A Whole Nother Story (19 page)

“Don’t worry, Ethan,” said Jibby, his hand on Mr. Cheeseman’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“I sometimes bite my toenails!” Mr. 5 revealed.

“Get this no-good toenail biter out of here,” said Jibby to Aristotle and Three-Eyed Jake. “Put him with the others.”

With little regard for the man’s badly damaged leg, Aristotle and Three-Eyed Jake each took an arm and dragged Mr.5 back toward the bus, ignoring his frequent outbursts of agony and bizarre confessions.

“Cheer up, Dad,” said Maggie. “We won. We got them before they got us.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Cheeseman with a weak smile. “You’re right.”

But Ethan did not feel much like celebrating. Sure, Mr. 5 and his Plexiwave compatriots had been captured, and Pavel Dushenko had been left helpless with a gunshot wound to the leg, but the coats were still hot on their trail, and that meant only one thing. Just by looking at her father’s face, Maggie knew exactly what that one thing was.

“So I guess we have to move away again,” she said.

“I’m afraid so,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Our cover’s been blown. Until the LVR is up and running, we’ve got no choice but to keep moving.”

The news fell heavily on the ears of his three children, who, in the short time they’d lived in their new town, had come to like it very much. But now Gerard would have to relinquish his membership in the secret spy fort, Maggie would have to say good-bye to her new friend and art teacher, Aurora, and Jough would have to, once again, put his baseball career on hold.

“Can we at least go back home and get our stuff?” asked Jough.

“That won’t be possible,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “We don’t know who might be waiting for us. This time we’ll have to leave with nothing but our good health and just be thankful we’ve still got that.”

“But how can we leave without my dirt clod collection?” said Gerard.

“And how can we leave without my baseball glove?” said Jough.

“More importantly,” said Maggie, “how can we leave without a car?”

“There’s a large white moving van in that warehouse that no one seems to be using. And enough room in back that I won’t have to disassemble the LVR this time. I can load it up in one piece.”

“Where will you go?” asked Jake.

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Another town in another part of the country.”

“Will you ever come back?” Elliot asked Jough, who turned to his father.

“I don’t know. Dad? Will we?”

“It’s hard to say. Anything’s possible.” This seemed to be Mr. Cheeseman’s way of saying that it was most unlikely that they would ever come back.

After an awkward silence during which everyone studied the distant horizon or the tops of their shoes, Elliot stepped toward Jough, his right hand extended.

“Well, good luck, Jough. It was very nice meeting you.”

“Same here,” said Jough. “If I ever make it to the major leagues, I’ll give you a call.”

“I’d appreciate that,” said Elliot.

“It’s the least I could do,” said Jough. “If you hadn’t let us borrow your dad’s car, who knows what might have happened.”

“All right,” said Ethan. “Let’s get the LVR loaded up and ready to go before the wrong people show up here.”

“No!” said Gerard, angrily stabbing at the ground with his foot. “I’m not leaving without my dirt clods!”

“We’ve got no choice, Gerard,” said Mr. Cheeseman.“I’m nsorry.”

“You’re always sorry,” squeaked Steve. “And I’m sick of it.”

“Grrrr,” Pinky growled at the sock puppet.

It was at that moment that Steve decided he had had just about enough of being growled at by a hairless fox terrier.

“You be quiet,” he squeaked, moving in close to Pinky’s snarling face for emphasis. “I’m tired of you growling at me all the time.”

And it was at that moment that Pinky decided she had had just about enough of a snarky, one-eyed sock puppet squeaking so loudly and so closely to her face. And so, she reached out with her snarling teeth and bit Steve firmly on the area that would have been reserved for his nose if he indeed had a nose.

Gerard screamed as Pinky tore the sock puppet from his hand.

“No, Pinky! No!”

At this point, Pinky was beyond listening. With her nails and teeth, she tore and ripped at the helpless sock puppet as Gerard could only watch in horror.

It took mere seconds to complete her murderous act. Pinky then walked over to Gerard and gently licked his newly exposed left hand.

“Get away,” said Gerard angrily. “Get away from me. Look what she did. She killed Steve.”

Everyone was indeed looking at what remained of Steve. They were looking in shock and amazement because, amid that pile of torn-up yarn and thread was a small mint green piece of paper.

“Dad?” said Jough, scarcely able to breathe.

“I see it,” said Mr. Cheeseman.

He moved toward it slowly, as if any sudden movement might frighten it away. The children watched as their father lowered himself to one knee and picked up the piece of paper, which had been folded down the middle. Slowly, he unfolded the paper and, when he read what had been written on it, he broke down and sobbed right there in the middle of that dusty lot, his tears forming mud on the ground beneath him.

Without looking up, Mr. Cheeseman handed the piece of paper to Jough, who took it and studied it.

“What?” said Maggie impatiently. “What does it say?”

“It says,” Jough began, choking back a large lump in his throat. “It says,
don’t be afraid, be amazing.
”

Mr. Cheeseman wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and stood up. He reached into his back pocket and removed the other half of the mint green paper and gave it to Jough, who positioned the two halves side by side and read aloud.

“When danger lurks and your heart is racing, don’t be afraid, be amazing.”

The code, as Maggie had originally suspected, had been ciphered as a bit of wisdom from their mother and was just the kind of advice they might have expected from the woman who saw so much in them.

Smiling as he hadn’t in years, Mr. Cheeseman gathered his children in his arms. “You kids
were
amazing today,” he said. “In fact, you’ve been amazing throughout this whole ordeal. But today? Today was something else. Gerard? ”Mr. Cheeseman roughed up Gerard’s spiky head. “I think that was probably the most heroic use of bubble gum in the whole entire history of bubble gum.”

Gerard smiled and Mr. Cheeseman turned to Maggie. “And Maggie . . . those archery lessons turned out to be the best money I ever spent. That was a heck of a shot.”

“But how did you . . . ?”

“I saw you from the back window of the car. Incredible shot. Absolutely incredible.” It was Maggie’s turn to smile and Mr. Cheeseman smiled back, then put his hand on Jough’s shoulder.

“Jough?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“That was, without a doubt, the best getaway driving I have ever seen.”

“Thanks,” said Jough, feeling like a real man of action.

“It was nothing, really.”

“It was something. Your mother would have been very proud of you three.”

Gerard cleared his throat. Mr. Cheeseman looked down at his youngest child, then followed the boy’s gaze to the ragged tatters of yarn that had once been Steve, lying in the dirt. “Sorry, Gerard. You’re right.”

Mr. Cheeseman crouched next to Gerard and gently scooped what was left of the one-eyed sock puppet into his hands. “Your friend Steve gave his life today to save that of another. Your mother would have been very proud of you all.”

“You mean she
will
be very proud of us,” said Jough, holding up the two pieces of paper.

“Yes,” said Mr. Cheeseman with a quiet smile. “She will be very proud of you.”

SOME QUICK ADVICE FOR SUCCESS IN LIFE

CHAPTER 24

A
ccording to Gerard, it was Steve’s wish that, in the event of his demise, he be cremated, his ashes scattered in the wind and recommitted to the earth. And so, as his surviving friends and relatives gathered in the warehouse parking lot, near the old black school bus, Captain Jibby volunteered to say a few words.

“As the captain of a seafaring vessel,” he said, “I am fully authorized to perform weddings, funerals, and minor surgery.” He flipped open the knife on his Swiss Army hand for effect.

“I thought you were the captain of a school bus,” said Maggie.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” he said, snapping the knife back.“But I was once the captain of a ship. A very long time ago.”

“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” said Mr. Cheeseman, “but I think we need to do this quickly. We’ve really got to get moving.”

“And I need to get my dad’s car home before he freaks out,” said Elliot.

“Right,” said Jibby. “On with it then.” Jibby bowed his head and the others did likewise. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to honor a great soul. Steve was a sock of strong fiber and great bravery. A sock who died in the service of friends and family, for which there is no more noble a cause. May he rest in peace and may his spirit live on in our hearts forever.”

Jibby nodded to Dizzy, who struck a match and lit the small pile of twigs and dry grass on which lay the deceased. He then turned and nodded to Juanita, who walked forward and handed him his fiddle.

Jibby placed the instrument beneath his bright, overgrown chin and began to play a sad but beautiful melody. Slowly, the flames grew and consumed Steve’s remains. As the fire finally died out, so did the music, leaving nothing to the ear but the wind whistling through the tall grass and the gentle sniffing of noses.

“That was beautiful,” said Mr. Cheeseman with a sniff of his own.

“I call it ‘Requiem for a Sock Puppet,’ ” said Jibby.

“Thank you. For everything. I wish there was some way we could repay you for all you’ve done.”

“Actually,” said Jibby, “now that you mention it, there is a favor I’d like to ask of you.”

“Anything,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Anything at all.”

“I was wondering if you might give us a ride.”

“A ride? But you’ve got your bus and . . .”

“No,” said Jibby. “I mean I was wondering if you might give us a ride . . . in the time machine.”

For a moment, Mr. Cheeseman was at a complete loss for words.

“You mean the dime machine,” Jough quickly interjected.

“No, I mean the time machine. We’ve known about it for quite some . . . well, for quite some time.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Cheeseman, willing to drop the charade. “Who are you then? CIA? KGB?”

“Actually,” said Three-Eyed Jake, “we’re privateers.”

“What’s a privateer?” asked Gerard.

“A privateer,” said Mr. Cheeseman in a very serious tone, “is a pirate.”

Upon hearing this, one thing immediately crossed the minds of Jough, Maggie, and Gerard. Pirates steal things. Had it been a mistake to trust Captain Jibby? Had it been his intention all along to steal the LVR? Were his hearty laugh and pleasing personality merely a facade? Deep down, were he and his friends no better than Plexiwave and its agents of evil?

“You’re pirates?” said Elliot with a roll of his eyes. “Pardon my skepticism, but everyone knows there are no pirates around here.”

“True enough,” said Three-Eyed Jake, taking a step in Elliot’s direction. “But we’re not from around here.”

Elliot took a step back and suddenly wished he had kept his thoughts to himself.

“Well, if you’re not from around here, then where are you from?” asked Gerard.

Three-Eyed Jake turned to Captain Jibby, looking for permission to answer the question. Jibby nodded ever so slightly, and Jake went on. “We’re from a place very far away,” he said. “A little place called 1668.”

This wasn’t much of an answer as far as Mr. Cheeseman and his children were concerned. This answer only resulted in more questions.

“Sixteen sixty-eight?” Gerard repeated. “But which street?”

“No, no lad. It’s not an address,” said Jibby. “It’s a time. The year 1668, that’s where we’re from.”

As the words left his mouth, a tension seemed to leave Jibby’s body. It appeared that keeping that bit of information a secret had been weighing on him for some time.

“I don’t understand,” said Maggie, considering the possibility that Jibby was either lying or completely insane.“If you’re from 1668, how did you end up here?”

“It’s all part of the curse,” Three-Eyed Jake said in an intense, whispery kind of voice. “The curse of the White Gold Chalice.”

“What’s a chalice?” asked Gerard.

“It’s a cup,” said Maggie.

“I beg your pardon, young lady,” said Jibby, “but the White Gold Chalice is more than just a cup. For centuries it was used by Danish kings and is said to have been passed down from the mighty hand of Odin himself.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Cheeseman, wanting desperately to believe. “But that doesn’t explain how you all ended up here.”

“Oh, but it does,” said Jibby. “It explains everything. Because the White Gold Chalice, you see, is said to carry a terrible curse that afflicts anyone who wrongfully possesses it, which, in this case, would be us.”

Jibby untied a small leather pouch attached to his belt. From the pouch he removed what looked like a trophy, the kind that might be presented to the winner of a horse race, a golf tournament, or a pie-eating contest. It was a cup, silver in color with a fluted lip and strange symbols molded along its base.

“So then . . . you stole it?” said Jough.

“Foolish, I know,” said Jibby, looking somewhat ashamed. It should be noted that shame is not an emotion one normally associates with pirates. This, along with the fact that Pinky was curled up at Jibby’s feet, helped put Mr. Cheeseman at ease.

“Stealing is never a good idea,” Jibby continued, looking at his reflection in the polished surface of the cup. “Neither is tempting fate, for no sooner had we taken the chalice than a hellish storm circled about our ship. The mighty
Bella Juanita
was struck by lightning no fewer than a dozen times.”

“You were struck by lightning?” gasped Maggie.

“Aye,” said Jibby with an involuntary shudder. Three-Eyed Jake and the rest of Jibby’s crew also shuddered.

“Does it hurt to get struck by lightning?” said Gerard.

“Well, it doesn’t help,” said Jibby, the smile returning to his face.

“So that’s how you ended up here?” asked Jough, every bit as skeptical as his friend Elliot but too polite to come right out with it.

“It would seem to be the case,” said Jibby. “Transported through time on a wickedly powerful bolt of electricity.”

Jough turned to his father. “Dad? Is that even possible?”

“Scientifically speaking, electromagnetic kinesis has never been ruled out as a possibility. So it certainly could be true.”

“Oh, it’s true all right,” said Jibby. “Or my name isn’t Gentleman Jibby Lodbrok.”

This bit of information caused Jough to look at Maggie and the both of them to look at their father.

“Lodbrok?” said Ethan. “That’s my wife’s maiden name.”

“Olivia,” said Jibby. “She would be our great-great-great-great-granddaughter if I’m not mistaken.”

“Our?” asked Maggie.

“Juanita and me. Say hello to your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.”

Juanita moved to her husband’s side and he placed his non–Swiss Army hand on her shoulder.

“You mean,” Gerard began excitedly, “that we’re the dentists of pirates?”

“I think you mean we’re the descendants of pirates,”Maggie corrected her brother.

“Ex-pirates,” Jibby corrected Maggie. “We’ve given up our thieving ways once and for all, which wasn’t easy. After all, it’s in my blood. My own roots can be traced back to Ragnor Lodbrok, the great Viking raider of the eighth century.”

“Wait a minute,” said Gerard. “You mean we’re the descendants of pirates
and
Vikings? I don’t believe it. This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Everyone laughed, which made Gerard quite pleased with himself, as it wasn’t always easy to make grown-ups laugh.

“Pardon me for saying so, Jibby,” said Ethan, “but the whole thing sounds quite fantastic.”

“Yes,” agreed Jibby. “It does. And so does a machine resembling a disco ball that can travel through time. But I believe with every bone in my body that it is also true, because my good man Aristotle saw it in a vision and led us to you, or you to us. And I believe you folks are the only ones who can help us to go back in time, to that fateful day in 1668 before we stole the chalice. It’s the only way to break the curse that has plagued us and our descendants all these years.”

“Hold on,” said Jough with annoyance. “You mean all this bad stuff has happened to us because you stole that chalice?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Jibby. “And for that, I apologize and beseech your forgiveness.”

Jough’s expression softened, and Maggie smiled. “It’s okay, Jibby,” she said. “You’re our friend, and friends always forgive one another.”

“Thank you. So what do you say, then? Will you take us with you? If we’re able to lift the curse, I’m sure things will go a lot easier for you.”

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “I’m not sure the machine’s big enough for all of us. Besides, it’s never been tested. It works in theory, but scientifically speaking, who knows what might happen?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Jough.

“You’re right, Jough,” said Ethan. “There’s only one way to find out.”

A rumbling noise echoed through the empty warehouse as Mr. Cheeseman hoisted up the back door of the white cargo van to reveal the LVR, fully assembled and awaiting entry of the computer code he hoped would turn it from a giant oblong disco ball into a fully functioning time machine.

“Magnificent,” said Aristotle at first sight of the LVR.“Just as she appeared in my vision.”

“She’s a beauty, all right,” Jibby agreed. “A finer ship I’ve yet to see.”

“Well,” said Ethan, climbing into the cargo hold of the van. “Let’s see if she works as good as she looks.”

“Do we need to take it out of the truck first?” asked Jough.

“Shouldn’t matter,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Either way, our first order of business is to enter the code. Should take just a second to decipher the other half.”

Mr. Cheeseman removed a pencil from his shirt pocket, then took the mint green piece of paper that had been hidden inside Steve. Quickly, he scribbled a number beneath each letter on the paper. When he had finished, he looked it over carefully.

“There,” he said. “That should do it. We’re ready to enter the code into the computer. And Jough?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“I’d like to extend that honor to you.”

Jough suddenly felt more like an adult than he ever had before. “Thanks, Dad. But don’t you think . . . ?” Jough nodded in the direction of his little brother.

“Yes,” said Maggie. “I think Steve would have wanted it that way.”

“You’re right,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Gerard? Would you like to enter the code?”

The thought of being responsible for something of such importance made Gerard both very proud and very nervous. “But . . . what if I make a mistake?”

“Then we’ll all be blown to smithereens,” said Maggie with a horrified look.

“Is that true, Dad?” said Gerard doubtfully.

“It’s not true,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “But I feel as if we’re running out of time here. So don’t make a mistake.”

Gerard looked at the van, not sure how he was expected to get his short body up and into the cargo hold.

“Allow me,” said Sammy, stepping forward. With one hand he easily lifted the boy up next to his father.

“Thanks, Sammy,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Oh, and Jibby?”

“Aye, sir,” said Jibby with a quick salute.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be needing a screwdriver.”

Jibby removed his hand and, well, handed it to Mr. Cheeseman, who pulled out the screwdriver and used it to remove a small panel on the side of the LVR. Beneath the panel was a keypad.

“I’ll read out the numbers,” Mr. Cheeseman said to Gerard. “And you enter them here. Got it?”

“Got it.”

As Mr. Cheeseman read out the numbers, each corresponding to a letter in the note, Gerard carefully punched those numbers into the computer.

“That’s it,” said Mr. Cheeseman when the final number had been entered. “Now let’s keep our fingers crossed. See that switch, Gerard?”

Next to the keypad was a small red switch. Written beneath it was the word
Power
. “Hit it,” said Mr. Cheeseman.

Gerard took a deep breath and moved his finger slowly toward the switch. Maggie and Jough could scarcely bear to watch. After all, this was it. Should the LVR fail to work, they would most likely never see their mother alive again.

Jibby and his crew had their own reasons for being nervous. This was likely their only chance to break the curse that had plagued the Lodbrok bloodline for centuries.

Gerard’s finger reached the switch. He paused for a moment and looked at his father.