by Peter Nelson
“Doris, what are these Face Chompers?” Jordan asked.
“Eldon will explain. Now, you’d better hurry along. He’s anxious to see you. Just don’t bring up the rogue four. He’s still a little miffed about those cryptids who went off on their own.”
3
Jordan and Abbie trudged deep into the dense swamplands until they reached the edge of Ponce de Leon Bay. Hidden along the shoreline, beneath the tangled cypress tree branches and coastal swamp grass, the Creature Keepers’ boathouse and dock served as a garage and launching point for various odd modes of transportation. In Jordan’s short time with the operation, he’d ridden—and even piloted—a seaplane, hot air balloon, submarine, swamp boat, and a rocket thruster–powered military-grade aircraft called a Heli-Jet.
None of these crafts seemed to be there. The boathouse and dock looked empty and abandoned except for a sad, drab-looking little canvas pup tent set up by a tree. Abbie and Jordan knew whose tent that was, but in case they had any doubts, the Badger Ranger flag waving atop it was a dead giveaway.
“Camp Dorkface,” Abbie said under her breath.
Aside from being a dorkface in Abbie’s eyes, Eldon Pecone was also the former leader of the Creature Keepers and a First-Class Badger Ranger, not necessarily in that order. He was very much a fan of rules, loyalty, rules, discipline, rules, and a few more rules. Despite this, and much to Jordan’s surprise, he was also Jordan’s best friend. Eldon had introduced Jordan to his grandfather’s secret world, and in a way, it was Eldon’s world, too. Jordan would never forget the look on Eldon’s face when the four rogue cryptids quit the Creature Keepers and made their way into the world. Jordan was surprised Eldon didn’t insist they stay, or attempt to go after them. Like the stone in Jordan’s bag, Eldon’s light began to fade after that day. Soon after, he passed along the leadership of the Creature Keepers to Jordan and Abbie—as well as a special ring that had belonged to their grandfather. Jordan still didn’t feel like either was quite the right fit.
He crouched down at the entrance to the tent. “Eldon? Are you in there?”
“Shh!” A sound from above came from a lanky boy in a Badger Ranger uniform clinging to the trunk of a tree, staring through a pair of binoculars.
Abbie hollered up at him. “Yo, dorkface! What are you doing?”
Eldon slid down the tree. He was clean-cut, from his short cropped hair down to his spit-shined boots. His Badger Ranger uniform was complete with an official sash cluttered with Badger Badges.
“Shh!” Eldon repeated. He suddenly jerked his head as if he heard something in the nearby clump of bushes. He whipped out his binoculars and peered upward, slowly scanning the treetops. “Okay. All clear. For now, at least.”
Eldon snapped to attention, standing straight and tall before the two of them, and offered a stiff, Badger Ranger Badger claw salute. “Eldon Pecone, First-Class Master Ranger, clan seventy-four, at your service and reporting for duty. In your absence, I thought it would be prudent for me stay on top of the current situation and to keep a vigilant eye for the newest enemy in our midst.”
“What the heck are you talking about?” Jordan asked.
“Permission to speak freely.”
“Denied,” Abbie said.
“Eldon!” Jordan snapped at his friend. “Please just tell us what’s going on!”
Eldon relaxed his stiff stance but kept a worried look on his face. “I’m afraid what we’re looking at here is an organized, wide-scale abduction of cryptids.”
“By who?” Abbie said.
“Not who, what.”
“These Face Chewers?” Jordan asked.
“The Face Chompers,” Eldon said somberly. “A mysterious and powerful force with the ability to locate our cryptids anywhere in the world and snatch them from the care of our very best Creature Keepers.”
“I don’t believe it,” Abbie said. “How could anyone—or anything—do that?”
“Eldon, how do you know all of this?” Jordan said. “How can you be sure?”
Eldon stepped to the doorway of the boathouse and reached for the handle. “Their Keepers are on the other side of this door. They all tell the same chilling story. Whatever these Face Chompers are, we’ve never dealt with anything like this before.”
“Open the door,” Jordan said. “We need to talk to them.”
“All right. But I feel I must warn you. What you’re about to see . . . isn’t pretty.”
He swung open the door. Inside, about a half dozen elderly people looked up. Some rested on cots; others stood chatting. But each and every single one of them, old men and old ladies alike, wore the exact same thing: a bright pink woman’s nightie.
“It’s kind of pretty,” Abbie said. “And I usually hate pink.”
4
Jordan, Abbie, and Eldon sat with the oddly dressed Keepers, listening as they introduced themselves, then recalled fondly the creature they’d lost.
“Justine,” said an old woman with beautiful Asian features. “I keep—er, kept, I guess—Clarissa, the Christmas Island Colossus Crab.” She bowed her head and sobbed quietly.
An elderly dark-skinned man put his arm around the woman. “I’m Thomas,” he said softly. “I was responsible for Gilligan, the Feejee Mermonkey.”
“Alice,” another woman said in an Australian accent. “The Tasmanian Globster wasn’t just my creature. Hogie was my mate.”
The next person—a tall, lanky old man—was trying to hold it together. He kept taking short breaths and holding up a finger, politely and silently requesting a moment. He finally went to speak but shook his head and buried his face in the bulky shoulder of the short, stocky bald man sitting beside him.
“He’s Christopher,” the puffy, shorter Keeper said in a thick New York accent. “He misses his bird-bro, Gavin, the Cornwall Owl Man.”
Jordan looked closer at this last stocky, bald man. Something about him seemed familiar. “What about you?” Jordan said. “Who’s your creature?”
The puffy old man’s lip trembled. “My creature is—He’s my bestest bro in the whole world! He burst into tears, then blew his nose loudly on Christopher’s pink nightie. Jordan realized who he was.
“Mike! Is that you?”
“You guys gotta find Lou! He’s out there somewheres, and he needs me!”
Mike was the Creature Keeper to Lou, otherwise known as the New Jersey Devil. When Jordan and Abbie had first met the two of them, they came off like tough-talking meatheads. But deep down, they were a pair of big old softies.
“Okay, big fella,” Abbie said. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” She scanned the sad faces of the rest of the Keepers. “We’re gonna find all of them. We promise.”
Jordan suddenly understood what Eldon meant when he said this wasn’t pretty. “She’s right, of course,” he said. “And any information you can remember about the nights your cryptids went missing would be extremely helpful.”
For the next hour or so, Jordan, Abbie, and Eldon listened to almost the exact same story from each of the distraught Keepers.
“Worst night of my life, you guys,” Mike shared. “I woke to a blinding light in the sky. I ran out and felt a hot, swirling wind all around me. I looked up and”—he sniffed loudly—“I saw Lou’s little hooves rising away from me. The light cut out, and all went silent. Then this floated down and landed on my head.” He stood up and gestured to what he was wearing, turning around slowly. Embroidered across the silk, pink back in neon-blue stitching, it read: Face Chompers.
“Lou’s tracking collar was cut off, lying on the ground. That’s all any of us have left—just their collars, and these lady dresses.”
“Actually, I think they’re nighties,” Abbie said.
“They’re slips, dearie.” Doris stood just inside the boathouse. She lifted her dress to reveal the white, silk material beneath it—along with a little too much of her wrinkly legs. “I wear ’em all the time. See?”
“We all wear them now,” the lanky Chr
istopher said in a British accent. He wiped his eyes and stood to join Lou. “In solidarity for our lost creatures. And we will continue to wear them until our cryptids are safely returned to us!”
The others excitedly stood up and joined in a pink-clad, group high five. Almost immediately, they reacted in pain and sat back down.
“What’s wrong with them?” Jordan whispered to Eldon.
“They’re still aging,” Eldon said. “Since the Fountain of Youth elixir has been destroyed, they’ve been going through uncomfortable regrowing pains.”
Jordan felt the guilt flush his face, just like before. It was because of him all the Creature Keepers around the world had been so suddenly cut off from the magical waters that kept them young and vibrant.
“I’m sorry,” he said to them. “This is all my fault.”
“Yes it is, dearie,” Doris said. “But don’t kick yourself in the fanny too hard. You also came through with something that will help ease their pain.” She turned toward the doorway and hollered. “HAP! GET IN HERE WITH THAT STUFF!”
Hap entered, followed by four new elderly people, all dressed normally. Hap set down the box of tiny bottles. The five of them, plus Doris, opened a few and began administering the bottles of elixir to the elderly Creature Keepers.
“Welcome to old age,” Hap said as he served them. “You guys ain’t getting any younger—literally. But this’ll slow the process a bit and help take the edge off.”
“That’s right,” Doris said. “And you have Jordan to thank for it! Now, just a sip, Keepers! You need to make it last—we don’t know how many more of you Bernard will be rescuing. Rest up. Your rooms should be ready in the next couple of days.”
The Keepers sipped their elixir. Almost immediately, they began feeling better, which made Jordan feel better, too.
“Eldon,” Abbie said. “Who are those four old fogies helping Doris and Hap? They don’t look very happy, either.”
“They’re not. In some ways, they’re more troubled than the other Keepers.”
“They’re Keepers, too?” Jordan asked.
“Those are the Keepers of Paul, Francine, Donald, and Sandy, the four cryptids who”—Eldon seemed to have trouble with the next part—“willfully abandoned us.”
Once again, Jordan felt a guilty flush in his face. This time, however, it was due to a secret he held. Something he’d done willfully, too, and to his best friend. He’d betrayed Eldon.
“They were the first Bernard brought in,” Eldon said. “On his way back from dropping Chupacabra at the Yeti’s mountain home in the Himalayas. Poor Bernard had to break the news that their creatures no longer needed them. I’m sure they’re beginning to come to the same conclusion that the rest of us are—that they’ve been abducted by the Face Chompers.”
“That would explain why the four rogue cryptids haven’t shown up anywhere yet, right?” Abbie said. Jordan didn’t answer. He was staring at the four Keepers. So she punched him in the arm. “Hey!”
“Excuse me a second,” Jordan said. “I need to talk to those Keepers.”
The four Keepers were busy tending to the others, fluffing pillows and refilling water glasses. As he approached them, Jordan could tell they were going through regrowing pains, too. But they hadn’t taken any of the elixir and hadn’t asked for any.
“Here.” Jordan pulled out a bottle and handed it to them. “This will help.”
The elderly woman glanced at the others, then pushed away his offering. “That’s not for us,” she said. “It’s for them.”
A frail-looking old man read the confusion in Jordan’s face. “We don’t deserve that. Our creatures weren’t taken. They left us.”
Jordan glanced back at Eldon and Abbie, who were talking with Doris. Then he continued in a lower voice. “I was there when Paul, Donald, Francine, and Sandy left. They didn’t mean to hurt you. They just wanted to live free. I saw how hard it was for them to leave.”
“That may be,” a third Keeper said, “but the fact is, we failed them. We couldn’t keep them hidden.”
“Or happy,” said the fourth, a disheveled old man. “Now we can only hope that wherever they are, they’re healthy.”
It was clear they hadn’t considered Eldon’s theory that the four rogue cryptids had been abducted by the Face Chompers. Maybe they didn’t want to. Either way, Jordan had to reveal his secret. At least to them. “Listen to me,” he said. “On that day, I did something I shouldn’t have done. I disobeyed a direct order and gave Bernard permission to fly off and find your creatures.” The four were surprised at this, and Jordan continued. “So I have to ask: when Bernard came to bring you here, did he mention anything to any of you? Was he able to find them?”
“He only told us the terrible news,” the frail man said. “That our creatures had chosen to leave us, to live on their own in the world. Then he offered to bring us here, where we could be close by in case there was any news of their whereabouts. He went back out to try to find them, but that’s when the distress calls started coming in from all over the world. He’s been bringing in these poor Keepers, one at a time, ever since.”
“Well, I’m going to make you a promise,” Jordan said. “We’re going to find your cryptids, and all of theirs. And we’re going to bring them back to you safely. You have my word, as the new co-leader of the Creature Keepers.” For the first time, a smile crept over their faces. “But in return, I need to ask you all to do something.” He held out the bottle of elixir again. “Take care of yourselves. Believe me, it’s what Paul, Donald, Francine, and Sandy would want.”
The four Keepers smiled a little more. Then they passed the elixir around.
5
Jordan and Eldon followed Doris and Abbie out of the boathouse and through the swamp, back toward the retirement home. All four of them now kept an eye toward the darkening sky, searching for Face Chompers.
“I can’t believe it,” Eldon said to Jordan. “But I’ve gotta hand it to you again.”
“Hey, it was nothing,” Jordan said. “When Doris mentioned the Keepers were aging, I remembered Hap’s stash. You would’ve done the same thing.”
“No. I mean I can’t believe it. I have to hand this to you, again.”
Eldon held out his hand. In his open palm was a sparkling ring. It was thick and crystal clear, filled with a highly concentrated form of the same elixir that was in the tiny bottles, only far more potent.
“My grandfather’s ring! Eldon, where did you find it?”
“In Japan.” Eldon smiled. “I think someone may have dropped it.”
Someone did. Jordan had dropped it into the bowl-shaped head of a Kappa, a cryptid who had turned to stone, then come back to life. “I’m sorry I lost it. But Eldon, I think it may have brought Morris back.”
Eldon thought about this. “When your grandfather first gave the ring to me, he told me how the Fountain of Youth elixir flowing inside gave it its power. But he also said its power could be multiplied when given to someone who had made a true sacrifice. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time. But I think I’m starting to.”
“Morris sacrificed himself for Abbie before I gave him the ring. Maybe that’s what saved him.”
Eldon smiled and dropped the ring in Jordan’s hand. “If that’s all true, I can’t say I’m unhappy with how things turned out. But this is the third time I’ve given you this darned thing. Please try to hold on to it.”
Jordan slipped the ring on his finger. “I will. Thanks.”
“You and Abbie are great leaders, and you’re going to get the Creature Keepers through this crisis. You deserve to wear your grandfather’s ring. I just hope if a day comes when you need its full power, you won’t have to sacrifice too much.”
The remains of the high brick wall that Peggy the Jackalope had knocked down earlier had been restacked to form a short, rectangular foundation just inside the swamp. The two boys joined Doris and Abbie standing in the center of it, on a smooth, metal floor.
“Well?” Doris said. “Whaddy’all think of my new greenhouse? Now that the foundation and floor are in, all it needs are the glass walls and retractable roof.”
“I never knew you had a green thumb,” Jordan said.
“With all the construction going on here, no one would mind if I had this built, too. Besides, since Peggy’s started living with us full-time, we’ve been going through a lot of carrots.”
“Wow,” Jordan said. “I nearly forgot the tough road she’s had. I mean, she was neglected, then just plain left to die—by her own Keeper.”
“Ex-Keeper,” Eldon said. “Our original traitor. And public enemy number one.”
“I’ll never forget what that worm did to Morris,” Abbie said.
Harvey Quisling was a horrid little old man who had betrayed the Creature Keepers and worked to help Chupacabra. A former Keeper himself, Harvey was guilty of one of the worst sins a Creature Keeper could commit: he’d abandoned his cryptid, Peggy. Harvey had proven himself to be a sneaky, dishonest, dangerous person, but an expert at sewing, knitting, and stitching—skills he oddly managed to use for evil.
“I swear,” Abbie continued. “If I ever meet Harvey again, I’m gonna bust him up so badly, the only stitching he’ll be doing will be to his own melon-shaped head.”
“Stitching . . .” A thought struck Jordan. “What if Harvey Quisling is involved in this somehow? I mean, who else would leave as a calling card those weird, pink pajamas—”
“Nighties,” Abbie said.
“Slips,” Doris added.
“Whatever! Think about it—Harvey Quisling has stitched furniture out of jackalope fur, tailored a coat out of Nessie’s scales, and sewn together a life-sized puppet out of a pillowcase and old clothes! Embroidering ‘Face Chompers’ on the backs of those dresses—”
“Nighties.”
“Slips.”
“Whatever! It would be child’s play for him. He’s gotta be involved. It can’t be a coincidence! You watch, any day now, we’ll get a crocheted ransom note.”