“Oh,” Elliot said. His parents might understand if he had to go to the Underworld to rescue Patches. They definitely would not understand his having only half a body. “Then we have to think of a different way to save her.”
“We will.” Mr. Willimaker cocked his head. “Where is your crown, Your Highness?”
Elliot turned to where Cole and Kyle were now at the side of the house. “Wait one minute.”
He ran to his brothers. They had dug a ditch in a circle, filled it with water, and then had put several ants on the dirt island in the middle.
“What are you doing?” Elliot asked.
“We want to see what the ants will do,” Cole said. “They want to get off the island but can’t swim.”
“Oh. Where’s the cr—I mean, the bracelet you took from my room? You didn’t leave it in there, did you?”
“No,” Kyle said. “Cole, you had it last. Where’d you put it?”
“I left it in the kitchen. But next time I looked it wasn’t there. It’s pretty shiny. Maybe Uncle Rufus got it.”
Elliot ran back and knelt beside Mr. Willimaker. “My uncle won’t lose it or anything. He’ll just carry it around for a while, and then I can get it back later.”
Mr. Willimaker’s face went green, like the color of canned peas. Not a good color for either peas or Brownies. “Do you know why your room disappeared?”
“Because the Goblins knew it was my room. They hoped I’d be in it.”
“A king always wears his crown, and if your crown was in your room, then they thought you were in your room. Wherever your crown is now, when the Goblins try again, they’ll think they’re attacking you.”
Elliot stood. “What will they do to the crown?”
Mr. Willimaker shook his head. “Goblins don’t make things disappear. They blow them up.”
Elliot began racing toward his house. “I’ve got to find Uncle Rufus!”
But there was no time. He fell onto the grass as a rush of wind knocked him flat on his back. It was followed by a boom. Then his entire house exploded.
It took a moment before Elliot realized exactly what had happened. He stood on shaking legs and staggered toward what just ten seconds ago had been his home. Now it was rubble, a heap of wood and broken pipes and chunks of furniture. Shreds of paper and fabric still rained from the sky like confetti, and there was an eerie silence, as if even the breeze didn’t dare make any sound.
In the center of where the Penster home had stood, the bathtub had somehow survived. On top of it was a mattress that had fallen from the second story.
“No, no,” Elliot whispered. He sat on what had once been a toilet and buried his face in his hands. The kitchen must have blown this way. He saw pieces of his mother’s dishes, half of a chair, and Reed’s large jar with his collection of leftover pickle relish in it. A crack ran down the jar where it had landed, but amazingly it hadn’t shattered.
If he could have chosen the two things to have left in this world, it probably wouldn’t have been a bathtub and a jar of pickle relish. But his luck seemed to work that way lately.
Then he heard a sound. It was muffled, but someone was speaking nearby. “Hello? Hello?”
It came from the bathtub. Elliot pushed the mattress off the top and then smiled with relief. Uncle Rufus was lying inside it, fully clothed, with the crown between his fingers.
“I didn’t realize we had such a lovely view of the sky from the bathroom,” Rufus said.
“The house blew up,” Elliot told him.
“Oh.” Uncle Rufus sat up and glanced at the mess around him. “So it did.”
“Didn’t you hear the explosion?”
Blushing, Uncle Rufus said, “I, er, passed gas. I thought that was what I heard.”
“Our whole house exploded,” Elliot said. “It was very loud.”
“Yes, but I don’t hear so well anymore. I thought it was me. What a relief.”
“That our house blew up?”
“No, that I don’t have gas. Although if I did, it would be a good thing that we’re out here in the open air.” Rufus remembered the crown between his fingers. “I think this is yours. I thought you might allow me to give it as a gift to Agatha. It was just so shiny, and I know she’d like it. But I shouldn’t have taken it without asking you.”
“I wish I could let you have it, but I can’t give this up now, even if I wanted to.” Elliot took the crown and then helped Rufus out of the bathtub. “I have to find everyone else.”
But everyone else found him. Wendy walked across the rubble holding Cole and Kyle by the ears. “Look what you two did,” she said to them.
“We didn’t blow the house up,” Cole protested.
“That’s just what someone who did blow up a house would say,” Wendy replied.
“We promise,” Kyle insisted. “Tell them, Elliot. You saw us outside. Did it look like we were blowing up the house?”
“They didn’t blow up the house,” Elliot told his sister. “Where’s Reed? Is he okay?”
Wendy released Cole and Kyle. “He left for work. Then I saw that he forgot his name tag, so I went running down the street to catch him. I was on my way back to the house when it exploded. What happened?”
Elliot hung his head. “I think the Goblins blew it up.”
“Fine time for making jokes.” Wendy put her hands on her hips. “Okay, well, let’s see if we can get everything cleaned up before Mom and Dad get home from work.”
“I didn’t make this mess, so I’m not cleaning it up,” Cole said.
“I’ll clean up my exploded room parts, but that’s all,” Kyle said.
“I don’t think it matters,” Elliot said. “Mom and Dad are pretty smart. I think they’re going to notice when they sit down for dinner tonight that THE ENTIRE HOUSE IS GONE!”
“Of course they’ll notice,” Wendy said. “But we’ve got to have dinner somewhere, and I think it’s better to have it in an organized blown-up house than a messy one. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, you’ll have to burn our dinner somewhere else tonight,” Elliot said. “I’m not hungry anyway.”
He stomped off back into the woods. Wendy called after him, but he had bigger problems than his sister’s hurt feelings. Mr. Willimaker waited for him at the edge of the trees, right at the border of sunlight and shadow. “What a waste of a perfectly good house,” Mr. Willimaker said. “Well, a somewhat good house anyway.”
Elliot turned back to the smoky pile of rubble. “When I said I’d become king, I didn’t know things would go this far. I’m just a kid. I can’t protect myself from the Goblins. Now it looks as if I can’t protect my family. I can’t save the Brownies either.”
“I have to tell you something,” Mr. Willimaker muttered nervously. “Something I should have told you at the very start. The truth is that Queen Bipsy didn’t exactly give me your name. She told me to choose the king, and I was the one who wrote in your name, because you saved Patches three Halloweens ago. I never thought the Brownies would let a human become king. I never thought any of this would happen.”
“So I’m not really the king?” Elliot asked.
“Not if you don’t want to be.”
Elliot shrugged. “I’m just not sure if I’m right for the job. But I have to finish what the Goblins started. After that, I’ll decide whether I’ll stay as king.”
“But what are you going to do?” Mr. Willimaker knotted his fingers together. If he twisted his hands any longer, he might never get them apart again.
Elliot pushed his jaw forward. “If I can’t go to the Underworld, then I’m bringing the Underworld here. We’re going to rescue Patches. Then we’ll find out who is helping the Goblins. Then we’re going to teach the Goblins a lesson once and for all.”
Mr. Willimaker bowed low to Elliot. “At least for now, my friend, I’m very glad that you’re our king.”
Elliot’s father wasn’t as angry as Elliot had expected him to be about their blown-up house. Or may
be he was just in shock.
“The staircase had a squeak in it,” he said, staring at where the staircase used to be. “I guess that’s not a problem now. But that’s all right if we don’t have a staircase, since there’s no more upstairs. If anyone did try to go up the staircase, they’d just fall off at the top.”
On the other hand, Elliot’s mother just shook her head and about every ten seconds would mumble, “Oh dear, oh dear.” Elliot also noticed she had stopped blinking. That probably wasn’t good.
The police had been at the house for three hours trying to figure out why it blew up. Uncle Rufus confessed that maybe his passing gas had somehow blown up the house, but the police said they were sure that wasn’t the cause. Passing gas has only been rumored to blow up a house one time in Sprite’s Hollow, and that was supposedly after the owner gorged on some very spicy chili for an entire year. Elliot knew that unless the police had Goblins on their list of suspects, they’d never find the real answer.
Wendy shambled by Elliot with a pitcher of water in her hands. Elliot wondered where she’d found it. “You thirsty?” she asked him.
“Nah. Sorry about what I said before, about you burning our food.”
Wendy smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be burning our food again in no time.” Then she hurried over to offer their mother a drink.
“I can’t believe it!” Agatha said, walking up behind Elliot. “Why, this is unexpected. I don’t remember cursing your house.”
Elliot sighed. “It wasn’t you, Agatha. The Goblins did this.”
“Oh. I hoped I had cursed your house to explode. Then I’d know I had my powers back.”
“You’ve always had them,” Elliot said. “You just weren’t doing your rhymes correctly.”
Agatha tilted her head toward Elliot. “What do you mean?”
“The last words in all your curses. They’re not the right words. You say ‘sung to by a pea’ when you mean ‘stung by a bee.’ Or ‘eat something hairy’ when you mean ‘meet something scary.”
Agatha drew back. “I meant something hairy. Like a Yeti.”
“Yetis aren’t real.”
Agatha laughed in a way that made Elliot think maybe she knew something he didn’t. A shiver ran down his spine, and he said, “Anyway, the only time you got the rhyme right is when you cursed me to meet the Goblin leader alone. I figure that’s still going to happen.”
Agatha’s voice softened. “Everyone gets cursed at times in their life, Elliot. The trick is, can you look past the cursing? Can you see it for what it is? Take your house, for example. Beyond the exploded pieces, what do you see?”
Elliot shrugged. “I guess I’m really lucky that nobody got blown up inside my house. And it wasn’t that great a house anyway, so we haven’t lost much.” He sat up straight as an idea came to him. “And maybe it’ll help me end this war. I know what I have to do!” He turned back to Agatha, and his eyes widened.
She was still Agatha, but her tattered dress was flowing and perfectly white. Her knotted gray hair was gone, replaced by long, silky blonde curls that waved softly in the breeze. Her warty, oatmeal skin was now creamy and soft. He couldn’t tell how old she was, because she was ageless. Uncle Rufus was right. She looked like an angel.
“You’re beautiful,” Elliot whispered.
“I always was,” she replied. “You just didn’t know it until now.”
“I need you to stay with me, please, Agatha. I have to fight the Goblins, and I need your help.”
“No, you don’t. All you need is the Brownies, and all they need is you. You are their king and you will save them.” With that, she clapped her hands together and began to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Elliot asked.
“To say good-bye to your Uncle Rufus. Now that I can curse again, I have places to go.”
“Hey, if you happen to see this boy named Tubs Lawless, give him an extra curse for me,” he called after her.
Agatha pressed her lips together and then said, “A boy like Tubs doesn’t need me to curse him. He has enough problems.”
Elliot shook his head. Tubs didn’t have problems. He was the problem. “Yeah? What problems does he have?”
Agatha turned and her clear, green eyes pierced straight through to Elliot’s mind. “His problem is that one day you’ll figure out who you are. Then he won’t be able to bully you anymore, Your Highness.”
Agatha gave Elliot a gentle bow and then walked over and spoke to Rufus. He looked sad for only a moment until she reached up and kissed his cheek. Then his face lit up. He beamed and wished her a warm good-bye.
Reed came to stand beside Elliot as they watched Agatha leave. “I’m glad she’s going,” Reed whispered. “I know letting her stay with us was the right thing to do, but she was the scariest-looking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“She’s not scary,” Elliot said. “She’s a beautiful young woman. I was lucky to have met her. We all were.”
Reed chuckled. “Careful. Whatever’s the matter with Uncle Rufus, it looks like you’re catching it too.”
After Agatha was out of sight, Uncle Rufus ran a hand across his head and then marched over to two policemen and talked with them. A few minutes later, they all walked over to Elliot’s parents.
“What did you steal now?” Mother said to Uncle Rufus. “We’ve got a bigger problem to deal with here.”
“No, it’s good news this time,” Uncle Rufus said. “These nice officers have arrested me so many times we’ve become quite good friends. They want to help us with our blown-up house. They said the jail is nearly empty tonight, so if we want to stay there for a day or two, they’ll let us stay for free.”
Mother shook her head, but Rufus added, “The meals are good, and the beds aren’t too bad. The only fellow in the jail right now is another friend of mine. Perfectly harmless.”
“What’s he in jail for?” Father asked.
“He steals the wool off sheep. Sneaks into their pen and shears them in the middle of the night. So as long as we don’t bring any sheep into the jail, we’ll be fine.”
Father shrugged. Mother sighed. Then Rufus smiled and clapped his hands together. “Okay! The Penster family is going to jail!”
“Yay!” Cole and Kyle gave each other high fives.
“Er, I’m going to stay with friends tonight,” Elliot said. His friends were the Brownies, but he didn’t think his parents needed that detail.
Mother folded her arms the way all moms do when they’re not sure something is a good idea. “Do I know these friends?”
“They’ve been to our house a lot lately,” Elliot said, quite truthfully.
Father brushed a hand over Elliot’s hair the way dads do when they’re trying to get Mom’s permission. “Just tell your friends that your family is in jail and to call if there are any problems.”
Mother smiled. “Elliot’s just an eleven-year-old kid, dear. I don’t think he’ll have any problems tonight.”
Elliot didn’t think so either. Not unless the Goblins succeeded in destroying all the Brownies and also got rid of him. That would definitely be considered a problem.
Father said, “Okay, but it sounds as if you’ll miss out on quite an adventure with us.”
“Don’t worry,” Elliot said. “I’m sure I’ll have an adventure of my own.” As soon as his family left, Elliot sat down with Mr. Willimaker in the woods. “How many Brownies can come here?”
Mr. Willimaker sighed. “I can’t get them to come. What Fudd told you before was true. I am a joke in Burrowsville. The last time I tried to warn everyone of danger, it turned out to be nothing but a little mouse. They won’t listen to me this time.”
Elliot leaned in to Mr. Willimaker. “You have to make them listen. Maybe you were a joke before, but now you have a message straight from the king. I know you can do this.”
Mr. Willimaker smiled. “You’re right. I can do it. I will do it.” He began counting on his fingers. “A few will need to stay behind and l
ook after the young ones. I suppose we might close the shops early and that will spare some more.” He looked up at Elliot. “Would a couple hundred Brownies be enough?”
Elliot smiled. “Yes, but I need them right away. We have a lot to do before dark. Tell everyone to wear work clothes.”
Mr. Willimaker straightened his back, making him at least a half-inch taller, which is a lot for a Brownie. He stuck out his chest and said, “Work clothes are a Brownies’ only clothes. Even if I lose my voice, I won’t stop talking until they agree to come.”
“I also need to meet with my royal advisors,” Elliot said, then added, “Do I have any royal advisors?”
“Just Fudd Fartwick, I suppose,” Mr. Willimaker said. “He was Queen Bipsy’s closest advisor.”
“I want to speak with him, then,” Elliot said. “And you as well. You have been my closest advisor.”
Mr. Willimaker bowed very low and then poofed himself gone. While he waited, Elliot sat down on the ground to think about his plan. He hadn’t done so much thinking since learning double-digit multiplication. This thinking was so much work that Elliot didn’t hear the footsteps creep up behind him.
A hand grabbed Elliot’s shoulder. He heard Tubs Lawless snarling at him in his usual mean voice, “Okay, Penster, now you’re gonna get what’s coming to you!”
When Tubs Lawless tells a kid he’s going to get what’s coming to him, that’s usually a sign that the kid will need several bandages. But Elliot’s bandages were somewhere in the blown-up house, so all he could do was turn around slowly and hope he didn’t end up wishing he had been in the blown-up house.
Tubs stretched out his hands toward Elliot, but in them was something Elliot hadn’t expected. A lemon pie.
“My mom said that we have to bring this to you, since your house blew up,” Tubs said. “I hope you’re happy. This was supposed to be my dessert tonight.”
“Er, thanks.” Elliot kept waiting for Tubs to do whatever he’d really come to do, like push the pie in Elliot’s face and laugh, or run away when Elliot reached for it.
Elliot and the Goblin War Page 9