Edison's Gold by Geoff Watson

film,” said Colby. “Maybe we can borrow one from school.”
    â€œOr maybe there’s a place to rent one?” offered Noodle.
    Tom shook his head. Those options would either cost money, which none of them had, or come with too many grown-ups asking questions. Plus, somehow he knew this movie film wouldn’t work on a regular projector. It felt too simple for the Sub Rosa.
    â€œMaybe your pops can help us,” added Noodle. “Scientist-wise, I mean.”
    â€œNo parents,” Tom snapped. “We need another game plan.”
    The truth was, he wanted to share this discovery with his dad more than anything, but he couldn’t risk his parents ending their journey, or worse, handing these strange artifacts over to the police or a museum, neither of which could be trusted.
    â€œNo one else really uses film projectors anymore, except movie theaters.” Colby stuck a pencil through the center of the record and gave it a spin. “Not to mention we need to find an antique phonograph, too.”
    â€œI
am
related to the guy who invented one of those, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some projector parts lying around here somewhere.”
    Tom took off to a corner of the basement lab known as the scrap heap, where everything from a barely used metronome to a collection of discarded toaster-oven coils lay in a messy heap of randomness. He immediately grabbed a kitchen funnel, a thingamabob, and a lead pipe from the pile, then tried to fit all sorts of different parts to one another—a trumpet to a pipe, a speaker to a magnet—but quickly realized none of those components were going to work. In fact, he had absolutely zero idea how to construct either a phonograph or a movie projector.
    â€œGuess my family connection doesn’t count for much,” Tom admitted as he returned to the others, unable to let go of the funnel and pipe in case fleeting inspiration struck.
    â€œWhat about Snert?” Colby snapped her fingers. “Not only can he fix anything, but I bet you next week’s allowance he’s watching a movie right now.”
    â€œSnert!” Noodle said. “He’s like the original AV geek.”
    â€œSnert,” Tom echoed.
    Nicholas Snert. The weirdest kid in the sixth grade. Hewas a year younger than Tom, Noodle, and Colby—but he was enrolled in so many advanced classes, it was like he was two grades higher. He stood on the highest plane of geekdom and collected everything from bugs to bugles. His real passion, though, was movies.
    â€œThat could be the best idea, or possibly the worst,” Tom determined. “And I’m not that excited about bringing someone else in on our secret.”
    â€œWho said anything about bringing him in? We’ll invite him to watch movies. We just won’t tell him what kind. I say best idea,” said Noodle.
    â€œI say best, too,” Colby added. “Only because we’re running out of options. And time.”

T he following morning, the round, freckled bowling ball also known as Snert was standing in the middle of Tom’s basement looking like he’d just returned from a lost weekend with rogue clowns. His socks didn’t match, his hair was a bird’s nest, and there was a light orange film of Cheez Doodle dust on his upper lip.
    On the positive side, the boy genius had made good on his promise, and a large portion of what looked to be an obsolete movie projector rested by his feet.
    Snert had sounded excited when they’d spoken on the phone the night before and didn’t mind interrupting his own fifteen-hour
Lord of the Rings
marathon to help out. “I’ve done this marathon like seven times already,” said Snert. “Guess that makes me Lord of the Marathon. AndI think I can get my hands on what you’re talking about. A classic Kodascope projector that could play a sixteen-millimeter reel? Yup, I just might be your man.”
    Tom’s