dis?” a voice said.

  Kasia almost smacked herself in the head. That wasn’t Rahim. The voice on the other end of the line was deep and husky.

  “Who are you?” Kasia asked.

  “Who going to the zoo?” the voice asked.

  “No, WHO ARE YOU?” Kasia yelled into her mic.

  “Josh. Who dis?” Josh asked.

  “Where is Rahim?” Kasia yelled.

  Josh didn’t respond. She heard more yelling and more music. The beat seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Kasia heard the muffled roar of a crowd. She thought she could hear the phone clatter to the floor. There was a dizzying moment as the sound from the phone seemed to spiral out of control.

  “Rahim, what have you done?” Kasia said.

  * * *

  Rahim tried to push his way through the crowd as he followed the phone, but he was bounced around like a balloon. He bumped into a pair of girls with thick braids and huge, dangling gold earrings. They in turn pushed him into a couple of guys who were trying to perform an elaborate dance routine that involved kicks, jumps, and a particularly ridiculous shimmy. Rahim squinted his eyes and tried to focus on the electric-blue phone case. It was bouncing across the floor like a hockey puck. He watched in horror as a big guy picked it up and put it to his ear.

  “Oh man, come on!” Rahim said.

  A kid next to him clapped him on the back. “Ain’t they fly?” he said.

  Rahim slipped between two people dancing as he made his way toward the guy holding his phone. A couple of girls started dancing with the big guy. In his excitement, he juggled the big bulky device and it fell from his hand. Rahim took off running, spinning, and diving around people, sliding across the floor on his knees. He caught the phone in both hands like it was a baby before it hit the ground.

  “Gotcha!” Rahim exclaimed.

  A strange sound filled the auditorium like a long-extended groan. Rahim shoved the phone back in his pocket. He started to rise to his feet when someone next to him shouted a warning.

  “Oh snap!”

  Rahim raised his head. He was right in front of the stage. And right in front of him was the Sultan, dressed in a pair of baggy black jeans, a Raiders jersey, and a red turban. He dropped down to his haunches and was holding a microphone in front of Rahim’s face. The beat from the song was roaring from the speakers like a stampede of wild horses.

  “Sing it!” the Sultan yelled.

  Without missing a beat, Rahim screamed into the mic, “We can rock fast or we can rock slow. It don’t really matter cuz we the Lords of the Flow!”

  The crowd erupted. The whole building seemed to shake and tremble.

  I’m actually seeing Four the Hard Way live in person with my dad, Rahim thought. A huge grin spilled across his face. For the first time since he’d picked up that crazy phone, he wasn’t scared or sad or wondering what was happening. For a moment, he was just enjoying an incredible show by his favorite group with a kid who was his dad but had become his friend.

  Omar found him and slugged his shoulder.

  “This is awesome!” he said.

  “Yeah, it really is.”

  KASIA KNEW SOMETHING WAS wrong the minute she heard her dad’s voice. It had that same high whistling tone as the time he got cornered by a gigantic spider in the bathroom.

  Kasia got up from her computer and went to the top of the stairs.

  “What the heck is this in the backyard?” her dad said. The pitch of his voice climbed higher. Something about the way he was yelling made Kasia nervous.

  She ran downstairs and into the kitchen. The back door was wide open, and a frigid wind was filling the house. Kasia went to the door and poked her head outside. The cold air made her wince, but it was what she saw that made her gasp.

  Her dad was holding a bag of trash. Obviously, he’d been taking the trash out, but now that was going to be impossible. Kasia watched as the wind lifted their large blue trash can. The can paused for a moment above the hole before disappearing into the darkness.

  “Is it a sinkhole?” her mom asked. She was standing just behind her father at the bottom of the porch steps. Her flowing wrap swirled in the cold breeze. Her dad took two steps backward.

  “I don’t think so. It’s not actually in the ground,” her dad said.

  Kasia could see what her dad meant by the hole not being in the ground. She could see the frozen ground beneath the hole. The hole floated above the ground. Its interior was a swirling darkness, as if someone had pulled the drain on a sink full of ink. The edges of the hole were fuzzy and blurry. The hole itself was only about a foot above the ground and about three feet wide. Just wide enough to swallow their trash can.

  “Uh-oh,” Kasia said. Her parents turned in unison.

  “Button, you wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?” her dad said. Kasia looked at her mom. Her mom nodded.

  “I think it might be a vortex,” Kasia said.

  “A what?” her dad asked.

  “A spontaneously produced wormhole. And I think I know where it came from,” she said. “And I think it won’t be the last one we see.”

  “Does this have something to do with where Rahim went?” he asked.

  “Let’s go inside, and we can all talk about this,” her mom said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that,” her dad said. He backed away from the vortex with short, measured movements. Once he reached the steps, he stopped and tossed the trash bag toward the vortex. Just like the trash can, the bag paused for a moment before being sucked down into . . . the nothing inside the hole.

  Her dad seemed like he was in a trance. “That’s not good, is it, Button?”

  “No, Dad. I don’t think it’s good at all. It’s about as far from good as cold is from hot.”

  Her dad hurried up the steps and gently guided her mom through the door. Over her parents’ shoulders, she saw the person in the helmet. They were standing a few feet away from the vortex, arms crossed. The purple trench coat seemed to ripple in the wind like a flag. They gave Kasia a quick shake of their head.

  Then they were gone.

  The person didn’t start to glow and then disappear. They didn’t start to fade away like a cheap CGI effect. One minute, they were there. The next minute, gone.