Creature Keepers and the Perilous Pyro-Paws

by Peter Nelson

  “Will you please stop saying that?” The Owl Man looked at the others. “Why does he keep saying that?”

  17

  “Jordan, listen to me. These creatures, they were never kidnapped. And they’re certainly not Face Chompers.”

  Abbie glanced down at the blazing-blue embroidery spelling out the words “Face Chompers” across her chest. “Okay. They do call themselves that. But there’s actually a pretty funny story behind it.”

  “Don’t you see what they’ve done to you?” Jordan said. “You’re brainwashed! They’ve made you into one of them! You’re even letting Quisling sew you one of their uniforms! Quisling! You said you wanted to bust his melon-shaped head open!”

  Harvey looked up from his work. “Is this true?”

  “I’m still quite angry with you,” she said. “I’m trying to take the high road.”

  “The high road?” Jordan was near shrieking now. “See? Brainwashed!”

  Donald, the large red Ban Manush, puffed out his chest. “If there’s a brain that could use a good washing, it might be yours, little man.”

  Sandy the Golden Liger stepped up. “We are not enemies, Jordan. In fact, we owe you a debt of gratitude. That day we four left the Creature Keepers, it was you who gave Bernard permission to come and check on us against Eldon’s wishes.”

  Gavin the Cornwall Owl Man stepped forward. “You allowed Bernard to come find us, and Bernard helped all of us find one another.”

  Jordan scanned the room. The other cryptids nodded and smiled, including one he recognized hiding in the back of the group.

  “Lou,” Jordan said. “What’s going on here?”

  The New Jersey Devil was short and stocky and had a habit of trying to act tougher than he was. But he couldn’t hide his emotions now. “Jordan, you know how much I love Mikey. He wasn’t just my Keeper; he’s my bestest bro in the whole world. But I got tired of being kept. I never could’ve told him that, and I never would have left him, if not for Bernard’s help and the promise he made me.”

  “What’s that?” Jordan said.

  “The same promise he’s made to all of us.” A clacking near Jordan’s feet accompanied the lispy voice. “That our Keepers would be taken care of.” Clarissa, a Colossus Crab, continued. “And taken somewhere safe. And he kept his word.”

  “They only want to live free, out in the open,” Abbie said. “When the four rogue cryptids went off on their own, I wasn’t sure it was right. But I’ve listened to their stories. All these creatures stayed loyal to their Keepers only because they couldn’t bear hurting them. And that’s not really right, either.”

  Jordan scanned the very different faces staring back at him. The only face that was missing was Bernard’s. “I understand you all want to be free. But Abbie and I were given the responsibility of keeping you protected. It was the life’s work of our Grampa Grimsley. We can’t let his work die.”

  “We know this isn’t easy for you to accept,” Sandy said. “But it isn’t your choice. It’s ours.”

  Abbie stood up and straightened her pink nightie. “And mine,” she said. “And I believe that if Grampa Grimsley were here, it’d be his choice, too.”

  “Trust me, no it wouldn’t.” Bernard stepped into the room from outside. “George Grimsley would not have understood this, and he definitely wouldn’t have approved. He was my first Keeper, y’know. He was also the most stubborn human I’d ever come across—that is, until I met my second Keeper, Eldon Pecone.”

  “Did you find Eldon?” Francine the Bog Bunyip interrupted. “Where is he?”

  Bernard shook his head. “I looked everywhere. He’s not on the platform.”

  “I saw him,” Jordan said. “He’s gonna be okay. He just needs time to himself. I know that because—well, he sped off in a stolen speedboat. All by himself.”

  The creatures gasped.

  “First-Class By-the-Book Badger Boy Eldon swiped a boat?” Gilligan said. “Ooh, he’s gonna lose a badge for that!”

  Jordan held up Eldon’s sash. “I don’t think he’s too concerned about badges right now.” Another collective gasp came from the Face Chompers.

  Bernard took the sash and stared at it. “I never meant for him to find out this way,” he said. “That’s why I specifically sent for you two. I needed you to see what we were doing here so you might help me make him understand.”

  “I’m still not sure I even understand,” Jordan said.

  Bernard looked at him. “The main thing I need you to know is I didn’t do this to destroy the Creature Keepers. None of us did. As stubborn as your grandfather was, I loved him. And I loved what he created. Without the Creature Keepers, not one cryptid in this room would have had the courage even to consider making the choice to be free. And that includes me.”

  There was something new in the faces staring back at Jordan. It was pride.

  “The Creature Keepers don’t have to die,” Bernard continued. “There will be many who choose to stay with their Keepers. But for those of us who have chosen to leave, all we can do is hope someday our Keepers will understand.”

  Bernard reached up and draped Eldon’s sash over the Face Chompers banner. They all gazed at the pink flag adorned with Eldon’s Badger Badge sash.

  A silent, solemn moment passed. And Jordan started to understand. Sort of.

  “Um, sorry. But I gotta ask—what’s the deal with that name? And what’s with leaving all your Keepers those pink pajamas—or nighties or whatever they are?”

  “Slips,” Abbie said. “Doris was right. They’re slips.”

  “Pink slips,” Bernard said, somewhat sheepishly. “I thought that was a human thing—when someone gets let go or fired, they get a pink slip. I looked it up.”

  “He meant to give them pink slips,” Abbie said, smiling. “But he got confused. He gave them pink slips. Get it?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Bernard shrugged. “It seemed like a nice, friendly touch. I sure didn’t mean to cause all this confusion.”

  “Forget confusion,” Jordan said. “How about raw terror? I mean, why would you stitch the words ‘Face Chompers’ on there?”

  “That’s the name of our group.” Bernard scratched his head. “It does sound a bit menacing when you read it a certain way. I see that now.”

  “A certain way? How else would anyone read it?”

  Abbie was grinning now. “That part’s kind of a funny story.” She gestured to an old chalkboard against the wall. The words “Face Chompers” were written vertically down the side of the board. There was more writing, but it was obscured by the dragonlike Dingonek standing in front of it.

  “’Scuse us, Paul,” Bernard said. “Could you scooch a bit?”

  “Oh, sure. Sorry.” The Dingonek politely stepped aside, revealing the rest of the blackboard.

  Jordan’s mouth fell open. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Abbie began to chuckle. Bernard smiled a little. “I gotta say, I’m a bit surprised I didn’t read it that way. I’m usually such a stickler with details.”

  A giggle sounded out from behind Jordan’s hands. He looked up at Bernard and he broke out laughing. Then he stepped up and gave his furry friend a big hug.

  “I’m sorry, Bernard. I shouldn’t have doubted you. Or your great big, stinky heart.”

  Bernard squeezed him back. Despite the Skunk Ape’s pungent odor, Jordan found Bernard’s hugs to be among his favorite things in the whole world. But this one was quickly spoiled as Jordan felt a flabby, wrinkly arm join in.

  “Mm . . . yes. This is nice,” Harvey Quisling said.

  Jordan pulled away. “Hold on. You forgot to explain what you’re doing hanging out with this slimeball!”

  “Whoa, hey.” The complaint came from a large blob oozing its way across the floor. “There are some who might find that term offensive. Words can hurt, guys.”

  “Sorry, Hogie,” Bernard said. “Jordan didn’t mean you.”

  “He meant me,” Quisl
ing said. “And I must say, I don’t appreciate it, either.”

  “Tough toenails, dirtbag,” Abbie said. “You’ve kinda earned it.”

  “Harvey had a change of heart,” Bernard explained. “And we Face Chompers know the courage that can take.”

  The Face Chompers nodded in agreement. Harvey smiled at them appreciatively. “True, true,” the bald old man said. “After I messed things up in China, I was sure Chupacabra would find me and put an end to my life, once and for all. So I fled, and kept running, quite unaware that you’d captured him.”

  “He didn’t get far,” Bernard said. “I picked him up on my way to transporting the frozen Chupacabra up to the Himalayas. I figured we might want to keep his sidekick captive up there, as well.”

  “When I saw my old master under ice like that, a burden was lifted from me. I explained this to Bernard and begged him for a second chance. He could’ve turned me in to the Creature Keepers. I know I deserved it. After all, I must admit I had been behaving like a bit of a—”

  “Slimeball,” Abbie said.

  “C’mon!” Hogie the Tasmanian Globster chimed in again. “We just talked about this.”

  “I decided to give Harvey his second chance,” Bernard said. “I suppose I recognized someone who was looking for a fresh start, just like me.”

  “And us,” Sandy said. She, Paul, Donald, and Francine stood close together. “We suspected there were others. Bernard helped us reach out to them. And when they were ready, he helped pick them up and bring them here.”

  “Why here?” Abbie asked.

  “I suggested this place,” Quisling said. “My old master sent me here many times, so I knew it would be a safe place for my new friends to gather.”

  Jordan’s eyes lit up. “What did Chupacabra send you here for?”

  The old man grinned. “The crater that was forged in this place millions of years ago holds a very valuable secret.”

  “The fourth special cryptid,” Abbie said.

  “Or perhaps its elemental power,” Harvey said. “I don’t really know—you all stopped my master from getting his claws on it. Whatever it is, it’s something he wanted more than anything in the world. It was my hope that by giving this secret to my new friends, they would see that they could truly trust me.”

  “And now we’re giving the same secret to you two,” Sandy said. “In hopes that you will see we have no desire for power or weapons. We just want to live in peace, on our own.”

  “The world just might need the Creature Keepers now more than ever,” Bernard said. “In ways your grandfather could never have imagined.”

  18

  Abbie and Jordan sat at the edge of the oil rig platform, putting on their scuba gear, trying not to think about the dark water below.

  “Holy abalone! Can you two get a move-on, please? I have barnacles growing on my butt that move faster than you two!” Gilligan the Feejee Mermonkey struck Jordan and Abbie as a bit of a rude and unserious cryptid—certainly not the type of creature they felt comfortable following back down into the depths of the gulf.

  Jordan ignored him and gathered up Eldon’s scuba gear. He walked over to the far corner of the platform, where Bernard stood staring off at the horizon.

  “Don’t worry,” Jordan said. “Eldon knows you better than anyone. By the time he reaches the Okeeyuckachokee Swamp, he’ll have come to his senses.” He handed the gear to the Skunk Ape. “And if you think we’re going down there alone with that salty sea-chimp, you’re nuts.”

  “I’m not very fond of water,” Bernard said.

  “Neither am I. That’s why we’re doing this together.” Jordan smiled at his friend, then turned and walked back toward Abbie and Gilligan.

  Francine and Gavin had joined them on the platform. “Kinda rots you two had such a bad tumble through those sea tunnels,” Francine said. “A few of us got a bit banged up going through there ourselves.”

  “You guys went into the cenotes?” Jordan said.

  “Part of our ‘training,’” Gilligan said, lowering his voice as he glanced off at Bernard. “He insists we need to work on our ‘people skills.’ You believe that? Fat load of walrus droppings, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah,” Abbie said. “I see your manners are above reproach.”

  Gavin the Owl Man chuckled at this. “We’d swim through the tunnels in small teams to spy on the locals at their watering holes,” he said. “Taking every precaution to remain completely unseen, of course.”

  “Yeah, well, you may have been spotted once or twice,” Jordan said.

  “A bunch of local kids caught separate glimpses of you guys,” Abbie added. “Thought you were one big monster mash-up. Clashing styles. Not a good look.”

  Gilligan gestured behind them. “Speaking of which . . .”

  Bernard came flopping up, his black-furred feet stuffed in Eldon’s flippers, the mask and tank crammed onto his face and back. “Where’s Moe?” he said.

  Gilligan gestured toward the dark water below. “That overgrown chew toy’s down there somewhere, waiting for us.”

  “Moe?” Abbie said.

  “South African Trunko,” Gavin said. “Sweet fellow. Keeps to himself.”

  “Yeah, but not amphibious like me,” Gilligan was quick to add. “And not nearly as handsome. Wrap a hippo in a white shag rug and toss it in a salty bath for a few millennia and boom—you’ve got Moe.”

  “Ugh. Shut up already, you soggy ape.” Francine kicked her trunklike leg and shoved Gilligan. The Mermonkey bounced once in the clear webbing just below the platform, then stuck his tongue out as he double-backflipped, diving perfectly into the water.

  “I guess we should get down there, too,” Abbie said.

  “Yeah,” Jordan said. “Let’s see what you guys found.”

  They lowered themselves to the hammocklike netting, climbed to the edge, and dropped into the water. When they resurfaced, there was no sign of Bernard. They switched on their head lamps and shined them upward. He was dangling from the net.

  “C’mon, stinky!” Gilligan said, floating on his back nearby. “I know bathing isn’t your thing, but get in here!”

  “Hey, ease off.” Jordan knew why his friend wasn’t a fan of water, and it had little to do with hygiene. “He just needs a little coaxing, that’s all.”

  “So let’s coax him. Keep your eardrums above water unless you want ’em blown out.” Gilligan ducked his head beneath the surface. A muffled, piercing screech echoed. Jordan and Abbie could feel the vibrations rippling around them.

  Gilligan popped his head back up. “Get ready, kids. It’s Moe time.”

  A surge of water churned beneath the netting, followed by a large white, furry creature. Moe the South African Trunko was aptly named. About the size of a baby elephant, he had a fat, whalelike body, and protruding from his flat head was a long, white trunk. The appendage, like the rest of him, was covered in shaggy white fur. Below the surface, his tail flared out like that of a lobster. He thrust it back and forth, steadily raising his body upward, stretching his trunk toward Bernard.

  Bernard smiled as he clung to the webbing. “Hello, Moe. How’s the water?”

  Moe let out a little honk from his trunk, then wrapped it gently around Bernard. He slowed his treading tail, steadily lowering the Skunk Ape before carefully releasing him into the gulf.

  Bernard smiled. “Thanks for the hand,” he said. “Or rather, the nose.”

  Moe honked again, then dived along with Gilligan. The other three secured their masks, checked their air tanks and regulators, then followed them all the way to the bottom of the gulf floor, where the drill bit was twisted at the entrance to the large hole it had begun digging long ago.

  Gilligan pointed into the dark chasm and gave a webbed thumbs-up. Abbie, Jordan, and Bernard returned the gesture. Trunko swam in circles, staying on watch just above the gulf floor. Gilligan led the others down the abandoned well hole.

  The water immediately felt warmer. All along the rock wa
ll, the sparkly red stones glistened like rubies. Jordan pried one loose with Eldon’s knife. He pocketed it, then swam down to join Abbie, Bernard, and Gilligan at the bottom of the hole.

  At the very center of the shallow hole was a smooth, black surface. Abbie touched it but immediately withdrew her hand. Jordan read her expression and did the same. The strange object was hot—not enough to burn but enough that Jordan couldn’t hold his hand against it for more than a few seconds.

  Jordan scraped the smooth black surface with his knife. The blade left no mark. He placed the tip against it and picked up a nearby rock, slamming it down on the butt of the knife. The blade splintered, breaking against the strange stone.

  They looked to Bernard and Gilligan for any answers. The Mermonkey shrugged. Bernard pointed to his wrist, then pointed toward the surface.

  19

  Jordan and Abbie stripped off their scuba gear, stepped inside the little cottage, and came across the weirdest-looking tea party they’d ever seen.

  Harvey Quisling, Donald, Lou, and Hogie sat in a circle. Each followed the old man’s lead, picking up a small cup and lifting it to their mouths. Hogie went last, and as he tried to take a careful little sip, his cup stuck to his gooey lip, sank into his gelatinous face, and slid down the inside of his neck.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” the Tasmanian Globster said. “I ingest things through osmosis. I’ll work on it.”

  “Please do,” Quisling said. “That’ll never do in the human world. It’s disgusting.”

  As Bernard entered, Jordan and Abbie broke up the party, taking Quisling aside. “What is that thing down there?” Jordan asked. “Why is it hot?”

  “I was hoping the descendants of the great George Grimsley might be able to tell me,” Quisling said. “I always assumed it has something to do with the fourth special, but my ex-master never fully explained it to me.”