by R. L. Stine
They spit and cursed as they dragged us out of the net and stood us in a line against the cabin wall. A tall redheaded pirate tugged my brother by the hair and tossed him in line.
Three or four of them circled Salty and Pepper and shoved back their heads, laughing. “Hey, mate, aren’t you the pretty one?”
“Haha. Who says two heads are better than one? This one would look a lot better with no head.”
“Maybe Captain Billy will do this guy a favor and cut them both off!”
“Where is my luggage?” Madeline demanded. “Did you take it to my first-class cabin?”
I could see she was back to her crazy act again.
“Thank you for rescuing us,” I said, my voice coming out tiny and high.
“You’d best be saving your thank-yous,” the red-haired pirate said, scowling. “Captain Billy Bottoms will have plans for you. And my guess is, you’re not going to like them.”
I heard heavy footsteps. We all turned and saw a large man striding toward us. He wore a bright yellow shirt, ruffled at the sleeves, under a purple jacket that came down to his knees. His trousers were purple, too.
He had long, shiny black hair, parted in the middle of his head and falling down to his shoulders. His eyes were round and dark, and he had a wire-thin mustache under his nose, curled up on both sides.
His face was fat and as round as a basketball. He was nearly as wide as he was tall. His body reminded me of a purple pumpkin with a head on top.
He was so weird looking, I almost laughed. But I held myself in when I saw his men stand at attention and grow silent. I could see they were afraid of him.
“Well, well,” he said in a squeaky voice. “What do we have here? What ugly seaweed has washed up from the waters below?” He rubbed his pudgy hands together.
“Our good old ship sank, Captain,” Salty answered. “The Jolly Sea Scab went down yesterday. You heard of our ship, of course?”
“No,” the captain said sharply. “Never heard of it. Never wanted to.” He tugged at the ends of his wiry mustache.
I shoved back my drenched hair. “Thank you for rescuing us, Captain,” I said.
He turned to me and studied me for a long moment. “Don’t thank me yet, young miss. I haven’t decided if you sea slugs are all worth keeping. Maybe I’ll have to toss you back.” He laughed.
“Welcome to my ship, the Slimy Sea Worm. I’m Captain Billy Bottoms, and I’m known as the Pimple of the South Seas. Do you know why I’m known as the Pimple of the South Seas?”
No one spoke. We all stared back at him. Finally, Madeline broke the silence: “Because people like to squeeze you?”
He squinted at her. “Are you crazy?”
She nodded. “That’s what everyone tells me. How about you?”
Billy Bottoms’s round face turned as purple as his suit. He narrowed his eyes at his men, who waited at attention across the deck. “I’ve decided what to do with these sea slugs,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat. Would he really toss us back into the ocean?
Captain Billy rubbed his chubby hands together again. “I’m going to take them to the next island where they’ll be held as prisoners.”
Shawn and I both gasped. “But—but—” I sputtered.
He raised a hand to silence me. “Captain Billy Bottoms has made up his mind. You’ll go to work in the banana fields. You’ll enjoy it. All the bananas you can eat! Hahaha!”
He stepped up to me, his dark eyes wild. “Still want to thank me, Missy?”
“You—you can’t do that!” I blurted out.
He laughed again. “I’m the Pimple of the South Seas. I can do whatever I please.” He motioned to his men. “Take them down below.”
But then he stopped. He narrowed his eyes at Salty and Pepper, as if seeing them for the first time. Bottoms rubbed his fat cheeks, thinking hard. “Hey,” he said to the two-headed sailor, “Don’t I know you? Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
Salty and Pepper both nodded. “Yes, Captain Billy,” Salty said. “We sailed together, you and I, on the Sour Petunia. Remember?”
Bottoms thought about it. “Oh, right. We were mates. Now I remember.”
“Thank you for rescuing us,” Pepper said. “Since we were mates and sailed together, I guess you’ll change your mind. You’ll let us go.”
Bottoms stroked his triple chins. “I just remembered something,” he said. “I don’t like you. I didn’t like you then—and I don’t like you now. In fact, I hate you both!”
“But I’ve changed a lot!” Salty cried. “Maybe you’ll like me now. Maybe we’ll be best friends forever.”
“I don’t think so,” Bottoms said. He turned to the red-haired sailor. “Smitty, set our course for the island. And lock up the prisoners.”
“I love a good banana when it’s ripe,” Madeline said.
Salty and Pepper stared at her. “Don’t bananas grow on trees?” Salty asked. “That means we’ll have to climb trees to pick them, and I’m afraid of heights.”
“I’m afraid of depths,” Pepper said. “I’d rather climb banana trees than be down at the bottom of the ocean.”
Shawn and I mumbled agreement.
“I hate bananas,” I said. “They’re too sticky. They always get stuck on the roof of my mouth.”
“You should try chewing them,” Madeline said.
We were locked in a dark, smelly cabin at the bottom of the ship. We talked about bananas because what was really on our minds was too frightening.
But I couldn’t keep my thoughts from going there …
I’m going to be a banana worker on a strange island.
Shawn and I will never get home. We’ll never see our parents again.
It was much easier to talk about bananas than to talk about our real fears.
We all jumped in surprise when Smitty, the red-haired sailor, appeared carrying a tray of food bowls. “Help yourselves,” he said. “The captain sent you some dinner.”
I stared at the yellow mush in the bowls. “What is it?” I asked.
“Banana pudding,” Smitty answered. He laughed. “Captain Billy Bottoms has an awesome sense of humor.”
“Awesome,” I muttered.
* * *
The next morning, Shawn and I were jolted as the ship bumped hard. I caught my balance as the cabin floor seemed to bounce. Then it came to rest, and I realized we had docked.
A short while later, Smitty appeared down below. He and the other pirates led us up to the deck. My knees ached and my legs were stiff from not moving.
As we stepped out of the hold, I raised my eyes to the sky. It was solid blue, and a bright yellow sun was already high above us. I took several deep breaths. It felt so good to get the stale air out of my lungs and some fresh sea air in.
“What is this island called?” Salty asked Smitty.
Smitty grinned at him. “It’s called Your New Home.”
The ship bobbed gently against the dock. Shawn peered over the deck and pointed. “You can see banana trees for miles!”
I followed his gaze. I saw a narrow sandy beach beyond the dock. I saw some men dressed in white shirts and shorts, wearing wide white hats. They had their eyes on the ship. They stood near a line of open horse-drawn carts, all filled to the top with mountains of bananas.
“I could go for a banana split,” Madeline said.
Captain Billy Bottoms appeared and came bounding toward us. He had a wide grin on his red, round face. His shiny black hair caught the sunlight and made him glow as if he was on fire.
“Good morning, plantation workers,” he said in his squeaky voice. “Your new home isn’t far from here.”
“Can we talk about this?” Salty asked. “Since we were old mates …”
“You’re going to be a problem,” Bottoms said, scowling at Salty. “There isn’t much demand for a two-headed worker. You eat twice as much.”
“I’m a good sailor, Captain,” Salty insisted. “I could join your crew. It w
ould be like old times.”
“I hate the old times,” Bottoms shouted. “And I hate you.” He slapped the side of the deck. “Enough talk. Smitty, take them down to their new bosses.”
Smitty saluted and motioned for us to follow him down the gangplank to the dock.
“Don’t slip on any banana peels!” Bottoms cried. And then he laughed until his face was beet red and tears poured from his eyes.
We followed Smitty down to the island. We were about to start our new lives on a banana plantation.
In other words, we were doomed.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Madeline leaning close. She motioned to Shawn. “Listen, you two,” she whispered. “I wasn’t kidding about a banana split.”
I blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“When I give the signal, we split!” Madeline exclaimed.
“You mean run?” Shawn asked.
She nodded. “Duck under the banana carts and run to the fields on the other side.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. “Okay,” I whispered. “What’s the signal?”
“Hey—no talking!” Smitty shouted. He stepped between us, his eyes darting angrily from Madeline to me. He grabbed each of us by the shoulder. “What were you talking about?”
“How handsome you look in that sailor uniform,” Madeline replied.
He squinted at her. “You think so? I just had it washed six months ago. That’s why it looks so sharp.” Then he added with a grin, “You’re going to love picking bananas.”
“I’d rather pick my nose,” Madeline said. She tossed back her head and laughed a long hoarse laugh.
The plantation owners heard Madeline’s strange laugh and looked at us.
“Is she crazy?” one of them asked.
“Who? Mad Madeline?” Smitty said. “Of course she isn’t crazy. She’s just in a good mood because she loves bananas.”
“Banana split,” Madeline whispered. She gave Shawn and me a push, and we took off running. Our shoes thudded on the sand as we headed to the line of banana carts on the road. I glanced back and saw Salty and Pepper following us, taking long, running strides.
“They’re getting away!” a sailor shouted from behind us.
“Stop them! Get them!”
Smitty and the other sailors were close behind. The plantation owners came running, shouting and waving their arms.
They’re too fast, I realized. We’ll never escape. Where can we run?
Madeline ducked her head and dove under a banana cart. Shawn and I and Salty and Pepper followed, diving under the cart, then crawling to the other side.
The carts were lined up all down the narrow dirt road that led away from the beach. The horses pulling the carts all stood very still with their heads down. The open cart beds were bulging with bananas. The banana fields started on this side of the road and seemed to stretch for miles.
The shouts of the men grew louder. I could hear their running footsteps on the other side of the carts.
I struggled to catch my breath as we ran. “Where can we go?” I called to Madeline a few feet ahead of us. “If we run into the fields, they’ll catch us. We can’t run down the road. They’ll catch us there, too.”
Madeline pointed to the back of a cart. “Maybe we can hide.”
Hide in the bananas? It didn’t seem to make sense. But we didn’t have time to discuss it.
Madeline scrambled onto the back of a cart. I gave Shawn a boost. Then I pulled myself up after him. Salty and Pepper burst in right behind us.
“Get under the bananas,” Madeline said breathlessly. “Hurry. It’s our only chance.”
The four of us began frantically lifting up bunches of bananas, trying to slide under them. I saw Madeline and Salty and Pepper disappear under blankets of the green fruit.
Shawn was having trouble with the heavy bunches. I turned and swung a long bunch over his chest. I could hear the men getting closer, hear their running footsteps on the dirt road.
No time. No time.
I covered Shawn’s face with another bunch. Then I dropped onto my back, desperately grabbing at bananas, pulling them over me.
The sweet smell of the just-picked bananas invaded my nose. My stomach lurched. The aroma was making me sick. I held my breath and forced my stomach to stop heaving.
I heard the shouts of the men. They had to be just inches away from us.
I ducked as low as I could, pressing myself against the flat bed of the cart. I couldn’t see a thing, not even a glimpse of sunlight. I hoped the bananas covered me. I couldn’t tell.
Was Shawn completely covered, too? I couldn’t see him. But I could hear his wheezing breaths close beside me.
I held my breath. My skin started to itch. I struggled not to move.
And then a powerful hand gripped my leg.
Caught.
I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
It took me a few seconds to realize it was Shawn’s hand. The poor frightened guy held on to my leg.
Over my thundering heartbeats, I heard voices outside the cart.
“Where did they go?” a man shouted, inches away.
“Into the field?”
“Did they go back to the dock?”
“They can’t get back on the ship. Bottoms has his men posted on the lookout for them.”
“They didn’t go far. Keep searching!”
Under the heavy bananas, I flattened myself against the cart bed and listened for them to move away. My skin was itching like crazy now. But I forced myself not to move a muscle.
I heard the soft thud of footsteps on the sandy ground as the men moved past the carts. Their voices grew fainter. I was still afraid to move. Had any of them lingered nearby?
I waited and listened. And then I felt something warm crawling over the back of my neck. Like soft pinpricks. The touch made my skin tingle.
And then I felt another one, in my hair. Hard pinprick legs scuttling over the top of my head.
Bugs? Bugs in the bananas?
I couldn’t help it. I jerked myself up, knocking bunches of bananas to the side. I grabbed at the back of my neck. Wrapped my fingers around something soft and spindly.
Raised it to my horrified face. And started to scream.
“Tarantulas!”
I felt the soft tickle of one crawling up my right leg. Frantically, I slapped at my hair—and a tarantula came toppling out. It scrabbled away on its slender legs, under the bunches of bananas.
Had anyone seen me sit up? Had the men heard my scream?
Pushing a heavy bunch of bananas off my lap, I gazed around. I could see the men deep in the field, searching for us among the clusters of banana trees.
Shawn sat up, eyes wide with fright. He gasped in a few deep breaths. Sweat poured down his face.
I reached over and tugged at a tarantula on the front of his T-shirt. It clung to his shirt. It didn’t want to come off. But I swung it away and tossed it across the cart bed.
Salty and Pepper shoved bananas off them. “They won’t bite unless they’re hungry,” Salty said.
“Yes, they will,” Pepper argued.
Madeline’s head popped up from a bunch of bananas. “I … I hate tarantulas,” she said. “I—I—Eeeewww!” She shook her whole body, like a dog shaking off water.
My skin itched and tingled. “We have to get out of here,” I said. “Look!” I pointed.
The men had turned around. They were trotting back toward the carts.
“Where can we go?” Shawn demanded. “We—we’re trapped here.”
Before anyone could answer, the cart lurched hard. It shot backward, then jerked forward. I bounced into Shawn, and we both flew into the back of the cart bed.
The banana bunches bounced with us, and I saw tarantulas topple off the fruit and scurry across the cart bed.
“Whoa—wait! We’re moving!” I cried as the horse groaned loudly, then pulled the cart into the center of the dirt road.
&nb
sp; We began rumbling over the road, picking up speed.
I turned to my brother, my eyes wide with fear. “Wh-where is it taking us?” I cried.
The four of us bounced in the back of the cart as it sped along the dirt road. Every bump sent us flying. Shawn and I gripped banana bunches with both hands to help hold us down and keep us from flying over the side.
The cart followed a curve into the middle of a banana tree field. The thick bunches of green bananas bumped the sides of the cart as we sped past.
“I think we should jump out,” Salty shouted over the roar of the cart.
“No, we shouldn’t,” Pepper said.
“If we stay in the cart, we’ll be caught,” Salty warned.
“If we jump, we’ll break our necks,” his other head insisted.
They were still arguing about what to do when the cart squealed to a stop. All four of us slammed into the side. Pain shot up my back. Shawn struggled to climb to his feet.
I gazed around. We had stopped in a tiny village. I saw a row of white shacks. An old carriage with a missing wheel stood in front of a little store. Two kids eating popcorn leaned in the doorway to a shop.
“Hurry. Move!” Salty shouted. “We’re out of here!”
He leaped out of the back of the cart. Brushed a tarantula off his shoulder. Turned and ran toward the small store.
Shawn and I helped Madeline off the cart. Then the three of us started to run. We heard the cart driver shout behind us. “Stop! Hey—stop, you!” But we didn’t look back and we didn’t stop.
My heart was pounding as we followed Salty and Pepper along the side of the little store to the back. I heard music coming from inside. Soft classical music, the kind my parents like.
Salty and Pepper had stopped to talk to two girls about my age. They were sitting on a railing, books in their hands.
I stopped and stared at them. They were both blond, both tall, wearing long skirts and ruffled white blouses.
Shawn, Madeline, and I stepped up beside Salty. The girls squinted at us, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands. “Where did you come from?” one of them asked.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “Where are we?”