by Eric Geron
“Ben,” said Carlos, running to the pile of sheets. “Help me with the tarp.”
Ben and Carlos carried the tarp to Evie and Jay, and the four of them started to cover up the limo. After all, the car stood out like a shiny new penny in a garbage pile, and the friends didn’t want to rouse any suspicious looks from possible passersby. That was the last thing they needed.
Evie looked around uneasily. “It’s really weird being back,” she told Jay.
“We’ll get in and get out,” he assured her.
“Jay.” Carlos got his attention and tossed half the tarp over the top of the limo to his friend.
Jay, along with Evie, took it, and they finished making sure the limo was completely hidden.
Meanwhile, Ben wandered to the giant rusty pipe tunnel. He peered inside it for a good long moment. “Hey! What’s in here?” Ben called back to the others.
Carlos, Jay, and Evie rushed to Ben’s side.
“You don’t want to know,” said Jay.
Carlos pulled Ben away from the opening.
“Hey, guys.” Carlos turned to the whole group. “Keep it chill. All right? Last thing we need is our parents figuring out we’re here.”
His friends nodded in agreement as they all took off, away from the limo and around a dark bend. They entered a seedy alleyway where tattered sheets hung from rickshaws and covered dirty entryways. Two unkempt children in shabby coats ran up to Evie, and one of them tried to pickpocket her.
“Hey,” said Evie. “Hey! What are you doing?” She gripped an arm of each child.
They struggled against her, wriggling like eels.
“Stop!” said Evie. She released them, then reached into her pocket and held her tiny coin purse out to them. “Here. Just take it,” she said, extending it to one.
The little kid grabbed it and scampered off.
Evie turned to Jay and Carlos, realizing Ben was nowhere in sight. “Ben,” Evie said, sighing. The three marched down the alley to find him.
Ben had wandered ahead of his friends into a covered marketplace: Low Tide Lane, a remote alley where pirates sold their decrepit wares. He looked around at the clutter of barrels, lanterns, and splintered pieces of wood. Signs advertised crabgrass, grit, pond scum, and worms, and a black street sign with a double-sided white arrow pointing in opposite directions read NO WAY. Haggard pirates dozed behind their busted makeshift carts while others carried baskets of trash. Ben was in awe of the Isle, which until then had been a place he had only ever heard about.
It was far worse than he had expected. Yet he also found an odd beauty to it.
Ben’s sights landed on a scrappy pirate, and Ben waved at him and smiled. The pirate glared back at him. Ben extended his arm and welcomed a handshake, but the pirate only lunged at Ben and growled.
Evie appeared with Jay and Carlos, and she gripped Ben’s arm. “Stop it. Just stop.”
Carlos stepped between Ben and the disgruntled pirate, ready to fight, but Jay yanked Carlos back. Now wasn’t the time to be starting something. Luckily, the pirate wasn’t interested in Carlos anyway.
Ben looked at his friends. “What?” he asked with a shrug, unsure of why they were so concerned. After all, he believed there was good in everyone—even there.
“This isn’t a parade. This is the Isle,” said Evie.
“Just keep your hands in your pockets unless you’re stealing,” said Jay.
“Yeah, you either slouch or you strut,” said Carlos.
“And never, ever smile,” said Evie.
Ben nodded. “Okay, thank you, guys—”
“No!” Evie motioned for silence. “Forget the thank-yous! And no please, either! Just…chill.”
Evie, Carlos, and Jay went on to Ben about how he had to work on fitting in more on the Isle to throw off any suspicious looks. They explained the importance of dragging one’s feet, nodding one’s head, and leaning back. They preached to him not to care or stare and taught him how to watch his back, creep around, and chill like a true villain. Ben let it all sink in. Within moments, he began walking the walk and couldn’t help smirking, pleased with himself for being able to fit in perfectly there. Not only did he look the part now, but he also acted it.
Now that Ben had mastered the art of appearing villainous, the crew headed through a sordid alley. It was finally time to find Mal and get her back.
Not far off, Gaston’s oafish son Gil was pilfering eggs from a merchant. He had run out and needed more protein for his muscles. Gil turned and ran into Ben. “Hey, man,” Gil said angrily. He did a double take. “Hey, man…I know you!”
“Nope!” said Ben, shrugging and turning away. “I don’t know you, either, so—”
“No, no, no! Yeah, you definitely know me! C’mon! C’mon, man, you know me. Okay, okay. I’ll give you a hint, all right?” He grinned. “My dad is slick, quick, and his neck is incredibly thick.”
Ben looked at him blankly, then exchanged glances with his friends.
“Nothing?” asked Gil. “Come on, man. You’re—” Gil, in his fingerless yellow gloves, pointed at a poster of King Ben on the alley wall that had RIDE WITH THE TIDE spray-painted over it in black paint. Then Gil pointed to Ben. Then he did that a few more times until it all began to sink in. He was a little slow, to say the least. “Whoa, you’re King Ben!” Gil exclaimed.
“Uh, let’s go,” said Evie, guiding Ben past Gil, with Jay and Carlos flanking them.
“Yeah, no, you totally are King Ben!” cried Gil, watching as they passed. “And you’re Jay, Carlos, Evie—hey, guys!” he said cheerily. Then his expression set into a huge oafish grin. “Uma’s gonna love this!” He could barely contain his excitement. Gil turned and hurried off.
Before long, Jay, Evie, Ben, and Carlos arrived at the foot of the bridge hideout, where they knew they would find Mal. Ben noticed her scooter lying on its side under the stairs, and he inspected its beat-up, graffitied varnish. He had never imagined his gift would take her to the Isle.
Meanwhile, Jay grabbed a rock and lobbed it at the sign. The gate glided up, and Jay steered Ben toward the stairs. Ben peered into the darkness of the staircase that wound its way to the top of the hideout; then he looked back at his friends.
“Wish me luck.” Ben started up the stairs.
Watching him vanish, Jay, Evie, and Carlos leaned and sat, prepared to wait.
My old hideout definitely ain’t what it used to be.
Nothing a li’l spray paint can’t fix, though.
Inside a shoddy tower, Ben climbed the steps toward the sound of hissing spray paint.
He stopped on a platform, noticing the grimy, dank vibe, and then followed the noise down a flight of steps into Mal’s hideout. Eyes wide, he took in the graffitied walls and continued to make his way farther into the room.
He stopped short. There was Mal. She stood on an old trunk facing the wall and worked furiously on a self-portrait of a wild purple-haired Isle version of her tearing her way out of the ice-blond Auradon princess version of her.
Talk about making a statement.
Ben quietly approached Mal. “At least I don’t see a picture of me with horns and a pitchfork,” he said jokingly.
Mal whipped around. “Ben,” she said, surprised.
He took another step toward her.
She held out her hand, motioning for him to stop.
Ben froze. “Mal, I’m so sorry about our fight. It was all my fault.” He held out his beast-head ring. “Please come home.”
Mal stepped down off the trunk, hanging her head, and tossed the spray paint can into a rusty shopping cart with a clatter. “Ben, this is my home,” said Mal softly. She stopped in front of Ben, leaving some space between them.
Ben smiled warmly at her. “I brought the limo. It’s a sweet ride.”
Mal looked at his beast-head ring for a moment, then folded her arms. “I don’t fit in. I really tried, Ben. I really gave it a shot. And if you think I can change, I think you’re wrong.”
&
nbsp; Ben opened his arms. “Then I’ll change. I’ll skip school, I’ll blow off some of my responsibilities—”
“No! No!” Mal shook her head. “See? I am such a terrible influence! I mean, it’s only a matter of time before I do something so messed up that the people turn on not only me, but they turn on you!”
Ben took Mal’s hand. “Don’t quit us, Mal. The people love you. I love you.” He handed her the ring.
Mal stared at Ben in silence. She wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Don’t you love me?” Ben asked quietly.
Mal took his beast-head ring, put it in his hand, and closed it. “I have to take myself out of the picture, because it’s what’s best for you and it’s what’s best for Auradon.”
Ben took a step toward her. “Mal, please.”
Mal put her hand on his chest to stop him. “I can’t do this.” She turned and walked back to the shopping cart, where she picked up the spray paint can. “You have to go,” she said. She stepped up on the trunk and faced the wall. Then she turned and saw that Ben was still standing there. “Ben, please go. Please leave.”
Ben hung his head and slowly backed out of the room until he was out of sight.
Suddenly, Mal felt as shaken as her spray paint can.
She tried her hardest not to cry.
Outside, Carlos, Jay, and Evie stirred as they heard Ben heading down the stairs.
The gate slid up, Ben walked out, and then the gate started closing behind him. “She’s not coming back,” he said, walking past them and down the abandoned alley.
Evie’s mouth was agape. “What?” she exclaimed.
Carlos and Jay exchanged alarmed looks.
Evie walked to the gate, but it slammed shut. She was too late. She walked to the call horn and spoke into it. “M? Mal? Just let us up. We just want to talk.”
Inside the hideout, Mal had pulled a giant lever to lock the gate. Her voice sounded through the horn. “Go away!”
Evie, Jay, and Carlos looked at each other, at a loss.
Jay rested a hand on Evie’s shoulder. “Let’s just give her a couple of hours to cool off, all right?”
Carlos looked down the alley, which fluttered with rags. “Guys…” he said.
Jay and Evie gathered beside him, and Evie said, “What?”
“Where’s Ben?” asked Carlos.
Evie peered down the dim alley. “Ben?” she called out.
A dark silhouette walked toward them.
“Ben?” Evie sighed, relieved. “Ben! Don’t scare us like that.”
The figure stepped closer. But it wasn’t Ben.
“Don’t scare you?” Harry repeated sweetly. “You see, but that’s my specialty.”
“Harry,” gasped Evie.
Jay took a step toward him. “What did you do with Ben?” he demanded.
“Hmmm? Oh! We nicked him. Yeah, and if you ever want to see him again, have Mal come to the chip shop tonight. Alone. Uma wants a little visit.” Harry smiled and looked at them, landing his sights on Jay. “Aww. Seems you’ve lost your edge, Jay.”
Jay lunged at him, but Carlos held Jay back.
Harry giggled, then began to whistle as he strolled off down the alley.
Evie, Jay, and Carlos looked on, horrified.
Inside the hideout, Mal confronted Evie, Jay, and Carlos. “If you guys never would have brought him here, this never would have happened! What were you thinking?” Mal yelled.
“M, he was going to come with or without us. We wanted to protect him,” said Evie.
“Yeah, which we blew,” added Carlos, throwing his arms up.
“Okay, okay. So what are we gonna do?” asked Jay.
“We are not doing anything,” Mal insisted, stopping in front of her friends. “This is between Uma and me. She’s a punk, and now I need to go get him.” She picked up her leather-studded backpack from the dusty old couch.
She could feel the weight of her spell book inside it. Wish I could use it here to get us out of this, she thought. Dumb Auradon rules strike again.
“Whoaaa, Mal. You’re gonna have to go through Harry Hook and his wharf rats, and Gil…” said Carlos.
“Exactly. You need us,” said Jay.
Mal shook her head. “Uma said to come alone.”
Evie put her hands on her hips. “Mal, come on.”
Carlos shrugged and looked at Evie and Jay. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
Evie sighed, knowing he was right.
“I know one thing,” said Carlos. “I’m not going anywhere.” He sat on the couch.
Jay nodded. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Ugh! seriously, why did my friends have to come here?
Once I get Ben back from Uma, I’ll send everyone on their way. P.S. I can’t wait to see the look on Uma’s face when I tell her that the Princess of Evil is back and here to stay.
In her apron, Uma emerged from the kitchen in Ursula’s Fish and Chips.
She carried a tray of fish and chips in each hand and dropped one onto the long wooden table in front of an old pirate who looked like she wore a potato sack. The fish and chips flew off the tray with the impact and landed on the dirty table.
“Hey! I wanted the fried clams!” the angry customer shouted at Uma.
The other diners looked up from their tables at the outburst.
Uma wheeled menacingly on the customer. “And I wanted a sea pony. Life ain’t fair.”
The customer recoiled.
Uma strolled across the diner and roughly slid the other tray of food onto a table. “Order up,” she mumbled. She looked up, and a smile spread across her face as she watched the dingy green doors to the diner open and Mal strut into the building.
Mal paused in the doorway. “I’m baaa-ack!” she sang.
Uma cackled. “Loser, party of one,” she said. “Right this way, please.” She gestured toward an empty table. As Mal approached it, Uma kicked a chair toward her. But Mal was quick and caught it by its back, turned it around, and plopped down into it in front of the table. Uma crossed her arms, watching.
Mal smiled smugly. “Place still stinks,” she noted.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Uma with feigned concern. “We’re down a butler today, princess.” She cackled again and looked around the fetid diner at her fellow pirates.
“Where is he?” asked Mal, getting down to business.
Uma plucked off her soiled apron, dropped it onto the floor, and started to pace in front of Mal. “You know, I’ve dreamed of this,” said Uma with a smile. Then her expression hardened. “You needing something from me, and me watching you squirm like a worm on a hook.” Uma looked at the pirates, who nodded. Uma smiled again.
Mal let out a short laugh. “I’m so flattered that you dream of me. I haven’t given you a single thought since I left.”
“Oh, obviously,” said Uma, stooping so that her face was inches from Mal’s. “You have your perfect little life, don’t you? And we’re twenty years into a garbage strike.” Uma walked around the table and put a hand on the chair across from Mal.
“Listen, if you have some kind of score to settle with me, game on! I see no need to bring Ben into this,” said Mal.
“Oh, it may not be necessary, but it is so much fun.” Uma walked back around the table and moved her face close to Mal’s again. She smiled. “Here’s the deal,” she said.
Mal interrupted her with a laugh. “Just like your mother. Always a catch.”
Uma rolled up her sleeves and sat across from Mal. She slammed her elbow onto the table as if she was about to arm wrestle. “If you win, Ben is free to go,” she said.
Mal liked a challenge. She rested her elbow on the table.
The diners noticed something was going on and got up from their tables to crowd around them.
Uma grinned. “Oh, don’t you want to know what I get if I win?”
“Still dreaming,” said Mal.
Uma chuckled. “You know, as I recall, your mother thought
she had things all sewn up, too,” said Uma. “How’d that work out for her?”
Good one, thought Mal. “On three,” she said, locking eyes with Uma.
“One,” said Uma with a smile.
“Two,” Mal said flatly, betraying zero emotion.
“Three,” they said in unison.
Mal and Uma started to arm wrestle, not taking their eyes off each other. Their arms quivered. The pirates looked on, whispering among themselves.
“You know, that whole princess act?” said Uma. “I never bought it for a second. You can stick a tiara on a villain, but you’re still a villain, honey.”
“Aw, and you can throw a pirate hat on, but you’re still Shrimpy,” said Mal.
Uma faltered for a split second but then regained control. Mal’s eyes flashed green. She pushed Uma’s hand down so that it was mere inches from the table.
“If I win,” said Uma through bared teeth, “you bring me the wand.”
Mal gawked, and the green light drained from her eyes. In that moment, Uma rammed Mal’s arm down onto the table. Mal gasped. Uma howled with laughter. The pirates around them cheered, and Uma stood and threw her hands up victoriously.
Uma hunched over the table and glowered at Mal. “Now, if you want beasty boy back, bring Fairy Godmother’s magic wand to my ship tomorrow at twelve o’clock noon. Sharp!” Uma started to walk away. “Oh, and if you blab, you can kiss your baby good-bye.” Uma sauntered off and left Mal shaking her head.
Losing to Uma had not been part of Mal’s plan.
Great. we still don’t have Ben safe and sound. And now I have to get my hands on the wand. Wouldn’t be the first time. Only, this time it’s a matter of life or death.
No pressure, Mal.
Inside the bridge hideout, Mal relayed the dire news to her friends.
Carlos was seated at the desk, Jay was sprawled out on the couch, and Evie stood behind him. They watched Mal pace back and forth.
“Ugh! There’s no way we’re going to give Uma the wand,” said Evie. “Are you kidding, like we’re just going to let her destroy Auradon?” She threw her hands up.
“We don’t give Uma the wand and Ben is toast, guys,” said Carlos.