“That’s right, Castorman!” Grumpel spat. “And there’s nothing you or your brat can do about it!”
“Zap him, Dad!” Elizabeth shouted. “It’ll serve them right for ruining our plans!”
“No!” Lewis screamed, charging the chemist.
Events unfolded in slow motion: Lewis rushed Grumpel, though he was too far off; the chemist laughed as he tipped the vial; and Gibiwink leaped forward and struck the vial with his tongue. Even as he hit its glass, there was a puff of smoke and the group was enveloped in a thick haze.
Time snapped back to normal. For a moment there was an unnatural stillness. The vial lay in pieces on the tiles, the puff of smoke had disappeared, and everyone’s shrieks had faded to silence. Lewis hardly dared to study the scene.
“Holy smoke!” Alfonse whispered.
“What is it?” Adelaide gasped.
The Grumpels had been struck, not Lewis’s father. Where the pair had been standing was the ugliest sight imaginable. Twitchy, awkward, and semi-transparent, like enormous bacteria, they lay there and studied each other. A hole then opened in each of these monstrosities and Lewis heard a revolting sound — it was a squeak, belch, and whistle combined. The chemist and his daughter were screaming in horror.
“Thissss issssn’t over,” the larger one gurgled. “We’lll be back!”
“We’ll crush you, Lewissss Casssstorman,” the second one hissed.
The two figures slithered into the pool and oozed across its tiles to the drain in its middle. With a ghastly, slurping, slippery sound, they contorted themselves and spiralled downward to wind up in the city’s sewage system.
Even as their squelching faded, a shadow stirred on the floor below. A hand appeared, a mane of hair, then finally Mr. Castorman was visible. A moment later he was embracing his son. For the next few minutes no one said a word, but stood there in a ring, unable to believe this happy ending.
“I’m so proud of you,” Lewis’s father finally whispered. “I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve defeated a powerful and dangerous man.”
“The Pangettis helped,” Lewis said, pointing at his friends. “And so did Todrus, I mean, Mr. Todfrey, and Mrs. — wait! Where is everyone?”
He glanced around the room, and his spirits deflated. Seated on two uniforms was a pair of wood frogs — frail, lethargic, and back to normal. Beside them three salamanders were looking around with dazed expressions.
“Todrus! Gibiwink!” Lewis cried. “What happened? Where —”
“It’s the Alienus,” Adelaide said tearfully. “It got all over them and changed them back — and that’s what happened to the bats outside.”
“They can’t just leave!” Lewis said. “I mean, Grumpel’s been beaten …”
“I’m so sorry …” his father started to say when another, distant voice spoke up.
“Lewis?” someone whispered by the exit. The voice was scratchy but somehow familiar.
“This … this isn’t possible,” Alfonse stammered when he spotted the “intruder.”
“My brother’s right!” Adelaide gasped, her eyes wide with fear. “How can this be? You’re supposed to be … dead!”
Lewis and his father turned together. Both of their jaws dropped in shock. Before them, in a diving mask and air tank, was Lewis’s mother, Sarah Castorman!
CHAPTER 20
Lewis was thrilled, delighted, overwhelmed, flabbergasted, and disbelieving when he saw his mother standing in the pool room. Before he could get out a word, however, a hundred police officers and firefighters burst in. The police were holding guns at the ready, while the firefighters had extinguishers and axes in hand.
Winbag had alerted them when he regained consciousness. Because the principal had sounded frantic, with his talk of giant frogs and a freak with tentacles, an emergency response team had rushed to the school. Apart from broken glass and a few wandering reptiles, they could see that everything was under control.
“So what’s the big emergency?” the police chief demanded, striding to the head of the crowd. He scowled when a frog climbed onto his shoe. By the markings on its skull, Lewis knew it was Todrus. “Let me guess,” he continued. “An aquarium broke and your pets got loose.”
Laughter erupted. The police officers tucked their guns away and the firefighters set their equipment down. Some of them started stroking the frogs. They were surprised when the amphibians showed no fear of humans. One cop grinned when his nose got zapped — that was Gibiwink’s doing.
“You don’t understand!” Winbag yelled from the doorway. He had refused to enter, convinced there were monsters inside. “They were here just a minute ago. Ask Mr. Grumpel himself.”
“Is that so?” the police chief said. “Where is Mr. Grumpel?”
As Winbag searched for his boss, Lewis knew it was time to speak up. “Mr. Grumpel left, with his daughter in tow. They were in a big hurry.”
“Who are you?” the police chief asked. “And why are you here at 5:00 a.m.?”
Lewis exchanged looks with his friends. He could reveal the truth about the alien, Yellow Swamp, the giant spiders, and his mother’s miraculous return, or he could tell a more believable story. He glanced at the police chief. The man seemed kind but very practical. When Alfonse shook his head, and his parents did the same, he knew exactly what to say.
“Well, sir, my friend and I are always late for school — our principal will tell you so himself. This morning we decided to show up early, together with my parents and Alfonse’s sister.”
“What about the window and the broken case?”
“I think they were Mr. Grumpel’s doing. He was performing an experiment, and it caused an explosion.”
“And these animals?” The chief almost smiled as Todrus ducked inside his jacket.
“They’re part of our family,” Lewis said. “We bring them everywhere.”
“And what about your diving outfit?” the chief asked Mrs. Castorman.
“I was hoping to test it in this pool,” she answered, “only to discover that Mr. Grumpel hasn’t filled it.”
“I see,” the chief said, suspecting there was more to the tale. “I suppose that explains everything.”
“Wait!” Winbag insisted. “What about those creatures I mentioned? And something tells me Mr. Grumpel’s in danger. Don’t listen to this pack of lies! I’m a principal, and he’s … he’s —”
“He’s a smart and gutsy kid,” a voice broke in. Everyone jumped as a figure approached. Lewis recognized him straightway.
“Fire Marshal Stephens,” the police chief said. “I didn’t notice you in all this commotion. You can vouch for this boy and these people with him?”
“You bet I can,” the fire marshal said, standing next to Lewis and shaking his hand. “He’s the most competent locksmith I’ve ever laid eyes on. The gutsiest one, as well,” he added, winking at the Castormans, who beamed with pride.
“He’s a treasure,” Mrs. Castorman agreed. “And we’d keep him under lock and key, but he’d pick his way past them.”
“That settles that,” the police chief concluded as soon as the crowd’s laughter subsided. “But just so you know, it’s Saturday and the school is closed. As for you,” he said to Winbag, who was still muttering about damage to school property, “the next time you call, you’d better not be clowning around, otherwise I’ll place you under arrest. And, incidentally, put some water in this pool!”
The firefighters and the police officers then trailed out, followed by the Pangettis and the Castorman family, with Gibiwink and Todrus riding high on Lewis’s shoulders.
“What now?” Lewis asked, cutting into his pancakes. The group was seated in the Pangettis’ bakery. When Alfonse’s parents learned that their children were back — Grumpel had told them they were away on some project — they had pulled out all the stops and had cooked a first-rate meal, one that featured every pastry on the menu, together with regular breakfast foods.
“What now?” Mrs. Castorman aske
d, picking up a syrup jug. “To begin with, I’ll renew my driver’s licence. I imagine it’s expired since I disappeared.”
“Seriously,” Lewis said to his mother as he fed a chocolate muffin to the frogs. “Take it easy,” he told Todrus and Gibiwink as they bolted the food. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“There’s a Smith D-Module I have to inspect,” Lewis’s father said, motioning for the syrup. “It’s a lock on a Ferris wheel in London, England.”
“D-Module?” his wife repeated, passing him the syrup with a look of mischief. “I thought the C-Module was the newest prototype.”
“The D-Module appeared late last fall.” He tilted the jug, but nothing came out.
“Was it painful,” Adelaide asked Mrs. Castorman, “when you underwent that transformation?”
Mrs. Castorman laughed as her husband fiddled with the jug. “You can’t open it that way. And, tell me, who designed the D-Module?”
“Squeeze the handle and push the lid,” Lewis advised his father.
“Mark Figstorm, who else?” Mr. Castorman said to his wife as he followed Lewis’s suggestion. The syrup gushed out and flooded the table. Instantly, the frogs jumped into the mess.
“Well done, Lewis,” Mrs. Castorman said, beaming. “You saw that two pressure points were needed.”
“The oldest trick in the book,” her husband groaned.
“And to answer your question,” Mrs. Castorman continued, “it felt as if I’d been wrapped in plastic and stuck inside an old iron pot.”
“What’s it like to forget your past?” Adelaide asked.
“The Bombardier loses his memory,” Alfonse muttered, freeing his finger from Gibiwink’s tongue, “but even so, he refuses to use his powers for evil.”
“Not The Bombardier!” Adelaide groaned. Eyeing Lewis and the Castormans, however, and her parents bringing yet more pastry to the table, she playfully stuck her brother with a fork. “Maybe I’ll give your comics a try.”
“It’s true what you say,” Mrs. Castorman said. “The crucial memories remain locked inside, even when everything else has vanished. And no one, not even a first-rate locksmith, can open that lock and help herself to those treasures. Although I’d rather not repeat that experience again.”
Alfonse frowned. “There’s one point I don’t get. Why did the powder change the henchmen so quickly, while Todrus and everyone else lasted an hour?”
“I suspect,” Mr. Castorman said after pausing briefly to consider the question, “that Grumpel’s henchmen didn’t like their boss and had no reason to resist the transformation. Your friends, on the other hand —” he patted Todrus “— were so attached to you that they managed to endure until the very last minute. Loyalty like that is more precious than gold.”
“But what happens now?” Lewis repeated. “I mean, what about Grumpel? What if he returns? What if he gets his hands on more powder and builds his empire all over again?”
“The future’s hidden behind a lock so strong,” Mr. Castorman said, eyeing his wife and son with contentment, “that there’s no sense trying to pry it open. You’re better off taking full advantage of the present.”
Alfonse chuckled, then pointed at a platter his father had put on the table. “Especially when the present includes hot cinnamon buns.”
The frogs leaped forward and scattered the pastries. As everyone laughed and gathered the buns, Lewis understood that, even if the future proved dangerous, his friends and parents would be there to help him through it.
As if to prove that point, Gibiwink zapped him with his tongue.
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