Headache

by Crystal Marcos

  “Shall I start the prayer?” Mrs. Young asked Mr. Rupert.

  “Although that is a fantastic idea, I think it best we get into the cellar first.” Mr. Rupert turned the key and lifted the rug, which was connected to part of the wooden floor, up above his head. A light revealed a winding staircase leading down.

  “Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed.

  Peter thought it was cool too, but he was pretty sure Henry still had no idea what was really going on with Goaltan. How nice it would be to be oblivious of worry, when your only concern was what toy you would play with next, Peter thought.

  “Now don’t fret. There is plenty of room for everyone,” Mr. Rupert said, waving them down the stairs.

  Even though there were no windows, the spacious room at the bottom was well lit. Three walls were lined with mahogany wood shelves loaded with books. The wall with no books had coins hanging in frames. A door in that wall led to a small bathroom. A mahogany desk and small shelf next to it held more coins. The cluttered desk had a microscope, a magnifying glass, a few coins, scattered papers, and an open book that Peter was sure was a coin encyclopedia. There was also an old-time phone similar to one Peter had seen at a museum. Next to the phone was a picture of a young man who looked an awful lot like Mr. Rupert. A woman standing next to him held his hand and waved at the camera. Peter had been so preoccupied upstairs he hadn’t looked at any pictures.

  Peter thought the coolest part of the room was the mini-refrigerator next to the desk on the opposite side of the coin shelf. Peter always wanted a mini-refrigerator in his room, but that would never fly with his mother. A magazine rack sat between two loveseats. A frilly paisley couch faced the loveseats in the center of the room.

  “This here is my treasure room, where I come to admire my coins and get some readin’ done. Occasionally, I take a snooze in my chair. Make yourselves at home,” Mr. Rupert told everyone.

  There wasn’t enough sitting room so Peter, Lina, Angela, and Joe sat on the floor. Henry walked over to the mini-fridge and opened the freezer door.

  “Yum, ice cream sandwiches!” Henry said with delight.

  “Henry, get out of there, right now!” Mrs. Young commanded.

  “That’s all right. I would be curious to know what was in that there fridge too,” Mr. Rupert said, patting Henry on the head. “Ice cream sandwiches are my cravin’. I hid them in there. I doubt if ol’ Goaltan will find them and I just can’t bear to think of not eatin’ my sandwiches. Let’s see…grandtastic! There’s enough for everyone!”

  “Grandtastic?” Henry said.

  “Oh yes, that is somethin’ I made up,” Mr. Rupert said, pointing to the picture on the desk. “That is my son and his lovely wife. I want to be a grandpa more than anythin’. My wife, rest her soul, wanted to be a grandma too. Whenever we would get around our son, we would use grandtastic instead of fantastic for any opportunity that the word seemed to fit. Sort of droppin’ the hint we were still waitin’ on those grandchildren. Hallelujah, I just found out last week that I am gonna be a grandpa!” The old man’s eyes twinkled. Congratulations rang around the room.

  “Can we have ice cream sandwiches, Ma?” Henry asked.

  “No!” Lina and Peter answered in unison. They knew how Joe and Angela would feel about it. They were sure the Candonite children did not want to see everyone around them chomping down on something that might resemble their best friend or relative.

  Mr. Rupert seemed to understand. “How about if it’s okay with your mamma, you eat this one sittin’ in my desk chair over in the corner so as to not disturb anyone.” He waited for Mrs. Young’s consent, then handed Henry the sandwich. He picked him up and put him in the desk chair, sliding the chair out of Joe and Angela’s sight. He winked at the Candonite children and they smiled back.

  “What else is in the fridge?” Henry asked as Mr. Rupert walked away.

  “Just some orange juice, bread, and jam. My afternoon snack,” Mr. Rupert answered.

  “Do you get lonely down here?” Henry asked what Peter was thinking.

  “Oh no, I have many friends there in the books I read. Old friends and new friends. I don’t have time to be lonely. I am always on an adventure.” He picked up a book with a picture of a crimson jewel on the front off a shelf. “Right now, I am solvin’ a high-profile mystery in Venice. My son also comes to visit with his wife every other week. They enjoy comin’ down here and readin’ books or comparin’ our coin collections. My wife always wanted a hidden room ever since she read a book about one. I built her this here room and we hold our treasures in it.” Mr. Rupert smiled.

  “A secret room at my house would be awesome,” Peter admitted.

  “I would keep all my toys in my secret room so Lina couldn’t play with them,” Henry said.

  “As if I play with your toys!” Lina protested.

  “Do you have anything I would want to read?” Henry asked Mr. Rupert, ignoring Lina.

  “Oh yes, I have a children’s book section over here,” Mr. Rupert said, leading Henry over to a shelf.

  Henry started pulling books off the shelf, looking for the perfect one to read. All eyes except Nana’s were on Henry. Peter thought, It would be nice to be Henry at that moment, not a care in the world. The room rumbled. One book fell sideways on a shelf and everyone near it jumped. Henry didn’t seem to notice. He was busy jumping up and down because he had found one of his favorite books on the shelf.

  “What is going on out there?” Mrs. Fischer questioned.

  “I don’t know and I ain’t willin’ to find out!” Mr. Rupert answered, putting the book back in its place.

  Everyone sat in silence for several minutes, just listening. Henry read his book to himself over and over. Nana, however, had her eyes closed. She was far away in Honeyville.

  “We can’t stay in here forever,” Rod said.

  “Yes, we can!” Mrs. Young said anxiously. Peter got the feeling she was worried her husband might try to go and investigate. Peter’s mom must have gotten the same feeling too, because she asked Nana to continue telling about Honeyville. Maybe—just maybe—her story could possibly help.

  As Nana resumed her story, she was inside Alyssa’s family’s limousine, sitting in the back seat with Alyssa’s mother. Her mother was as beautiful as Alyssa. When the sun hit her just right, her light green candy crystals were almost blinding. The limo hovered a few feet off the ground and came with a chauffeur. They were approaching the family home. Nana described it as a mansion shaped like a colossal pyramid, turquoise in color with bright pink trim and a matching mailbox at the end of the long driveway.

  “Once inside, Alyssa’s mother informed us that dinner should be ready at any moment,” Nana said. “Alyssa’s father would not be joining us that night as he had a big dinner meeting. Alyssa told me that her father missed dinner all the time. She said her dad worked very hard to make sure her family had a good life. Alyssa would much rather have her dad at home for dinner every night and live in a rundown shack. The way Alyssa said it, I believed her. Alyssa’s mother worked on inventions a couple of days a week in her lab at home. Her mom used to work until the wee hours of the morning until she realized that there were more important things in life.”

  “There certainly are,” Mrs. Fischer interjected.

  Nana continued, “At dinner, I was shocked to see the sparkling white floor graced with a spread fit for a party, yet only Alyssa’s mother, Alyssa, and I were having dinner. There were lush pillows spread around the floor in luxurious rich fabrics. Alyssa’s cat, which to my delight was a green version of one I had seen on a globe in the foyer, was a bundle of spearmint joy and sat on a pillow. As we enjoyed our meal, something remarkable happened to the dining room walls. Every five minutes or so, the pictures that adorned them would change. The colors of the walls would morph into the perfect shades that would match the pictures.”

  As Nana told her story, Peter observed the faces of his family and friends. Everyone looked like they were trying to enjoy
Nana’s pleasant tale, but there was no masking the worry on their faces. Peter had to do something. He couldn’t stand to think what Goaltan was doing above ground. It wasn’t fair that he was destroying the things Peter’s family loved so deeply.

  Flashes of Papa’s Sweet Shop, Curtis Wheeler’s mother’s Cupcakery, and Happy’s donut shop flickered in his sight. These people didn’t deserve this. The house that Goaltan was seeking out was where Peter had grown up. He felt partially responsible. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t gorged himself that fateful day, thereby transporting himself to Maple Town. Peter looked over at Lina. She sat with her legs crossed, twisting strands of carpet. Peter sensed she must have been thinking the same thing. His parents would never let him go above ground to face Goaltan. But it didn’t matter; he knew in his heart what he had to do.

  “I am going up there,” he said, exhaling a deep breath. Peter wasn’t sure where his newfound courage was coming from, but he was going to flow with it.

  “I am going with you,” Lina replied, standing up.

  As Peter had expected, there was a chorus of disapproval.

  “Look, I have to. I have to face Goaltan. We can’t spend the rest of our lives down here,” Peter said.

  “He has a point there. We don’t have enough chow to last us more than a couple days without going topside,” Rod said.

  “Dad, this isn’t a submarine,” Lina reminded him.

  Rod managed a weak smile. “Sorry, it’s the military side of me.”

  “I guess some of us could take a look around. No promises of actually interacting with Goaltan, though,” Peter’s father said.

  Not everyone agreed with this plan. However, ultimately the majority ruled. Peter and Lina received their wish.

  Checking Things Out

  The grownups decided that Peter, his dad, Lina, and her father, would go—as Rod had put it—topside. Nana would stay with Papa, continually looking for answers or help in her Honeyville journey. Mrs. Young would stay behind with Henry. Mr. Rupert and Peter’s mom planned to head straight for the kitchen and storage closet for extra provisions and come right back down with the items they gathered. Joe and Angela were told to stay put as there was no telling what Goaltan would do if he found out about them.

  Peter was the last one out the hatch door. Mr. Rupert started to close the door when he caught sight of Angela and Joe hustling up the stairs.

  “We feel we can help too. We don’t want to hide down there forever,” Joe informed them.

  Mr. Rupert pulled back the floorboards and let the Candonite children join them. Peter was pleasantly surprised and somewhat relieved at the additional help. Peter took into account that they had no plan. They just wanted to check out what they could find in a matter of minutes.

  “Here,” Joe said, placing something in Peter’s hand. It was a small ceramic angel sculpture. The little angel was smiling, her head tilted, and holding one hand over her heart. Peter looked at Joe inquisitively.

  “It’s from Henry. He wanted you to have it. He said it would keep you safe. Henry isn’t as oblivious as we thought.” Joe smiled. Peter smiled back and placed the angel carefully in his pocket.

  “Here we go, GI Joe,” Lina whispered to Peter. He kind of liked that and gave her a nudge in return.

  The first thing everyone did, besides Mr. Rupert and Peter’s mom—who had their own agenda—was crowd around the windows and peek out the blinds. Peter glanced into the china cabinet and saw his own soldier action figure sitting in the place of where the little angel Henry gave him once sat. The soldier was positioned so that he had his hand over his heart. Peter smiled and squeezed the angel figurine in his pocket. Peering out the window, they saw nothing unusual. No sign of Goaltan and his goons. What was he up to? Peter thought. Only one way to find out.

  Outside, Peter could feel his hands getting sweaty despite the unusual chill in the air. The cul-de-sac was eerily quiet. They all paired up to keep tabs on each other: Rod with Peter’s dad, Angela with Joe, and Lina with Peter. Oddly, Peter felt the safest being paired with Lina. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they had already been on a quest together into Goaltan’s territory. Peter felt more confident moving stealthily next to his best friend. They were a team, a force to be reckoned with.

  No sign of Goaltan. No sign of the Peblars. It couldn’t be that hard to find his house, Peter thought. After all, Goaltan did have the address. What was taking him so long? Perhaps he had to find a map. Perhaps he had to stop to eat. Perhaps he wasn’t coming at all.

  A violent rumble shook the ground and Lina lost her footing, stepping on Peter’s foot.

  He reacted with a low “Ow!”

  “Sorry,” Lina replied, just as low.

  Everyone within sight was staying close to concealing objects like a tree, a car, and a garbage can. Peter couldn’t see his father or Rod. A piercing whistling noise echoed nearby.

  Lina gestured forward to all who could see. “Let’s check it out.”

  Peter, Lina, Joe, and Angela ventured forward. No time to worry about where Rod and Mr. Fischer went. The obvious thing to do was move toward the entrance of the cul-de-sac to see down the intersecting street.

  “We’ll take the opposite side of the street,” Joe said. Peter watched as both his friends, one brilliant yellow and one rainbow-chipped, dashed away.

  “We better hurry too,” Peter suggested to Lina, who was looking around for the first time and noticed her dad and Peter’s dad were missing. She grabbed Peter’s hand and guided him from house to house until they were at the end of the cul-de-sac. Angela and Joe were already crouching behind a fence on the opposite side of the street. Lina gasped and Peter swallowed hard when three Peblars captured Rod and Peter’s dad, taking them hostage. Rod was yelling something the children couldn’t quite make out.

  “Dad!” Lina whispered desperately.

  Peter had one immediate response, to grab Lina and pull her behind a parked car. They watched as the Peblars shoved their dads into the lavender Cupcakery delivery truck. The truck was shaped in the form of a cupcake with chocolate sprinkles and a strawberry on top. It was a strange choice for a holding cell. Peter was surprised the Peblars hadn’t destroyed it. Where were they taking them? Peter wondered. He and Lina watched in horror as two other Peblars reached over the fence, grabbed Joe and Angela, heaved them effortlessly over the fence and pulled them toward the truck. Oh spam!

  Peter realized he was squeezing the door handle of a parked car. He stared down at his knuckles, which had turned white. He tried the door handle, relieved it was unlocked. The dark tinted windows would aid in concealing them.

  “Get in,” Peter whispered to Lina. They climbed into the car hastily and shut the door silently. They watched as the Peblars locked Angela and Joe in the back of the truck with the others. What now? The ground rumbled again and the car swayed with every sound. More Peblars were joining the party, coming from all sides. Goaltan was not hard to make out amongst them. He was the biggest, brawniest, and meanest looking of them all. Peter realized that in that moment, Goaltan was the one he feared the most.

  Peter and Lina were relieved to see that the truck stayed put and did not go speeding away. However, two stout Peblars leaned against the doors, guarding the prisoners.

  “We don’t have much time before they find your house,” Lina said.

  “I know,” Peter answered glumly.

  “We have to do something!” Lina said with desperation, reaching for the door handle of the car.

  “Stop!” Peter said, barely above a whisper. “You can’t go off and get yourself caught too. What good would that do?”

  “I suppose you are right,” Lina agreed.

  Peter noticed Goaltan and his crew heading toward them. In the background, the Cupcakery truck rocked back and forth, evidence of his friends trying to escape. With every step, Goaltan seemed to be getting angrier, sensing he was closing in on Peter’s home. Goaltan’s feet came down hard on the asp
halt as soon as he reached the street Peter lived on. Peter and Lina ducked down as they saw the asphalt crack beneath his feet. Even through the car they could smell the rancid beasts. Their noses wrinkled in response.

  The children could hear the Peblars approaching and Goaltan’s sinister laughter vibrated the car windows. Shortly after, a thunderous thud came from above Peter’s and Lina’s heads. It took everything they had not to react. They waited as they heard the Peblars pass the car. Slowly they looked up and saw that Goaltan had left an imprint of his fist dented into the roof of the car. The children gulped.

  Peter dropped his head in his hands. “If we don’t do something soon, my neighborhood will be destroyed.”

  “They always say this in the movies, so I will give it a try….Everything is going to be all right,” Lina said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Peter lifted his head and gave her a grimace. “I don’t know if this will work, but I am going to try talking with Goaltan.”

  “Are you loony tunes?” Lina wrinkled her nose up at him.

  “I have to try reasoning with him. Are you coming with me?” Peter hesitated with his hand on the door handle.

  “Well, I am not letting you go alone,” Lina answered with a soft smile.

  Redecorating

  Peter was thankful to have his friend by his side. He inhaled deeply then exhaled as he opened the door. Goaltan had reached Peter’s driveway and was holding something in his hand.

  “My mailbox!” Peter shouted, his voice trembling, his face burning with fear and anger.

  Goaltan swung around at the sound of Peter’s voice.

  “This is the least of your worries!” Goaltan said, tossing the mailbox into the air. It landed a few inches from Peter’s and Lina’s feet, causing them to cringe and stumble backwards. Goaltan and his goons found this quite humorous. Their raucous laughter echoed through the neighborhood.

  “Are you here to surrender or did you just come to watch me destroy your humble abode?” Goaltan toyed with Peter, lifting his right foot up a few inches and slamming it back down into Peter’s driveway, making a miniature crater.