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The Pirate Book You've Been Looking For

Page 8

by Annabeth Bondor-Stone


  “Now, Shivers!” said Margo.

  Shivers popped the top off of Albee’s bottle. “You ready, buddy?”

  “I was born ready,” Albee said.

  Shivers poured Albee into his hand, thrust him through the bars of the crib, and attached him to the nozzle of the helium machine faster than Cutie Pie could say “WAH!”

  Albee blew up to his full blowfish size, just like he had on the trash barge. But this time, he was filled with floaty helium that lifted him straight to the ceiling, where the key to the crib was still suspended on a balloon string. Albee reached out a spiky fin and popped the balloon. The key fell straight down and into Margo’s hand. She opened the lock and pushed away the bars above her. Then she and Shivers leaped out of the crib like two really big bouncing babies.

  “Grab them!” Cutie Pie wailed.

  Butterfingers lunged at Margo, but she spun around, sending him careening into the wall, where he ended up plastered against a picture of a unicorn.

  All the spinning and screaming and squawking had Whichway so mixed up he didn’t know which “them” to grab, so he just grabbed Cutie Pie and squeezed tightly. “Got ’em!” he said.

  Cutie Pie tried to shake Whichway off of him, but then he froze in horror when he saw Shivers standing next to the parrot cage. “You wouldn’t dare. You’re a coward! You’re a nobody! You’re a zero!”

  “No, I’m not!” said Shivers. He remembered what Margo had said, that only he could make himself a hero. And that’s exactly what he did.

  He wrapped his fingers around the door of the birdcage and flung it open. The entire flock of parrots flooded the room, squawking, “PIRATE GHOSTS AREN’T REAL! IT WAS ALL A BIG TRICK!” They flapped their white wings all the way out the broken window, carrying their message out to the cape.

  “WAAAAH!” Cutie Pie bellowed.

  Knowing his work was done, Albee blew the helium out in one big breath. He let out a high-pitched “HEEEEE” as he deflated and drifted to the ground, where Shivers caught him and dropped him safely back into his bottle.

  Cutie Pie’s nostrils flared with rage. His head turned pink so it matched his plump little tongue. An angry vein bulged from his forehead as he let out a furious scream.

  SHIVERS, MARGO, AND ALBEE bolted out of the cottage and headed straight for the beach. Cutie Pie and Whichway chased after them—Butterfingers tried, but he tripped over the lawn gnomes and had to give up. Shivers and Margo ran through the forest, darting around the branches. Soon the forest got so dense with trees that it was almost impossible to figure out where to go. They could hear Whichway and Cutie Pie’s footsteps getting closer.

  “Where do we go?” asked Shivers.

  “NORTH!” Margo shouted, loud enough so she knew Whichway would hear her.

  “Aha!” said Whichway, and he climbed straight to the top of a pine tree. Now only Cutie Pie was left chasing them.

  Margo led Shivers and Albee along the edge of the forest, hoping that they would soon see something familiar. Finally she spotted the Hill of Heads. They sprinted for it as fast as they could. When they reached the edge, they saw Handsome and Footsome climbing up. They were leading a pack of haggard-looking pirates.

  “Shivers the Pirate!” Handsome shouted. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

  Shivers and Margo came to a screeching halt.

  “Oh no!” Shivers said nervously. “They didn’t get the message!”

  Footsome marched right up to Shivers, his flaky, cracked teeth edging into a smile.

  Shivers gripped Albee’s bottle and braced himself for the worst. With Cutie Pie behind him and Footsome in front of him, there was nowhere to run.

  Footsome reached into the pocket of his dirt-crusted coat. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he pulled out the diamond-studded dog collar. “You dropped this,” he grunted.

  Shivers shed the dread from his face and smacked on a big old smile. “So you’re not going to chop off my head?”

  “No!” said Handsome, sidling up next to Footsome. “Didn’t you hear the great news? Pirate ghosts aren’t real! It was all a big trick! Thank goodness those brilliant parrots figured that out.”

  Shivers and Albee gave each other a knowing glance.

  “Sorry about the whole chopping-off-your-head thing,” said Handsome.

  “Yes,” Footsome agreed. “People do crazy things when they think they’re going to get eaten by a ghost.”

  Handsome shook Shivers’s hand. Footsome shook Shivers’s foot. It was odd.

  “Now all we have to do is find the son of a sewer rat who tricked us and get our treasure back!” growled Footsome.

  “I think we can help you with that,” said Margo.

  Just then, the sun peeked over the horizon, zipping a bright morning light across the Cape of Cods. Everyone began to hear the huffing and puffing of little baby lungs and the pitter-patter of pajamaed feet reaching the top of the hill.

  “Meet the real ghost of Quincy Thomas the Pirate,” said Shivers as Cutie Pie stepped into view.

  The sunlight sparkled on his bouncy blond curls. His cheeks were rosy red from running and ranting. And a spot of morning dew dotted the tip of his button nose.

  Cutie’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the pirate horde. He looked around nervously, not knowing what to do or where to run. So he decided to scare them one last time. “Boo!”

  This set off the loudest explosion of pirate laughter in the history of the world. They howled and whooped. They snickered and snorted. They cackled until their ribs crackled. All the while pointing right at Cutie.

  “Stop it!” Cutie demanded, throwing his fists in the air and stomping around. “Stop laughing or I’ll chop off all of your heads!”

  This just made the pirates laugh even harder. They howled with hilarity. They giggled so hard, they were doubled over with delight—one guy was even tripled over. Tears of laughter spilled from their eyes and pooled into puddles on the ground.

  Cutie Pie jammed his plump little fingers into his ears to try to silence the laughter. But if there’s one thing everyone knows about pirates (besides the fact that they smell bad and are mercilessly violent), it’s that they’re really, really loud. There was no escaping the sound.

  “Well, Cutie Pie, I guess your jig is up,” said Shivers. “But my jig has just begun!” He launched into a happy little tap dance.

  Cutie Pie’s face turned as purple as a grape-flavored Popsicle.

  “Your head is mine, Shivers the Pirate!”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver dagger. Or maybe it was an adorable little sword. Either way, it was very, very sharp. He held it above his head and charged straight at Shivers.

  Shivers screamed a scream he was sure would be his last.

  The dagger was just inches away from dividing Shivers in two when, suddenly, Cutie Pie’s feet slid on the puddle of pirate tears. In the same slippery way that Quincy Thomas had met his demise, Cutie fell over the edge of the Hill of Heads.

  He flapped his arms wildly like a chicken trying to fly, but it was too late. He tumbled down the hill, bounced past the Path of Lost Souls, and finally fell straight into the Bottomless Pit of Despair.

  For a moment, everything was quiet. Then there was a soft thud.

  “I guess it’s not bottomless after all,” said Shivers.

  The throng of pirates burst into happy cheers.

  “He’s gone!” said one of the pirates.

  “We’ll never be tricked by a ghost again!” said another.

  “AAAGH! Who said ghost?!” said a third.

  Shivers and Margo pointed the pirates toward the cottage, where they could find Cutie Pie’s collection of stolen treasure—and his rocking horse, if anyone wanted it. The pirates all took off down the hill, clinking and clanking their swords with excitement.

  Handsome and Footsome lingered behind.

  “Thank you, Shivers the Pirate,” said Handsome, the morning sun bouncing off his perfectly chiseled cheek dimp
les. “Are you coming to get your share of the treasure?”

  “The only thing I need is my bunny slippers,” Shivers said, looking at the tattered lunch bags on his feet. “They’re still stuck on the path.”

  “All of our shoes are stuck on the path. That cute little pirate was trying to steal our treasure and our footwear,” said Footsome, spit spraying from his mouth. “Though I suppose it’s nice for my toes to get some fresh air.”

  Without thinking, Shivers looked down at Footsome’s bare feet. And he saw something very strange. There were no nails. With a combination of curiosity and caution he asked, “Where are your toenails?”

  Footsome smiled and tapped the gnarled set of teeth in his mouth. “Right here!”

  When they got back to the Groundhog, Margo set sail for New Jersey Beach and Shivers announced that he was seven naps behind schedule. He wrapped himself in his marshmallow comforter and promptly fell asleep, his feet tucked snugly into his bunny slippers. He dreamed of s’mores and snored the whole way home.

  Margo stood at the helm, the morning waves whisking sea salt onto her ponytail. Albee was in his bottle next to her, swimming around and supervising. It made Margo wonder: Do fish ever sleep? And if so, is it on a water bed?

  It wasn’t long before Shivers woke up to the familiar sounds of waves lapping against the sandy shore and kids complaining as they stood in a long line for ice cream. He was home. He sat up smiling. It was his birthday. He hadn’t been eaten by a ghost. And there was a whole ham waiting for him in the fridge.

  Suddenly, his bedroom door burst open.

  “SURPRISE!”

  Shivers shouted, diving for cover under the covers.

  “I told you that was a bad idea,” said Bob.

  His parents, Brock, Margo, and Albee crowded into his bedroom. They were throwing pirate confetti (which was really just sand) and singing “Happy Birthday” (which was really just shouting).

  “Come see your present, baby brother!” said Brock.

  Brock yanked Shivers out of bed, hoisted him over his head, and hauled him down the hall, through the kitchen, and out onto the dance deck. Which was now officially a song and dance deck, because of the magnificent grand piano parked in the middle of it.

  “My piano!” Shivers shouted, his eyes shining with excitement. He did a little dance over to it, then struck a chord on the keys. “Hey, this thing feels familiar!”

  “We plundered it from a yacht!” said Tilda.

  “But they seemed happy to get rid of it,” said Bob. “They said something about ‘grubby little kid hands’ touching it.”

  Shivers stretched out his arms and smashed all the keys at once. “It’s perfect.” He sighed.

  Margo tapped him on the shoulder. “I got you something, too.”

  She handed him a package wrapped entirely in empty chip bags. “It’s the only wrapping paper I had. Plus, I got super hungry on the trip back.”

  Shivers immediately tore it open and was puzzled to see The Pirate Book You’ve Been Looking For. His forehead crinkled with worry. “Don’t tell me I’m cursed again!”

  “Nope!” Margo said.

  She opened the book to the section on Pirate Heroes. There, on the very first page, was Shivers.

  She looked at him with a big smile. “I thought, if this is a book of pirate history, then it had better be true.”

  Excerpt from Shivers!: The Pirate Who’s More Terrified Than Ever

  SNAP!

  Shivers the Pirate secured the goggles to his head. The downpour had already begun. He zipped up his wetsuit so his entire body was covered. Then he put on a pair of bright yellow dishwashing gloves and wrapped rubber bands around his wrists so not a single water droplet would seep in.

  “In an emergency like this, it’s always good to have extra protection on hand . . . and on foot!” he declared. He swapped out his usual bunny slippers for a pair of bunny flippers. As he took a squeaky step forward, fear rattled him like a tambourine. He knew what he had to do, but he really wished he had to don’t.

  Shivers’s first mate, Albee, was supervising in his fishbowl just a few feet away. Albee knew that this could only end in disaster, but as a fish, there’s only so much you can do. His only hope was that Shivers didn’t try to use him as a flotation device.

  Shivers turned to Albee and grimaced. “If I don’t make it, just remember this: your fish flakes are in the cabinet. Don’t eat too many at once. And never leave the stove on. In fact, don’t even go near the stove.” He stared straight into Albee’s big fishy eyeballs. “Use the microwave instead!”

  Shivers grabbed his snorkel, crammed it into his mouth, and leaped across the great divide. Sheets of rain pelted his goggles, blurring his sight. His sopping wet hair matted to his face. The rush of water was so strong it even seeped through his bunny flippers and tickled his toes. This was going worse than expected.

  The water slapped violently against the ground. He stuck his fingers in his ears to protect against the sound, but also to make sure the water didn’t wiggle its way into his head—Shivers had always been deathly afraid of getting brainwashed.

  Heavy droplets battered his scrawny legs until he was weak in the knees. Pressure swelled inside of him like a balloon, until the only thing he could do was burst. He spat out the snorkel and screamed.

  “AAAAAAAAAGHHH!”

  But as soon as the scream started, it was snuffed out by a wave of water that funneled through Shivers’s wide-open mouth. He coughed and stumbled, his flippers slipping underneath him. Shivers came crashing down with a splash as the rain pelted him harder than ever before.

  “I’m drowning!” he wailed, thrashing left and splashing right.

  “Pull yourself together!” Albee said, shaking his head—but because he’s a fish, he was really shaking his whole body.

  Then, through the misty rain, Shivers spotted his only hope for survival. He flipped onto his belly and stretched out his arm until his fingers touched a cold, metal lever. With his last ounce of strength, he gripped it as tightly as he could and pulled.

  The water stopped.

  Shivers hoisted himself out of the bathtub and bellowed, “I HATE TAKING SHOWERS!”

  He threw on a fresh pair of pantaloons, his velvet pirate coat, and his feathered pirate cap. He stuffed his feet into his bunny slippers and picked up Albee’s fishbowl. He stumbled down the hallway and collapsed on the kitchen floor in a heap.

  “That was worse than I could have ever imagined,” he cried.

  “Well, you sure smell a whole lot better!” Standing above Shivers was his best friend, Margo Clomps’n’Stomps. She stared down at him with her big green eyes, her hands on her hips. As usual, she had a backpack on her back, a ponytail on her head, and a smile as wide as a mile.

  “Why did you make me do that?” Shivers groaned.

  “Shivers, yesterday for your birthday you ate six gallons of ice cream and a whole ham! You were covered in so much sugar and ham juice you smelled like a pig dipped in a Pixie Stix!”

  Shivers sighed. Margo had a point. Sleeping in ham juice had been unpleasant. He dragged himself up from the floor and narrowed his eyes at her. “Fine. But I’m never taking a shower again!”

  Margo laughed and shook her head.

  Shivers opened his refrigerator. Now that the worst part of the day was surely over, he could eat some breakfast in peace. He mixed a banana and some pudding together in a big bowl. Banana pudding was his favorite new food. It was so soft, he almost wanted to lay his head down in it and fall asleep—but then he’d have to take another shower. So instead, he plunged in his spoon and took a bite.

  “Mmm . . . mushy,” he grinned.

  Margo sat down at the table across from him. That’s when he saw the crackling flame of adventure flare in her eyes. “Oh, no.” Shivers waggled his finger. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s got my stomach sinking. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told my family: I’m not going on any adventures today!”


  Margo looked out the porthole and noticed that Shivers’s parents’ ship, The Plunderer, wasn’t bobbing out at sea as usual. “Where did your family go?”

  “Beats me! They left on a pirate mission early this morning. They said it was guaranteed to make me seasick, so I politely declined. Actually, I screamed and hid under my covers. I’m sure they’ll be back by sunset as usual, and until then, I’m staying right here.”

  “Come on, Shivers!” Margo slapped her palms on the table. “You can’t just sit there eating pudding all day!”

  “Wanna bet?” Shivers said, cramming another spoonful in his mouth.

  Margo pointed out the porthole at the open ocean. “But there’s a whole world of excitement out there just waiting for us!”

  “Maybe it’s waiting for someone else,” Shivers tried. “Hey, I’ve got an idea—let’s play hide-and-seek! You go seek out adventure, and I’ll hide here under this table. Just make sure to be back by sunset. I need someone to help me turn on my night-lights.”

  “But we’re on a pirate ship! Let’s set sail! Hit the high seas!” Margo was always itching for an exciting quest.

  Shivers held up his hand. “First of all, I never hit anything. What if it hits back? Secondly, this pirate ship is designed specifically not to go on adventures. It’s supposed to be safe, secure, and most importantly, extremely cozy. It’s called the Groundhog, remember? And that’s where it’s going to stay: on the ground. Right here in the middle of New Jersey Beach, the safest place in the entire—AAAAAGGHHHH!!!”

  At that moment, a heavy metal hook smashed through the porthole and landed on Shivers’s kitchen floor. It was attached to a thick, mossy rope.

  “MARGO!” Shivers screamed, leaping under the table. “What’s going on?!”

  “Only one way to find out,” she said, grabbing his hand.

  They ran outside to the deck and saw something so terrifying that even the pudding in Shivers’s belly panicked.

 

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