Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang (4 page)

Rusty can in hand, Jacob Two-Two bailed furiously, for the murky waters, he quickly saw, were infested with bloodthirsty sharks and slimy crocodiles, their jaws snapping hungrily. And it was no better once they reached the opposite shore, where the first thing to greet Jacob Two-Two was a slithering snake.

“Poisonous, of course,” said Master Fish.

The children’s prison, Jacob Two-Two learned, was built on a marshy island in the foggiest part of England, a place where the sun never shone. The only birds that ever flew over the island were buzzards, and the land could support no animal life other than gray wolverines with yellow snaggle teeth and millions of deathwatch beetles. There were no flowers, boasted Master Fish, but nettles thrived everywhere, hiding the quicksand, added Mistress Fowl.

The prison itself, Jacob Two-Two saw, was built of clammy gray stone. As he approached, its ugly towers, choked with vines that yielded poisonous blackberries, rose gloomily into the never-ending fog.

“Home, sweet home,” cried Mistress Fowl.

CHAPTER 6

inally, they reached the gates of the children’s prison, where an enormous flashing sign proclaimed:

Underneath, neon blood dripped into a seething, steaming cauldron, and a perpetual laughing machine cackled “
Ho! Ho! Ho!
”

Once inside the prison, Master Fish and Mistress Fowl thrust Jacob Two-Two into the warden’s lair. The warden was known as The Hooded Fang. Jacob Two-Two, looking very pale, discovered him sprawled on the floor, smelly and unshaven, sharpening his fangs by gnawing on a beef bone, a marrow bone. The Hooded Fang seized Jacob Two-Two’s charge sheet, muttering to himself as he clutched it between his paws. “Mmmnnn,” said The Hooded Fang, “insulting behavior to a big person, eh? We’ll soon cure that, we will. What led you into such serious trouble?”

“Two pounds of firm, red tomatoes,” said Jacob Two-Two, sighing. “Two pounds of firm, red tomatoes.”

“Why are you saying things two times? Take me for an idiot, do you?”

“No, sir. No, sir.”

“Remove this desperado to the lowest, dampest dungeon,” said The Hooded Fang, “and put him on a diet of stale bread and water. My shaving water! Ho, ho, ho!”

“Can I have two slices, please?” asked Jacob Two-Two. “Can I have two slices?”

“You see,” said The Hooded Fang, strutting, “he’s only been here two minutes and he’s begging for mercy. Am I tough! Oh, boy, I’m the toughest!” The Hooded Fang growled at Jacob Two-Two. He bared his fangs. “Shall I tell you why I hate kids more than anything in this world?”

“Please do,” said Jacob Two-Two. “Please do.”

The Hooded Fang dismissed Master Fish and Mistress Fowl and locked the door to his lair.

“Once,” he began, “I was a star, with my own dressing room. The Hooded Fang, most hated and vile villain in all of wrestling. Why, as I made my way from my dressing room into the arena, the boos were sufficient to raise the roof beams. And the minute I stepped into the ring, the fans pelted me with stinking fish, rotten eggs, and overripe tomatoes. Oh, it was lovely!”

“Then,” said The Hooded Fang, his eyes suddenly charged with menace, “it happened. One dreadful evening in Doncaster, just as I slipped between the ropes, waiting for the eggs and fish to fly …
a child laughed
. A child, standing on a chair in the front row, pointed at me, laughed out loud, and said, ‘He’s not
terrible, Daddy, he’s funny!’
Funny?
Desperately, I rolled my eyes. I bared my fangs. I made menacing faces. But nobody threw anything. Not one little rotten egg. The child wouldn’t stop laughing. And, before you knew it, the whole arena was convulsed. The more I growled, the louder they laughed. When my opponent entered the ring, I immediately poked my thumb into his eye, but instead of hitting back, he just fell against the ropes, roaring with laughter.”

The Hooded Fang blew his nose. His head hung heavy.

“These things get around, you know. It was in the newspapers. And soon, wherever I went, all I had to do was crawl through the ropes, and the fans were laughing so hard, tears came to their eyes.
All because a child laughed
. A funny villain is no good, don’t you see? No good at all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hooded Fang,” said Jacob Two-Two. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” asked The Hooded Fang, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you seem to be such a nice man.”

“What?” roared The Hooded Fang. “How dare you! I’m not nice. I’m horrible, disgusting, mean,
vicious, evil, and vile! Now get out of my sight, before I sink my fangs into you. Oh, how I hate kids!”

CHAPTER 7

o Jacob Two-Two was removed from the lair of The Hooded Fang and led along a winding corridor and down two hundred steps to a row of subterranean cells by Master Fish and Mistress Fowl.

A tearful little boy stuck his head out between the bars of the first cell Jacob Two-Two passed. “Please, sir,” he cried to the guards, “please, I’ve got a terrible tummyache.”

“Shall we throw him to the crocs, then?” asked Master Fish.

“No, feed him to the snakes.”

“The wolverines are hungrier.”

“How do you feel now?” asked Mistress Fowl.

“Oh, much better, thank you, sir,” said the boy, retreating from the bars.

A few cells farther down, a little girl’s head popped out between the bars. “I’m hungry,” she protested. “I’m so hungry.”

“Here, then,” said Master Fish. “I’ll give you a rotten, wormy apple if you promise to eat every piece.”

“Ugh,” said the girl, retreating.

“What’s she in for?” asked Jacob Two-Two. “What’s she in for?”

“Why that ungrateful little girl broke out in measles on the very day her father had invited the boss to dinner. Ruined everything.”

“You’re in the double-security section,” said Mistress Fowl. “Only hardened criminals here.”

With that, Mistress Fowl unlocked a cell and flung Jacob Two-Two inside. She left him with a jug of water and two slices of stale bread, slamming the barred door.

Jacob Two-Two had hardly adjusted to his surroundings when the entire cellblock was plunged into darkness and a loudspeaker began to crackle.

“Good evening, my little dreadfuls,” sang out the menacing voice on the loudspeaker, “I do hope that you’ve all finished every last delicious drop of your good-night glass of curdled wolverine’s milk and that you are all nicely tucked in on your cold, splintery bed boards, with your cell doors firmly locked, because oh, dear, oh, dear,
one of our snakes is missing and is rumored to be slithering through the cellblocks right now in search of some tasty toes
. Well, now, don’t worry, because once more it’s Happy Nightmare Hour, with your most unlovable Slimer, yours truly, Uncle Oscar Octopus. Last night, if you remember, we left our hateful hero, Dan Disrespectful, fleeing across the haunted swamp, pursued by Wanda Witch and her pack of sewer rats …”

Jacob Two-Two held his hands to his ears, shutting out Uncle Oscar Octopus, until he was certain the Happy Nightmare Hour was over. And, quite suddenly, Jacob Two-Two was very hungry. He had forgotten to eat his dinner. His stale bread. Removing his two slices of bread from his tray, Jacob Two-Two was astonished to discover a chocolate bar hidden beneath.
I have a friend in the prison
, he thought. But who? Who could it be?

CHAPTER 8

leasant dreams, kiddo,” had been Mistress Fowl’s last words to Jacob Two-Two, and Jacob Two-Two, his supersonic bleeper secured in his ear, did have pleasant dreams, in spite of his squalid surroundings. For he knew that tomorrow, or two days after, the leaders of Child Power – the intrepid Shapiro, followed by the fearless O’Toole – would begin tracking him.