The Griffin's Riddle

by Suzanne Selfors

  “Meow.”

  “Mr. Tabby?” Ben and Pearl darted around. A speck of color peeked through a patch of leaves. Ben hurried to the nest’s edge and pushed the leaves aside. Sure enough, a tabby cat was clinging to the end of a branch, his eyes wide with fear. The hair on his back stood up like bristles on a scrubbing brush. Ben was happy to see that Mr. Tabby was alive and well. He was equally happy to see the vial of fairy dust safely tied around the cat’s neck.

  Ben had never owned a cat, but he knew that while they were good at climbing up trees, they were terrible at coming down. The fire department had visited his neighborhood last summer to help get Mr. Fluffy, a prize-winning Himalayan, out of a palm tree. Luckily, the firefighter had been wearing protective gear because that cat had gone ballistic with the hissing and scratching.

  “Hold on,” Pearl said. She climbed out of the nest, then stepped onto the branch. She took three steps before the branch creaked. Then it started to crack.

  “Watch out!” Ben cried, pulling her back into the nest. The cat growled as the branch wobbled. The leash dangled from his harness, swaying in midair.

  “Drat!” Pearl said. “How are we going to get him?” She opened her mouth real wide and hollered, “Here, kitty—”

  Ben put his hand over her mouth. “Don’t do that! Last time we yelled, ‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,’ the griffin king heard us, remember?”

  Pearl nodded. Then she moved Ben’s hand from her face. “But how are we going to get him off that branch?” she asked. “We can’t let him fall. That would be so sad. Poor Mr. Tabby.” Was that a tear in her eye?

  The cat did not look one bit happy. He spat and hissed and growled all at once. “If we had a cat toy, or a treat, or…” Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a Macker. “I forgot about these.” He held it by its rubbery tail. “Look, Mr. Tabby! Look what I have. Yummy.” The cat paid no attention to Ben. He dug his claws into the bark, holding on for dear life. The Macker didn’t work.

  “I’m gonna have to climb out there,” Ben said. Then he winced. Had those words actually come out of his mouth?

  “Really?” Pearl asked. “Do you think it’s safe?”

  Ben had never heard Pearl ask that particular question. He suspected she’d never asked it before in her entire life. And the fact that she’d chosen this moment to do so made him feel very worried. But Ben ignored that feeling. He’d been learning to do that lately.

  The branch that jutted out from the trunk, just below the cat’s branch, looked to be much thicker. Perhaps it could hold Ben’s weight. He removed his tie. “Distract him with this.” Pearl took the tie, then flicked it around like a piece of yarn. The cat slowly turned his head, watching the tie as if hypnotized.

  Ben walked four steps down the staircase, then climbed onto the thicker branch. Don’t look down, he told himself. Scooting on his bottom, he inched his way forward until he was directly below the cat. I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought. Sitting on the end of a branch, high above the ground, certainly contradicted every cautious instinct in Ben’s body. But there was a saying he’d heard about throwing caution to the wind. Seemed this was the right time to do just that.

  “Good kitty,” Pearl said soothingly. As the cat shifted position, his branch cracked again. He hissed and spat, his yellow eyes filling with wild terror. The end of the leash dangled just above Ben’s head. “Hurry,” Pearl told Ben. “He’s freaking out!”

  “He’s freaking out?” Ben’s entire body had broken into a cold sweat. Gripping his branch with his left hand, he reached out with his right, finger-tips barely brushing the dangling leash. The cat’s ears flattened and he began to whimper. Ben stretched as far as he could. “I… can’t…” If only he could make his fingers grow another inch. He took a deep breath and stretched again. There it was! With the leash’s handle clasped in his fingers, he gave a quick yank. The cat toppled off the branch, right into Ben’s outstretched arms.

  “Woo-hoo!” Pearl yelled, which was immediately followed by, “Oh no!” Because the branch Ben and the cat were on broke!

  19

  Ben wasn’t sure what had happened, because when you’re falling out of a tree, there’s not much time to think. But once it was all over, Pearl told him exactly what she had seen.

  Apparently, when the cat landed in Ben’s arms, the additional weight was just enough to crack the thicker branch, sending both Ben and the cat on a downward tumble. However, when the cat landed in Ben’s arms, the impact also broke the vial of fairy dust, summoning the Portal.

  The tornado’s appearance was instantaneous. For a moment, the swirling wind cradled Ben and the cat in midair. Then, as its momentum grew, it pushed the pair right back into the tree. They landed, unharmed, on the staircase.

  “Ben!” Pearl called. She stumbled down the stairs, dragging the feather behind her. The wind tore the bow out of her hair. “You did it,” she said, beaming her gap-toothed smile. “You saved Mr. Tabby.”

  The cat growled and squirmed. Even though Ben felt a bit stunned, he held on to the cat with all his strength. “You’re not getting away this time,” he grumbled in the cat’s ear.

  With a clap of thunder, the Portal touched down at the tree’s base. Gale-force winds continued to push against Ben and Pearl, making their descent slow and difficult. Branches swayed, and leaves ripped free. The staircase shuddered. “We’re almost there!” Pearl cried. When they reached the ground, Pearl didn’t hesitate. Feather in hand, she ran straight into the tornado. Ben didn’t give it a second thought. With his arms wrapped tightly around the cat, he followed.

  As he staggered into the Portal’s interior room, the relief was immediate. No more wind in his face, no more worry about finding the vial of fairy dust. The griffin king hadn’t returned, Maximus Steele was gone, and the feather had been found. As Ben relaxed his grip, the cat jumped to the floor. But he didn’t touch down with four furry paws. Rather, he landed in a pair of shiny black shoes. The leash and harness fell away.

  “Mr. Tabby,” Pearl said. “Welcome back.”

  He was dressed, once again, in perfectly creased pants, a crisp white shirt, and a metallic gold vest. The only evidence of his adventure was the broken vial hanging from the cord around his neck.

  “We got the feather,” Pearl told him.

  “And we met Maximus Steele,” Ben added. There was so much to say. Where should he begin? “He wants us to give a message to Dr. Woo.”

  “Destination, please,” the captain’s voice interrupted.

  After smoothing his vest and tucking in his shirttail, Mr. Tabby cleared his throat. “Dr. Woo’s Worm Hospital.” Then he made an ack sound and picked a couple of reddish-orange hairs off his tongue.

  “Setting coordinates for Dr. Woo’s Worm Hospital. Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for takeoff.”

  As the Portal began to vibrate, Ben pressed his heels into the floor to keep his balance. As usual, the ride was bumpy. Ben might have been focused on the bone-rattling turbulence. He might have been worried about falling out into unexplored dimensions. But instead he watched Mr. Tabby. The doctor’s assistant had not said a word to Pearl or Ben. He hadn’t looked at them, either. Ben didn’t expect a thank-you for saving the cat’s life, but he did want some sort of recognition that the mission had been successful. Was Mr. Tabby upset that they’d allowed him to wander off leash?

  No one spoke again until they’d landed safely on the tenth floor. Even Pearl refrained from asking questions. She held the feather, never taking her eyes off Mr. Tabby.

  “Destination reached,” the captain announced.

  “I think we might be in trouble,” Pearl whispered to Ben. Ben nodded.

  The Portal disappeared and the fairy dust settled. Ben was happy to see that Vinny wasn’t there to greet them—or to head-butt them. A note taped to the switchboard read:

  Pearl looked a mess. Her skirt had been torn by tree branches, her ribbon was gone, and her hair looked as if it had been styled by
a squirrel. Ben, likewise, was a disaster. His shirt was ripped, his tie was loose, and fresh cat claw marks glistened on his hands.

  “Wow, that was a crazy trip,” Pearl said.

  Mr. Tabby raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know. I have no memory of the journey.”

  “Seriously?” Pearl blew a strand of hair from her eyes. “You don’t remember that you sharpened your claws on the king’s throne and climbed a tree and got stuck?”

  “A detailed report is unnecessary,” he said with a dismissive wave. “What I do when I am in feline form does not concern me. I trust that my cat instincts took over and I acted as a cat should. I also trust that you did not let me wander.”

  “Uh…” Ben’s mouth fell open. “We got the feather. Isn’t that what really matters?” If Mr. Tabby didn’t want details, then Ben wasn’t going to volunteer details. Why get in trouble unnecessarily? He looked at his watch. “It’s two forty-five,” he said. “My grandpa’s coming to get me at three.”

  Mr. Tabby’s mustache twitched. “Then we must make haste.”

  Downstairs, in the Identification Room, Mr. Tabby chopped the feather into pieces and pulverized them in a blender. He opened the plaid thermos and poured Grandpa Abe’s matzo ball soup into four bowls. Then he sprinkled powdered griffin feather into each bowl, stirring until the flakes dissolved. “I shall serve these to Dr. Woo, Metalmouth, Violet, and the sasquatch. But I shall rely on you to take care of the Buttonville residents. Can you manage?”

  “Yes,” Ben said. “But wait. We need to see Dr. Woo. We have to give her Maximus Steele’s message.”

  “I do not wish to upset the doctor at this time. She is ill and needs her rest.” Mr. Tabby set the four bowls of soup on a tray.

  Pearl stepped in front of him and launched into an explanation, her words flying out at jet speed. “But Maximus is lying to the griffin king. He’s pretending that someone else is doing the poaching. The king trusts him. We were arrested and put in jail. Those goats were going to throw us in a pit! The king wanted to keep us forever because the riddles have run out. Maximus broke the lock and set us free because he cares about Dr. Woo. But then he gave us a warning. He said that if Dr. Woo keeps tampering with his traps, he’ll tell the king to forbid her from entering the Imaginary World. And then who would take care of the creatures?” Her face had turned red. She gasped for breath.

  “Yeah,” Ben added. “Exactly what she said.”

  Mr. Tabby looked deep into Pearl’s eyes and then into Ben’s. “These are not matters that should concern two human children. The best way you can help Dr. Woo at this time is to cure your townspeople of Troll Tonsillitis before it becomes an international news item. Is that clear?”

  Ben and Pearl nodded.

  Mr. Tabby handed Ben three things: a vial of powdered griffin feather, Grandpa Abe’s empty thermos, and a small tube labeled CAT SCRATCH CREAM.

  20

  They worked late into the night. After kicking off her shredded skirt, Pearl collected a bunch of thermoses from the Dollar Store. While Grandpa Abe made batch after batch of his famous matzo ball soup, Ben and Pearl filled the thermoses. And when Grandpa Abe wasn’t looking, they sprinkled each one with the magical cure.

  Using a Food 4 Less shopping cart, Ben and Pearl delivered the thermoses all over Buttonville, stopping first to help Pearl’s parents. The change was immediate. Faces and necks deflated. Sore throats returned to normal. Everyone was amazed by the soup’s healing properties. “Be sure to thank Abe,” they all said. “That’s the best soup ever.”

  But one house in particular they saved for last.

  The little red wagon was parked outside. Pearl knocked on the front door, but no one answered.

  “Maybe they’re asleep,” Ben whispered. It was late and most of the windows in the house were dark. “We could wait until morning.”

  “It’s tempting,” Pearl said. “But as much as I don’t like Victoria, we have to cure her or she’ll just keep spreading the sickness.” She yawned. “Besides, I’m really tired. I want to go to bed.”

  “Me too,” Ben said. The door was unlocked, so they tiptoed inside.

  The Mulberry house was clean and tidy, with shoes lined up in a perfect row and not a single dish in the sink. A pair of binoculars sat on each windowsill, and a telescope was pointed out the front picture window. Two red baseball caps hung on pegs, along with two sets of red overalls.

  Loud snoring led them upstairs to Mrs. Mulberry’s bedroom. Her frizzy red hair was tucked beneath an old-fashioned nightcap. Her flannel nightgown was buttoned all the way to her chin. Her face looked perfectly normal.

  “She must not have tonsils,” Ben whispered. He was glad they didn’t have to wake her. As she slept, she clutched a pair of binoculars to her chest and mumbled, “You can’t hide from me, Dr. Woo.” Then she started snoring again.

  Victoria was in the next room in a pink canopy bed, resting her big, swollen head on a pink pillow. Her nightlight cast a warm glow throughout the room. She moaned when Ben and Pearl stepped inside. “B… b… big. F… f… furry,” she mumbled.

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben told her. He opened the thermos and poured the soup into the cup-shaped lid. Then he handed it to Pearl.

  “Drink this,” Pearl told Victoria. “It’ll make you feel better.” She held the cup to Victoria’s lips.

  With a loud slurp, Victoria drank some soup. And right before Ben’s and Pearl’s eyes, the magical transformation occurred, accompanied by the distinct sound of a balloon deflating. Victoria’s hands flew to her face.

  “I’m normal again!” she exclaimed. She bolted upright. “I can talk!” She grabbed her glasses off the bedside table, slid them up her nose, then pointed a finger at Ben. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Big and furry—that’s what I saw!”

  “You were imagining things,” Ben said.

  “No, I wasn’t.” Victoria crossed her arms and glared at them. “It was big. It was furry. And it smelled really bad. Like a wet dog. Or sweaty socks.”

  Pearl laughed in a fake way. “Are you telling us that you saw a monster?” She laughed again. “Monsters aren’t real.”

  “Then what was it?” Victoria asked.

  Pearl nudged Ben, waiting for him, once again, to make up a good story.

  “Well,” he said, “monsters aren’t real. But your brain thinks it saw one because… because… Did you get a good look at your head? It was the size of a watermelon. Of course you thought you saw a monster. Your brain was squished.”

  Victoria frowned. “I guess that makes sense. But what about the dragon? I saw him before I got sick. You know it’s true.” She sank into her frilly pillows. “It’s so boring following Mom around while she does her snooping. I want to have fun. I want to meet a dragon.”

  If Ben hadn’t been so tired, he might have felt a wee bit sorry for Victoria. But all he could do at that moment was yawn. Then he rubbed his eyes. “We gotta get going.”

  “You can keep the thermos,” Pearl said as she and Ben hurried from Victoria’s room.

  “I won’t give up!” Victoria shouted after them. “I’m going to meet that dragon whether you help me or not!”

  Ben and Pearl couldn’t get down those stairs fast enough. As they darted toward the front door, they almost tripped over two boxes. One contained the compost worm that Mr. Tabby had cured. The other contained the rest of the compost worms that Mrs. Mulberry had ordered from a specialty gardening catalog.

  “They don’t even have a compost pile,” Pearl said with a frown. “I’ll set them free in the park on my way home.” After closing the front door, she placed both boxes into the shopping cart. “Well, I guess this is good night.”

  “Yeah,” Ben said, yawning again.

  “As soon as Dr. Woo gets better, we need to tell her what happened with Maximus Steele.”

  “Definitely.”

  As the stars twinkled above, Pearl put her hand on Ben’s shou
lder. “I’m sorry I said you needed a bad-mood flag.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry I got mad at you for dropping the leash.”

  They were too tired to say anything more. So off Pearl went, pushing the cart toward Main Street and the Dollar Store.

  As Ben headed in the other direction, the first rays of dawn peeked over the trees. Grandpa Abe was waiting for him on the front porch, slowly rocking on the cherry-red swing.

  “Did you deliver all the soup?” Grandpa Abe asked.

  “Yes,” Ben said. “I think everyone’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s good news.” He handed a bowl to Ben. “You’d better have some. To make sure you don’t get sick, too.”

  Ben didn’t argue. He was pretty hungry. So he sat next to his grandfather and ate two entire bowls.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Grandpa Abe held out a note card. “That odd man with the funny mustache came by and delivered this.” Ben read the card.

  “You see, I told you my soup cures everything.” Grandpa Abe chuckled. Then he leaned back and promptly fell asleep.

  Ben stretched out his legs and folded his arms behind his head. His bad mood was definitely gone. Maybe his grandfather’s soup had made him feel better. But so had the wise words from the griffin king. What Ben had come to realize was this—whether home was in a tree, in a den, with a mother, or with a father, what made a place home was how Ben looked at it.

  Life back in Los Angeles was going to be different, that was for certain. But different was plenty good.

  CREATURE CONNECTION