Creature Keepers and the Swindled Soil-Soles

by Peter Nelson

  The momentum of the lake water caused the submarine to continue to drift forward, even as it stabilized. When it finally rolled to a stop under the water, the sub righted itself and breached—just off the coast of Buck Wilde’s Wilde Isle.

  “Is everyone all right?” Eldon yelled to the crew inside. They stumbled around, dizzy and disoriented, as if they’d just gone through the tumble cycle in a giant clothes dryer. There were a lot of bumps and bruises, and more than a few seasick stomachs. But more than anything, they were happy to all be together, and honored to meet the young Badger Rangers who’d helped save the entire region from a megathrust earthquake.

  Doris ran to Eldon and squeezed him tightly. Abbie was glad to see Eldon, too, and immediately asked about her brother. Eldon explained to them both what had happened with Izzy, and how Jordan had chosen to stay behind.

  “I can’t believe he sat out a world-saving mission to babysit a cryptid instead,” Abbie said. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

  “I wouldn’t have let him go if I didn’t,” Eldon said. He smiled at the seasick crew all around them. “You, on the other hand, seem to have Ranger Master potential. This is a fine-looking unit you have here.”

  Abbie scowled, then dragged Eldon over to Ranger Master MacInerney, who was trying not to throw up on his Badger Badge sash. “Young dork, meet old dork,” she said, shoving them together. “You two have a lot in common, I’m guessing.”

  Alistair had opened the hatch and peeked out. He gestured to Eldon, Abbie, and Doris to come with him. “Oi! You’re gonna wanna see this!”

  Eldon ordered the cryptids onboard—Syd, Bernard, and Kriss—to stay below and out of sight, and to help Ranger Master MacInerney tend to the younger Badger Rangers.

  “And keep them wee Badger lads quiet,” Alistair added. “Ol’ Haggis-Breath took care of that tsunami, but that don’t mean we’re not still in dangerous waters!”

  Standing atop the submarine, Abbie, Doris, Eldon, and Alistair had front-row seats to a chaotic scene happening on Buck Wilde’s Wilde Isle.

  This was not the fun-for-the-whole-family gathering that Gusto had promised. After being rocked by tremors for most of the day, many of the fans on the island had just seen a massive rogue wave nearly wipe them out, only to subside at the last second by some miracle. There were still mumblings about the ghost of Bigfoot that had appeared on the haunted waters, and their host Areck Gusto might have been swallowed whole by the Sasquatch Spirit, depending on who you asked. The natives were officially restless.

  Gusto suddenly came streaming out of the sky, crashing feetfirst through the floor of the movie-screen stage, disappearing inside it.

  Gusto’s arm reached out of the hole he’d punched through the stage. He wearily pulled himself out and stood with some difficulty. He scanned his island creation and the crowd gathered within it, taking in the aftermath of what looked like a small riot. T-shirts and merchandise were piled up like rags, food carts were tipped over, and the crowd was ready to revolt. Gusto looked like a shell of himself. He bent down and picked up a microphone from the stage. He held it extremely close to his mouth and blew heavily into it. “CHHHHHHHGGHH . . . CHHHHHHGGHH . . .”

  His breathing blasted over the speakers. He stared out at the silent crowd.

  “Y’know folks, sometimes you gotta fight for your rights.”

  They all stared at him in silence.

  “And today, you all did that. You survived everything we threw at you—the simulated earthquake machine, a tidal-wave special effect, and even our one-of-a-kind Battle of Bigfoot reenactment extravaganza! You stuck it out and made it through opening day at the craziest adventure park ever built, the only park wild enough to have the original wild man’s name on it—BUCK WILDE’S WILDE ISLE!”

  A few hoots and hollers went up. People began to cheer. Gusto was picking up steam.

  Just offshore, atop the deck of the submarine, Abbie was struck by the gullibility of the masses. “He’s got to be kidding! Are those BuckHeads really buying this crud?”

  “What’re we waitin’ for?” Alistair said. “Let’s go and finish him!”

  Eldon shook his head. “He’s got the Hydro-Hide and the Soil-Soles. We can’t be reckless with so many people around. Let’s see where he’s going with this.”

  Onstage, Gusto continued winning over the crowd. “And now that you’ve all proven yourselves worthy, I can finally present to you the moment you’ve all been waiting for! The world premiere of Buck Wilde’s brand-new live TV show, BUCK WILDE: CREATURE-CATCHER!”

  The crowd burst into cheers. The BuckHeads were back. Gusto grinned out at the mass of humans he now had eating out of the palm of his hand.

  32

  “WE WANT BUCK! WE WANT BUCK! WE WANT BUCK!”

  Any worry the crowd had about earthquakes or tsunamis had vanished as they chanted louder and louder for their hero. Gusto beamed at them, watching them whipping themselves into a frenzy. Then, finally, he let them have it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen gathered here at WILDE ISLE! . . . Folks out there in TV land! You know him! You love him! The one . . . the only . . . MR. BUCK WILDE!”

  The lights cut out, and the screen lit up with Buck’s face. His voice blared out over Harrison Lake. “All right, all right, all right! How’s everybody doin’ out there!”

  The cheer of the crowd erupted, echoing past Abbie and the others aboard the deck of the submarine, and across Harrison Lake, bouncing off the avalanche-buried shores of Mount Breakenridge.

  Buck’s smiling face filled the movie screen, and he spoke to his devoted fans through a headset microphone attached to his trademark trucker cap, which sported his new logo.

  “I’m down here in South America, ready to wrangle up a brand-new varmint! You Creature-Catchers back at home keep your eyes peeled, ’cause my infrared thermomolecular night-sensor goggles work just as well in the jungles of the Amazon, where me and the Buckaroo Crew are getting ready to catch us a real, live, uh”—Buck glanced down. His lips moved as he read a scribble on his hand—“uh, Mapinguari!”

  As the crowd erupted again, Buck moved so his face wasn’t filling the entire screen, giving a first glimpse of where he was simulcasting from. It was dark in the Amazon, but the crew’s TV klieg lights lit up the thick jungle brush. The RV and Heli-Jet could be seen parked in the distance as Buck and his crew began tracking through the bush.

  They hadn’t gone five steps when Buck suddenly spotted something. He turned to face the camera, excitedly letting the folks at home know what was going on.

  “Look there! I see him!” He pointed to a thicket a hundred yards away. The lights and camera jerked, focusing on the spot where he was pointing. A blur of a large, one-eyed hairy head ducked out of the glare, and ran deeper into the jungle.

  “Didja see that? That was him! C’mon, boys!” The camera jostled as they all gave chase, sprinting after the shadowy figure.

  A massive gasp went up among the crowd watching from Wilde Isle. People yelled at the screen, egging Buck and his Buckaroo Crew on.

  “Go get him, Buck!”

  “Catch that one-eyed critter, Bucky boy!”

  Atop the Creature Keeper submarine, Abbie felt dread in the pit of her stomach. She thought about her brother, and she thought about the poor creature being hunted down. She shared a worried glance with Doris and put her arm around her. Eldon and Alistair stared at the screen with a look of concern. They all felt helpless as they watched.

  SPLASH! A wave suddenly washed over the deck behind them, dousing them with cold water. Equally cold and shocking was the voice they heard a second later.

  “I just love good reality television, don’t you?”

  Gusto stood on the turret-like sail of the submarine in his Soil-Soles and freshly wet Hydro-Hide, watching the show and munching popcorn out of a souvenir Izzy cup.

  “Lemme at him!” Alistair tried to scramble up the steep sail, but slid down.

  “Uh-uh-uh,” Gusto said, shifting his So
il-Soles atop the metal platform he was standing on. “Let’s see. . . . I’m picking up some vibrations. . . . Yes, it feels like you’ve got some young stowaways below, along with a cryptid or two, perhaps.”

  “Ya bowfing tattyboggle!” Alistair leaped up again. “I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!”

  Eldon pulled Alistair back. “I don’t know what you just said, but best if we calm down. We can’t endanger the crew below. Not ’til we know what’s up his sleeve.”

  “My sleeve?” Gusto pretended to admire his sparkling Hydro-Hide. “This old thing? Just something I threw on—really goes with the shoes, dontcha think?” He threw back his head and laughed from his perch, then looked around. “And speaking of old things, isn’t this my old submarine? I love what you’ve done with the place.”

  Abbie glanced across the water, back at the screen. Buck and his crew were gaining on the hairy one-eyed creature. “Gusto. You have to stop this.”

  “What can I do?” Gusto said, faking concern. “They’re so far away!” He looked down at Eldon. “Which reminds me—why are your people all gathered here, when one of your cryptids is all alone and in danger, way down there? I thought it was your job to protect these poor, defenseless creatures. Or did I have that wrong?”

  “You filthy mongrel!” Doris said.

  Gusto pretended to gasp. “Oh, no! Don’t tell me the Creature Keepers—the great protectors of all cryptids everywhere—abandoned one of their most vulnerable creatures just because their most popular cryptid couldn’t find his shoes one morning!” He cackled again, sending a chill down Abbie’s spine. She stepped forward.

  “You stole the Soil-Soles to cause all this destruction just so Izzy would be abandoned and make easy prey for that bogus bounty hunter?”

  “That was just one of many reasons, my dear,” Gusto said. “Another is much more straightforward—as of tonight, with the launch of this show, I have declared a war between us humans and your cryptids. And when one is at war, it is always good strategy to disarm the enemy of its most effective weapons.” He looked down and admired his sparkling Hydro-Hide and enormous Soil-Soles. “All the better if you can use your opponents’ weapons against them on the battlefield.” He tapped his foot on the platform. CLANG! The sub vibrated, shaking and creaking for an uncomfortably long time. “Also, I won’t lie. These puppies are a lot of fun.”

  “You forgot one thing, Gusto,” Abbie said. “Izzy isn’t alone in that jungle.”

  “That’s right,” Doris said. “He has a Creature Keeper with him.”

  “A great Keeper,” Eldon added.

  “Aye. The best!” Alistair whispered to Abbie, “We’re talking about Jordan, right?”

  “Ah, yes!” Gusto smiled. “Grimsley! You think the old man still has it, eh?”

  “For the last time, he’s my brother, not my grandfather!” Abbie snapped.

  “Ooh, everyone quiet!” Gusto looked across at the screen on Wilde Isle. “I don’t want to miss the best part!”

  33

  Gusto kept an eye on Abbie, Eldon, Doris, and Alistair as they turned to watch along with the rest of the crowd on the island.

  Onscreen, Buck was closing in on the one-eyed creature he’d been chasing through the jungle. He glanced at the camera, sweat beading up on his brow.

  “Folks, this is like nothing I’ve ever encountered in all my years hunting the Squatch,” Buck whispered. “The jungle is alive all around me. I can sense the savage beast’s heat, I can smell its breath. I can see its—HOLY SMOKIES, I CAN SEE IT!”

  Buck pointed. The spotlight shone on a large log. Sitting there perfectly still was a brown, furry apelike figure, with a single eye on its forehead and an enormous mouth on its torso. Buck approached. He could see it breathing heavily as he reached down for his lasso. He began to swing the lasso over his head as he continued to move in.

  WHOOSH! He flung it around the creature’s body and yanked it back, pinning the creature’s arms to its sides. It jerked a bit but didn’t fight. It sat perfectly still.

  Buck tossed his head back. “YEEEEHAWWWWW! Didja see that? I caught something! I did it! I really, actually caught a real, live creature! ON LIVE TV!”

  The crowd watching on Buck’s Wilde Isle went berserk. They let out a cheer that drowned out even Buck’s amplified voice. They hugged and high-fived one another, jumping up and down in ecstasy. This was a first for them, too.

  Atop the submarine, Gusto was still standing on the sail. He let out a loud, cruel laugh. “Oops! Looks like Grimsley wasn’t quite ready for prime time!”

  “You monster!” Abbie lunged for Gusto’s feet. Doris grabbed her and pulled her back. “We can’t let him get away with this!” Abbie yelled at Eldon, who was still staring at the screen. She thought he was in shock, but then she noticed a smile spread across his face. He started giggling. Then he burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny, boy?” Gusto sneered. “You lost! Your Creature Keeper ran away in fear, while my Creature-Catcher exposed what will be the first of many of your precious cryptids—in front of millions of witnesses, on live television! The war has begun! You’re right, that is hilarious!”

  “I don’t know much about television,” Eldon said, still smiling. “But is it true what they say? That the camera adds ten pounds? Because I’ve met the Mapinguari, and watching him on your show right now, it looks to me like he lost about two hundred.”

  Gusto snapped his head toward the screen. Buck was showing off for the camera, pretending to reel in the creature with his lasso, then posing heroically with it.

  Abbie noticed something else. As the camera moved in closer, she saw that the Mapinguari’s skin looked loose and frumpy. Its eye didn’t blink. It’s mouth didn’t move.

  Abbie smiled, too. “Jordan,” she whispered to herself.

  Gusto peered closer at the screen. He’d gone silent suddenly.

  Buck put a foot up on the log and posed next to the lassoed creature. “This one sure didn’t put up too much of a fight, did he, folks?” He put his arm around its furry shoulders and grinned at the creature sitting perfectly still in his lasso.

  “What’s this?” He looked behind the creature, his smile fading. He stood it up and turned it around and around, unwinding his lasso.

  On the back of the creature’s head was a white label pinned to a small zipper. Buck read it, on live TV. “‘G. was here’ . . . ?” he read into the camera, then looked at the creature. “Who in the world is ‘G’ . . . ?”

  Buck’s trembling fingers took hold of the zipper and slowly began to pull it down the center of the creature’s head, all the way down its back. The two fuzzy halves of the creature dropped away.

  Jordan Grimsley stood there in a pair of genuine Mapinguari adult-sized footie pajamas. He grinned at Buck. “Smile, Mr. Wilde. You’ve just been Gusto-Gagged!”

  Buck’s eyes went wide. He stumbled back and bumped into the camera. He pointed a trembling finger at Jordan. “Y-you’re not a creature! You’re just some kid in a costume!”

  “Technically, they’re adult-sized footie PJs. Great idea, dontcha think?”

  “WHAT IS THIS?” Buck yelled into the camera.

  “WHAT IS THIS?” Gusto yelled back at the screen.

  “NOW!” Eldon yelled to the Keepers.

  He and the others charged. Alistair heaved Doris up toward Gusto’s feet, while Abbie scaled the ladder on the far side of the sail. They both grabbed at Gusto’s Soil-Soles, and tugged with all their might. Eldon ran to the hatch and opened it. “Bernard!” he yelled down. “Open the left forward trim tank! NOW!”

  Gusto struggled to keep his balance with Abbie and Doris hanging off his massive feet. Suddenly, the submarine tilted hard to one side. Gusto stumbled. Abbie and Doris let go to avoid tumbling with him.

  CLANG! SPLOOSH! Gusto hit the side of the submarine and plunged into the water, disappearing into the dark depths of Harrison Lake.

  “Where is he?” a voice boomed out from behind. Bernard, Syd, Kriss, and t
he Badger Rangers climbed out of the hatch to lend a hand.

  “No!” Eldon shouted. “Get back below! Gusto’s in the water! It’s not safe up here! Everyone, back into the—”

  The submarine suddenly jolted, sending them all scrambling to hold on to the deck.

  Abbie pulled herself up and looked around. Although it was dark, she could see that the submarine was no longer in the lake. It was balancing on a fountain of water, fifty feet above the surface.

  “Oh, no . . .”

  “I HAVE JUST ABOUT HAD ENOUGH OF YOU PEOPLE!”

  Gusto’s low voice called out from the port side of the submarine. Like the sub, he was suspended by a thin spout of water, both of which he was controlling with his Hydro-Hide. “You ruined my debut, and you let down all those poor people on Wilde-Isle! So now I’m going to let you down—right on top of them!”

  The fountain moved through the water, tilting back to toss the sub onto the island, where the confused, innocent, clueless crowd was still staring up at the screen.

  “If any of you have any last words, now would be the time to—”

  “SKRONK!”

  “Skronk?” Gusto looked over, confused. “Who says ‘skronk’ as a last word?”

  A flash of green exploded out of the water. Nessie flew through the air, extending her long tail. It sliced through the stream holding Gusto like a samurai sword, cutting off his contact with the lake.

  The submarine immediately dropped onto the surface with a CRASH!

  Gusto tumbled back into the lake, and Nessie wasted no time diving after him. The others ran to the side of the sub and stared down at the spot where they disappeared. All was quiet for a moment. The water began to roil and bubble up. SPLOOSH! SPLOSH! KABOOM! Every few seconds, a massive burst of water would blow out of the surface, as if a depth charge had gone off. There was a major burst from deep below the surface, then nothing. The water got very still again. Abbie scanned the dark surface of the lake. She heard Alistair’s Scottish voice to her right, quietly muttering to himself.