All for One

by Terry Catasus Jennings

  “Forsooth,” Pancho said. “It’s happened before!”

  “And what did you do about it… before?”

  “We prevented the villain from ruining Leni’s party.”

  “And what did you do… this time?” Dom asked the florist.

  “Absolutely nothing,” the woman said. “Not yet. It will cost me a lot to make the change.”

  “You could check with Leni,” Dom said. “Just ask to go over the order. That way you’ll know if she really wants to make a change… without worrying her if she didn’t.”

  “Right!” The florist pulled up Leni’s order in the computer and began punching in numbers. As she did, her eyes widened. She looked up at the musketeers, but before she could say anything, Leni had answered. Quickly, the florist confirmed the order for blue and purple wildflowers and hung up with a big sigh.

  “A cataclysmic catastrophe circumvented?” Steph asked, and began to give high fives all around.

  “No, no, Musketeers,” the lady said. “I just noticed something fishy.” She showed them her cell phone screen. “The last one is Leni’s number. Look at the two calls before.”

  “Holy plungers!” Pancho said. “They’re the same!”

  “One of them is Desmond and the other one is the pretend Leni?” Dom asked.

  The florist nodded. “Exactly. Two different people called from the same phone. Within minutes of each other. The first was a man who said he was Desmond. The other was the crackly girlish voice who said she was Leni.”

  “Oh, kind lady,” Pancho said. “The quinceañera conspiracy continues!”

  “And we have to stop it!” Steph added.

  “Is there anything that you know that could help us, lady? Kind lady?”

  The florist scrunched her forehead and peered into the eyes of the three musketeers, one at a time. “The plot may be bigger than you think, Musketeers. When Desmond placed his order, he asked when I would deliver Leni’s flowers, or if she was coming to pick them up. He wants to pick up his flowers at the same time.”

  “And what time would that be?”

  “Twelve thirty tomorrow,” the florist said. “Good luck!”

  * * *

  “We must come back at twelve thirty tomorrow and make sure they don’t succeed!” Pancho said once they closed the door behind them.

  “We’ll come back to the florist to make sure the flowers get to Leni’s party,” Steph said.

  Dom punched the air. “Leni’s party will not be ruined.”

  They gave one another the musketeer salute, took a selfie, and walked on to prevent further dastardly disasters.

  9 The Proof

  “That’s the proof we’ve been waiting for!” Dom said as they crossed the first street.

  “Whoever’s changing Leni’s order is in cahoots with Franklin Desmond.”

  “Vinnie Bublassi!” Steph said. “And I think that crackly voiced maiden is either Ernie or Ponsi. You can’t get more dastardly than that!”

  “No,” Pancho said. “We know it’s Vinnie Bublassi. And he probably made Ernie or Ponsi help him with the phone calls. But we can’t say for sure. We don’t have any proof.”

  “At least we can tell Rafi. He has to believe us now.” She took out her phone to call her brother. He and Mr. Tava’s son had left after school to pick up two pigs in Pennsylvania.

  The phone rang before Dom had time to punch in his number. It was Rafi. She put him on speakerphone.

  “Finally,” he said. “I couldn’t get through to you. Someone’s trying to mess with more than the pigs!”

  Dom and the musketeers could have said I told you so, but this was not the time.

  “Look,” he said. “Reception here is awful. Just let me tell you what you need to do. Ben Gonzales, from Kowalski’s, was about to take the food for the party to Yuca, Yuca so el Señor Prieto can cook it all tomorrow. And two boys showed up about thirty minutes ago. They’re just hanging around. And waiting. I’m afraid they’re Bublassis. I think when Ben leaves the building with the food, they’ll try something.”

  The musketeers gasped.

  “Forsooth, you speak the truth. Ernie and Ponsi for sure!” Dom said.

  “And they’re waiting for Vinnie,” Steph added.

  “We can’t say—” Pancho began, but both girls stared him down.

  “Send them on a wild-goose chase,” Rafi said. “Talk—B—Gonzales—figure—out.”

  “Got it,” Dom said, even though she hadn’t heard any of the last part of what her brother had said.

  A “call failed” notice came up on her screen.

  “My uncle’s picking up the third pig in North Carolina,” Pancho said. “It’s totally up to us!”

  “Well, then,” Dom said. “Musketeers to the rescue!”

  They planned as they walked, stopping at Steph’s house for a prop. Roco was still in her kitchen. He didn’t seem to have anything better to do, so he followed them.

  * * *

  As they neared the grocery store, they called Ben Gonzales. The night watchman at Kowalski’s was another friend. They had met him during their pirate adventure. Because he’d found Kowalski’s treasure, the grocery store owner let him live in the apartment over the grocery store for free. During the day, he was the janitor at a building by Monroe Park. In the evenings, he kept an eye on Kowalski’s security cameras and responded to any alarms. The musketeers had one big question.

  “Ben,” Dom said into the phone. “Where are those boys?”

  “In alley.” Ben’s English was a bit chopped.

  “We’ll come through the front, then, and meet you inside the store,” Pancho said. From the alley, the Bublassis wouldn’t see them approach or go in through the front door. Roco would be able to stay cool in the shade of the awning.

  “Pirates look like…,” Ben said when they met.

  “Musketeers,” Dom said. “We’re musketeers now, Ben.”

  “So who Porthos and Aramis and Athos and D’Artagnan?” Ben knew the classics like Treasure Island and The Three Musketeers backward and forward. “I get it. Rafi’s D’Artagnan.”

  Dom high-fived the man in overalls. “Ahh, we didn’t take on the names of the musketeers, Ben. Things started happening too quickly. And you’re right. Rafi probably is D’Artagnan. And he sent us to help you. Did you call him?”

  “I call him,” the man in overalls said. “Mr. Kowalski in New York. He say call Yuca, Yuca. Woman at Yuca, Yuca say call Rafi about party stuff.”

  Ben Gonzales told them he’d noticed two boys circling the store. He showed them the current video and fast-forwarded through video of the last hour or so.

  “It’s the Bublassis all right!” Steph said. “Ernie and Ponsi, for sure.”

  Around back. Around the front. Ben was afraid they’d try to stop him if he tried to take the food to Yuca, Yuca. The musketeers agreed.

  “Why they around here and around here if they good boys?” Ben said.

  The musketeers couldn’t answer that, but they had a plan.

  “Ben,” Dom said. “You know where the ice-cream cart is? The one Mr. Kowalski uses on really hot days to sell ice cream outside?”

  Ben nodded. “By cash register. You need wheels?”

  Dom knew exactly what he meant. When Rafi worked for Mr. Kowalski, he sometimes manned the ice-cream cart. He had to bring down the wheels to be able to roll it outside. “We need wheels. Let’s go.”

  They worked quickly. Without much talking. Ben and Steph emptied the ice-cream cart and pulled down the wheels. Dom and Pancho hurried to the store’s back room to pick up the boxes for the party. Some from a freezer and others from a fridge. They carried them to the cart.

  They filled the bottom of the cart with the party food. Then they piled on as much ice-cream as they could. They ended up with three layers of prewrapped ice cream—cones, sandwiches, and Popsicles—over the party food. The ice cream that didn’t fit, they stowed in the back freezer.

  They told Ben their plan, a
nd before they left, the three musketeers did a plunger salute. “All for one,” they said, because, in truth, they were all working to make Leni’s party perfect. They got Ben to take a picture.

  * * *

  Steph lost Rock Paper Scissors, so she pushed the cart. Dom and Pancho escorted her. Roco brought up the rear. The procession proceeded, feathers waving, plungers rocking, and Roco’s tail wagging as they walked. The four paraded down the sidewalk toward Yuca, Yuca—it would be a six-block walk. Ben followed them at a distance.

  At first the Bublassis didn’t show. Which was a good thing.

  If they got to Yuca, Yuca without any Bublassi sightings, they would be happy.

  But that didn’t happen. When they crossed the first street, the Bublassis saw them. A block and a half away from Kowalski’s, the two younger Bublassis were already behind them.

  “Ernie!” Pancho said, looking back.

  “Ponsi!” Steph greeted the bully like a long-lost buddy. “My good man!”

  The Bublassis drew even with the musketeers at the end of the block. They all crossed the street.

  “Are you perchance on the search for cold refreshment?” Dom said. “We have an abundance in this carriage.”

  “She means ice cream,” Pancho translated, still walking. “The cart is full of it.”

  Ponsi looked doubtful.

  Three and a half blocks to go.

  “We’re taking this cart to Yuca, Yuca for an ice cream giveaway,” Steph said without slowing down. She glanced at the other musketeers as if she needed their permission. “Methinks the kind owner of Yuca, Yuca would be happy to share his bounty.” She opened the top of the freezer cart, showing off the icy treats.

  Ponsi didn’t reach in, but Ernie eyed the wrapped cones and licked his lips.

  All three musketeers crossed their fingers that Ernie and Ponsi wouldn’t want to dig deep.

  Still walking, Dom picked out a fudge-drizzled vanilla ice cream from the top layer and handed it to Ernie. “Be our guest. Don’t be shy.”

  “It’s free,” Pancho said. “You don’t have to pay anything. All you can eat.” And to prove his point, he opened an orange Popsicle for Roco, who slurped it quickly.

  Dom reached for another ice cream and handed it to Ponsi. “You could come by Yuca, Yuca and have more later. We’ll be setting up as soon as we get there.”

  “All you can eat,” Pancho repeated.

  They were now four blocks from Kowalski’s and two blocks from Yuca, Yuca. Ponsi, tearing the wrapper of his ice cream open, looked undecided. Like half of him wanted to stay and gorge himself on ice cream and the other half wanted to rush away to do whatever dastardly deed he needed to do at Kowalski’s.

  “I don’t blame you for being of two minds, dear man,” Pancho said. “We musketeers are of two minds as well. We would love to stay and partake of the food and merriment at Yuca, Yuca, but we must away to L’Hotel de Ville in Tuddytown to pick up precious cargo for tomorrow’s celebration.”

  The Bublassis stopped, and for the first time since they left Kowalski’s, so did the musketeers.

  “Wha—wha—what was that you said?”

  “Mayhap you did not understand.” Steph reached down to pat Roco. “We will be journeying forthwith to L’Hotel de Ville, a most excellent establishment. There, we will pick up the victuals for tomorrow’s celebration.”

  “She means food for Leni Fuentes’s party,” Pancho translated.

  “Not—not—not Kowalski’s?”

  “Oh no, my dear man.” Dom put her hand on Ponsi’s back and led him away like a conspirator. Then she crossed her fingers again. She was about to tell a whopper. “Kowalski’s is not a worthy establishment. The young maiden did not order her food from Kowalski’s.”

  “Nay, nay!” Pancho told Ponsi, crossing his fingers too. “Yuca, Yuca doesn’t buy anything from Kowalski’s anymore. L’Hotel de Ville is the place. Tuddytown. Straight down Twenty-Seventh. I’ve picked up victuals for my uncle there many times.”

  Ponsi didn’t look convinced, but he and Ernie went along. Only a block away. The musketeers had been lucky.

  But their luck was about to run out.

  “What is it you have in here?” Ponsi pointed to the cart.

  “Ice cream, of course,” Steph said. “You saw it yourself. Would you like to take a deeper look?”

  “Ah, well, yes,” Pancho said. “If you would like, you may do so when we reach yon establishment.” He pointed to Yuca, Yuca. “But right now, as we walk, we should obtain the route to our next assignation. You know we must away quickly. You’re welcome to stay at Yuca, Yuca and examine the contents after we’ve left.”

  “Ah yes.” Dom sighed. “I do wish we could stay and partake of the cold refreshment. But a musketeer’s duty is never done.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her bag with great secrecy. They had typed it up and printed it out at Steph’s house. It read L’HOTEL DE VILLE across the top in huge letters. In less huge letters was the address: 221B Baker Street. Below was a list of foods likely to be bought for a party, like carrot sticks, cheese cubes, and cucumber sandwiches.

  Ponsi looked over her shoulder.

  Dom turned to him and scorched him with her eyes. She folded the piece of paper quickly. “I fear, kind sir,” she said, “that you spy on me without shame.”

  “At least you could have shame,” Steph said.

  “Or even better,” Pancho added. “Forget the spying.”

  Dom said the address under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, and then punched it into her phone’s GPS. In trying to hide it from Ponsi, she showed it to Ernie. She could see the younger Bublassi mouthing the address. 221B Baker Street. 221B Baker Street.

  Almost to Yuca, Yuca, Steph made her last offer. “May I interest you in another cold refreshment for the road?”

  “Or will you be staying at Yuca, Yuca to continue to partake?” Dom added.

  “We’re going!” Ponsi said.

  “It won’t hurt us to take one for the road,” Ernie whined.

  “With our compliments,” Pancho said. He reached for two more ice creams and handed them to the villains. “And now we must deliver this carriage into the establishment and away to our next assignation.”

  The musketeers pushed the cart through the door into the restaurant’s refrigerated room before they crumpled to the floor laughing.

  When they calmed down, they gave themselves a plunger salute. Then they asked one of the cooks to take a picture of them next to the cart. They deserved it. They had brought the food to Yuca, Yuca safely. They unloaded the ice-cream cart and checked in with Ben. No Bublassis anywhere he could see.

  “We’re not done, though,” Pancho said after they texted Rafi the picture. “This stuff is safe. It’s what my uncle’s cooking at Yuca, Yuca tomorrow. But since Rafi’s not here and my uncle’s still out picking up Leni’s third pig, we have to figure out how to protect the cake, the flowers, and everything else. The party’s at the community center, and all that stuff has to get there tomorrow. Disasters could still happen.”

  “And catastrophes.”

  “And just plain messes.”

  10 The Musketeer Plans

  Steph’s gran wanted her home, so the musketeers and Roco moved on to her house for pizza.

  They planned and plotted. And plotted and planned.

  They reached the baker by phone. She agreed with their plan and promised to make a pretend topper for Leni’s “cake.” The musketeers made cupcakes and iced them. Orange. With black curvy lines—like basketballs. Gran would pick up the real cake at the back door while the musketeers distracted the dastardly Bublassis at the front.

  Next was the florist. She still agreed there was a conspiracy to ruin the quinceañera but didn’t want the musketeers’ help. She said her daughter, Emily, convinced her she shouldn’t worry about Vinnie Bublassi.

  Even though the musketeers didn’t like that answer, they had to accept the florist’s wishes. For now. They
thought of different ways to stop any Bublassi plans to ruin the flower delivery, but none of them was spectacular. They decided to figure it out in the morning.

  In between the planning, cupcake making, and eating pepperoni pizza with Gran’s chocolate chip cookies for dessert, they made a chart of everything they would do the next day. They didn’t leave out one thing. They took a picture of the chart to keep on Dom’s phone. Since they had to be up so early, Dom and Roco spent the night. Pancho only lived two blocks over.

  * * *

  At six the next morning, the musketeers delivered the basketball cupcakes to the baker. They would be back to pick them up at nine—at the same time Desmond was scheduled to pick up his cake.

  And they were. They stood outside the bakery making so much noise that Ponsi Bublassi, who was there waiting for them, knew for sure that the musketeers had arrived. Desmond was nowhere to be seen, but that was not a problem.

  At 9:07 the three musketeers left the bakery each carrying a box. Two boxes held the basketball cupcakes they’d made the night before. The third box held a pretend cake topper the baker had made to really fool the Bublassis. It said “Leni, Queen of the Court” around a basketball jersey with the number fifteen on it. It was perfect.

  Ponsi showed up next to them as if by magic. Ernie was a few steps behind him.

  Ponsi’s foot stuck out in a perfect position to trip Dom. “Whatcha got there, loser-keteers?”

  Dom was sure the Bublassis wanted to see if the order had been changed. If not, they would mess it up. “Sweets for a maiden’s party,” she answered.

  “We are the carriers,” Steph added.

  “Speedy delivery,” Pancho finished. “Forsooth!”

  “Although mayhap I wouldn’t like this type of sweet for my festivities,” Dom said, and lifted the top of her box without being asked.

  The other two musketeers did the same.

  “The maiden has unique taste,” Dom said. “Wouldn’t you agree? Actually, I think I’d like a picture of this. Do you mind?” Dom handed her phone to Ernie, and the three musketeers posed along with Roco.