The Splendid Baron Submarine

by Eric Bower

  “We have been looking for it for ages,” Veezlefayce told us as he stood beside James Reavis. “We sailed to the island and searched the surrounding waters, but we found nothing. We did everything we could to find the treasure. We even tried to train monkeys to dive into the ocean to search for us, but the monkeys hated the water and ended up turning evil. Well, actually, they turned more evil. Monkeys are pretty evil to begin with. Lousy, evil monkeys.”

  “Do those evil monkeys now live on the island?” I asked, giving a long look towards my mother, who had repeatedly told me that there were no monkeys there.

  “I suppose. We abandoned them when they disobeyed us,” Veezlefayce said as he reached into the desk and pulled out a pistol.

  “I told you I wasn’t lying,” I said to M.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you,” my mother told me. “But now is not the time for saying I-told-you-so, W.B.”

  “Sorry, M.”

  “We tried to hire some professional treasure hunters to help us,” Veezlefayce said, as James Reavis pulled out a pistol and pointed it at us as well. “But they all refused. They were afraid of the curse of Captain Affect, which is absolutely ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous,” said one of the ghosts with a smirk.

  “Preposterous,” said a second ghost.

  “Ludicrous,” said the third.

  “Ambidextrous,” I added.

  Alright, I didn’t know what that word meant either. But once again, I wanted to add a single word just like everyone else.

  “Huh? You’re ambidextrous?” James Reavis asked as he frowned at me, before shrugging off my comment. “After my partner and I read about your family’s brilliant inventions, we knew that you would be the perfect people to help us find the treasure.”

  “But we knew that you might need a bit of convincing,” Veezlefayce added. “We couldn’t let you know that we were criminals. We had to pretend to be trustworthy and important people, so James pretended to be Vice President Levi Morton.”

  “I made my own Vice President costume,” James Reavis chimed.

  “It was very nice,” my father said approvingly.

  “We disguised our secret hideout to look like a respectable office that might be used by the Vice President. Our plan was simple. We would convince you that your country needed your help, and that you would be rewarded with a beautiful diamond if you found the treasure. But when you came back from the island, we would just steal the treasure from you and give you nothing. This, as you can see, is precisely what we did.”

  “That’s evil,” my mother whispered.

  James Reavis and Veezlefayce turned to each other and grinned.

  “Yes,” James said, “it was pretty evil. Well done, Veezlefayce.”

  “Thank you. You did a good job too, James. This has been one of our better crimes.”

  They shook hands. They were pretty proud of themselves. I suppose they had a good reason to be proud. It was a great plan. I wished that I had a great plan, or any sort of plan. I would have even settled for a slightly rotten one.

  “What are you planning on doing with us?” I asked.

  The two evil men stopped shaking hands as they considered my question.

  “Hmmm, good question. What should we do with the Barons?” Veezlefayce asked.

  “Well, clearly we can’t let them leave here,” James Reavis said. “That means they’ll need to be taken care of. Let’s leave it up to Knuckles and Mongo. They’re very good at taking care of things. Knuckles and Mongo, how do you think you should take care of the Barons?”

  Knuckles and Mongo looked like a pair of dogs who’d just heard someone set down their supper dishes. They weren’t particularly great at “discussing things” or “listening to others” or “sitting in their chairs without drooling,” but they were wonderful at taking care of things. Especially if taking care of things meant they were allowed to use their giant fists to beat us senseless.

  “We could pummel their bodies until they look like pudding,” Knuckles suggested as he cracked his knuckles.

  “Or maybe bash their faces into jam,” Mongo replied.

  “I’ve already had jam today,” Knuckles argued. “I’m in the mood for pudding.”

  “I don’t like pudding,” Mongo dismissed. “It’s too creamy.”

  “You could compromise by crushing our bones into jelly,” I told them.

  “Or beating our faces into a custard,” added P.

  “Or mashing our toes into potatoes,” M said.

  “Or whipping our brains into cream,” said Rose.

  “No,” I told her. “Mongo doesn’t like things that are too creamy.”

  “He’s right,” said Mongo. “And thank you for listening.”

  Knuckles and Mongo sat on the sofa and continued to discuss their options. They took their beatings very seriously, especially the way they described them.

  “Well, I don’t care what Mongo and Knuckles do to you, or how they describe it,” James Reavis said as he grabbed one handle of the treasure chest. “They can fry your kneecaps into pork chops for all I care, as long as you’re unable to ever tell anyone about the treasure. I’m getting out of here. So long, suckers!”

  Veezlefayce grabbed the handle on the other end of the treasure chest.

  “That’s right!” Veezlefayce cackled wildly. “So long, suckers!”

  The two villains each took a step in the opposite direction, trying to pull the treasure chest along with them. They looked at each other and frowned.

  “What are you doing?” Veezlefayce asked James.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” James said to Veezlefayce.

  “I’m taking the treasure back to my home country, where I can live like a king,” Veezlefayce told him.

  “No, you’re not. Because I’m taking the treasure to Cleveland, where I can live like a king,” James responded.

  “Ah, Cleveland,” one of the ghosts said with a sigh. “Maybe one day we’ll get there . . .”

  “Can’t you guys help me?” I whispered to the ghosts. “I know you’re cursed, and you need to keep double haunting me, but if you ever want to be free, you’re going to need to get me out of here so I can return the treasure and break the curse.”

  The three ghosts thought about that for a moment. They gathered together in a little ghost circle and had a little ghost discussion about what they should do. As the ghosts discussed whether or not they would help me, Veezlefayce and James continued to pull on opposite ends of the treasure chest, growing more and more annoyed with one another.

  “I’m in charge here,” James Reavis argued. “I’m the Vice President!”

  “You only got to pose as the Vice President because you have that silly American accent!” Veezlefayce shot back.

  “It’s not silly! What’s silly is your name, Weasel Face!”

  “It’s Veezlefayce!!” Veezlefayce screamed so loudly that his face turned bright zorple. “Veezlefayce! Why is that so hard for you all to understand???”

  Finally, the ghost circle broke up, and the three of them floated over to me. I looked up at them expectantly.

  “Well?” I whispered.

  “W.B., who do you keep whispering to?” P whispered to me. “I really worry about you sometimes.”

  “I’m whispering to your old imaginary dog, Fred-Head. And you should know that he’s very angry with you.”

  My father turned whiter than the ghosts who were floating beside me. A lump formed in his throat.

  “Fred-Head is angry?” he asked nervously. “What did he say? Why is he angry with me? What did I do?”

  “He said that you know what you did,” I replied before turning back to the ghosts.

  “We’ve decided,” one of the ghosts began, “that we cannot do anything to stop them. We cannot stand in the way of de
stiny. That’s not what ghosts are supposed to do. I’m sorry.”

  “What?” I said, my brow crinkling in anger. “What do you mean?”

  “What we mean is that we cannot untie you,” another ghost continued. “And we also can’t do anything to the two villains with guns.”

  “It means kidney bean! It’s a normal name in my country! It’s as normal as Smith, or Brown, or Jackson is in this country! Veezlefayce!!!!!!”

  “We also can’t do anything to the large men who are planning on hurting you,” the third ghost said, as he gestured to Mongo and Knuckles.

  “Maybe we could chop them like a salad?” Knuckles suggested. “My wife told me that I don’t eat enough greens.”

  “I hate salad,” Mongo said with a frown. “Maybe we could squish them like grapes?”

  “So you’re useless,” I muttered to the ghosts. “Great. Thanks for nothing. Now you’ll never get to Cleveland.”

  The three ghosts smiled. I didn’t know what they had to smile about. Their lives (or deaths, or ghostings, or whatever they wanted to call their existence) were just as bad as mine, if not worse.

  “But we can tell you one thing,” said one of the ghosts.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “Tell Fred-Head I’m sorry for everything that happened,” P whispered to me. “I was young and stupid. I had no idea that a goat would get that upset if you dressed it in a petticoat. I shouldn’t have blamed Fred-Head for the fire in the barn or for what happened to the old man whose boots exploded.”

  One of the ghosts whispered to me.

  “Scoot your chair back, W.B.”

  For a moment, I sat there quietly and waited for the ghost to explain what he meant. I felt certain that one of them would take the time to tell me why and how I would be saving myself and my family simply by scooting my chair back. But the ghosts continued to silently float and smile, refusing to provide me with any more of an explanation. They probably enjoyed being so vague and mysterious. Lousy, stupid, vague, and mysterious ghosts . . .

  I sighed. Scoot my chair back. Why not? I didn’t have a plan. I might as well listen to the ghosts who were probably just a part of my wacky imagination anyway. At least then I’d be trying something instead of nothing. I’d been trying nothing for quite some time, and it didn’t appear to be helping.

  Even though my hands were tied behind my back, I was still able to scoot my chair all the way back until I had reached the eastern wall of the office. My parents and Rose Blackwood watched me quizzically as I scooted, and after a moment, they all scooted back as well.

  “What are you doing?” M whispered to me.

  “Ten,” whispered one of the ghosts.

  “Just wait,” I whispered back to my mother.

  “This treasure is going to Cleveland!” James Reavis yelled at Veezlefayce. “End of argument!”

  “Wrong!” Veezlefayce yelled back. “This treasure is going to my home country, end of argument times twenty!”

  “Nine,” whispered another ghost.

  “Maybe we could knead them like dough?” Mongo asked.

  Knuckles burped into his knuckles and then rubbed his tummy.

  “I’ve been eating too much bread lately,” he said. “It’s been making me feel bloated. Maybe we can shred them like carrots?”

  “Eight,” whispered the third ghost.

  Veezlefayce and James finally dropped the treasure chest and pointed their pistols at one another.

  “I will shoot you if I have to!” James told his former partner. “I won’t even feel bad about it!”

  “Seven.”

  “I won’t feel bad about it either!” Veezlefayce sneered. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it! I’m a very dangerous man!”

  “Six,” hissed two of the ghosts at the same time.

  I began to hear a deep rumbling sound. At first I thought it was coming from my stomach. I was quite hungry. I noticed James Reavis’s candy dish on his desk. It looked like he had jelly beans. I love jelly beans.

  “Five.”

  The rumbling sound grew louder, and soon I could actually feel the rumbling under my feet. The pictures on the office walls began to vibrate. The lamp began to shake. The entire building was buzzing.

  Oh, that’s right. Those aren’t jelly beans.

  “Maybe we could mush them into porridge?” suggested Knuckles.

  But why must they look so tasty?

  “Four.”

  Veezlefayce and James put their fingers on the triggers of their weapons.

  “How many people have you shot?” Veezlefayce asked his former partner.

  “Five hundred,” James Reavis said through gritted teeth as he aimed his pistol. “That makes me much more dangerous than you.”

  The rumbling continued to increase, both in sound and intensity. The office walls began to crack. A beam from the ceiling split and dropped to the floor, missing Rose Blackwood by only a few inches.

  “Three.”

  “Hah!” Veezlefayce cried triumphantly. “I’ve actually shot five hundred and one people! I win! I’m more dangerous than you! The treasure is mine!”

  “How about we churn them like butter?” Mongo said to Knuckles. “You can put butter on almost anything.”

  “Two,” the three ghosts said together, before they slowly disappeared.

  “Only one of us will get out of here alive with the treasure!” James Reavis spat at Veezlefayce. “Only one!”

  “One,” I said.

  As everyone stopped arguing and turned to me, the floorboards in the center of the room suddenly ripped apart as though they were being pulled by a giant pair of invisible hands. They cracked and splintered into sawdust, as the walls that made up the lovely office began to crumble. James and Veezlefayce screamed as they dropped their guns and backed away from the treasure chest, terrified by the catastrophic earthquake which was threatening to swallow the entire building.

  Have you ever been sitting there and watching as something amazing was about to happen, knowing for certain that what you were about to see would be the most incredible thing you’ve ever witnessed? But then, when it actually happens, it’s far more amazing, ridiculous, impossible, incredible, and weird than you could have ever dreamed?

  Well, this was one of those times.

  The ground opened up and little Waldo emerged, riding on the back of a giant earthworm.

  See? I told you so.

  It was the earthworm that P had accidentally biggened back at the Baron Estate, the one that had burrowed deep into the ground before we had the chance to shrink it again. It must have found its way to an island the South Pacific, where it was befriended by a common squirrel monkey named Waldo.

  Little Waldo shrieked loudly as he rode the giant earthworm, shaking his stick in the air as the worm flopped down and crushed Mongo, Knuckles, James Reavis, and Veezlefayce, dragging the four of them into the tunnel which led to the other end of the world. The common squirrel monkey shrieked his goodbye to us as he and the giant worm followed the evil men down the tunnel where they disappeared for good, leaving me, my parents, and Rose Blackwood staring dumbly at a giant hole in the middle of the office.

  It was M who eventually broke the silence.

  “Was that what I think it was?” she asked.

  “I think so,” P answered quietly. “That was Waldo riding a giant earthworm.”

  M untied her wrists and tried to clean her glasses, which were completely covered in dust.

  “That was Waldo?” she asked. “I thought it was a hairy little cowboy.”

  It Could Have Been Squirrels

  My father and Rose Blackwood carefully walked around the giant hole in the room and picked up the treasure chest that had been left behind. We carried it outside only moments before the entire building collapsed, and was sucked into the large hole m
ade by the earthworm.

  I imagine that whoever visits that nameless island in the South Pacific will be shocked to find the crumbled remains of a criminal hideout there. As well as a giant worm, a clever monkey, and four very flattened villains.

  We found the villains’ horses hitched to a post behind their criminal hideout (or where their criminal hideout used to be), and we rode them back to the Baron Estate. Everyone was exhausted and starving from our long and difficult day, so as soon as we were home and washed up, Rose and P cooked us all a special feast. As we ate, we stared at the treasure chest which was filled with more riches than we knew what to do with.

  “I suppose it’s all ours now. What should we do with it?” Rose asked. “Should we buy a bigger home? Better tools? A new horse? Sixteen new horses? Should we put it in the bank and save it?”

  “Maybe we could all buy matching hats,” P suggested.

  “Why would we do that?” Rose asked.

  “Look, I didn’t question any of your stupid ideas,” P retorted.

  “I don’t know,” M said carefully. “It does feel rather strange having stolen treasure in the house. Perhaps we should try to find out who the treasure originally belonged to, and then return it to their families.”

  P and Rose stared at my mother as though she had suggested they take turns stuffing boiled potatoes up their nostrils. But I smiled. I looked back at the treasure and saw the three ghosts suddenly appear beside it. They were no longer dressed in scary ghost clothes or in the ridiculous bathing suits they had worn in the desert. The ghost who had been a baker was dressed as a baker. The ghost who had been a butcher was dressed as a butcher. The ghost who had been an accountant was dressed in a suit, and carried a little ghost briefcase filled with lots of boring ghost paperwork.

  “I can already feel the curse beginning to break,” the baker whispered excitedly. “We’re going to be free.”

  “That’s a great idea, M,” I said. “I’m sure that if we go to the library, we can do some research and find out who Captain Affect stole all of this treasure from. We should return it to its owners. It’s the right thing to do.”