by James Kahn
“Then I heard the Fratelli gang again, but since I'm a resourceful kinda guy, I leap for the window in a single bound, slink through like a ferret… and I'm free. I don't know why you guys didn't think of it.
“Anyway, I'm outside now, and it's night, and it's cold, and I'm scared out of my mind, so I just start running. Reminds me of the time I was one of the pacers in the Portland Marathon. O' course, that was before I had my, you know, my weight problem, and then I was never timed officially, but I used to be a pretty good hoofer, especially cross-country. So I try to keep that in mind as I tear ass outta the lighthouse. I run through the graveyard, which is no picnic, I run through the woods, I run up the hill, I get all the way to the damn road before I remember we had bikes down there and I coulda been riding. But I'm too scared to go back now, so I just keep running.
“Must've run ten minutes before a car finally shows. So I stand right in front of the headlights and wave my arms to flag it down, until it finally stops right in front of me, and this guy gets out, only I can't see him too good on account of the headlights are on bright and right in my eyes. So the guy says, ‘Is there something wrong?’ So I say, ‘Look, mister, I need a ride. My friends and I just had a run-in with these really gross people, you might've heard of 'em, the Fratelli Gang: Anyway, we found their hideout, so if you could gimme a ride to the police station…’
“Meanwhile I'm walkin' up to the car while I'm talkin', and as soon as I get past those blinding headlights, I see the car is the same damn car with all the bullet holes in it from back at the lighthouse. Talk about feeling stupid. Geez.
“So I look up, and sure enough, it's Jake Fratelli standing there, with Francis right behind him. I turn to run, and I'm fast, but they're faster, so before I know it, they've grabbed me and they're stuffing me into the trunk of the car, and I'm yowling, but there's nobody else around.
“Except right next to me in the trunk is that same damn FBI corpse. But naturally he wasn't listening.
“So we go for a short, painful, bouncy ride back to the hideout, and they take me down to the basement again, right into the counterfeiting room. Where Mama's waiting. Right about now I'm wishin' I knew a prayer, but I don't, so I just sorta smile as good as I can and hope maybe they'll just kidnap me and adopt me as their outlaw son and I can turn myself in during our first holdup. But they don't wanna adopt me. They just wanna torture me.
“So they tie me into this hard chair with an old extension cord, and Jake holds a gun to my head. Geez, my mom won't even allow a gun in our house. Made it tough the night I had to disarm those two cat burglars when my parents were at the ballet last New Year's Eve. These guys climbed in the upstairs bathroom window, but I heard 'em from the den, and I knew they'd have to pass the linen closet on the way to Mom's jewelry, so I hid there, and when they passed, I threw one of those huge wraparound towels over their heads and knocked 'em cold with the Spic-N-Span bucket.
“But, anyway, there's no way I'm gonna get the Fratellis' guns now, 'cause they got me tied up in a flash, and I'm thinkin', this is not going well.
“Then the old lady puts a blender on the table in front of me and plugs it in and turns it to ‘Liquefy’ and jams an eggplant into it, and we all watch the eggplant turn to mush. And I hear Mama saying, ‘First we'll start with your pudgy little fingers, then your round little hands, then your fleshy arms…’ Geez, I want to puke just thinkin' about it.
“Then she turns off the blender and says, ‘Now you gonna tell me where your little friends are?’
“‘In the fireplace!’ I tell her in about three-tenths of a second. I mean, no offense, guys, but I'm talkin' scared as in scared shitless.
“But, the thing of it is, she doesn't believe me! ‘Don't lie to me, boy!’ she says. ‘Honest,’ I tell 'em, ‘we got this map from Mikey's dad, and it said that underneath this place is a buried treasure, so—’
“‘Don't give us any o' your bullshit stories,’ Jake says, and starts shakin' me. ‘We want the truth! Spill your guts, boy! Tell us everything! Everything!’
“He's screamin' and shakin' me, and I don't know what he's gonna do, and I'm tellin' the truth but I gotta make them believe it, so I figure when he says everything, I gotta tell everything. So I do. ‘Okay, okay,’ I say, ‘in the third grade I cheated on my history exam, in fourth grade I stole my uncle's toupee and glued it on my face when I played one of the wise men in our school Christmas play, and then in the fifth grade I pushed my brother down the stairs and blamed the dog.…”
“So I go on like that for a while and they're lookin’ at me like I'm nuts, and I'm really startin' to feel bad, so then I really start thinkin' of things I did that I'm ashamed of, stuff I never told anybody before, so I tell 'em about the time I mixed up this fake puke out of pea soup and soy sauce and corn niblets and hid it in a can in my jacket and went to the movies and sat up in the front-row balcony and made this huge ralphing sound and dumped it over the side on a bunch of people in the audience, which made them start gettin' sick and throwin' up all over each other. Geez, it was just horrible, I never felt so bad in my life… so I'm tellin' this to the Fratellis, and it makes me feel so bad, I start bawlin' like a baby. Can you believe it? What do you mean, you can?
“Anyway, old Mama just looks at me so angry, her eyes cross, and she grabs my chin between her thumb and her first knuckle, just like Aunt Rose used to do, only Mama squeezes like she's trying to make juice, and she says, ‘Look, kid, I still ain't heard what I wanted. Now where are your friends?’
“I don't know what else to say to make her believe me, so I just say, ‘I told ya, in the fireplace. They took out the logs, and then the grating, and then they crawled into some secret passageway.…’
“So she says, real sarcastic, ‘And then I suppose they put the grating and the logs back and started up the fire from inside.…’
“‘Yeah, right, just like that,’ I say, but I don't think she really has the picture yet. No way. She turns to Francis and says, ‘Hit “Puree.”’ So Francis grabs the blender and pushes the ‘Puree’ button, and it starts whippin' the eggplant into eggplant foam, and Mama says, ‘Now do I get the truth, or do you get added to the Fish Surprise?’
“So she grabs my hand and holds it over the blender. I'm screamin'. I'm cryin'. I'm making' deals with God, like just lemme outta this and I'll go to temple every Saturday, or just make these dudes disappear and I'll take out the garbage all year. Stuff like that. But they just keep pullin' my fingers closer to the blades. I figure at least now I'll have an excuse to stop takin' violin lessons.
“But all of a sudden there's this noise, like the sound of a blender the size of Rhode Island—and it's comin' from the fireplace. My first thought is, Geez, maybe some really big troll is gonna throw us all into this huge blender. But then the logs and the grating like explode out of the fireplace and bounce across the floor, and a flock of bats, no lie, and I mean a major flock, shoots out of the hole in the fireplace floor and swirls around the room the way you dream about when you eat pizza too close to bedtime, and then they finally land up in the rafters where it's dark, and Francis runs over to the hole in the fireplace and looks down into it, and he says, ‘Hey, the kid's not shittin'.’
“Not shittin', hell. I'm shittin' bricks. But I'm saved by these bats. This is actually the second time I've been saved by bats. First time was in that old bell tower up on Lynch Road. I was up there with a net, tryin' to catch a bunch of 'em 'cause I heard the university was doin' experiments with 'em and payin' five bucks a head, so I had a whole sackful. It's pretty easy catchin' 'em in the day, 'cause they're sleeping—and I fell off the damn tower, but I shouted so loud, I woke up the ones in the sack I was carrying, so they started flappin' and turned the sack into this sort of spastic balloon, which let me down easy. I let 'em all go after that. I mean, it was the least I could do after they saved my life, even if they didn't know it.
“So, anyway, the Fratellis realize now that these bats must've come from somewhere, s
o they realize I'm not such a know-nothing after all.
“So they check it out and find out there is a passageway down there, and I'm so happy, I'm shittin' pearls. But then Mama opens the cupboard, and I can see it's filled with guns and more guns. They all take one. Then Mama says, ‘If we find those kids, remember, no witnesses—we'll let all the air outta their Calvins.’
“Then she cackles like somethin' from Dungeons and Dragons, and no lie, she points the gun at my head. All at once everything I've ever eaten flashes before my eyes, but then she lowers her pistol. ‘Maybe I better keep him alive,’ she says, ‘just in case he's lyin'. Put him in with your brother.’
“So Jake starts to lift the chair I'm tied into, but the doubloon falls out of my pocket. Mama picks it up, she bites it, she looks it over real close. But she can't figure it. ‘What's this, a Cracker Jack prize?’ she says.
“‘We found it with the map,’ I tell her. ‘It's got somethin' to do with the buried treasure.’
“Mama gives it over to Francis. ‘You're supposed to be the minting expert,’ she says.
“He studies it real careful, even more than she did. His eyes get wide. ‘I'll be damned,’ he says.
“‘That's for damn sure,’ says his mother, ‘but what's the story on this coin?’
“‘You see this mark here?’ he shows her. ‘This here's the mark of William B. Pordobel, better known as One-Eyed Willy.’
“‘I've heard of him,’ says Jake.
“Francis nods, real slow. ‘One-Eyed Willy was one o' the most ingenious pirates of the seventeenth century. The guy started out as a court jester but was banished from five Spanish courts because of his off-color stories and practical jokes.’
“‘You woulda liked him, Ma,’ says Jake, and they all laugh.
“Francis keeps talkin', though. ‘So Willy formed this pirate band, and they set sail on a ship named the Inferno. Willy and his men marauded hundreds of the king's ships, they amassed a fortune, a treasure worth millions. Then, legend has it, three of the king's ships chased him farther and farther north, until he got all the way up around this area—and while being attacked, Willy steered his ship into a huge, hidden, underground cavern, which the Navy ships sealed with cannon fire. Willy and the survivors spent the next couple years hiding out, repairing the Inferno. They explored all the natural catacombs and dug new tunnels and loaded 'em all with booby traps, to protect the treasure and prevent attack. One of his men escaped to tell the story, and that story's been passed down generation to generation for over three hundred years.’
“‘And how do you know so much about it?’ says Mama.
“‘Willy melted down all the gold he stole and minted his own coins,’ says Francis. ‘And this is one of 'em, and I know because that's what I know, Ma.’
“‘Well, you put this chub in with your brother,’ she says, ‘and then we'll see if we can find us some snoopy kids and maybe a few pieces of eight in the bargain.’
“So she starts climbin' down into the passageway under the fireplace, holdin' a gun and a flashlight, while her two sons cart me off in my chair, out of that room, down the hall, and through the next door into the next room. The room we heard the growling in before.
“So this guy is sitting in there with his back to the door, kind of a hulky kinda guy, and he's watchin' TV, with his face about two inches from the screen. Some kinda swash-buckler movie, with everyone accusing everyone else and drawing swords and demanding satisfaction. I'd like to demand a little o' that myself, but no such luck. Jake and Francis set me down right next to him, but he don't even notice, he's so into this movie. And I can't exactly see his face, 'cause it's turned in toward the screen.
“Jake says, ‘Hey, don't sit so close to the screen, it'll stunt your brain,’ and then him and Francis laugh and leave.
“So me and this guy, we just sit starin' at this movie for about five minutes, and I'm gettin' kinda nervous and wonderin' what he's thinkin' about, 'cause, to tell the truth, the movie's not that great, so I figure it can't hurt to make friends with the guy, so I smile, and I say, ‘Hi, how ya doin'? My name's Lawrence. Everybody calls me Chunk, though. Guess that's 'cause I eat too much Twinkie juice.…’
“And then all of a sudden this guy turns to face me, bellowing this righteous growl. Unbelievable. His head is bent outta shape, and his eyes are in the wrong places, and he has these Venusian ears and a patch of hair at the top of this pointy skull and a nose like marzipan and rubber lips with spit dripping down his chin and crooked yellow teeth, and I am totally grossed out.
“I scream. I gag. I try to stand. I try to pass out. No soap. He looks like he's just about to rip out my heart. But he opens his mouth instead. And I'm not shittin' you, but he smiles. And then he giggles. At least I think it was a giggle.
“You know what? I think he liked me.
“‘So. What's your name?’ I say. So he points to this old magazine page tacked up on the wall, I think it's from outta National Geographic or somethin'. And it's a painting of this huge, furry prehistoric animal bein' eaten alive by a saber-toothed tiger while they're both fallin' into this bubbling tar pit, and the printing under the picture says, ‘Giant sloth, too heavy to escape the tar, provides a last supper for the ferocious saber-tooth, who doesn't yet realize his own fate.’
“So he points to the giant sloth, and then he points to himself, and he gets this look on his face that's like sort of ashamed and sorta proud at the same time, and he says, kinda growly, “Sloth.” And he smacks his chest a couple times and says it again.
“So I look closer at the picture, and you know—there's kind of a family resemblance.
“So then he changes the channel. He finds Craig Claiborne making a chocolate fudge cake, and he sets in to watch it awhile. And I swear, I didn't realize how hungry I was until I see old Craig pouring this creamy frosting over the double layers, with these big old cherries mushed into the filling. So my mouth starts watering, I can't help myself, and I can't take my eyes off the set, either. So we're both sittin' there just glued to the screen, and I'm actually startin' to like this guy a little, I mean, he's not really such a bad dude and we're sort of gettin' into this show, and suddenly he turns to me and talks like he was suckin' on a Brillo pad. ‘Chocolate,’ he says. Then he smiles again.
“So I smile back. This guy's all right. I mean, I don't trust a guy who doesn't like chocolate. And then I remember something else—I've got a candy bar in my back pocket. My hands are tied, but not so's I can't get my fingers around to dig into that pocket. So that's what I do, and I manage to pull out this crushed Almond Joy between two fingers.
“So I show it to Sloth, and he beams me this huge grin, and screams out, ‘Baby Ruth! Baby Ruth!’ It was a heartwarming sight, I tell ya.
“So I toss him the candy bar, but I can't move my wrist too good, so it lands halfway between us on the floor. And I can't get it 'cause I'm tied in this chair, and he can't get to it 'cause he's chained to the wall and it's out of his reach. So he starts growlin' and slobberin'—I mean, he is pissed. He starts pullin' at his leg chains in the wall. Nothin' happens at first, but he's gruntin' and strainin' and pullin' harder, and pretty soon the wall starts to give. The cement cracks and crumbles, the boards creak. The bolts fly out of the wall, and the chains drop to the floor. And that sucker is free.
“‘Geez, mister,’ I say, ‘you're even hungrier than me.’
“He just laughs, though, kinda like a wheeze, and with a couple good tugs, he pulls his wrist irons apart, too. So now these chains are dangling from his arms and legs, and he goes for the chocolate. Rips that Baby Ruth in two and gobbles down half of it right away, paper and all.
“I'm still tied into the damn chair. So you know what he does then? He puts the other half of the candy bar in my mouth. And man, nothin' ever tasted so good.
“Then he stands up over me, and I swear to God he must be eight feet tall. No, really. Scared me so bad, I stopped chewin'. So he reaches down for me, and for just a se
cond I think I'm buyin' the farm. He grabs me by the shoulders, lifts me and the chair up until my face is just even with his, which seems like close to stationary orbit, holds me there a few seconds, and then—now get this—he kisses me on the lips.
“Now don't get me wrong, it's not like perverted or anything. It's like he's tryin' to be friends. I mean, it kinda freaked me out at first, but then he just throws his head back and giggles, real friendlylike. The thing is, though, his breath smells like the locker room during football season. So I mention that to him. So he drops me.
“So the chair smashes on the floor, and I stand up, free as a bird. But before I can split, Sloth grabs my hand and pulls me outta there, down the hall, and back into the first room.
“Nobody else is there now. I figure they've gone down into the passage under the fireplace. Sloth runs to the freezer and opens it and smiles at me kinda sheepish and devilish at the same time, and says, ‘T-bone.’ Then he pulls this frosted plastic bag out and gets this thick T-bone steak outta the bag, and it's frozen solid, man, it's like granite, but he don't care, he takes this huge bite out of it and starts crunchin' away like it was a Dorito or somethin'.
“Then he holds it out to me, like he's offerin' me a bite. I'm real polite, though. I figure he's not the kinda guy you wanna insult. ‘Ah, no,’ I say, real smiley, ‘you keep it. I like mine not so crunchy.’
“So he just shrugs and finishes eating the thing, bones and all. Guy's got a lot to learn about manners. Anyway, I notice there's a phone on the table, so I pick it up and dial the police. I mean, what luck finally. So the sheriff himself answers. ‘Hello? Sheriff?’ I say, ‘I'm at the old Lighthouse Lounge, and well, I'd like to report a… first, there's a murder. Actually, two murders. Plus we found the hideout of those Fratelli people. Then—’
“‘Wait a minute, just hold on there,’ he says. ‘Is this you again, Lawrence?’