Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories Read Online Free

if it hadn't
beeped when I walked by. At the time, I believed it was a
coincidence. I was on my way home from school. I was late. Mr.
Atkins had made me stay after to work on an essay. I'd already
written it once, but he told me I didn't put enough effort into it
and he wanted me to try again. So I got out later than the rest of
the kids. I'll bet a couple hundred kids walked right past the
beeper before I did. It was lying on the ground next to the
sidewalk, just a block away from the school. But it blended into
the dirt pretty well, so it wasn't surprising that nobody noticed
it. As I said, I would have walked right by if it hadn't
beeped.
    But it did beep. I stopped when I heard the
sound. I really didn't know what I was hearing, but it seemed
familiar. I searched around, then finally found the beeper. It was
a small box, about half the size of a deck of cards, and there was
one of those little windows on one side like they have on
calculators.
    It stopped beeping as soon as I picked it
up. There wasn't any message in the window.
    I stood there for a minute, holding the
beeper and wondering what to do with it. The right thing would be
to try to find the owner. I had no idea how to do that. I thought
about just putting it back where I'd found it. I actually started
to bend down and place it back on the ground.
    As I reached toward the spot where it had
been, it beeped again. Just one short beep. I stood up checked the
display window. There was still nothing showing.
    I figured I'd bring it with me and ask my
folks what to do after they came home from work. So I put the
beeper in my shirt pocket and walked the rest of the way to our
apartment.
    My friend Max was waiting for me on the
front steps. "I thought you'd never get here."
    "Look what I found." I showed him the
beeper.
    "Cool," Max said.
    It beeped again. This time there was a
number in the window. "Let's call it," I said. "Maybe we can find
out who this belongs to."
    We went inside and I dialed the number.
After four rings, I heard the click of an answering machine. "I
can't come to the phone right now," the voice said. "Please leave a
message when you hear the tone."
    I hesitated, not knowing what to say.
Finally, I hung up without saying anything.
    "Well?" Max asked.
    I told him about the message. The beeper
beeped again. I dialed the new number. It was another answering
machine. This time, the message said, "Need a new roof? You've
called the right place. Leave your number and we'll get back to
you."
    I hung up again. "This is weird," I told
Max. "I think the number is supposed to be someone who's just
called the beeper. Right? But nobody is home at these places."
    Max shrugged. The beeper beeped. I looked at
the number. Why not , I thought. I dialed again. No surprise
— another recording. "To leave a message for John, press one. To
leave a message for Karen, press two."
    I hung up. The beeper beeped. The next call
told us, "Be back soon — leave a message if you want."
    "I think it's broken," I said. "It's
probably just putting up any number."
    "Yeah," Max said. "Maybe it got wet."
    The beeper beeped. I dialed almost before I
realized what I was doing. Sure enough, another message, "Buried
under a ton of work? We can help you with secretaries and other
office personnel. Leave your number and we'll get back to you."
    "Man, this doesn't make any sense," I said.
"I've got better things to do than to make all these calls. Maybe I
should just put it back where I found it."
    "Yeah," Max said. "Or you can toss it in the
trash."
    I looked at the can. And I thought about the
messages. I wrote them down.
    I can't come to the phone right now.
    Need a new roof?
    To leave a message for John, press one.
    Be back soon — leave a message if you
want.
    Buried under a ton of work?
    As I stared at them and saw the pattern, I
felt my blood freeze in my body. My hand fell open and the beeper
clattered to the floor.
    "What's wrong?" Max asked.
    "Look." I pointed to the messages