“Don’t we have any women and children?” Professor Coffin demanded.
“We were supposed to throw you over the side for the sharks before the storm,” Madison said.
Professor Coffin looked shocked.
“While the planet Jupiter approached,” I clarified. “Do you remember that?”
Professor Coffin looked confused. It was like someone forgot to change his batteries, the old robot.
“Before the flaming whale,” Madison said.
“That was different,” Professor Coffin said while powering back to life. “I deserved that.”
It was like we had just altered the course of the story by refusing to go into Old Havana in glass. I knew we were on the right path with that decision.
“Maybe we should trade him to No Thing,” I suggested. “Seeing as No Thing doesn’t exist.”
“How many glass beads should we ask for one No Thing to give us for another No Thing?” Madison asked.
“You would be surprised what my head will fetch in these parts,” Professor Coffin grinned. “Everyone likes a shrunken head.”
“You should have thought of that before embarking on this journey,” I said.
“I would have never come,” Professor Coffin said. “I’m not welcome in this world. Don’t be a fool, man. What’s coming doesn’t like me. They sense my resentment of their refinement. Why can’t I be classy too? It’s just not right.”
“Why let self-preservation get in the way of a good adventure?” Madison asked.
“That’s the old explorer spirit,” Professor Coffin grinned.
“Keep throwing your life to the wind,” I said. “And you’ll be a great pirate like Professor Coffin some day.”
“They’ll sing sea shanties about you in rum shacks all over the map,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“Drunken pirates singing about me in goblin bars,” Madison said. “That’s quite the honorific.”
“They might smoke cigars in your honor too,” I said.
“Witchcraft needs you,” Professor Coffin grinned.
“A lot of understudies turn on their mentors,” Madison said.
“It’s probably not a good idea to try to mentor us,” I suggested.
“I must pass my wisdom on to the younger generation,” Professor Coffin said.
“Bad idea,” Madison said.
“I haven’t had a good idea in four hundred years,” Professor Coffin shrugged.
Chapter
“Perhaps you should go ashore before one of us attacks you,” Madison said.
“Wander off on your own volition under threat of death,” I said.
“We’ve already crossed that bridge with spectacular results,” Professor Coffin said.
“I should have never killed you,” I said.
“That was your mistake,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“You should have let him rot in the doldrums forever,” Madison said.
“But then where would we be right now?” Professor Coffin asked.
“Back on Coffin Island,” I said.
“Where we belong,” Madison said.
“You didn’t like Coffin Island,” Professor Coffin said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Madison said.
“You didn’t like being a witch,” Professor Coffin countered.
“We were the top of the food chain there,” I said.
“Now we’re the bottom,” Madison said.
“We’re terrified to move,” I said.
“We’re basically wombats without any powers,” Madison said.
“You’re complaining about being a hitch?” Professor Coffin asked.
“This is caveman’s world,” I said.
“The architecture is finer than that,” Professor Coffin said. “Cavemen didn’t live in a sparkling city of glass.”
“It’s a trap,” Madison said.
“I wouldn’t tell that to the architects,” Professor Coffin said. “I’m sure they think more highly of their work than that.”
“This world is run by something that won’t even acknowledge us,” Madison snapped. “What don’t you get?”
“Witchcraft happens,” Professor Coffin shrugged. “You are born into nothing. You die into nothing. Currently you must escape from nothing.”
“He’s been hatching this plot all along in a weird unknowing way,” Madison said. “I just don’t know if we should keep him around.”
“I don’t think it matters,” I said.
“You won’t get to the final school without me,” Professor Coffin said haughtily.
“I tend to agree,” Madison said.
“We might be done with this whole farce,” I said.
“We just end ourselves right here?” Madison asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” I said.
“That’s why I don’t apply myself,” Professor Coffin said firmly. “My efforts even when I don’t make any go unappreciated. Why should I work for everyone’s disdain when I can easily get it doing nothing?”
“Did you have any idea what was going on here, Professor Coffin?” I asked. “Let’s just deal with that.”
“Could you rephrase your question for clarity?” Professor Coffin asked.
“Did you know that the finishing school was a world of glass,” I asked. “I can’t make it any plainer than that.”
“A world of glass that cares absolutely nothing about us,” Madison added.
“A world of glass devoid of occupants,” I shouted.
“I might have suspected that the upper class witches from Crypt Island were doing something unsavory,” Professor Coffin admitted. “But I was a bit too tipsy to pay attention to my inkling.”
“What was the tip off?” I asked.
“My empty rum bottles,” Professor Coffin said. “What else could it be?”
“What were you doing with your empty rum bottles?” I asked.
“I threw them out the privy door into the emerald ocean in the doldrums,” Professor Coffin said. “Where else would I litter?”
“Did you ever see any upper class witches from Crypt Island in the doldrums?” Madison asked.
“I might have seen a few ships,” Professor Coffin said.
“Did you ever wonder what they were doing in the doldrums?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Professor Coffin said. “They’re running the whole show.”
“Did you ever see them take any rum bottles?” Madison asked.
“I might have seen them take quite a few,” Professor Coffin admitted.
“It didn’t strike you as suspicious that the witches that are running the whole show were in the doldrums and stealing your empty rum bottles?” I asked.
“What are you driving at?” Professor Coffin asked.
“Was this before or after you heard the rumor that Crypt Island was moving around?” Madison asked.
“It was after I heard the rumor,” Professor Coffin said. “Now you’re on the right track, man.”
“How are you certain?” I asked.
“My memories of the rogue faculty activities in the doldrums are so hazy,” Professor Coffin said. “I can barely recount them.”
“You’re saying that the witches running the whole show are former faculty from the Coffin Island School for witches?” I demanded.
“What else would they be?” Professor Coffin asked. “I banished them.”
“You banished faculty from The Coffin Island School for Witches?” I demanded.
“They got too big for their britches,” Professor Coffin huffed. “It was time for them to strike out on their own. They were making too many demands for tenure. And they were too powerful for me to hold down.”
“You would think that you would take particular note of the faculty witches activities in the doldrums after you had banished them,” I said.
“Particularly if they were too powerful for you to hold down,” Madison noted.
“When you banish something,” Professor Coffin said. “You
put it out of your mind completely.”
“I didn’t know that banishment was like amnesia,” I said.
“What good is banishment if you’re constantly thinking about it?” Professor Coffin asked.
“The extremely powerful witches that you banished, stole your empty rum bottles and made a trap for us,” Madison said. “How are you responsible for that?”
“Exactly,” Professor Coffin said. “I banished the blasted faculty.”
Professor Coffin wiped his hands on his ancient drawers for emphasis.
“The faculty witches that you banished were the most powerful witches on Coffin Island?” I asked.
“How else could they pull this off?” Professor Coffin demanded.
“They’ve banished us in return,” Madison snorted.
“I’m glad that we have cleared up that misunderstanding, pupils,” Professor Coffin said. “Shall we go get a drink in Old Havana in glass? Celebrate our banishment.”
“You’ve been building this world with your drunken waste,” I said. “Do you recognize that now?”
“What good is drunken waste if it isn’t building something?” Professor Coffin demanded. “I was the Headmaster of that magical mess. You can’t expect a man not to drink.”
“You’re willing to admit that you built Old Havana in glass?” I asked.
“I’d like to take all the credit,” Professor Coffin said. “But it wouldn’t be right.”
“There has to be honor among pirates,” Madison said.
“Of course,” Professor Coffin grinned. “However we drop the pretense when we are stabbing each other in the back which is what you will be doing to my tender torso shortly, I suspect.”
“You only did a small portion of the total drinking?” I practically shouted.
“I fashioned a few blocks of Old Havana in glass,” Professor Coffin agreed. “Take up the rest of that splendid city with the other members of the faculty. The witches that I didn’t banish drank aplenty.”
“The stitches are probably responsible for the opera house,” Madison snorted.
“Those savages like opera,” Professor Coffin agreed. “They enjoy screeching along with it.”
“You only drank a few blocks of Old Havana in glass into existence,” I snapped. “That’s your excuse?”
“I wonder which are mine,” Professor Coffin marveled.
“Perhaps there are some plaques commemorating your consumption,” Madison said.
“I certainly hope so,” Professor Coffin said. “It took determination to drink that much rum. I can’t say that I would embark on that again. It was atrocious to be intoxicated for centuries. I was blacked out for decades on end. And the morning after is turning out to be a horror of accusations.”
“You also drank Coffin Island to ruin,” I said.
“You can’t hold a man responsible for what he did when he was drunk,” Professor Coffin shrugged. “It’s impolite.”
“You drunken bum,” Madison said.
“We drank Crypt Island into existence,” Professor Coffin countered. “Look at our fine work.”
“We can’t say that being a drunken bum doesn’t accomplish anything,” Madison said.
“It made us human again,” I said. “Put us in a hostile world.”
“Allowed the rogue faculty to take over,” Madison said.
“They’ve taken our powers from us too,” I said.
Chapter
“Smoking cigars certainly had something to do with it too,” Professor Coffin grinned. “I wouldn’t dismiss that as a factor. You pupils have to take some well-earned credit too. I detect a hint of old man stogie everywhere.”
“Old Havana in glass hints at it,” Madison said. “Even I have to admit that.”
“Old Havana in glass is also a giant ashtray?” I gasped.
“The pupils smoked this world into existence too,” Professor Coffin grinned.
“We smoked this world into existence?” Madison gasped.
“Don’t blame me,” Professor Coffin said. “I strongly urged the pupils to keep their consumption to one box per day.”
“You urged them to smoke twenty-five cigars a day?” I practically shouted.
“I tried to be reasonable,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“We couldn’t calculate the days because of the hourglass,” Madison sighed. “I was smoking ten boxes per day.”
“Some days the hourglass ran amok,” Professor Coffin agreed. “I had to up my rum consumption to an excruciating level. Fifty galloons was my record.”
“You smoked two hundred and fifty cigars per Coffin Island day?” I shouted. “You drank fifty galloons of rum a day?”
“Some pupils smoked faster than me,” Madison said.
“Some faculty drank faster than me,” Professor Coffin said.
“Blame the hourglass,” Madison said.
“Not us,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“You couldn’t do anything about the situation?” I demanded.
“I strongly urged the pupils to enjoy their cigars,” Professor Coffin said. “I couldn’t do anything with the faculty other than banish the powerful ones as I have already outlined.”
“This is witchcraft,” Madison snorted.
“I can’t believe that witchcraft turned us back into humans because of bad habits,” I said.
“What good are bad habits if they aren’t destroying something?” Professor Coffin asked. “Why keep them if they’re improving things?”
“Then they would be good habits,” Madison snorted.
“Pirates don’t cultivate those,” Professor Coffin said.
“I want to kill the entire faculty again for letting this happen,” I said. “And then pull them out of their coffins and kill them again.”
“That was my style,” Madison said. “Kill them until they’re quivering in their coffins.”
“I want to incinerate them all,” I said.
“I think the flaming whale already took care of that,” Madison said.
“I knew that I liked that flaming whale for a reason,” I said.
Flame on, my brother. Flame on. Then just keep on flaming on.
“You can’t say that my administration didn’t accomplish anything,” Professor Coffin said. “Now you’re bloodthirsty savages.”
“You wanted to turn us into bloodthirsty savages?” I asked. “Demanding for your death?”
“The fine results speak for themselves,” Professor Coffin said. “Welcome back to the planet Earth, pupils.”
“Albeit one of witch construction,” Madison said.
“I’m sure this world is going to be instructive,” I said. “Seeing as the faculty witches that left Coffin Island constructed it out of our refuse to punish us.”
“They won’t even acknowledge us,” Madison shouted.
“I wonder where the hourglass is in this world,” Professor Coffin mused.
“You’re probably standing on it, dummy,” Madison said.
“Doctor Fast is the hourglass,” Professor Coffin gasped.
Professor Coffin stood on the shipwreck a little more gently like he didn’t want to disturb the delicate mechanism within. He couldn’t possibly be running the test. Professor Coffin was just too stupid. He had to be a proxy. Or perhaps that was the genius. Put an idiot doorman in-charge. Nobody could ever get past him because the door was buried under all his unfathomable confusion.
“It’s why we can’t get off the shipwreck,” Madison snapped.
“Time has halted for us,” I agreed.
“Doctor Fast is a lovely hourglass,” Professor Coffin marveled. “I can’t wait until the cuckoo pecks my finger. I wonder which porthole I should put my finger into.”
“You’re the cuckoo in this world,” Madison snorted.
“Shall I bite my own finger?” Professor Coffin asked.
“How did we let this travesty happen?” I asked.
“Our previous travesty wasn’t difficult enough?” Madison a
sked.
“We had to create an even worse travesty?” I asked.
“And make it static which is particularly infuriating,” Madison said.
“You complained too much about being a witch on Coffin Island,” Professor Coffin shrugged. “Now you are going to complain about being a hitch on Crypt Island? How can witchcraft satisfy you? Riddle me that.”
“Can we get back to Coffin Island?” Madison asked.
“It probably won’t be the same,” I said.
“Of course not,” Professor Coffin said. “That version has run its course for now.”
“How many versions are there?” I asked.
“I suppose it’s endless,” Professor Coffin shrugged.
“You’ve never tested the limits?” I asked.
“I was minding my own business in the doldrums until you showed up,” Professor Coffin said. “You don’t fool with witchcraft.”
“What should we do?” I asked.
“Fool with witchcraft,” Madison said. “What else can we do?”
“There you two go again,” Professor Coffin shrugged. “A cutlass will be going through me momentarily.”
“We know enough not to kill you in this world,” I said.
“You’re going to live through this,” Madison sneered.
“The next one would be a better place to kill me,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“How do we get to the next test?” I asked.
Professor Coffin shrugged.
“Witchcraft is evolving away from us as we speak,” Madison said. “We have to get it back before it gets away.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Professor Coffin cautioned. “Let it go.”
“We’re not letting it go,” I said.
“On the contrary,” Madison said. “We’re going after it.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Professor Coffin said. “Let the past come after you. Let it haunt you. You never chase the future.”
“We can’t go back,” I said.
“Coffin Island is probably a grave by now,” Madison said.
“A watery one,” Professor Coffin said. “I would venture.”
“It’s been filled in with ocean?” I asked.
“You can’t expect a magical hole in the ocean to be filled in with cement?” Professor Coffin said. “A cheery little gravestone erected on a wave.”
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