Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard (27 page)

“I-I ’ll take that pencil and eraser now,” Farley said, stepping back nervously.

Unfortunately, he backed right into a tall, revolving, wire rack filled with postcards and the sleeve of his jacket got caught on the display. A sharp jerk of his arm freed his sleeve, but (accidentally) sent the card rack spinning and falling toward the ranger!

Ranger Gary put his hands up to stop it, as post-cards flew every-which-way. After a brief scuffle (resembling a clumsy waltz) he was successful in righting the rack. He stood back, hands on hips; breathing heavily, as he surveyed the mess with pursed lips.

“S-sorry, Ranger Gary,” Farley said. “I’ll pick up the cards and put ‘em all back.”

The ranger shook his head. “That’s all right, son. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. Tell you what— it’s late. Why don’t you go on out to your parents. I can take care of this mess tomorrow,” he said kindly.

“You sure it’s okay? I’m sorta use-ta cleaning up messes.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m no stranger to messes, myself. Get a lot of school groups coming through here, you know. Take the pencil and eraser with you—my treat.”

“Thanks, Ranger Gary! You’re the best ranger in the whole world!” Farley said sincerely.

Grabbing a random pencil, he quickly exited the station, with Yap at his heels.

Fiona peered through a wall of woven straw, from her hiding place inside the Indian hut. She watched the ranger shake his head as he went into his office, returning shortly with his jacket and keys. She held her breath, when he paused in the doorway for a final look-around. His eyes swung in her direction and she crouched down further; freezing like a hunted animal. The moment stretched out, agonizingly long, before Ranger Gary turned off the lights and left, locking the door behind him.

Fiona waited until the low rumble of the ranger’s car faded away. Then, emerging from her hiding place, she crossed quickly to the door and stood looking through the glass. Soon, she saw Farley appear, racing up the walkway with Yap at his side. He was glancing back over his shoulder, as if something was chasing him! She unlocked the door, and held it open, as he dashed inside, huffing and puffing.

“Something’s out there!” Farley managed to say between breaths. “I think itsa mountain lion!”

“Oh, pooh,” Fiona said dismissively, as she closed the door firmly and locked it. “Ranger Gary’s wild animal stories got you spooked.”

“Huh! Show’s what
you
know! These woods are
full
of wild animals!”

“Maybe so, but most of them are probably just as scared of us, as we are of them.”

“I’m telling you, I’m sure I heard something following me!”

They both turned, to look through the glass door at the gathering gloom. Suddenly, a dark shape appeared out of nowhere and flung itself against the door!

The children shrieked; jumping back as the creature scratched at the door, its claws making an awful, screeching sound against the glass. Its large eyes glowed with wild, green light. Its small, sharp, white teeth flashed, as it opened its mouth wide and howled like a banshee!

“It’s my kitty!” Fiona said in surprise. “What’s
he
doing here?”

“I dunno, but it looks like he
really
wants to come in,” Farley observed.

Fiona hurried over to unlock the door for her pet. The frightened animal squeezed through before it was barely open. It streaked across the floor, skidding on the polished floorboards. Then, claws scrabbling madly, it whirled about to face the kids.

“Close the door! Quick-as-a-shot!” Tom shouted at Fiona. “There’s a mountain lion in the parking lot!”

But Fiona just stood there, staring at him with a stunned expression on her face. The cat flung himself at the door to shut it, then quickly reached up; flicking the locking mechanism down with a curved claw. He turned to look at the children, both of whom had backed away. They stood together eying him with open astonishment.

“Meow?” he said, belatedly.

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not my kitty,” she said accusingly. “What are you—a kid in a cat suit?”

“Maybe it’s some kinda robot—like they use in the movies,” said Farley.

“The question
is
,” Fiona said coldly, taking a step toward the cat, “what is it doing
here
?”

“Wait!” Farley grabbed her arm. “It might be dangerous!” He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his father’s knife. “Alright, kitty!” he said, opening the little knife and pointing it at the creature. “Talk!

Tom sighed. “Well, kids, looks like you got me. Truth is, I’m a Bungaree.”

“What’s a Bungaree?” Farley asked.

“And why do you look like my kitty?” asked Fiona.

“Because that’s what I am,” Tom replied. Quick as a wink, he spun into his other form. “Tom Foolery, at your service ma’am!” He bowed deeply in Fiona’s direction.

“Whoa,” said Farley.

The children stared, wide-eyed, at the strange creature that had appeared in place of the familiar, chubby, orange tabby. Cat-like, yet definitely
not
a cat; it stood upright on two legs and was clothed in a tunic, knickers and little leather boots! Oversized, lime-green eyes peered anxiously out of its oddly-Human face; while its large, triangular ears and long, white whiskers twitched nervously.

“Mr. Faire hired me, you see. To look after you and protect the family. You snuck away, so I couldn’t stay.”

Farley giggled. “Hey, that rhymes.”

Tom performed another elaborate bow. “A Bungaree specialty!”

Fiona was not amused. She crossed her arms and walked around him slowly, inspecting the creature from every angle. Finally, she stopped directly in front of him.

“I watch Animal Planet
and
Nat Geo. So how come I’ve never seen a Bungaree before?”

“Not all there is to see, is on TV,” Tom replied. “The real world is full of secrets, like a treasure chest. Digging them up—
that’s
what I do best!”

“Seems to me,
you’re
the one full of secrets,” Fiona retorted.

“Ya got
that
right! You’re as sharp as a tack. I’ve got so many secrets, I can barely keep track.” Tom puffed out his chest and held his tail high. “And I don’t let ‘em go for nothing, no-sir-ree! No one can pry a secret out of
me
!
That’s
the way of the Bungaree.”

“If you’re so good at keeping secrets, how are we supposed to know if you’re telling the truth now?” Fiona asked shrewdly.

Tom scratched his head with a claw and frowned. “I know!” he said, snapping his fingers. “We can call your father, that’s how. Besides, he must be pretty worried by now.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Fiona said flatly. “We have to rescue Farley’s parents and my dad would just make us go home. Besides, we left them a note explaining everything.” She put her hands on her hips, and eyed the creature dispassionately. “If you can’t prove you’re telling the truth, you’re going right back out that door.”

“We-e-ell, if you’re looking for confirmation, there
is
one other who can supply information,” Tom said, reluctantly.

“Who?” the kids asked together.

“Yap!” Tom said.

“Yap?” The children’s eyebrows shot up.

Farley turned to look for his dog. He spotted him, sitting by the ranger’s counter, an innocent expression on his furry, little, puppy face. His ears were flattened back against his skull and his tail thumped the floor nervously, as all eyes focused on him.

“C’mere boy,” said Farley.

Dutifully, the little dog crawled forth on his belly.

Farley squatted down beside him, scratching behind the pup’s ears to reassure him.

“What does Yap have to do with anything? He’s just a puppy.”

“Not exactly,” Tom said wryly. “The jig is up! Show ‘em what you’re made of, pup,” he told the young Gr-r-rog.

Yap looked from Tom to Farley, confusion apparent in his big, brown eyes.

“You tell him,” Tom told Farley. “He has no choice, once he hears his master’s voice.”

“Tell him what?”

“Why, to change, like me. Then you’ll see.”

“You mean
he’s
a Bungaree too?”

“
I’m
not a Bungaree!” Yap sputtered petulantly. Then, his furry face acquired a stricken look and he put his front paws over his head. “Rats, I did it again!”

Farley gasped and fell over backwards.

Fiona came forward to stare at the once familiar animal. “What
are
you?” she asked.

Yap looked out from under his paws. “I’m not sposed ta tell,” he said glumly. “Rule number two—I gotta use dish-cresh-shun.”

“It’s not your fault, pup. I’m the one who messed up.” Tom consoled him. “Besides, there are times when a confession, is the better part of discretion.”

“Aw, I’ll never get the hanga this spy stuff,” Yap moaned. “Well, here goes nuttin!”

Standing on all fours, he began chasing his tail in a furry, blurry circle. When he stopped, a young Gr-r-r-og stood before them.

“Wow!” said Farley, properly impressed. He got up on his knees and looked into the little creature’s big, brown eyes. “I always wished you could talk to me,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

“You’re not mad?” Yap asked, furry brow furrowed.

“Heck no! I probably got the world’s one and only talking dog!”

“Axshully, I’m not really a dog. I’m a Gr-r-r-og.”

“A Grog?”

“No, a Gr-r-r-og!”

Yap attempted to coach Farley into pronouncing the rolling “r”s, until Fiona interrupted.

“I don’t see how Yap being a—what
ever
—proves that
Tom
is telling the truth,” she said.

“We work together, just us two, to keep an eye on the both of you. Go on, ask the pup. He can back my story up,” Tom told her.

“ ’strue! Tom helps me out cuz I’m kinda new at this stuff. We’re partners!” Yap said enthusiastically.

“So, what you’re saying is, my dad hired Yap, to look after Farley,” Fiona said skeptically.

“Nah,
I
don’t work for Mr. Faire.
I
work for Barfoleumous the Bold!” Yap puffed out his furry chest proudly. “I’m his spy in the Bumblestook house. He tol’ my mom I was
perfek
for the job!”

“But why?” Farley asked, truly bewildered. “He’s not
my
uncle.”

“Barfoleumous says you’re
special
.”

“Aw jeez, not
that
again!” Farley groaned.

A tiny, almost imperceptible line appeared above Fiona’s nose, precisely in the middle of her beautiful, but troubled eyes. “It sounds like he knows about your Super Powers, Farley. And since he’s my uncle, he probably knows about mine, too.” She paced back and forth, arms crossed tightly about her chest, head bowed in thought, in front of the odd little group.

“What’s the matter?” Farley asked.

Fiona raised one perfect brow, as she looked at him, kneeling between the Gr-r-rog and Bungaree.

“You mean, besides the fact that my pet cat that I’ve known since I was a baby turns out to be some weird creature that I’ve never even heard of and my uncle is using another weird creature to spy on my best friend?” she rattled off wryly.

Farley snorted. “When you put it that way, it does sound pretty awful! But, Yap protected me against that shadow thing
and
the guy in my house. I know I can trust him. And don’t you always say that your cat is so much smarter than other people’s cats?”

“Ye-e-s.”

“Well, now you know why! The way I see it, these guys’ve been our friends all along—and they still are. They just
look
different. Plus they can talk! I bet any other kid would give up dessert for a year to have a talking pet!”

“Maybe,” Fiona said grudgingly.

“Besides, now they can help us find my parents. Hey! Since we’re like Super Heroes, they can be our sidekicks.”

Tom put up his hands. “I am
not
wearing a costume,” he said.

Fiona shot the Bungaree a speculative look. “H-m-m-m, maybe this won’t be so bad after all. I guess I could get used to a talking cat. Do I still call you Kitty?”

“To put it precisely,
Tom
would do nicely, ” replied the Bungaree.

“Alright—Tom.” Fiona said.

Farley, still kneeling on the floor in front of the Gr-r-rog, looked up at Fiona. “If these guys are gonna be our partners, we better let them in on the plan. What’s next on the list?”

Fiona slung off her backpack and reached into it.

“We’re supposed to call my uncle,” she said, palming the cool crystal and running her thumb over its smooth facets. “But now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” She looked at the Bungaree. “What do you think Uncle Bartholeumous would do, if we called him right now?”

“What do I think? He’d fetch you back home, quick as a wink.”

“That’s what I thought.” Fiona said, dropping the crystal back into the depths of the pack.

Tom frowned. “I don’t understand why he isn’t here, by now. He must have gotten distracted, somehow.”

“Whataya mean?” Farley asked. “How would he know we’re here? We didn’t have time to call him.”

Tom looked at Yap, who avoided his eyes and looked at the floor.

“Yap?” Farley asked, as all eyes turned, once again, on the little Gr-r-rog.

“Oh-h-h-h, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno what to do-o-o!” the creature whined, looking back and forth, between Tom and his master, beseechingly.

“You don’t know what to do about what?” Farley asked.

“My Mission Orders! I gotta be loy-a-lal!”

“What’s he talking about?” Fiona asked Tom.

“Loyalty to his Mission—it’s a spy thing. But, Yap serves
two
masters, so it gets confusing.” Tom replied. He turned to the young Gr-r-rog, who looked to him for guidance. “Your Mission Orders are to be Bartholeumous’ eyes and ears in the Bumblestook house, day and night.” (Yap nodded vigorously.) “But, since Farley is your master, you are duty-bound to protect and obey him
too—
right
?”

Yap nodded again. “An’ I was
sposed
ta stay in disguise an’ I didn’t even do
that
!” the little creature said miserably.