Touchdown Tony Crowne and the Mystery of the Missing Cheerleader

by Peter Guy George

  She put her hand up and said, “Please Bouguereau, my real name is Vanessa. Please call me Vanessa and not madame. I am tired of playing these con games.” A little tear ran down her cheek.

  “That’s not her name!” Tisha shrieked from the shore. “Her real name is Matilda! Matilda Strumpenhoefer! With a name like that, no wonder she lived a life of crime! Ha, ha!”

  “Madame, please exit. Now.”

  Speaking in a meek and soft voice, Matilda said, “Oh, all right. I guess it’s all over. There’s nothing more I can do. I can’t convince you otherwise. So be it.” She put a hand to her forehead and said, “Oh, I suddenly feel a little lightheaded.” She looked at Tony, held her hand out and said, “Sonny, please help me out of the plane.”

  Without thinking, Tony grabbed her hand.

  “TONY! NO! DO NOT—” Bouguereau yelled.

  But it was too late. In one fluid move, she snatched his arm, jumped onto the dock, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and put him into a classic rear choke hold. Tony could barely breathe and any type of movement caused him to gasp for air. The best he could do was to grab her arm and pull down on it to lessen the tension on his neck; otherwise, he was helpless.

  “You let my buddy go!” Judd bellowed and advanced toward them with his arms held out like a wrestler.

  “One more step, buster, and your buddy is going to cease to exist!” She warned as she moved them from in front of the seaplane and over to the middle of the dock, closer to the shore.

  Bouguereau placed his hand on Judd’s chest to stop him and warned, “Do as she says, Judd. She is in charge now. She can do great harm to Tony if we do not do as she says. Please.”

  Judd, breathing hard, looked at Bouguereau and then at Tony, dropped his arms and glared at Matilda.

  “Thanks, Boogie. You really do know how to do the right thing at the right time. I’m impressed!” She smiled, cackled a bit then became serious. “Now, where are my keys? Do you have them? What’s your name, honey? Tony? Do you have my keys? Hmm?” She whispered into his ear in a no-nonsense voice, “I’m going to increase the pressure on your neck bit by little bit until you won’t be able to breath at all. Is that what you want?” Tony shook his head no. “Ah, okay then what you need to do is simple: get me my keys!”

  Tony reached into his pants pocket, found the keys and held them up to her. She snatched the keys from him and began to shuffle Tony toward the seaplane.

  Bouguereau pressed the button on his cane sword and said, “I cannot allow you to hurt Tony anymore.”

  Matilda sneered and with a snort said, “Oh, really? Just what are you going to do about it? You’re not in a good position to give me orders, Boogs!”

  Bouguereau unsheathed the sword, held it high in the air, took one step toward Matilda, whirled and in two deft strokes cut the mooring lines tethering the seaplane to the dock. He bent down, grabbed the line closest to him and held it in his hand. “Oui, it is my time to give orders! Unless you exchange Tony for me, I shall release this plane and let it and all of the money float away!”

  Matilda retreated a step, increased the pressure on Tony’s neck and thought about Bouguereau’s demand. “You know, that might be a better idea, Boogs. I wasn’t too keen on flying with this kid sitting next to me. It would be far more pleasurable to take you up in the plane.” Her eyes widened and she broke into a smile. “Yes, it would be much better to fly with you and then kick you out once we reach cruising altitude. Yes, that just might make up for my five-year stretch in prison!”

  As Matilda spoke, Tony signaled to Judd to look at him. Once he got Judd’s attention, he mouthed the name ‘Curly’ several times to him. Judd mouthed back, ‘How?’ Tony pursed his lips together and made a whistling face. Judd crinkled his face up and mouthed back, ‘I can’t whistle!’ Tony rolled his eyes from frustration and from her arm around his neck and mouthed back, ‘Try!’

  “You are indeed a sick person, Madame, but I am prepared to be your hostage. As a gesture of goodwill, I shall allow you to take possession of my sword.” Bouguereau stepped forward, knelt and drove the sword into the wooden dock leaving it in an upright position.

  “Okay, it’s a deal. Both of you back up to the edge of the dock; I don’t want any funny business from either one of you.”

  Judd backed up, turned toward the lake so she wouldn’t see him and tried to whistle, but the best he could do was silently blow air.

  “All right, little boy, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to let you go as soon as I grab that sword. Any heroics from you and I’ll make mincemeat out of you with that sword.” She choked him a little harder and said, “Understand?” Tony croaked out a yes and Matilda added, “Bend down. When I let go of you, I want you to lie down on the dock.” Matilda stooped with Tony and released him. Tony fell onto the dock on all fours, coughing and gasping for air.

  Grasping the sword and standing up, Matilda admired it and ran her finger down the blade. “Ooh, that is a sharp blade, Boogs. I nearly cut myself.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Judd making blowing faces, pointed the sword at Judd and demanded, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BOY?”

  “Nuthin’, ma’am. I was just tryin’ to catch my breath, you know? I think I was a hippo-venta-lightnin’ or somethin’.” Judd nervously smiled and blew through his lips again, just in case he could whistle. But, he couldn’t.

  Tony, with his head down, shakily got his breathing under control, peeked through his legs and down the dock to the shore. He saw Curly emerging from the mist, intently staring at Matilda. With his teeth bared and his ears pulled back, Curly stalked Matilda, slowly putting one paw in front of the other. Mustering all the energy he could, Tony took a deep breath and whistled in short bursts.

  Matilda whipped her head down and looked at Tony, brought her right foot up and knocked him over onto his back. “Are you touched in the head, boy? Stop that whistling—” A different sound caused her to pause and turn toward the shore.

  The instant Curly heard Tony’s whistle, he broke into a gallop and hit full speed in three strides, pounding down the dock with an otherworldly snarl echoing through the fog.

  Turning toward the sound, Matilda raised the sword high in the air ready to slash, confused as to what was racing to her. Recognizing that it was an animal about to attack her, she brought the sword down in a sweeping motion. Curly leapt and with his powerful jaw caught her forearm in that downward motion, digging into her flesh and knocking the sword high into the air. His forward motion spun her around and as he clamped harder into her forearm, she released an agonizing shriek. Curly, now hanging onto her arm, snarled again while whipping his head back and forth to induce more pain and subdue his enemy. Matilda, in a blinding panic, took a step back and tripped over Tony; sending her and Curly flying off the dock and into the cold lake water.

  As Matilda and Curly hurtled over the top of him, Tony saw the sword flipping into the air, stop and then make a descent directly for his head. Screaming, he rolled onto his side, put his arms over his head and held his breath.

  THWOCK!

  The point of the sword planted itself into the wooden dock and quivered slightly before coming to a rest.

  “Ant! Ant!”

  Feeling the dock vibrate from footsteps and hearing his name called, Tony felt his head all over and satisfied that he wasn’t bleeding, exhaled a sigh of relief. A flashlight beam lit up his face as his father bent over him and checked him for any injuries. “Are you all right?”

  Sitting up and rubbing his neck, Tony replied, “Yeah Dad, I think so.” Suddenly remembering everything that had happened, he blurted out, “Where’s Ash? Where’s Mom? Where’s Curly? What happened to that woman?”

  “Ash is doing fine. As a matter of fact, Ash had the presence of mind to call the police station after she escaped. The dispatcher radioed Officer London and we hightailed it over here. Your mother had a very involved day playing ‘detective’ and chasing those girls all over town. That’s why she didn’t
answer her phone. She turned off the ring so the phone wouldn’t give away her presence as an undercover cop. She’s at home with a stomach ache.”

  “A stomach ache? How did that happen?”

  “Well, she followed Felicity, Josie and Mel to Tiny’s Restaurant and your mother was so hungry, she said she offered to buy each of them dinner. She spoke with them for a long time, especially with Felicity. I guess she was able to make Felicity see the error of her ways and she wants to apologize to Ash as soon as possible.”

  “That’s good. But, how did she get a stomach ache?”

  “Oh that, well, it seems as though after dinner, Coach Tiny gave each of them a ‘super monster’ banana split to celebrate the football victory. She said it was so delicious that she wolfed the whole thing down in minutes. Needless to say, that’s what did it.” Anthony Jr. pointed to the shore and said, “Officer London is pulling Tisha’s mother out of the water as we speak. After a trip to the emergency room and a court date, she and her daughter will no doubt be spending a long time in jail.” With a broad grin he said, “Look who’s coming! He looks like a drowned rat!”

  Padding down the dock and shaking his coat every third step or so, Curly ran to Tony, happily jumped on him and licked his face. “Thanks, Curly! You’re a good boy!” After a second or two, Tony sniffed the air, laughed and said, “You know what, Curly?” Curly stopped licking his face and looked at him. “When you get wet, you stink! Yeah, you do! But, I’ll take a stinky ol’ dog any day rather than that nasty lady!”

  Bending down to pick up his sword, Bouguereau said, “Monsieur Crowne, Tony and Judd are very special. Not many boys their age would have been able to do what they did in this situation. If it wasn’t for their involvement and assistance, that woman and her daughter would have committed a major crime. Now, they will be held accountable and will not be able to con anyone for a significant period of time.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Judd replied, his face turning red as he pawed the dock with his foot and twisted his fingers together. “Detective Booby-roo-ski, any other kid woulda done the same thing!”

  Bouguereau smiled, grabbed Judd by the elbow, led him down the dock and said, “Monsieur Judson, how about a side of ribs at Tiny’s, eh? And while we are there, I shall give you a lesson or two in how to properly pronounce my name. Que oui!”

  “Thanks! I could eat a horse and a cow and a pig!”

  Anthony Jr. and Tony looked at each other and had the same thought at the same time. They stood up and yelled, “Hey! Wait for us!”

  Chapter 32- The Nickname or Curly Does It Again

  “Touchdown! Touchdown! Get up or you’ll be late!”

  Anthony Delano Crowne III rolled over in bed, looked at his alarm clock, sighed and thought, what day is today? Sunday? Why is Dad yelling about touchdowns at seven in the morning? There aren’t any NFL games on in the morning and why is he yelling at the tv set to get up? Tony yawned, his eyelids became heavy, his breathing slowed as he muttered, “What a dream: winning the big game, Ash getting kidnapped, Curly saving me from that weird woman—”

  “Touchdown! Touchdown! I’m coming up there in two seconds if you don’t get out of bed! We have to be at the church by eight!”

  Jolted awake by his Dad’s growly voice, Tony threw his covers off and leapt out of bed. He bounded across his room, opened his bedroom door and yelled, “I’m up, Dad! I’m up!” Tony absent-mindedly shut the door and sauntered over to his closet to pick out his church clothes. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head to get rid of his cobwebs and wondered why he was so tired. Then it dawned on him that it wasn’t a dream...it really had happened!

  The door flew open with a bang and Tony’s father strode into the room with the Sunday newspaper, grinning from ear to ear. “Touchdown! Touchdown!”

  “Dad, why are you saying ‘Touchdown!’ all the time? I don’t get it.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s your new nickname!” Anthony Jr. threw his hands up into the air like a football referee and yelled, “Touchdown! Touchdown Tony Crowne!”

  Tony put his hands up in embarrassment, narrowed his eyes and said, “Ew, Dad, I don’t know. Isn’t that kind of weird to give me a nickname like that?”

  Anthony Jr., smiling, brought his hands down, held the folded newspaper up before Tony and said, “I didn’t give you that nickname. It’s splashed all over the front page. Look!” He pointed to the bold headline at the top of the page and proudly said, “Touchdown Tony Crowne Saves The Day”. He unfolded the rest of the front page and pointed to the other bold headline and proudly said, “Touchdown Tony Crowne Saves Damsel In Distress”. He handed Tony the newspaper and added, “The only two stories on the front page and both of them are about you!”

  “Wow, that’s pretty neat. Hey, the same reporter wrote both stories—that Hunter Dunwoody guy, I’m not sure I liked him. He was kinda pushy at the restaurant last night and he kept chewing on that wet toothpick all the time.”

  “Well, most reporters are fairly pushy. They are usually under some sort of a deadline and they have to get answers fast. He’s just doing his job.”

  Skimming the newspaper stories, Tony looked up and said, “I’m glad Mr. Dunwoody wrote about Detective Bouguereau, Judd and Curly. I didn’t do everything. Judd really played a bigger role in winning the game, Detective Bouguereau is the one who really saved Ash and Curly really put the bite on that lady! That’s a good picture of all of us, too.”

  “Tony, a reporter not only has to write a story, but they have to sell a story too. I’m thinking Mr. Dunwoody saw an opportunity to tie both stories together. It’s a lot easier to sell one hero than a group of heroes. You just happen to be that singular hero. And, I bet they sold a lot of newspapers today!”

  Tony laughed and said, “That didn’t take long.”

  “What?” a puzzled Anthony Jr. asked.

  “You didn’t call me by my new nickname. You called me Tony instead of Touchdown.”

  Anthony Jr. became serious, crossed his arms and said, “Oh, that. I was kidding about Touchdown being your new nickname. No, I figured since you were getting older and becoming a young man, I should call you by your given name and not by a funny name like Ant or Touchdown.”

  “Cool! Thanks, Dad! I was just thinking about that a couple of days ago, but I wasn’t sure how to go about asking you to change your ways. Now I don’t have to!” Tony leaned toward his father and confided, “You know, I was really getting tired of being called an Ant.”

  “Oh, you were, were you?” Anthony Jr. put his hands on his hips and feigned being annoyed with Tony. “I’ll have you know that your Grandpa called me ‘Ant’ until I was the ripe old age of sixteen. Maybe I’ll just keep on calling you Ant for a little while longer.”

  “No way! You can’t go back on your word now, Dad. That wouldn’t be fair!” Tony waved his hands in front of him like a referee signaling an incomplete pass.

  Anthony Jr. smiled and said, “Fair? So now you think you’re old enough and big enough to tell me what I can and cannot do? Hah!” He dropped his right knee to the floor and threaded his arm between Tony’s legs, wrapping his other arm around Tony’s chest and lifted him above his head.

  Tony squirmed around and playfully called out, “Dad, Dad! Put me down! I take it back. You’re still bigger and older than me—”

  “Oh, I see. Now you’re calling me a fat, old man!” Anthony Jr. began to spin Tony around in the air faster and faster.

  Giggling with delight and with his bedroom whirling wildly around him, Tony only heard, “Oh, I see.—whoosh—Now you’re calling me—whoosh, whoosh—a fat, old man!—whoosh”

  Resting in a favorite spot next to the heat register in the kitchen, Curly’s ears shot to attention when he heard those excited voices coming from upstairs. Fun! Someone’s having fun! He woofed twice, stood up and barreled past Maria as she was preparing a cup of coffee for the Judge.

  Looking up to the kitchen ceiling, Maria shook her head and said, “Right, if th
ose three break something again, I’m going to wring each one of their little necks!” She walked over to the table and served the Judge his coffee.

  “Maria, please sit down. The last time those two made a fuss upstairs and that dog ran after them, well, you remember, don’t you?” The Judge’s eyes widened as he rubbed his lower back. “I’m still a little sore from that morning.”

  Galloping down the hallway to Tony’s bedroom, Curly spied his favorite target, Anthony Jr. twirling Tony around in the air.

  “Dad!—whoosh—Dad!”

  “What?—whoosh, whoosh.”

  “Watch out!—whoosh—It’s Curly!”

  When Curly leapt into the air, Anthony Jr. stopped, twisted his hips in the opposite direction and Curly sailed by them with only a glancing blow, landing on Tony’s new bed with a thud and bouncing off. Stopping in mid-twirl, however, made Anthony Jr. cross his feet in a weird way and he lost his balance, stumbling back into Tony’s bedside table and knocking the lamp off onto the floor where it shattered into several pieces.

  Anthony Jr. uttered a long, deep and drawn out “Uh-oh-h-h!” when the lamp broke and he brought Tony down to his chest so he could try to regain his balance. He took a half-step backwards, but stubbed his foot on an oblong shard from the lamp. He lurched forward and stepped into the lampshade lying on the floor.

  Curly thought this was all great fun, woofed and took another short run at Anthony Jr. who was standing on one leg while shaking his other leg to get the lampshade off. Curly landed a brutal one-two paw punch into Anthony Jr.’s midsection which caused him to go down for the count or, in this instance, a backward flop onto Tony’s bed.

  CRACK! BOOM!

  Once they stopped bouncing up and down on the mattress, Anthony Jr. and Tony stared at each other for a second, turned, surveyed all the damage in the bedroom and simultaneously sighed.

  “You know what?” Anthony Jr. dully asked.

  “Yep, I know.” Tony said.

  Shaking their heads up and down with a glassy stare, they said at the same time, “Mom’s gonna be mad!”