Invasion of the Junkyard Hog

by Bill Doyle

  “Too bad,” Keats said. “Looks like we’ll just stay on the—”

  “Yap!” Fidon’t interrupted. Then he took off, bouncing faster than ever on his spring legs.

  The cousins watched him go for a second.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Henry said. “Follow that toy!”

  HENRY AND KEATS chased after the dog as he bounded down the path.

  Twice Fidon’t wandered off into junk that had fallen from the walls. He chose the trickiest route through the heaps. The cousins had to pick their way behind him like mountain goats.

  After a couple minutes of this, Keats started to doubt Fidon’t.

  “I think he’s toying with us,” Keats muttered as his sneaker got stuck between a concrete ramp and a canoe.

  Up ahead, Fidon’t did backflips like he thought this was hilarious. Then he spotted the ramp, too. His marble eyes squinted, and he growled.

  Keats freed his shoe and followed the toy’s eyes. The ramp led to an open garage door in the middle of the wall of junk. Tire tracks went up the ramp and stopped inside the doorway. The space was dark, but Keats could see another big door on the far end.

  “It might be some kind of tunnel,” Keats said.

  Henry pumped his fist. “Yes! It’s a shortcut!” he said. “We won’t have to go all the way around the junkyard. We can cut through. Come on!”

  Keats hesitated. “The Cigam sisters said to stay on the path,” he reminded Henry.

  “They also told us we’d be safe from the flying hog,” Henry said.

  “Good point,” Keats said. He followed Henry into the tunnel.

  But Fidon’t didn’t seem to like the idea. He crouched at the entrance and yapped louder than ever. The sound bounced off the metal walls. Keats winced, thinking about the hog.

  “Fidon’t!” he said. “Shhh!”

  The dog spit the toy wrench out of his mouth. He leapt into the air and his teeth latched on to Keats’s jacket.

  “Hey!” Keats shouted. The dog tugged so hard that he tore a piece off Keats’s sleeve. Fidon’t ran to the middle of the path and shook the cloth in his mouth. His yapping was muffled but still loud.

  Then Keats saw his fear coming true. A shadow streaked over the junk wall behind Fidon’t.

  “The junkyard hog is coming!” Henry said. “It must have heard the racket!”

  “Watch out, Fidon’t!” Keats said. The toy dog yapped one last time and ran off down the path. On the ground, the hog’s shadow got larger.

  Henry yanked Keats inside the tunnel. “Close the door!” he said. Henry jumped up to grab the lip of the garage door. He pulled, but it didn’t budge.

  Meanwhile, outside, the shadow was getting nearer.

  Why is the hog still coming? Keats panicked. We aren’t using magic!

  He spotted the answer. The bag with the wand had opened slightly when Henry jumped for the door. Keats reached over and zipped it up. Not soon enough.

  “Yooodooohooo!” the hog yodeled from above. Keats knew what that meant. It was about to dive-bomb.

  Keats pulled on the door, too. Groaning, the cousins put all their weight into it. The door slowly clattered down. It locked into place with a loud kerklunk.

  Henry and Keats were now in the pitch dark.

  Wham! The hog hit the outside of the door.

  “Ahhh!” Keats yelled. The cousins stumbled back into the blackness of the tunnel. Keats pressed the button on the side of his watch, and its dim light came on.

  In the glow, they saw the dull gleam of the metal walls. Henry walked slowly to the door.

  “There isn’t even a dent,” Henry said. “It’s made of really strong steel.” He pressed his ear up against the door. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “The hog must have gone after Fidon’t,” Keats said. “I hope the little guy is okay.”

  “I hope we’re okay!” Henry said. He ran his hand along the door. “I don’t see any handle. There’s no way to open it!”

  Keats blinked. Was he imagining it, or was the light from his watch starting to fade?

  “Come on. Come on,” Keats said, tapping the face of the watch. Soon it flickered like a sick firefly.

  “Maybe the batteries just need some more power,” Henry said. “We can use that wandless spell.”

  Keats didn’t like messing around with magic. But who wanted to be stuck in a dark room?

  “Okay,” he said. He held his watch near his face. “Better bet this battered battery will be better yet.”

  A sizzling sound and—

  Fzzzt!

  Light shot from his watch! The beam cut through the darkness. It made Keats feel like he had a lighthouse on his wrist.

  “See?” Henry said. “Using magic is a good thing!”

  Wazunk! The metal floor under their feet shuddered.

  “What is that? An earthquake?” Keats asked. A whirring sound came from the walls, like a motor had just started.

  Henry gave Keats a funny look. “Hey, are you getting bigger?”

  Keats flashed the light around to each of the four walls. They were moving. “No,” he said. “The room is getting smaller!”

  When they’d first entered the room, it had been as long as a bus. Not anymore. Now Keats understood why the car tracks stopped in the middle of the space. Cars drove in. But they didn’t drive out.

  “This isn’t a tunnel!” Keats said. “It’s a car crusher! It smashes cars into little cubes!”

  Henry’s eyes widened as he got it. “And we just turned it on with that spell,” he said. “We have to get out of here!”

  “Try the other door!” Keats said. They dashed to the far end. The handle on that door was missing, too. A bolt stuck out instead. It was like a window crank without the handle.

  Keats tried to turn it. No luck.

  “We need the wrench from Fidon’t,” Henry said, looking around the room.

  Keats pointed his watch around the space. Finally he spotted the wrench. “There!” One of the side walls was just sliding over it.

  Henry dove and snatched up the wrench before it vanished under the moving wall. He put the wrench around the bolt and turned it once. The door rose half an inch.

  “Hurry!” Keats said. A side wall pushed into his shoe.

  “I’m trying!” Henry said. The door crept up another inch, and then another. Light and fresh air flowed into the space. Keats could see a ramp on the other side.

  Henry turned the wrench two more times. The door had lifted about a foot off the ground. That would have to be enough. The room was the size of a shower stall and still shrinking.

  “Quick!” Keats yelled.

  He squeezed through the gap. Henry followed, but halfway through, he shouted, “I’m stuck!”

  The backpack was jammed inside the door. Henry slid his arms out of the straps. He squirmed under the door until he was next to Keats on the ramp.

  Henry reached back into the shrinking space.

  “No, Henry!” Keats yelled.

  “The wand is in there!” Henry said. He plucked the backpack free just as the walls slammed together with a bang! The crusher’s machinery wound down and stopped.

  The cousins lay on the ramp, sucking in air.

  “Whoa,” Henry gasped.

  “That was way too close,” Keats said. He sat up, his heart still pounding. Where were they now? Were they by the exit?

  Rusted metal cubes sat in the dirt at the bottom of the ramp. It looked like the crusher had taken them to a large circle made by a wall of junk.

  “Uh-oh,” Keats said.

  “What is this place?” Henry said.

  Keats shook his head. “We’re in the one spot the sisters told us not to go,” he said. “We’re in the center of the junkyard.”

  THE COUSINS CLIMBED to their feet. Henry slipped on the backpack.

  “It looks like a stadium,” Henry said as he stared out at the circle. “Or a place where gladiators fought.”

  Keats’s eyes ran along t
he solid wall of junk. He was searching for a gap or a door. In the center of the circle, a crane sat on a platform by bins of parts.

  “The crusher is the only way in and out of here,” Keats said. Panic made his heart race. “And now that way is shut. We’re trapped! We’ll be easy pickings for the junkyard hog!”

  “Easy, cuz,” Henry said. He stared at the cubes lined up in rows between them and the crane. “Those are cars, right?”

  “I guess,” Keats said. “Or they were before the crusher squashed them.”

  “Yes!” Henry said, pumping his fist in the air.

  Keats groaned. “You’re excited about being trapped in a car graveyard?”

  “You got it!” Henry cheered. “You told the sisters yourself. Your dad uses a compass in his …”

  “In his car?” Keats said. He still wasn’t sure where this was going.

  Henry nodded. “Think about it. In every section of the junkyard, the extra parts have been taken off and thrown into bins.” He pointed to the bins in the center of the circle. “Those are the parts from the cars. If your dad has a compass in his car, maybe other people did, too!”

  Now Keats was excited. “I didn’t think of that!”

  Henry laughed. “You’re not the only genius on the team.”

  “All we have to do is get the compass. We stop the needle and blammo! The sisters will come and get us!” Keats said.

  The cousins dashed to the bins, past the cubes of crushed cars. Keats shivered. He knew the cubes were just hunks of metal. But there was something creepy about them.

  When they made it to the crane, Henry pulled himself up over the edge of the platform. He reached back down to help Keats. The bins on the platform were taller than any others they’d seen in the junkyard. Keats tried peeking inside one, but it was too full of parts for him to see everything.

  “Hmmm,” Keats said. “There’s a door on the side of each bin.… What if …?”

  “Great idea!” Henry was already moving. He lifted the latch on a door of one bin and swung it open. Hubcaps poured onto the platform.

  “No compasses here,” Henry said. “Let’s try another one.”

  The next bin was filled with headlights. The one after that held steering wheels. Finally there was only one bin left.

  Keats crossed his fingers. If they didn’t find the compass, they’d be trapped here.

  Henry pulled the last door open and everything inside tumbled out. Rearview mirrors. Sun visors. Door locks. Handles. And—

  “Compasses!” Henry and Keats shouted at the same time.

  All sorts of compasses clattered onto the platform and spilled over the side. Several had cracked glass domes. A few had black square cases. One was gold.

  This last one caught Keats’s eye. It tumbled off the edge of the platform and landed on one of the car cubes below.

  Keats leaned over the side of the platform for a better look. This compass was shaped like a pineapple. It had a long chain and a shark carved on its lid. “That must be it!” he yelled.

  Henry gave Keats a high five. “It’s definitely weird enough to belong to the Cigams.”

  Keats and Henry jumped down from the platform onto the car cube. The compass shook as they landed. Its lid popped open and a puff of air blew at them.

  “Phew!” Henry held his nose. “Oh man, that’s foul.”

  “Is that mothballs?” Keats said, wrinkling his nose. “Oh no.” His stomach flip-flopped. “It smells just like the mixed-up magic from Mr. Cigam’s house.”

  “You’re right!” Henry said. “Maybe air from Hallway House was trapped inside the compass!”

  Keats knew how fast mixed-up magic could spread. That meant …

  “Everything is about to get nutty,” Henry finished his thought for him.

  As if it heard him, the cube under the compass jerked forward a few feet. Then, with a rattling noise, it started sliding across the dirt.

  “Grab the compass!” Henry shouted.

  He and Keats jumped down, and they chased after the cube. They were getting closer when—

  “Yooodooohooo!” A yodel cut through the air.

  Before they knew what was happening, a blur of movement crossed their vision.

  Whoomp! The hog crash-landed next to the cube twenty feet from the cousins. The hog snorted and sniffed. With a happy squeal, it lowered its head and speared the chain of the compass around one tusk.

  “No!” Keats shouted.

  Without even glancing at Henry and Keats, the hog beat its wings and took off. In a second, it was airborne and heading out of the junkyard.

  FOR A MOMENT, Keats was too stunned to speak. The junkyard hog had the compass!

  Meanwhile, as the air from Mr. Cigam’s house spread, more car cubes were waking up. They made weird revving noises like they were about to race. One slid through the dirt and banged into Henry’s leg.

  “Ow!” Henry yelped. “Retreat! Back to the platform—now!”

  Dodging the cubes, the cousins raced to the crane platform and pulled themselves up.

  “If the hog leaves with the compass, the sisters will be dizzy forever,” Keats said. “And we’ll never get out of here!”

  A ladder welded to the side of the crane caught Keats’s eye. He climbed a few rungs up and called, “Sooooieeee!”

  The hog got smaller and smaller as it flew farther away. It didn’t even slow down.

  “Hog calling was worth a try,” Henry said. “But I’ve got another idea.” He unzipped the backpack. “The wand! If I wave it, the hog might come back. You can grab the compass off his tusk, and we’ll be set.”

  “What?” Keats couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s your World’s Greatest Plan?”

  “No.” Henry shrugged. “I never said it was great.” He wasn’t scratching his chin. He was telling Keats the truth. “It’s just a plan.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Keats moaned.

  Henry started waving the wand.

  Keats squinted to track the hog. “It’s not stopping!” he said.

  “Go higher,” Henry said. Keats pushed aside the crane’s chain and climbed three more rungs. Henry stepped up behind him on the ladder.

  “How about now?” Henry asked.

  “Still no …,” Keats said. “Wait a second!” The flying hog had slowed down. Then it wheeled around.

  “Here it comes!” Keats said.

  “I knew it couldn’t resist the smell of magic,” Henry said. “It’d be like you saying no to a book!”

  The hog crossed the space back to the platform in seconds. It swept in low, sniffing the air. Henry moved the wand more slowly. “Wow,” he said. “This is a stunner of a bad idea.”

  Keats couldn’t have said it better himself. He almost hoped the junkyard hog wouldn’t take the bait.

  On the next pass, the hog dove lower. It opened its mouth and chomped down on the wand!

  “Ah!” Henry’s arm jerked up with the wand. “Now, Keats!” he shouted.

  Keats grabbed for the compass. But the hog’s wings flapped in his face. Its hooves knocked into his hand. And the super swine stench made him gag. Plus, the crane’s chain swung back and forth between him and the hog.

  “I can’t get it!” Keats shouted.

  Henry groaned as the hog pulled harder. He had one hand on the ladder and the other on the wand. Keats could see him straining to keep his grip.

  “Let it go!” Keats said. “Or you’ll fall!”

  “No!” Henry said. “I won’t let the hog have the wand and the compass!”

  Keats reached out again, but the chain was still in the way. Wait! Maybe the chain wasn’t in the way. Maybe it was the way. He looped an arm around a ladder rung and wrapped the chain around the hog’s leg.

  “Henry!” Keats shouted. “Let it have the wand!”

  “You sure?” Henry said.

  Keats nodded. “Trust me!”

  Henry let go and grabbed the ladder with both hands.

  With t
he wand in its mouth, the hog flew higher into the air. But it didn’t get far. The chain around its leg pulled tight. Like a fish on the line, the hog was jerked back down.

  Flapping its wings furiously, the hog struggled to get free. The crane rocked as it pulled even harder.

  Twenty-five feet above the cousins, the hog flew in circles. Its small red eyes burned as it followed the chain down to the cousins. Keats could almost read its thoughts: “Oh! You did this to me!”

  For the first time, the hog seemed to really notice them.

  And it was angry.

  With its teeth still clamped down on the wand, the hog made a squealing sound—

  ZAP!

  A lightning bolt shot out of the end of the wand.

  “Watch out!” Henry shouted.

  The bolt hit one of the car cubes next to the platform. Sparks flew and the cube flipped over.

  Before Henry and Keats could move, there was another squeal and another ZAP! That bolt just barely missed them. The junkyard hog seemed to be getting more and more furious.

  “We have to hide!” Keats shouted. He and Henry scrambled down the ladder.

  Instead of running away, though, Henry pulled Keats to an open part of the platform.

  “What are you doing?” Keats cried.

  “We need the hog to give up the wand,” he said. “And there’s only one way to do it. We have to be the bait!”

  Before Keats could stop him, Henry waved his arms. “Here we are!” he yelled.

  Hovering overhead, the hog glared down at them. It seemed to be taking aim.

  “It’s going to zap us, Henry!” Keats cried.

  “Or dive-bomb!” Henry said with a wink.

  A-ha! Now Keats could guess what Henry had planned. He waved his arms, too.

  The hog’s lips curled into a sneer. Then it opened its mouth to give a warning yodel—

  “Yooodooohooo!”

  —and the magic wand fell out.

  “Yes!” Henry pumped his fist. The wand tumbled end over end. Keats snatched it from midair. The cousins had the wand!

  The junkyard hog rocketed toward them.

  “Duck!” Henry yanked Keats to the side. Ker-klang! The hog slammed into the platform where Keats had been standing.