Then he turned back to Margo. “Now, as I was saying, where is your filthy friend?”
“Shivers, let’s go!” Margo said. She was sitting in the driver’s seat of the golf cart. She honked the tiny horn and Shivers leaped to his feet.
“It’s you!” Tobias gasped.
But Shivers was already in the passenger seat.
As the golf cart zipped away, Tobias shook his fist. “Melt down the collar! Melt down the golf cart! Melt down the whole ship!” he shouted, melting down himself.
Margo whipped the cart around a corner.
“When did you learn how to drive a golf cart?” Shivers asked.
“About ten seconds after I stole it,” said Margo.
They came to a screeching stop in front of the lobster trap.
Margo scrambled into the big metal cage. “Quick! Get in!”
Shivers and Albee squeezed in next to her.
She reached through the bars and pulled on the cables holding the trap, lowering them down as fast as she could.
Shivers noticed that Margo’s hands were suspiciously empty. “What happened to the vase?” he asked.
“Tobias took it,” Margo muttered, panting as she yanked at the cables.
“He did?! What are we going to bury at the ghost grave?!” The stink of failure hung in the air—or maybe it was just the stink of Quincy Thomas, reminding Shivers that he was getting closer by the minute.
“You don’t really think I would have let us leave that yacht empty-handed, do you?” Margo said with a smirk. “You’re wearing the biggest piece of treasure I’ve ever seen right now.”
“My bunny slippers? They are one of a kind.” He looked down at his feet. “Well, two of a kind.”
“No!” Margo laughed. “That collar!”
Shivers took off the collar and saw that it was covered in brightly colored jewels surrounding an enormous diamond. His eyes grew so wide he almost cried. “Margo, you are the greatest friend I could ever hope for.”
Margo wanted to soak up the moment, but she realized they were about to get soaked themselves. “Hold on! We’re about to hit the water!”
“AAAGH! Water!” Shivers screamed, looping the collar around his wrist and holding onto Albee with one hand and onto the bars with the other.
“Sorry, Shivers, this is going to ruin your new haircut,” said Margo.
“Oh, no! I don’t want to say toodle-loo to my poodle ’do!”
SPLASH!
Margo and Shivers came up sopping wet, their hair stringy and stuck to their faces. Albee looked pretty much the same.
MARGO AND ALBEE WERE the first ones to make it back to the Groundhog after a very long journey. They were both expert swimmers, and were able to cut through the foamy waves like a hot knife through butter. Shivers wasn’t a very strong swimmer, but he was an expert panicker. He flailed and thrashed his way through the current until he eventually made it to the ship.
He pulled himself up onto the deck and collapsed, huffing with exhaustion.
“Somebody please tell me it’s nap time,” Shivers groaned.
“Nope! It’s map time!” Margo said, standing over him excitedly. “We can finally chart our course for the Cape of Cods now that we have our treasure!”
Shivers took the treasure out of his coat pocket and looked at it with amazement. “Wow! This is the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen! It shimmers with the light of a thousand song and dance times!”
He turned the collar around in his hands. “So this is a dog collar. Having a pet must be really expensive.”
“Don’t you already have a pet?” Margo asked, holding up Albee.
Shivers narrowed his eyes. “Albee’s not my pet, he’s my first mate! Could a pet do what he’s doing right now?”
“What’s he doing?” Margo asked.
“Supervising!” Albee and Shivers shouted at the same time.
“Right. Sorry.” She patted Albee’s bottle, then turned to Shivers. “Now put that collar away. We’ve got to get moving!” She hopped up to the helm and pulled The Pirate Book You’ve Been Looking For out of her big green backpack. She flipped to the page with the map and steered the ship on a hard course for the Cape of Cods.
The sun was beginning to set, turning the clouds in the sky a fiery orange. Shivers ran up to the captain’s deck next to Margo. “How long until we get there?” he asked nervously. “My birthday is almost here!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it in time,” Margo assured him.
A sharp wind swirled around Shivers, sending a stinky breeze into his nostrils. “This ghost must be getting close; his awful stench is getting worse!”
Margo scrunched up her nose. “It is pretty bad.” She turned to the page with Quincy Thomas’s curse. “Remember, the foul odor is just the first sign of the curse. After that, you’re supposed to become as merciless and violent as he was.”
“Does that mean I’ll have to use a sword?” Shivers cringed. “They’re so pointy.”
Margo laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about it just yet.”
As the Groundhog pushed its way farther north, the water became more and more choppy. The waves were so wobbly that Margo had to grip the helm tightly just to steer. Shivers lay on the deck, trying his best not to puke. He needed something to distract him from the angry waves, the darkening sky, and the general sense of doom hanging over his head like a sad sombrero. He picked up the pirate book and leafed through the section on Pirate Zeroes. Each page described a different pirate who had, in one way or another, failed spectacularly at sailing the Seven Seas.
“Look at this guy!” Shivers said, pointing to a picture of a pirate with a big belly and an even bigger beard. “Snack Beard!” he read aloud. “A pirate so consumed by snacking that he had no time for plundering. His beard became so full of crumbs that one day, he was carried away by hungry seagulls, and he was never seen again.”
Shivers shook his head. “Talk about a snack attack.” He flipped to the next page. “Awww!” he squealed, looking at a picture of the cutest pirate he had ever seen. He was small and pudgy with big bright cheeks and a button nose. “Cutie Pie!” Shivers read, showing the picture to Margo. “With the face of an angel and the temper of a two-year-old, Cutie Pie was too stinkin’ cute to be a pirate. After being laughed at one too many times, he threw an enormous and adorable fit. He stomped off angrily and was never seen again.”
Shivers shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe there are so many pirate losers in here.” He turned the page and read on. “Shivers the Pirate.” His jaw nearly dropped to the ground. “WHAT?!”
Margo whipped her head around. “What did you say?”
“It’s me!” Shivers said with dismay, staring at a picture of himself cowering in a corner. He read on, his voice quivering, “Shivers the Pirate is the scarediest pirate to never sail the Seven Seas. Perhaps the biggest pirate zero of all time, he has been totally terrified of everything since the moment he was born. He lives a wimpy, screamy life on his ship that never leaves the sand.” Shivers closed the book sadly. “Biggest pirate zero of all time?” he murmured.
Margo ripped the book from his hands and chucked it down to the dance deck, where it landed with a clatter. “That’s not true!” she shouted, fuming like a fire ant. “You’ve set sail, you’ve battled snails, you’ve even saved my life! You’re not a zero; you’re a hero!”
“No, I’m not. The whole world thinks I’m just a giant scaredy-cat.” Shivers shuddered. The image of a giant cat gave him the creeps.
“It doesn’t matter. Only you can make yourself a hero,” Margo said firmly. “I heard that at a sandwich shop after all the cooks quit.”
Shivers wasn’t convinced. “How could anyone as scared as me be a hero?” he asked, looking around. “I’m afraid of every wave that rocks the boat. I’m afraid of the sun setting and forgetting to come back up. I’m afraid of those two strange pirates standing on the deck. . . .”
Margo’s eyes popped op
en wide. For once, she screamed as loud as Shivers did.
They both bolted to the railing of the captain’s deck and looked down.
“Who are you?!” Margo demanded.
“We’re the Ransom brothers!” shouted the men.
“I’m Handsome Ransom,” said the one on the right. He was tall and lean with thick sculpted hair that sat on top of his perfectly shaped skull. He wore a light blue pirate blouse with billowing sleeves, tight tan trousers, and polished black boots. His smile was as bright and dazzling as a camera flash.
Then the one on the left piped up, “And I’m Footsome Ransom!” Footsome was as hideous as his brother was gorgeous. His head looked like an old olive, saggy and tinged with green. His clothes were crumpled and crusted with crud. He tried to smile, but greasy spit leaked through his charred brown teeth and down his chin.
“We’re twin brothers!” Footsome said. He pushed a loose piece of earwax back into his ear. “But I’m sure you already guessed that.”
Before Margo could say anything, Handsome asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Margo. And this is Shivers the Pirate. We demand to know what you’re doing on our ship!”
“We’re here to take your treasure, of course!” said Handsome. “That’s what pirates do!” He beamed.
Thinking quickly, Margo lied. “We don’t have any treasure!”
“A likely story! Every pirate ship has treasure. We’ll just have to find it,” growled Footsome. He pointed to the top of the mast. “Perhaps it’s hidden in the crow’s nest!”
“Good thinking, brother!” said Handsome. “You climb up and check, while I take a look at this dashing fellow I keep seeing in the waves.”
As Footsome climbed up to the crow’s nest and Handsome leaned over the railing to stare at his own reflection in the water, Shivers and Margo looked at each other in a panic. They had to hide their one piece of treasure, and they had to do it fast.
Shivers stumbled down the captain’s deck stairs and ran inside the ship. He gripped the dog collar tightly as he looked around for a hiding place. He decided to stash it in the first place he could think of: the pantry. He gently stuffed it between two pieces of pita bread, then quietly closed the door.
By the time Shivers got back to the deck, Footsome was shouting from the crow’s nest, “No treasure up here! It’s just full of dirt!”
“Of course it is!” Shivers shouted back. “I use that thing as a giant daisy pot!”
Footsome groaned and pulled himself out of the soil. “Did you find anything down there, brother?” he called.
“Yes, I found a new way to smile and wink at the same time!” said Handsome as he gazed longingly at his own reflection.
Margo swung down from the captain’s deck and planted herself firmly in front of Handsome. “I told you, we don’t have any treasure here!” she insisted.
“Nobody lies to the Ransom brothers!” Footsome sneered as he scrambled down from the crow’s nest. “Come on, let’s turn this place upside down!”
The brothers barged past Shivers and Margo and headed inside the ship.
Shivers followed close—but not too close—behind, crying out, “No! Everything has to stay right-side up!” Then he thought for a second. “Except for my hourglass! That thing could use a good turn!”
Handsome and Footsome stomped into Shivers’s sleeping quarters. They spotted a magnificent wooden chest at the foot of his bed.
“Jackpot!” said Handsome, kicking open the chest. He reached inside greedily, but when he pulled out his fist, it was just full of—“Popcorn?!” he balked. “Why do you keep your popcorn in a treasure chest?!”
Shivers looked at him like he was crazy. “Because it’s the treasure of the food world!” Then Footsome saw a big piggy bank sitting on a shelf. “Aha!” He grabbed it and smashed it to the ground.
But instead of coins, a pile of tiny plastic piggies spilled out. Now it was Footsome who looked at Shivers like he was crazy.
“Well, what do you keep in a piggy bank?” Shivers said.
Exasperated, the two men tore down the hallway. Footsome stuck his head in the shower and thought he found gold—but it was really just mold. He often confused the two.
Handsome sifted through the mop closet but all he found was—well, you know.
There was only one room left unsearched: the kitchen. Handsome and Footsome charged in, fuming with frustration. They turned over the table and toppled the chairs. All Shivers could do was look on in terror and hope that they didn’t think to check in the pantry. But that hope was dashed immediately. As Handsome reached for the pantry doorknob, Shivers knew he had to act fast. Just outside the kitchen, the pirate book was lying open on the deck.
Without thinking, Shivers darted outside, picked up the book, and threw it as hard as he could. It sailed through the air and a single page sliced the tip of Handsome’s nose.
“MY FACE! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!” Handsome wailed. On the very edge of his nose was a teeny tiny papercut. He fell to the floor and pointed up at Shivers, shouting, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!”
Footsome lifted Handsome to his feet. “We need to get you to a doctor. We’ll have to find treasure some other time!”
As Handsome hobbled out onto the deck, he sobbed, “But Quincy Thomas is going to kill us. . . .”
“Quincy Thomas?! You’re cursed, too?” Shivers asked.
“Of course! Look around you! Everyone in this cape is cursed! You think all these other ships are just sailing here for a Cod Party?!” Footsome spat.
Shivers and Margo looked around, and for the first time they noticed that the sea was crowded with pirate ships, all sailing at full speed toward the craggly cape jutting out in the dark distance ahead.
Handsome yelled to Shivers, “If the ghost of Quincy Thomas kills me, my ghost will come and haunt you! And you’ll know it’s me because I’ll be an extremely good-looking ghost!”
“You’ll pay for this, Shivers the Pirate!” Footsome said, pointing a crooked finger at him.
Then the Ransom brothers swung over the railing and disappeared into the night.
Shivers gulped. “Well, that was my least favorite part of the day.”
He ran into the kitchen and opened the pantry. The collar was still tucked inside its bread bed. “I’m just glad they didn’t ask for a pita, butter, and jelly sandwich,” he said.
“Nice going, Shivers!” Margo cheered, patting him on the back. “You sliced him up good!”
All the color drained from his face until he was as pale as a dove’s tail. “Margo! It’s happening! I’ve become as violent and merciless as Quincy Thomas!” He fell to the deck and screamed, “I’m going to be ghost toast!!”
MARGO STEERED THE SHIP into the Cape of Cods, trying not to collide with the fleet of other pirate ships all making their frightened way toward the coastline. The sky had turned from a menacing red to a haunting purple to a totally terrifying, soul-sucking black.
Shivers flopped around the dance deck like a frantic fish.
“Shivers, stop freaking out! We’re almost at the Cape!” Margo said.
“But we’re running out of time! Quincy Thomas is closer than ever! Look at the signs! One: I smell him everywhere I go. Two: I’ve become violent and merciless. And three . . . what’s number three again?”
“There is no number three. You’ll be dead by then,” Margo called down to him.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!”
And with the piercing sound of Shivers’s screeching, Margo decided it was time to finally drop the anchor. She joined Shivers on the dance deck and pulled him up to his feet. “We’re here,” she said.
They looked out over the railing and saw a stretch of sandy beach in front of them. A crescent moon was cresting in the sky, casting an eerie white light across the jagged rocks that lined the cape. Dozens of ships bobbed nearby, while pirate crews hauled crates of treasure onto the shore.
Soon they heard the flutter of flapping wings above t
hem, and a flock of parrots flew toward them.
Shivers covered his head and cried, “AAAAGH! Flying copycats!”
Shivers hated parrots. They had no sense of humor. He once tried to tell a parrot a knock-knock joke but he could never get to the punchline. It was just knock-knocking for days. The parrots landed on the railing and Shivers realized that these were the most terrifying birds he’d ever seen. Their feathers were white, their talons were white, their beaks were white, and even their thick ugly tongues were white.
Shivers gulped in horror. “Ghost parrots!”
One by one, the parrots began to speak.
“Wait until dark,” squawked the first one.
Shivers cocked his head, confused.
Then the second bird screeched, “Go to the haunted graveyard.”
“They’re giving us instructions!” whispered Margo.
“Bury your treasure at the grave of Quincy Thomas the Pirate,” the third one said, fluffing its feathers.
The last one chimed in, “Run away screaming and never return.”
Then the whole flock spoke in an ear-scraping chorus. “Once your treasure has been processed, you will be one-hundred-percent uncursed.”
With that, they lifted back up into the air and flew to the next ship.
Shivers turned to Margo and slapped her on the back. “Well, Margo, you heard the parrots. Have fun! And don’t take too long, my birthday is a few hours away.” He curled up on the dance deck. “If you need to find me, follow the sweet sounds of sleep. Good night!”
Margo scowled. “In your dreams, buddy!”
“That’s exactly my point,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Shivers, you can’t fake this. No one can uncurse you but you,” she said sternly. She picked up Albee’s bottle, swung on her big green backpack, and headed for the shore.
Shivers groaned and sat up. He patted his coat pocket to make sure the dog collar was still there. Then he ran up next to Margo. They waded through the shallow water until they reached the beach. There was a tall wooden sign in the sand that said HAUNTED GRAVEYARD THIS WAY, with an arrow pointing toward a thicket of overgrown trees.
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