Will Wilder #2

by Raymond Arroyo

  “Come, my children, come.” He wore a glossy white collarless suit that made him look like a Middle Eastern angel. His arms opened wide. “Isn’t it good that the Karnak Center is here for you? Isn’t it?”

  Hundreds of people from the neighborhood who had congregated on the front and side lawn of the Karnak Center applauded. Many stared in amazement at the wrathful frogs that hopped right up to the curb of Dura Street and occupied the de Plancy Cemetery, but stopped at the border of the Karnak land.

  One heavyset man and his friend stomped over the undulating black street to find safe harbor on the pristine grass of Karnak. The big man’s boat shoes and the bottom of his overalls were stained with red-and-black goo. “Answer me something, Mr. Sab?” the man asked. “How come those frogs are all over my yard, all over town, but not up on your property?”

  Sab descended the stairs of the Center and approached the fellow, placing two hands on his thick shoulders. “It is the positive energy holding them back. It is the regenerative forces we curate and extend from here that protects. What is your name, my friend?”

  The hefty man pulled the toothpick from the side of his mouth. “Mikey, sir. This here’s my friend Harry.” He indicated an ashen, lanky man in a faded seersucker suit at his side.

  “I am glad you are here.” Sab laid a thin hand on Harry’s shoulder as well. “Tomorrow I want you to come back. The protection of the Karnak Center can be yours every day. I want you never to lose the safety you are feeling now. Will you return tomorrow?”

  Harry stared at him warily, but Mikey, caught in the moment, nodded. “I will come back, sir. We will.”

  “Good. I expect all of you back here tomorrow for the grand opening. It will be a life-changing event for us all. Tell your friends.” Sab turned to the crowd, touching the faces of children and embracing the elderly as he walked toward the front door. “Isn’t it sad that the local government, the politicians, the religious leaders, everyone seems powerless to help you in this moment? But Pothinus told you trials were coming. Did I not? Let us hope these horrible frogs will disperse. But in the meanwhile, take your ease. You will be safe here at Karnak. We have some refreshments for you. Stay as long as you like.”

  Sab snapped his fingers at Sarsour, who on his command carried a tray of drinks through the crowd. The people applauded and peppered the air with cries of gratitude.

  Harry Johnson turned to his friend. “Mikey, unless that bearded fella’s going to teach us to fly, how in the blazes are we going to get home?” He poked a finger at the croaking mass just three feet away that seemed to be held back by some invisible wall.

  Between the slats of the front window, Will peered at Aunt Lucille on the porch of her home as she continued to cut down the frogs at an astounding pace. In the wake of her ray’s passing, a smoky mist lingered at the river’s edge. But as soon as it cleared, another battalion of frogs leapt forward.

  Leo and Marin sat tensely with their parents on a curvy Victorian sofa. The SPLUT, SPLUT, SPLUT noises came from all sides of the living room. Leo raised his voice to say, “I have a question: Can I get a jar from the kitchen to catch a few frogs? Remember, when Wally the Turtle died, you told me I could get another pet. I want a frog.”

  Deborah rubbed his knee. “Let’s pick pets another day. I don’t think these frogs are ready to be domesticated.”

  “But, Mommy, I’ve never seen frogs like those ones,” Marin said, her eyes huge. “If Leo gets a boy, can I have a girl frog?”

  “It’s my idea, Marin,” Leo protested, his full lips turning down. “She cannot have a frog, Mom!”

  An exhausted Aunt Lucille burst into the room, slamming the door behind her. Her face was moist. “There are too many of them. This is not an isolated event. The frogs are pouring out all along the river.” Lucille bolted suddenly to a cabinet in the corner of the living room. She pulled out two round silver containers that looked like fancy ice buckets.

  Will joined her in the corner. “I need to see the Book of Prophecy now!”

  “Can we put down the frog invasion first?”

  Will stamped his foot and sighed. “What is that?” he asked, eyeing the silver containers.

  “Exorcized salt. It’s blessed. I have to spread it outside to keep these croaking devils away from the house.”

  “Aunt Lucille,” Leo called out, eyeing the silver containers, “can I use one of them to catch a frog?”

  “Not now, dear. You wouldn’t want to catch one of these stinky things,” she said, giving him a peck on the head.

  Will’s cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Cami:

  We’re safe at the museum. Mr. Shen rescued us from Karnak Center. Lots to tell you about Bobbit!!! Where r u?

  Will texted her back:

  Stay put. Don’t leave museum. Frogs everywhere down here. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  He had barely hit SEND when the back door of the living room flew open, startling everybody.

  Abbot Athanasius bounded in as if escaping a battlefield. He shut the door with the back of his shoulder, nearly crashing into Will. “William, I’m glad you’re here.”

  At his side, he clutched a souped-up water gun, identical to the one in Lucille’s ballroom. He greeted the rest of the Wilder family and then conferred with Lucille.

  “I barely made it across your yard. Thank goodness for Philip’s pressure washer here.” He patted the side of the gun and laid it on the end table. “Nasty little things, those croakers. Unless we intervene, what’s next, Lucille?”

  “Gnats I’d expect,” she said nonchalantly, pushing the pair of silver containers on him.

  “But why? Why would the Sinestri want to use Moses’s staff to torture a whole populace?” Athanasius’s eyes searched the air. “These plagues are part of their plan. I just can’t imagine what that plan is.”

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Abbot,” Lucille said, pushing back her sleeves again. “But first I need to surround the house with this salt—if you could help me? I’ll clear a path with my illuminating beam. You spill the salt behind me.”

  Across the room, Dan Wilder was transfixed by his cell phone. “I have to go to city hall. You all…stay…stay here.” He kissed Deborah and hugged the children. “Willy Stout and one of his officers are picking me up in an SUV. He says it’s a mess out there. Accidents and…frogs. Don’t drive, Deb.”

  There was a pounding on the back door. Through the glass, Dan could see Sheriff Stout carrying a bloodied shovel.

  “Darned things came out of nowhere,” the sheriff said, sticking his head in the door. “How y’all doin? Come on, Dan, I’ll get ahead a’ you and scoop ’em out of the way so we can make it to the vehicle. Hope you’re not wearing your good shoes.” He pinched the brim of his hat as a goodbye and started shoveling a path through the yard. Dan followed him out.

  Through the window, Will watched the two men wade slowly into the sea of black frogs. As they progressed, the wriggling black creatures closed ranks behind them.

  “It seems rather fantastical, doesn’t it?” Abbot Athanasius quietly asked Will, standing behind him.

  “It’s crazy. I need to go see my friends and—”

  “That would be unwise. You have to remain close to Peniel and you should restrict your conversations to your family and the Brethren only.”

  “One of the Brethren took the staff.” Will grimaced. “One of them caused all of this.”

  Athanasius inhaled, tugging at his beard with two fingers. “We will discover who took the staff in time, William. This is about your safety. There are no frogs at Peniel; there was no blood in the water there. It is hallowed ground. The Sinestri’s power can only move through human agents at Peniel. The Brethren have—”

  “The Brethren can’t be trusted,” Will spat out. “If you all know what’s happening, why can’t you stop it?” Will stared at Athanasius for a long moment. “Some of the Brethren think Mr. Bart and I took the staff. I need to figure out what’s going on and clear
our names.”

  Aunt Lucille walked over, sensing the tension. “Will, have a rest while the abbot and I spread this salt. We’ll have a nice discussion together when we finish.” The abbot picked up the silver containers and without another word moved to the front door. Lucille trailed him out onto the porch.

  In moments, Will could see the glow of Aunt Lucille’s red ray between the slats blocking the front window. The children and Deb ran over to peek through the cracks of the closed shutters.

  Will knew he had only minutes. He slipped his pith helmet on and picked up the abbot’s high-powered water gun. “It’s now or never,” he said to himself.

  Silently, he opened the back door, hooked his finger around the gun’s trigger, and stepped into the croaking swamp of frogs blocking the high cliffs of Peniel.

  Mayor Lynch barged into Judge Solomon Blabbingdale’s chambers at city hall, ignoring the clerks and a secretary in the outer office.

  The judge sat at the rear of his oak-lined room, a cell phone to his ear. He held a finger up to the mayor as she entered. “Ava, with all this excitement, I’m trying to locate my son, Simon,” he said in his clinical manner. In a few moments, he hung up with annoyance. “He isn’t answering. He told me he was meeting with some friends.” The judge placed the phone back in the drawer and looked at the mayor through his tiny gold spectacles. “Have a chair, Ava.”

  “I come on official business, urgent business.”

  “So it appears.” He wobbled his head a bit. “Am I supposed to guess?”

  “There is another animal outbreak in town and as a matter of public safety we have to use our powers to stop it,” the mayor said calmly.

  “I don’t sign restraining orders on animals—rather hard to enforce. What do you need, Ava?”

  She dropped the folder she had been carrying like a concealed weapon onto the desktop. “Everything’s there, the photographs, weeks’ and weeks’ worth of data…I need an arrest warrant. It’s already written, there at the back. It just needs your signature, sugar.” Mayor Lynch sat in the stiff chair facing the judge’s desk. She crossed her legs and assumed the air of someone awaiting the final polish at the nail salon.

  Judge Blabbingdale released a light whistle as he flipped through the folder. He pulled his spectacles down to the edge of his nose and slid the folder back to her. “Ava. There is not enough here to justify an arrest. This is all circumstantial. Is she a threat to the community?”

  “Yes, I believe she is.”

  “Pictures in a boat near a gator infestation, or whatever it was, are not evidence—”

  “Lucille Wilder is responsible for all of it. That is the finding of our investigative committee. I’m not making this up. Her own nephew is a committee member.”

  “Dan is?” The judge pulled the folder back and scanned the papers. “It’s not enough, Ava. I can’t authorize her detention.” He opened his palms toward her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Then I’ll need to have a hearing to question everyone even remotely associated with Lucille Wilder.” She rifled through the folder until she found the picture she sought. “Have you seen this picture, Judge?” She slapped it on the desktop. “Now, why is your little Simon in the company of Lucille and these suspected figures? Everywhere Tobias Shen or Bartimaeus Johnson or Dan’s boy shows up, trouble follows. And there’s little Simon Blabbingdale right in the thick of it.” She yanked two more photos out, poking a nail at the images. “Isn’t that your son there? And there?”

  “Oh, Ava, stop it.”

  “Sign the warrant. She needs to be questioned in court. Lucille Wilder is the link to all these odd events. She’s controlling these outbreaks. First the gator things, then blood in the river, now a frog infestation. For the sake of this town, we have to stop her.”

  The judge sneered at the documents and photos littering his desk and let out a little whistle.

  Water spewed from Will’s gun, dousing the frogs blocking his way. The instant the blessed water hit them, the frogs emitted weird constricted burps and dissolved into a mist. Will raced through Aunt Lucille’s backyard, clearing a path as he proceeded—never letting go of the trigger.

  Anticipating the spray, the frogs started to frantically leap atop one another.

  Will made it through the clearing, past the massive oak trees to the edge of the winding, rocky path that led up to Peniel. The steep trail seemed to be made of black liquid, roiling and bubbling as the slick frogs jostled about. Pressing forward, Will continued his relentless spray. Except for the nasty sulfur smell when the frogs dissolved, he was sort of enjoying himself. It was kind of like a video game with reeking special effects.

  As he neared the top of the rocky hill, he pumped the trigger. Only spurts of water emerged from the gun’s nozzle. The holy water reservoir was drained. To ward off the insane hoppers, he desperately ran the butt of the gun along the ground. After he hit one frog, it tumbled like an off-kilter golf ball landing on its back. A high-pitched growling sound flew from its gaping mouth. Looking closely into the open jaws, Will spotted a row of serrated, yellow teeth. “Glad I didn’t see that earlier,” he said to himself, swatting the amphibian to the side without delay.

  As he neared Peniel, he noticed something. The frogs had moved away from him even without being hit by the holy water. There was a clear circular zone at his feet through which the frogs did not advance. As he inched forward, the frogs continued to back off, preserving the unobstructed circle around him. This is weird.

  Afraid to press his luck, Will dashed into the front gates of Peniel, where not one fanged frog breached the property. It was a marvel and a relief. He pushed through the heavy front door and sought out his friends.

  He could hear them in Bethel Hall, beyond the outer library, with Bartimaeus and Mr. Shen. He thought it best to stow the gun in the library before going farther.

  “Will-man, what took you so long?” Andrew asked, shoving Will gently as he came into Bethel Hall.

  “There were—are—a lot of frogs outside.”

  “Frogs?” Mr. Shen asked, leaning his head back. “What do you mean, Mr. Wilder?”

  “They came up out of the river. Millions of them. Black, slimy things—and they have teeth.”

  Bartimaeus laughed bitterly. “How’d I know when he said frogs, he wasn’t talkin’ about Kermit?” he told Shen. “So gnats and fiery hail and all the rest’ll be coming soon. Hmmm. We gotta do somethin’ for the people, Tobias. Somethin’ to shield ’em.”

  “You four, stay indoors,” Shen said, pointing at the quartet. “No frog hunting, Mr. Wilder.”

  He motioned to Bartimaeus to follow him down the main hallway. But just as he went to move, the diminutive Brother Philip, a man with parted black hair and intense eyes, came stomping his way. Valens chased after him. Like a Jack Russell terrier on two legs, Philip barked down the hallway, “Where is the abbot or Lucille?”

  “Neither of them is here,” Shen said. “There is an amphibian explosion outside. I imagine that is occupying them at the moment.”

  “There’re going to be some explosions inside too,” Brother Philip said in his usual conspiratorial voice. He had a peculiar way of positioning himself at an angle from whomever he was addressing. Then he would side-speak at them. It gave whatever Philip said the air of a state secret. Just what one would expect from a former CIA technical intelligence officer. “Valens and I just found something in Baldwin’s office that I think you all should see.”

  “It’s all very sad,” Valens said, looking forlorn. “But at least now we know…”

  “Does it have somethin’ to do with the missing staff?” Bartimaeus asked.

  “Yes, it does,” Philip said, cautiously eyeing the kids.

  “We shall take things as we find them,” Shen said, grimacing. He started off down the hall, followed by Philip and Valens.

  “We’ve got frogs outside and snakes inside,” Bartimaeus said to himself. He turned to Will and his friends. “Stay indoors, you hear?�
�

  They all nodded.

  “Mr. Bart, I need to use the restroom. Can you open the door for me?” Will stood before the door marked PRIVATE.

  Bartimaeus rifled through his pockets, found his key ring, and released the lock. “So when you’re through, pull the door shut. It’ll lock behind you.”

  “Sure thing,” Will said.

  Bartimaeus hobbled after Tobias and the others. As soon as he was out of sight, Will held the door open for his friends. “Come on. Come on,” he urged them.

  “Where are you taking us?” Cami asked as she passed into the small stoned foyer. “I assume we are not going to the bathroom.”

  “My great-grandfather’s office is upstairs. There’s something I need to do.”

  On the way up the tight spiral stone staircase, Simon shared everything they had seen at the Karnak Center earlier. “The Sab guy demanded two fresh geese a day from Mr. Bobbit. Why does he need two fresh geese? And there were bones all over the floor of the basement,” Simon said.

  “Then this creepy little guy that looked like a raisin was going to stab us,” Andrew added. “If your friend Mr. Shen hadn’t come along, we would have been the next bones on the floor.” Everyone quieted when they reached the top of the staircase and saw the imposing ancient mahogany door. Two metal bands ran side to side with a great black hole at the center.

  Will dug his great-aunt’s key out of his backpack.

  “Where’d you get that?” Cami asked, suspiciously regarding the gold cross key in his hand.

  “From my aunt Lucille.” Will held the key with both hands just as he had seen Aunt Lucille do each time they ventured up to Jacob Wilder’s office. He plunged his hands into the black hole in the middle of the door. All around it were carved figures in anguish. Will twisted his wrists to the right, then to the left. Two metal panels shot out from the sides, trapping his wrists inside.