by Mo O'Hara
“Zarky?” Pradeep gasped.
“Eel says his name is Zarky,” she said to us. “He’s sad,” she went on. “He tries to play, but people scream and say go away. Some bad people on boats hook Zarky and hurt him. Zarky not evil. He wants friends.”
Sami walked over to Frankie. “Say sorry, swishy fishy.”
Frankie looked just like I felt when Mom made me apologize to Sara Wartly for splat-bombing her. He looked up at the eel and the green in his eyes faded to a dull glow.
“Now Zarky say sorry to Frankie,” Sami said to the eel.
The eel lowered his head and looked at Frankie. His orange eyes dimmed too.
Sami’s eyes stopped glowing orange and green, and she giggled.
“I know you’re not mean, swishy fishy,” she said, picking up Frankie and planting a huge wet kiss on his face. I’ve never seen a fish look so embarrassed. It was one thing to say sorry, but totally another to get kissed in front of your one-time arch-nemesis.
Pradeep unfolded a sick bag from his pocket, filled it with water from the drain, and held it out for Frankie. He wriggled across and jumped inside.
“This is pathetic,” Mark said as he stomped past the eel. “You’re not an evil zombie eel at all. You can’t even thrash a puny little zombie fish. Next time I’m gonna make a zombie so tough…” Mark didn’t have a chance to finish his insult. The not-so-evil eel filled its mouth with green gunk from the kiddie pool and squirted it in Mark’s face.
“Argh!” Mark yelled. “Stupid eel, stupid fish, stupid vacation!”
“Eel go splat!” Sami said, and giggled. “Now get Zarky home.”
Pradeep opened the door to the balcony, and that’s when we saw the little rowboat far out in the bay. You could hardly make it out through all the fog and the rain. It looked like a tiny toy boat floating away across a giant pond. Because that’s exactly what it was doing. It was heading out to sea.
“They’re going the wrong way!” Pradeep cried.
Of course! The beacon had blown when the lightning hit the lighthouse. There was no light to guide them home.
CHAPTER 17
A LIGHT BETWEEN TWO ZOMBIES
“We’ve got to get the lighthouse beacon back on,” I said to Pradeep and Mark, “or they’ll never find their way back.”
Even Mark looked worried at the idea of the dads getting lost at sea.
We clambered up the fire escape back to the lamp room, leaving Sami with Frankie and Zarky. A huge reflective glass surrounded the giant beacon.
Pradeep tripped the switch on the wall. Nothing happened.
“Swishy fishy!” Sami shouted.
Together we managed to open the trapdoor again so we could see her at the bottom of the ladder.
Sami was holding Frankie up in his bag. There was a pale-green glow from Frankie’s eyes.
“That’s it!” I shouted. “We’ve used Frankie as a night-light before at sleepovers. Maybe his glowing eyes can lead the boat home if the glass reflects the brightness out to sea?”
Pradeep thought for a minute. “His eyes aren’t powerful enough,” he said. “We’d have to find some way to turbo-boost Frankie’s glow.”
Then at the same time we said, “Zarky!”
We left Mark in the lamp room, climbed back down the ladder, and explained to Sami, Zarky, and Frankie what we needed them to do. Then Pradeep and I lifted Zarky up the ladder and passed him up to Mark. Sami followed us with Frankie in his sick bag.
Zarky coiled himself in front of the beacon reflector and held Frankie gently between his scaly folds. Frankie’s eyes started glowing green. But Pradeep was right; the glow wasn’t strong enough. Then I had an idea.
“Mark, you’re a moron,” I said.
“What did you just say?” He looked at me and his right hand clenched into a fist.
Frankie’s zombie eyes started to glow more brightly.
“Yeah,” Pradeep joined in, catching on to what I was doing. “You’re a double moron!”
“You losers have a death wish, right?” Mark said, pounding his fist against the palm of his other hand.
Frankie’s eyes glowed brighter than ever, but it still wasn’t enough to be seen far out at sea. We had to get Zarky to give him the turbo-boost.
“Yeah, anyone who thinks they can trap an eel like Zarky is a moron and a loser,” I said.
“Let me get over there. I’m gonna destroy you!” yelled Mark.
I could see Zarky’s eyes glowing orange. His coils sparked into life around Frankie.
I took Sami’s hand and pulled her away from the giant eel’s side.
“Mean Mark, smelly Mark,” Sami laughed.
“Stupid little moron!” Mark yelled at Sami. “I’ll get you, too. Just you wait!”
That was all they needed.
Zarky’s scales sparked like little bonfire-night sparklers and suddenly Frankie’s eyes shone like two bulging bright-green lamps. The glass reflected the pulsing glow far out to sea.
CHAPTER 18
BACK TO THE DEEP, GREEN SEA
“Mark, grab those binoculars and see if you can spot the rowboat!” I yelled, trying to distract him from the thumping that was about to come my way.
Scowling and muttering something that sounded like, “I’ll get you all later,” Mark grabbed the binoculars from a hook on the wall and stomped outside.
I held my breath. Then Mark shouted, “I can see them! They’re heading back toward the lighthouse.”
Frankie and Zarky stayed lit up until the dads were only a few strokes from the jetty.
“Zarky home now?” Sami said quietly. Zarky uncoiled himself and Frankie jumped back into his sick bag of water.
That’s when we heard the rumble of the helicopter outside. Pradeep and I helped Zarky to the balcony.
“Look, it’s the coast guard!” I shouted to Pradeep above the noise of the whirring blades as the helicopter hovered over the jetty.
The dads were just tying the boat up. They waved up to the helicopter pilots, who gave them a thumbs-up sign.
“We’d better get Zarky out of here before the coast guard spots us!” Pradeep yelled.
“I don’t know how we’re going to get him down!” I shouted back.
“I don’t think we’re going to need to!” Pradeep bellowed, pointing at the water below.
Zarky gently lifted his tail to pat Sami on the head. Then he turned and nodded to Frankie, and with one powerful thrust he leaped over the balcony railing and into the sea. Sparks flashed off his scales as he hit the water.
“Sparky Zarky!” Sami said, and clapped her hands.
The helicopter flew up from the jetty and circled above the lighthouse.
A booming voice came out of the loudspeaker on the helicopter. “Are you kids OK? We just saw … Well, we’re not sure what we just saw,” it said.
We gave the pilots a thumbs-up too.
“Is the missing boy still at sea?” the pilots asked.
Pradeep and I shouted together, “No, that’s him!” and pointed to Mark, who looked even grumpier than before.
They waved and circled once more before heading off down the coast.
Mark complained all the way down the stairs, but every time he stopped walking, Frankie jumped in the sick bag and splashed water at him until he carried on.
At the front door of the lighthouse we met our dads and the lighthouse keeper.
“We found Mark,” I said, holding the sick bag with Frankie in it behind my back. “He was upstairs in the lamp room.”
“We thought you were out in the boat! You can’t just disappear like that! You are in big trouble!” Dad yelled at Mark. Then his eyes softened. “But I’m glad you’re OK, Son.”
He gave Mark a hug.
Mark did not look pleased.
“I suppose you made a mess of my shipshape lighthouse as well, did ya?” the lighthouse keeper grumbled.
“Um,” Mark said, “it was the morons’ fault, they—”
The lighthous
e keeper interrupted him. “Then you can spend tomorrow mopping and cleaning it up till it shines like the scales of an eel,” he said.
Pradeep’s dad turned to Sami. “And how are you, little precious?”
“Daddy, swishy fishy came back and we climbed high and eel went buzzzzzzzz, and then fishy and eel go zap, zap, and then shiny, shiny light and Zarky go splash and you come home.” She took a deep breath and gave her dad a huge hug.
Pradeep’s dad gave Pradeep a look that said, “Huh?”
We all went inside, and since nobody had caught any fish, we ordered pizza for dinner. I made sure to get one with green peppers and spinach for Frankie. No mould or green cupcake crumbs for him tonight. We had a big day out in the boat to look forward to, while the lighthouse keeper made Mark clean up.
CHAPTER 19
THE MYSTERY OF EEL BAY
The next day was bright and sunny. By the time we got up and out, there were already lots of boats on the water, and cars were pulling into the lighthouse drive to ask the lighthouse keeper if he had any rooms to rent.
“We heard there was a giant electric eel in these waters,” one lady said.
“A coast guard helicopter filmed it leaping off the lighthouse and sparking all the way down to the water! It was all over the TV this morning,” another man with a fancy camera said.
As we rowed away in A Vision of Velma, the lighthouse keeper shot me a look from the jetty that said, “Thanks,” and he smiled.
I looked over at Pradeep to see whether he had seen the lighthouse keeper’s look, and then we both shot him back a look that said, “How do you know our looks?”
His answer look said, “Do you young whipper-snappers think I was never ten years old? I invented secret looks before you were even born!”
With that he tipped his flat cap to us and went off to shout at Mark to mop up a spot he had missed on the stairs.
When we looked back toward the jetty, he was waving a small World Cup flag.
“Darn, he invented that, too!” Pradeep and I both looked at each other as the dads rowed.
When we reached the middle of the bay, we got out our cameras, trying to catch a glimpse of the amazing giant electric eel.
Dad reached down for the cooler at my feet. “Good idea to bring some drinks, Tom,” he said. “With all this rowing, I’ve worked up quite a thirst.” I quickly shot Pradeep a look that said, “SOS!”
“Wow, look over there!” Pradeep yelled. “I think I see the eel.”
Everyone turned to look the other way.
I quickly reached into the cooler and scooped Frankie out. As I cupped him in my hands I whispered, “Time for a swim, Frankie, but not for so long this time, OK?”
He flipped into the water with a splash.
“Swishy fishy go swimming!” Sami squealed.
“I do hope we get to see the eel before it’s time to go back,” said Pradeep’s dad.
As if on cue, Zarky flew into the air in front of our boat, electric sparks flying off his fins as he jumped.
Cameras clicked and tourists gasped. Zarky turned to us and gave us a little eel smile. I think he was enjoying all the attention. He came down with a mighty splash just by some boats. But this time no one screamed or called him evil. Instead they all clapped.
“Oh, doesn’t he look beautiful when he sparkles against the water?” one tourist said as she snapped a close-up.
With all the attention on Zarky, no one seemed to notice a little gold fleck in the water swimming beside him. I zoomed in with my camera to get a closer look. Frankie was jumping through the waves in time with Zarky, followed by a whole school of new fishy friends.
“You know what, Pradeep?” I grinned. “I kinda like being a meddling kid on a mystery adventure, as long as we’ve got our zombie goldfish along for the ride.”
TO BE A ZOMBIE OR NOT TO BE A ZOMBIE … THAT IS THE QUESTION
CHAPTER 1
RUN, ZOMBIE, RUN
Pradeep and I ran down the road toward the school gates.
“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” Pradeep shouted over his shoulder. He was way ahead of me. Not because he’s a faster runner, but because:
a) Frankie, my pet zombie goldfish, was in a plastic bag in my backpack and the water kept sloshing from side to side as I ran, which kinda threw my balance off.
b) I was carrying a big wooden stick under each arm.
c) I was running toward school an hour earlier than I actually had to be there and every cell in my body was telling me that this was just wrong!
Frankie was pretty shaken up from all this running and that didn’t make him happy. I don’t know if any of you have dealt with a pet zombie goldfish that’s been brought back to life by battery after he’d been fatally gunked with toxic stuff—but they’re not exactly chilled-out pets.
We raced through the gates, up the front steps, and down the corridor into the main hall. By the time we arrived at the auditions for the school play, Pradeep and I were panting. And we weren’t even the first ones to get there! There was already a long line that snaked out of the side door and down past the dressing rooms.
“I thought we’d be first here,” Pradeep said, looking around.
“At least there’s time for extra breakfast,” I said, unpacking all the snacks we’d brought.
“You’re right,” Pradeep said, digging Frankie out of the bag too. “We’re gonna need it.”
Frankie glared at me and Pradeep.
“Sorry, Frankie,” I whispered. “We were running late.”
Now, Pradeep eats when he’s nervous and I eat when I’m bored, so between us we hoovered up our snack rations pretty fast.
Two granola bars, three apples, and several of Pradeep’s mom’s samosas later, we were still waiting, along with Kevin Bradley (the junior choir champion) outside the hall doors.
Suddenly I noticed that Kevin was mumbling “Swishy little fishy…” and picking out green M&M’s from his lunch box. Frankie must have rolled his bag over there and hypnotized Kevin in search of a snack! (Zombie goldfish have a thing about anything green—especially food!)
“I guess Frankie needed a second breakfast too,” I sighed.
After we’d convinced Frankie to un-hypnotize Kevin (but only after making him forget he ever saw a zombie goldfish with hypnotic powers), we gave Frankie some mouldy bits of old samosa that we’d saved for him, then zipped him up tight in the backpack. We couldn’t risk him being spotted again.
“I knew you shouldn’t have brought Frankie,” Pradeep said as he paced up and down the corridor after Kevin had gone in to do his audition.
“I had to,” I said back. “The first rehearsal is right after school. I couldn’t risk Mark being home alone with Frankie until we got back.” Frankie still holds a pretty big grudge against Mark, my Evil Scientist big brother, for trying to murder him with toxic gunk as part of one of his evil experiments.
“Oh, OK.” Pradeep nodded. “But don’t you mean if we get cast in the show?”
“She’d be crazy not to pick us,” I said. “Where else is she gonna find better stick-fighting, arrow-shooting, rope-swinging Merry Men in this school?”
Pradeep smiled. He knew it was true. We had practiced jumping off things and onto things, swinging from things, fighting with things, shooting at things, and generally being the best Merry Men any Robin Hood could ever want. This year the play was going to be epic.
I peeked through the door into the hall. Kevin was onstage doing his song. It would be our turn next. “Was it this long a wait at the auditions last year, Pradeep?” I asked.
“No, but it wasn’t really an audition. They just said yes to everyone that showed up,” he said. “This new drama teacher said she’s holding proper auditions this year.”
I hadn’t done the school play in a while. Not since kindergarten when we did the Nativity story and I tried to add a little action. The teacher didn’t think a ninja donkey would have been at the manger. I disagreed.
After I s
tarted kickboxing with a couple of Wise Men, the teacher said maybe I should stick to backstage stuff in the future. And that’s what I’d done. But this year was the first time they’d picked a real action play, and it was a musical, too, so I told Pradeep I’d come with him to try out.
He had been in loads of the plays, but he still got nervous.
“You’ll be fine, Pradeep,” I said as he took off his glasses to clean them for the twenty-third time that hour. “You always get a part,” I added.
“Yeah, but always as the same thing,” he moaned.
“That’s not true. What were you again in that cowboy musical in first grade?”
“A cactus,” he said.
“Oh yeah, and in Aladdin the next year?”
“A palm tree,” he answered.
“Um, OK,” I said, biting my lip. “But last year in that eco-musical thing you had a really good part, didn’t you?”
“I was a ginkgo,” he sighed.
“A really cool lizard kind of thing, right?” I checked.
“No, that’s a gecko,” he groaned. “A ginkgo is a tree!” Pradeep looked down at his feet. “I don’t care if I get to be a Merry Man or a guard or whatever this time. I just don’t want to be a plant again.”
That was it! We had to get the parts of Merry Men now to prove that I could do an action part (better than the ninja donkey) and that Pradeep could do more than play a tree.
Kevin finally came out and it was our turn. As I double-checked that Frankie was still safe in the backpack, I started thinking about the kindergarten Nativity play again. I think I was getting myself back in the ninja zone for the audition. I slipped the backpack over my shoulder as we walked into the school hall.
“Pradeep, what were you in the kindergarten Nativity play?” I wondered.
“I guess it wasn’t very memorable.” He paused. “I was the Christmas tree.”
CHAPTER 2
THE PLAY’S THE THING
Pradeep and I walked into the hall, where the first thing we saw was Mrs. Flushcowski, the new drama teacher. Can I just say, if you have a name with a toilet sound and a farm animal in it, you should just give up and not become a teacher. There’s just no challenge in making up a teacher nickname when you start with that.