The Beast Under the Wizard's Bridge (11 page)

“That's because this is an astronomical telescope,” declared Uncle Jonathan. “It flips the image top to bottom,
so when you look at the moon through it, north is at the bottom and south is at the top.” He looked around. “Say, where is Rose Rita?”

“I don't know,” said Lewis. “I'll go find her.” He ran to the kitchen door and almost collided with her. “Where were you?” Lewis asked.

In a loud voice, Rose Rita said, “I had to visit the bathroom.” Then, whispering to Lewis, she added, “I was really looking at the stuff Mrs. Zimmermann brought over in the folder. Want to hear about it?”

Lewis turned and said, “Uncle Jonathan, we're gonna watch some TV.”

His uncle waved at him. Lewis and Rose Rita went to the front parlor. Lewis switched on the TV, and when it warmed up, he found a Detroit Tigers baseball game. “That was kind of sneaky of you,” he said to Rose Rita.

“I know,” replied Rose Rita. “I'm not exactly proud of myself, but I thought it had to be done. Mrs. Zimmermann's been looking up stuff about the Clabbernongs. Want to hear?”

Lewis said, “I guess I'd better.”

“Okay.” Rose Rita began to hold up fingers as she counted off the items in the folder. “First, there's a photocopy of a newspaper article from the twenties about the Clabbernong place. Some scientists thought the plants were infected by a fungus, but they couldn't track it down. The fellow who had bought the farm just moved away and abandoned it. Second, there's an obituary about Elihu Clabbernong from 1947. It just says he
died of acute pneumonia and that he was eighty-four years old. Third, there's a piece of paper with ‘Mephistopheles P. Moote, Attorney-at-Law' written on it, and an office address in Kalamazoo.”

Lewis frowned. “Wasn't that the name of Elihu's lawyer?”

“You bet it was,” said Rose Rita. “I think we ought to investigate him.”

“Maybe we won't have to,” argued Lewis. “Nothing's happened so far. Maybe we should leave the farm alone, and—”

“Your uncle doesn't think so,” Rose Rita pointed out. “And neither do I.”

“But why do we need to rock the boat?” asked Lewis, his tone woeful.

Rose Rita shook her head in a pitying way. “All right,” she said. “If you're too scared to help me—”

“I didn't say that!” protested Lewis. He knew he had lost the argument already. “What do you think we ought to do?” he asked.

“Lots of things,” answered Rose Rita. “See if this lawyer, Moote, knows anything. Figure out that peculiar paragraph from Elihu Clabbernong's will. Find out if anybody has made sense of Jebediah's crazy journal. Keep an eye out.”

“All right,” agreed Lewis. “But promise me that if we can't turn anything up by next week, we'll forget the whole thing. Okay? I don't want this to be my life's work or anything.”

“Bored already?” asked Rose Rita with a crooked smile. “Hey, Lewis, I'm just as scared as you are. But that doesn't mean we can leave our friends in the lurch.”

“You can't be as scared as I am,” grumbled Lewis. “I don't think that's possible.”

*  *  *

All went well that evening, up to a point. Mrs. Zimmermann dryly observed that her Saturday-evening dinners were getting to be a habit, but for all her pretend grumpiness she prepared a delicious meal: tender roast chicken, some incredibly sweet fresh corn on the cob, mounds of bright green peas dripping with butter sauce, and some wonderful home-baked rolls, with a piping hot apple pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert. Afterward, Lewis and Rose Rita pitched in to help with the dishes, while Jonathan went out into the backyard and fiddled with the telescope as the sun sank and it became dark.

By the time Lewis, Rose Rita, and Mrs. Zimmermann all trooped outside, a few stars were glittering overhead. The moon was a little more than half full, and Uncle Jonathan had aimed the telescope at it. “Lewis,” he said, “want to take a peek at the surface of another world?”

Lewis squinted through the eyepiece at the image of the moon, glaring white in places, smooth and gray in others. The craters, especially near its ragged edge, were pools of jet black. The magnified face of the moon shimmered a little. Lewis found it absolutely enchanting.

Rose Rita took her turn next, then Mrs. Zimmermann. “Very pretty,” she said. “Any planets up there?”

“Sure,” replied Jonathan. “Let me make a few adjustments.” He swung the telescope tube around, peered through the spotting scope, and then twiddled some knobs. “Take a look at this,” he said.

Lewis again was first. He saw a pale yellow disk with a thin white ring around it. “Saturn!” he said.

“A-plus!” boomed Uncle Jonathan with a chuckle. “Don't hog the eyepiece, now!”

After they had all taken a look, Jonathan asked, “Any more special requests?”

In an innocent-sounding voice, Rose Rita asked, “Are there any comets we could look at?”

Lewis almost felt a chill in the air. Then Jonathan coughed and said, “There's supposed to be one. I'll have to line up the telescope with the setting circles, though. You can't see the comet yet with a small instrument like the spotting scope. Let me see.” He fooled with the setting circles, looked in the eyepiece, and made more adjustments. Finally he said, “See what you think.”

Lewis saw a fuzzy star with a bright red center. Then he realized that the blur around the star was really the coma, the part of a comet's tail that surrounds the icy head. With the aid of the telescope, Lewis could make out the tail itself, stretching away from the central red glare at an angle. “Does it have a name?” he asked.

“Not yet,” said Uncle Jonathan. “It's got a number, though. If what the magazines say is correct, we'll be able to see it next week without a telescope. It's whizzing in pretty fast.” After everyone else had looked at the
comet, Uncle Jonathan said, “Let's call it a night. Tell you what: We'll have our special show on Monday. The Fourth of July deserves a few fireworks.”

Lewis agreed, but only halfheartedly. His uncle clearly dreaded something.

And that only made Lewis feel more apprehensive than ever.

*  *  *

Monday night came, and Uncle Jonathan prepared to cast his illusion spell. He had cleared the telescope and the lawn furniture from the backyard. With Mrs. Zimmermann, Lewis, and Rose Rita waiting in a line behind him, Uncle Jonathan stood almost in the middle of the yard. He lifted his walking stick and waved it mysteriously. Instantly a swirling fog condensed right out of the air. For a second Lewis couldn't see a thing. Then the mists billowed and faded, and salty spray drifted against Lewis's face. He and the others stood at the railing of an old-fashioned sailing ship. Lewis could feel the deck beneath his feet rising and falling as the craft cut through the water. Here and there lights gleamed from other vessels, but no gunfire sounded. The battle had not yet begun.

“We are aboard a ship in Nelson's squadron on the night of August first, 1798,” Jonathan said solemnly. “Our warship is a frigate that Nelson has sent into Aboukir Bay in the Mediterranean, near the mouth of the Nile River. We are slipping in to attack a French fleet, and I want you to keep an eye on the French ship of the line
L'Orient
, because just at midnight it's going to—”

Just what the ship was going to do Lewis did not find out. The deck lurched, tilted, and plunged, and they all. staggered for balance. For a panic-stricken moment Lewis thought they had struck a rock.

Suddenly a lurid red light bathed everything. Looking up, Lewis saw that the glare streamed from the comet—but not as he had seen it in the telescope. It hung straight overhead, and its fiery heart blazed as bright as the full moon, with its long tail streaming nearly halfway to the horizon.

“Jonathan—” began Mrs. Zimmermann.

“I don't know what's wrong!” shouted Jonathan, waving his cane. Nothing happened. “Florence, I need your help!”

Lewis felt Rose Rita grab his arm. Their ship was
not
sailing in any bay. No other craft were about. A choppy, empty sea, the color of blood in the light from the comet, stretched out in all directions. Something was rising from the water ahead of them, just off the port bow of the ship.

With a gasp, Lewis saw an enormous octopus or squid break the surface of the water. Its tentacles writhed. Probably its normal color was a sickly, mottled white, but in the light from the comet, it gleamed like fresh liver. Impossibly, the squirming beast rose even more, with bloodred streams pouring off it. Lewis heard himself shriek. He felt half crazed with terror.

The squid-thing wasn't an animal at all.

It was the horrible head of a gigantic human form!

And the monster, chest deep in the sea, was striding right toward them!

In a harsh voice Mrs. Zimmermann chanted a magic spell. For a moment, jagged, purple lightning bolts flickered all around the ship. Then, like water flowing down a drain, the lightning streamed into the monster's body.

Lewis could not tear his gaze away from the weird scene. The giant seemed to swell, looking stronger than ever. “It's not working!” Lewis screamed.

At the same moment the creature screeched. Lewis saw that the wriggling tentacles were like a hideous mustache, and beneath them the monstrosity's mouth gaped ten feet wide. Its teeth were like a shark's teeth, and its voice was a shrill, wavering roar.

“Hang on,” yelled Mrs. Zimmermann. “I can't fight it! My magic only makes it stronger! I'm going to try to counteract your spell, Jonathan. You know what it's like
when you try to mix different kinds of magic—so hold on to Lewis and Rose Rita!”

Lewis felt his uncle's hand on his shoulder, and he gripped Jonathan's arm. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut out that terrible sight, but he was too afraid even to do that. The monstrous creature was reaching out for them with fish-scaled arms and grasping webbed claws. A nauseating reek of decaying fish washed over Lewis. He was only dimly aware of Mrs. Zimmermann gesturing and waving her arms—

Then he felt as if
he
had been struck by lightning. A shocking jolt took his breath away. A sickening sensation of plummeting, tumbling, and then—
oof!
—he fell hard to the ground.

The
ground
.

Not the deck of a ship!

Lewis lay facedown in short-clipped grass. He could smell it. Its blades tickled his palms and his cheeks. He sensed his uncle kneeling next to him. Lewis raised his head, blinked, and saw that the unnatural bloody light had gone. Crickets chirped nearby. They were once more in the Barnavelts' backyard.

“Is—is everyone okay?” asked Lewis's uncle, his voice dazed and hoarse.

“I am,” replied Rose Rita.

“I—I guess so,” said Lewis at the same time.

Mrs. Zimmermann stood unsteadily a few feet away. “Let's get inside,” she said, her tone strained and low.

They all stumbled into the kitchen. Mrs. Zimmermann's appearance shocked Lewis as she slumped into a
chair. Her hair, never especially neat, was tangled in strands around her face. She had turned very pale, her skin almost waxy, and dark circles smudged the flesh beneath her eyes. Uncle Jonathan brought her a glass of water, which she drank gratefully. “Are you all right, Florence?” he asked, his voice anxious.

Heaving a sigh, she nodded. “I think so. I didn't have my umbrella, so half my power was unavailable to begin with. And that—that creature gobbled up most of the rest of it! If I'd tried to hit it with another spell, I think the effort might have killed me.”

Rose Rita asked, “What was it? Where were we?”

Uncle Jonathan shook his head. “I have no earthly idea, Rose Rita. And for that matter, we may not have
been
on Earth! We may have been on some other planet—or in some other time. Something twisted my spell. It was supposed to be a simple illusion, and illusions can't hurt you. But that monster was real.”