The Sea-Quel Page 2
I had got into the habit of morning brain shaking after a teacher told me once when I was at school that my brain was still asleep. I thought about it (obviously after my brain woke up) and realized he might be right. So I started shaking my head every day to make sure my brain was actually awake at important times.
I could hear Frankie sloshing around in his open cooler. “Morning, Frankie,” I said. We had put the cooler right next to the radiator so Frankie could warm up a bit after being stuck in there with melting ice all day yesterday. I looked inside. Frankie was doing fin lifts with a can of cola.
Pradeep rolled over and opened his eyes. “Why am I on the floor? Where are we? Why are you shaking your head?” his look said.
“Obviously, I’m shaking my head to wake up my brain,” my look replied. Out loud I said, “We’re at the lighthouse, remember?”
Suddenly Pradeep jumped up. “We have to check out that eel before Mark gets to it.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “The lighthouse keeper said that if someone doesn’t catch that eel, he’ll have to close the lighthouse. Mark would actually be helping him out.” Then I interrupted myself, “Wait, Mark doesn’t do anything to help anyone who’s not evil. The lighthouse keeper seems pretty creepy, but do you think he’s actually evil?”
“I don’t think so,” Pradeep replied, “but I also don’t think Mark is catching the eel just to help him out. We need to figure out Mark’s plan.”
We put Frankie in one of Pradeep’s sick bags, filled with water from the cooler, and carried him upstairs to Mark’s room. We slowly creaked open the heavy wooden door and looked inside.
No Mark.
“Now we need to see if he left any clues,” Pradeep said. He went over to Mark’s suitcase and started searching in there. I went over to the table. Science goggles, earbuds, Evil Scientists-R-Us catalog. I picked it up and flicked to a page called “Ten Must-Have Evil Scientist Accessories.” There at number one were the Evil Scientist hypnotic-stare-repellent contact lenses.
“I think I found something,” called Pradeep, holding up Mark’s white Evil Scientist coat and chemistry set. “Funny packing for a vacation!”
“Well, we did bring a fish,” I replied.
Just then Frankie tipped the sick bag of water out onto Mark’s desk. I grabbed a towel from the end of the bed. Frankie was flipping around on top of a piece of paper with something drawn on it.
Pradeep grabbed the sick bag and ran out to the bathroom to refill it while I mopped up the spill. Pradeep was just about to scoop Frankie up to put him in the bag when we both noticed Frankie had stopped flopping around. Not in a “can’t breathe” way, but in an “I’m reading the piece of paper” kind of way.
When did he learn how to do that?
CHAPTER 6
EVIL EQUATIONS AND SINISTER SKETCHES
Pradeep and I bent over the paper on Mark’s desk. It was a diagram of some kind. There was a squiggly worm thing on one side of the paper and the lighthouse being hit by a big bolt of lightning on the opposite side. Mark had written Mwhahahaha coming out of the mouth of a little character dressed in a white Evil Scientist coat at the bottom of the page.
An arrow pointing to the squiggly thing had something else written above it, but it was too smudged to read from the water.
Pradeep plopped Frankie back into the water-filled sick bag as I spoke. “I don’t know exactly what he’s planning, but I’m pretty sure that, as usual, it’s evil. And that squiggly worm thing is probably…” I looked at Pradeep.
“The evil eel!” we said together. “We’ve gotta stop him.”
We heard a motor putt-putting outside. We looked out the open window to see Mark heading out into the bay in the lighthouse motorboat.
“He’s already out there!” I yelled to Pradeep. “Come on! Quick!”
We ran down the spiral stairs of the lighthouse, Frankie splashing against the sides of the sick bag. As we rounded the last corner, we ran straight into the lighthouse keeper, nearly knocking him over.
“No running in the lighthouse!” he shouted. “What in Eel Bay are you up to?”
He stared hard at both of us. Then his eyes moved to the sick bag in Pradeep’s hands. “Seasick in a lighthouse? I’ve never heard of a landlubber so bad in all my years! Don’t let me stop you.” He motioned for us to pass him so Pradeep could get outside quickly.
Result! I knew that Pradeep’s motion sickness would save the day one day.
Well, OK, I didn’t actually know that, but it’s pretty cool that it did.
We headed straight to the living room. The dads were both there with cups of coffee next to them, texting and talking on their smartphones. “Looks like this is the only room in the house where there’s any signal, boys,” Dad said. “Some important work messages came in last night. I just need to sort a few things out.”
“My boss has hit the roof over a misallocated blah, blah, blah,” Pradeep’s dad said.
They had gone into business mode and I had tuned out. My brain translates lots of things—jelly-bean code, flag code, even Scooby-Doo’s mumbling—but not business talk.
“How about we go out on one of the boats after lunch?” Dad said.
“Why don’t you two go down to the beach for now and see who can find the biggest shell?” Pradeep’s dad suggested. Pradeep gave him the standard “I am not a three-year-old girl” look. “Or the biggest, scariest crab?” his dad added.
“You can even try fishing from the beach if you want,” Dad said. The sick bag started shaking again.
Pradeep pretended it was him. “Excuse me, I gotta go!” he yelled as he dashed out with the bag.
“OK, Dad, we’ll hit the beach,” I said. “Hey, where’s Sami?”
“She’s sleeping late this morning,” said Pradeep’s dad. “The trip must have tired her out.”
I ran outside and met Pradeep. “OK, we’re good to go. Sami is asleep and the dads are plugged into their phones for the next couple of hours.”
Pradeep walked over to the jetty, where a second boat was tied up. “Good,” he said, “’cause look what I found. We can use this rowboat to follow Mark.”
Now you might be thinking this isn’t a great plan. Surely:
Pradeep + boat = lots of throwing up.
But it’s weird—Pradeep gets sick in cars, buses, airplanes, roller coasters, and pretty much everything that moves, but the one place Pradeep doesn’t get seasick is on the sea.
CHAPTER 7
NOT-SO-SMOOTH SAILING
Pradeep and I started to untie the boat. I brushed some seaweed off the side. “It’s called A Vision of Velma,” I said, reading the name that was painted there in swirly writing. “Hey, have you ever rowed a real boat before?”
“No, but how hard can it be?” Pradeep answered.
We slipped on some life jackets and put Frankie’s sick bag in the bottom of the boat. Half an hour and four super-sore arms later I said, “Really, really hard.”
We could see Mark up ahead of us, but it seemed to take ages to get close. He was in a motorboat after all, and we were rowing.
Finally we got close enough to read the name on the side of Mark’s boat. Daphne’s Delight, it read in slanted writing. Mark had his back to us and was pulling hard on a long fishing rod, trying to reel something in.
“Do you think he caught the…” I started, but before I could finish, my question was answered by a mega-long eel leaping into the air alongside Mark’s boat.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!” Pradeep and I both squealed. Now, I’m not a kid who squeals on a regular basis. Pradeep isn’t either. I don’t squeal at mice or spiders or scary movies or disgusting unidentifiable things stuck to the bottom of my sneaker. But I think that squealing when a massive eel jumps out of the water near you is fair enough. I dare you not to squeal if it happens to you!
Amazingly, Mark kept ahold of the fishing rod— but the motorboat rocked hard from side to side. Then we heard a sound that none of us expected. Not Mark,
not me, and especially not Pradeep.
“Naughty swishy eel!” a small voice shouted from Mark’s boat.
We looked over to see Sami climbing out from under a tarpaulin in the bottom of Daphne’s Delight. “I want to see sea. Not play with naughty eel!” she shouted as she stood up.
Mark nearly dropped the fishing rod. “Little moron?” he said, twisting around. “Were you hiding under there the whole time?”
Then he noticed me and Pradeep in the rowboat. “What is this? A moron-family outing?” he yelled.
Sami giggled and started singing, “Sami went to sea, sea, sea to see what she could see, see, see…”
At that moment the eel pulled hard on the line and it jerked the boat.
Sami wobbled back and forth for a moment, before a final rock of the boat sent her tumbling into the water.
CHAPTER 8
TUMBLING TODDLER TERROR
Mark looked too stunned to move.
“Sami!” Pradeep screamed and sprang into action. He grabbed a spare life jacket from the bottom of our boat and held it tight in his hand.
“Pradeep, wait! I’ll get help!” I shouted.
“There’s no time,” he said, handing me his glasses. “I’m a good swimmer. I’m coming, Sami!” he yelled as he leaped into the choppy water.
The eel looked as if it was in pain. The hook hung out of its mouth and its eyes glared at Mark. It reared up and splashed down again and again, sending wave after wave of water sloshing into both boats. If it kept on doing that, we’d all sink!
“Let go, Mark!” I yelled.
Pradeep had reached Sami and had her hanging on to the life jacket. He dragged her over to our boat and shoved her up so she could reach the side. I hauled her in and she slumped down into the well of the boat next to Frankie. She was soggy and shaken, but at least she was safe!
I held my hand over the side to help pull Pradeep in too.
That’s when I saw a fin, then another fin, and then the tail. It whacked against the side of A Vision of Velma, knocking me over and shoving the boat out of Pradeep’s reach. When I scrambled back to my feet, I could see that the evil eel was surrounding Pradeep.
“Look out!” I yelled.
Suddenly I saw a flash of orange fins and green eyes swoosh past me.
Frankie had leaped out of his bag and into the water. His eyes were pulsing with green zombie power as he flung himself toward Pradeep.
Sami stood up in our boat next to me. All I kept thinking was, “Come on, Frankie. Come on!”
Mark yanked on the fishing line again, which seemed to make the eel even more angry. It tightened its grip around Pradeep as he tried to swim back to our boat.
“Help!” Pradeep gasped as he struggled to keep his face above the water.
“Maybe the eel will go away if you just let go!” I screamed at Mark.
But Mark kept hold of the fishing rod. “Are you nuts, moron? If I let go, then the eel can bite him too!”
The eel’s head reared out of the water just by Pradeep. Sami clutched my hand.
The creature thrashed back and forth wildly, trying to loosen the hook stuck in its mouth.
Then I saw Frankie leap out of the water, right between Pradeep and the eel. Frankie’s eyes were blazing green. For a second the eel seemed stunned by Frankie’s zombie stare. Frankie almost seemed to hover in midair—you know, like ninjas do in fight scenes in those old kung fu movies.
The eel’s eyes crossed and he looked at the boat with one eye and up Pradeep’s left nostril with the other. Frankie had done it—he had hypnotized the eel! It loosened its coils and Pradeep pulled free. Just as he slipped out of its grip, the eel shook its head hard, like it was trying to wake up its brain and shake off Frankie’s stare. Then it plunged back into the water with Frankie close behind.
“Swim, Pradeep! Swim!” I urged him. He quickly made it to the boat, and we pulled him inside. Sami clung to the leg of his soggy jeans and wouldn’t let go. Pradeep shoved on his glasses and peered over the side, looking for Frankie.
Mark called, “Get out of here, morons! Row back to shore and leave the eel to me!”
“Where swishy fishy?” Sami shouted to Mark.
“That moron fish is eel food!” Mark yelled back. “If the eel hasn’t eaten him already, I’ll feed him to it myself.”
CHAPTER 9
EEL BE COMING TO GET YOU
Mark got as far as the “Mwha” of his evil laugh when he was cut short by the evil eel leaping across the front of his boat. Then I saw a green glow approaching. Frankie was alive! My zombie goldfish jumped out of the water and managed to bash Mark with his tail fin as he passed. Mark dropped the rod as he tried to swat at Frankie. Frankie splashed back into the water, right into the waiting jaws of the eel! Its powerful mouth tried to clamp down on him, but Frankie pushed back just as hard—holding himself straight as a rod and propping open the evil eel’s jaws.
“Naughty eel!” Sami shouted. “Let go, swishy fishy!”
Either the eel didn’t care, didn’t understand English, or didn’t think she was talking to him, so it didn’t stop trying to munch Frankie. Frankie’s green eyes were bulging even more than normal as he strained to keep the eel’s mouth from snapping shut.
“We’ve got to do something!” Pradeep yelled.
Then I spotted the sick bag still full of water in the bottom of our boat. I crumpled down the top of it so it was sealed up tight. One water bomb, ready to go. Then I pulled back my arm, ready to throw.
Now, I’m not the best pitcher in the world. My baseball career ended badly in third grade after a ball I threw hit the coach somewhere very painful between his knees and his middle. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but he was standing over by the garbage cans at the time, nowhere near home plate.
The water bomb flew into the air and headed toward Mark’s boat just as he grabbed his floating fishing rod out of the sea. The swishing rod flicked the water bomb back toward us, but luckily, Pradeep was ready with one of the oars. He batted the water bomb back toward the eel and hit it square on its head.
The evil eel dropped Frankie and turned toward us. In less than a second Frankie had leaped in the air and landed on the giant eel’s nose. He stared a hard zombie stare right into its eyes. At the same time, Mark yanked hard on the fishing rod, pulling on the hook, which was still stuck in the evil eel’s mouth. The eel reared up in the water, trying to shake off both Frankie and Mark, but it was too late—Frankie had done it again! The zombified eel flopped down onto Mark’s boat with a thud. As it fell, its gigantic tail flipped out of the water and struck Frankie like a tennis ball being swatted by a whale. He flew over the waves, heading straight toward a group of rocks farther out to sea.
“Frankie!” I shouted. He was going to land on the rocks. What if he couldn’t get back into the water? He’d die! “Quick, Mark, dump the eel and take us out there to get Frankie. You can get us there faster in your motorboat!” I yelled.
Mark looked at the giant eel draped across his boat. “And why would I do that? I’ve got what I came for,” he said as he powered up the engine. “You guys better start rowing Velma back. It looks like rain.”
He turned Daphne’s Delight and headed back to shore—the eel lying over the bow of his boat with its head and tail dangling in the water.
“We’ll get Frankie ourselves,” I said.
Pradeep and I each grabbed an oar and rowed toward where we thought Frankie must have landed, but when we got to the rocks, there was no sign of him. Then we rowed around and tried to spot the green glow of his eyes under the waves.
Drops of rain started to fall on our faces as Sami snuffled, “No swimming now, fishy. Come back!” She shivered in her wet clothes and sneezed.
“We have to get Sami back to the lighthouse,” Pradeep said. “She’ll get sick if she stays out much longer.”
I nodded. We wrapped my jacket around her shoulders and grabbed the oars again.
None of us said anything all the way b
ack to shore.
CHAPTER 10
LIKE A FISH OUTTA WATER
When we got back to the jetty, there was no sign of Mark or Daphne’s Delight anywhere. We tied up the rowboat and Pradeep gave Sami a piggyback up to the house.
Of course the dads shouted at us when they saw that Sami was wet and sneezing. Until we reminded them that they thought she was still asleep. Then the parent guilt kicked in. Dads get that a lot when they think they are going to be told off by moms for what the kids got up to while they were with the dads.
We told them that we were playing on the shore with Sami when we all got splashed by a really big wave, but that we didn’t bring her back right away because she was having so much fun. Amazingly, they seemed to believe us, even though Sami’s face looked like she had never had fun in her life.
“Swishy fishy gone,” she mumbled as her dad carried her upstairs to dry off and warm up.
“Now let’s get some lunch for you two,” my dad said to me and Pradeep, wrapping beach towels around our shoulders.
As he put bowls of soup down in front of us, neither of us felt much like eating.
I kept picturing Frankie swimming around in the soup bowl.
I even tried a quick brain shake to get rid of the picture in my head, but it didn’t make me any less sad. I decided to concentrate on stopping Mark’s evil plan instead. It’s what Frankie would have wanted us to do.
I gave Pradeep a look that said, “We have to stop Mark from doing whatever he is going to do with the evil eel, whether we have Frankie to help us or not.”
Pradeep nodded as he pushed his soup away.
“Can we be excused, please? I don’t feel hungry,” he said to my dad.
“Of course. You both have a rest and we’ll do something nice when Sami gets up from her nap,” he said. Then he gave Pradeep his “Chin up, sport, it’s not that bad!” look.
Pradeep looked over at me with his “Did your dad just ask me if I wanted yummy Spam for dinner?” look.