by Douglas Cobb
Christmas was just a week away! Just six more shopping days left--I knew that Celeste's brother, Dexter, liked the Blue Man Group, and I would probably get him every DVD of theirs I could find, and probably throw in a XBox 360 game or two.. Nicole liked Batman graphic novels and anything Star Wars related, so I would likely hit both Amazon and my favorite local bookstore, Between the Covers.
Celeste came in from her bedroom, where she'd been practicing her clarinet. "How'd you like that?" she said. "George Gershwin's 'Rhapsody in Blue,' is fun to play on the clarinet."
"It was really good," I said. "Do you know 'Don't Fear the Reaper' by Blue Oyster Cult?"
"I like the song, but what does Blue Oyster Cult have to do with Gershwin? Besides, I don't think that 'Don't Fear the Reaper,' was really intended to be performed on the clarinet!"
"Yeah, you have a point there. They don't have anything to do with one another, except that both are songs, of course, and both are related to the color blue," I said.
The sound of a car horn came to our ears, and we rushed to the window. Quentin was in the drive, in a brand-new Mustang. For some odd reason, he'd chosen to buy a blue one. Celeste got the leash and clipped me on to it, and we went outside to see the car up close.
"Check this beauty out!" Triple Q said enthusiastically. "Zero to sixty in nine seconds fast! It has genuine leather bucket seats, a state-of-the-art stereo system, twenty-two inch rims--hop in and we'll go for a ride!"
"Mom will be home soon from getting groceries--does she know you bought this?" Celeste asked.
"Know?" Triple Q said, "She's the one who suggested it to me, as an early Christmas present for both of us, and she specifically mentioned that I get a blue one!"
"Can Lily come, too?" Celeste asked her father.
"Sure, sure--her paws aren't muddy, though, are they?"
"No, they're okay," Celeste said, after picking me up and looking at my paws. "Let's go!"
Quentin squealed the tires and burned rubber just backing out of the drive. But, living in a residential neighborhood, as we did, he kept to the speed limit of twenty-five mph on the streets.
We didn't ride very far, just to Eternity On Your Thighs so that Triple Q could show off his newest acquisition to Dexter and Nicole.
"Wow, sweet ride, Dad!" Dexter said, when he saw the Mustang.
Nicole loved it, too. "That's my favorite shade of blue!" she said. "We were thinking of painting La Bella Notte possibly either the same shade, or maybe Midnight Blue!"
"I was thinking that it's been quite a while since the old homestead was painted, myself," said Triple Q, "and blue would be a great color for it, too!"
Once again, the coincidences were mounting. If they were coincidences, that is, and not the work of--dare I say it (and I do dare)--SNURFLES! But, how were they doing it, and why? What purpose could they possibly have in simply making everyone in town become obsessed with the color blue? Was this obsession spreading to the rest of the United States?
When we got back home, Clare was absolutely gaga over the blue Mustang. Triple Q told her that Dexter and Nicole were considering painting La Bella Notte blue, and that he had in mind doing the same with their house.
Clare was ecstatic: "What a marvelous idea!" she said. "Imagine both them and us planning to redecorate using blue paint at the same time. It must be something in the water!"
Something in the water--a phrase most often said when referring to two or more people you are acquainted with who become pregnant or who are pregnant at approximately the same or overlapping times. Of course, there's not anything about what's in the water really that makes someone pregnant, but...
Celeste, your mother's a genius!" I roared. "She just gave me an idea!" We moved to the living room where we could have more privacy.
"What? That you could really use some ice-cold water about now?" Celeste asked me, as she sat down on the couch..
"Huh? Don't be silly, Celeste!" I said, "Though, that would be nice. Wait a moment; no, actually, it wouldn't be nice at all! Not if my idea is correct, anyway!"
"Are you trying to suggest that SNURFLES somehow has managed to put some sort of virus into Centralia's water supply? How could that even be possible?" Celeste asked in a hushed voice.
"Right in one, girl-fri-end!" I answered her. "And, we're talking about SNURFLES here, so anything's possible!"
"Why are you looking at me so strangely?" Celeste wondered. I had done a double-take when I was answering her; she looked somehow--different.
"Celeste--your skin--it looks like it's turning blue!" I roared. "And, if I'm not very much mistaken, that's the first sign of the second stage of the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague, the first stage being that the victims becoming obsessed with the color blue! If you don't get an antidote within twenty-four hours, your skin could stay permanently blue!"
"And what about everyone else in town?" Celeste asked. "They all seem to have the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague, also! We have to warn them and help them!"
"You're correct as usual, Celeste--I probably would look blue, myself, if I didn't have these black scales covering my skin!"
"Fur, you mean?"
"What 'chu talkin' about, chica? You heard what I said! Anyway, the plague is caused by a virus that the Blue Scarab Beetles get infected with, and then transmit to people and other animals. Thing is, America and Arkansas is not where Blue Scarab Beetles originate--they're native to Egypt, thousands of miles from here, across the sea!" I replied.
"So, how could they have gotten here, and what can we do to stop the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague?" Celeste asked.
"I know where we can find out the answers to those burning questions--but, you have to take me to the Centralia Field Museum of Ancient Antiquities, and we need to get there fast, before they close! Professor Fritz Furlong is the person we need to see!"
"How can I go anywhere looking all--well--blue?"
"It's cold--just wear a hoodie, and that should hide your face well enough for now," I said, impatiently. "Let's get a move one!"
As the Centralia Field Museum of Ancient Antiquities was within easy walking distance, we headed off on foot. I tugged on the leash, wanting to get there as soon as possible. Before long, we could see the imposing and majestic edifice, a mere six blocks away. The steps leading up to the huge sets of doors were wide, and there were two statues of lions guarding the entrance.
Within minutes, we were at Professor Fritz Furlong's office. The door was open, so we walked in. Fortunately, it was a pet-friendly museum, and no one raised a fuss when I sauntered in with Celeste. The only rule (well, a main one, anyway) was that if a pet deposited a little present behind, that the owner needed to dispose of it using strategically located baggies and trash receptacles.
"Vell, vell! Vhat do ve haf here?" Professor Furlong asked. He peered closely at Celeste's face. "Mein Gott!" he exclaimed. "You haf de Blue Scarab Beetle Plague, mein liebchen!"
"Well, yes, I apparently do haf--er--have the plague, sir! I am afraid that most of the rest of the people in Centralia have it, too!" Celeste said. "That's why I've come here to talk to you, Professor Furlong, sir. I heard you were an expert on the subject, and I wanted to learn more about it and how to cure it, if there is a cure!"
"Vell," he began, "ze Blue Scarab Beetle Plague, young lady, vas documented in the ancient texts of Babylon, Sumeria, and Egypt. It is one of the lesser-known plagues, but it iz an unpleasantly embarraz-zing one, as it turns one's skin blue, permanently!" He reached to grab a book from his crammed floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and flipped it until he came to a certain page, where he showed Celeste and myself (Celeste held me in her arms so I could easily view the book) full-color photos of the glistening and beautiful shells of the Blue Scarab Beetle.
"Dis, my friends, iz ze Blue Scarab Beetle!" he said, gesturing at the photos. "Zey should not be found anywhere around here, being native to Egypt and other countries of ze Middle East! The Guild of Assassins began the plague, according to the ancient texts. Zey grou
nd up ze shells of ze beetles, and added ze result into ze water supply of zeir enemies! It takes an amazingly small amount of the ground-up substance to infect people and animals with ze plague, which iz really caused by a virus with the Blue Scarab Beetles' shells.
"Oh, and ze cure?" Professor Furlong continued. "Zere iz none."
"Vhat?--I mean, what?" Celeste asked. "There simply has to be a cure! I can't stay blue the rest of my life!"
"No vorries dere, liebchen! If a person gets the plague, and doesn't take the antidote within twenty-four hours, one's life isn't very long after dat. Death follows within a veek."
"Antidote?" Celeste said, puzzled. "I thought you said there's not a cure."
"Vell, dere's not a 'cure'--one vill always at the least have a stronger-den-normal obsession with ze color blue, though that gets somewhat lesser with time--but, ze good news iz zat ze blue skin color will eventually fade away, and dat you won't die!"
"O-kay," Celeste said, "then tell us what's in this antidote, and let's get a batch made up quickly! If not, everyone in Centralia might develop a bad case of the blues, and a worse case of--duh dum dum--Death!"
"Vat ve need to do is dis--" Professor Fritz Furlong began, and then told us a list of fifteen common household products to get and how to prepare them to formulate the antidote. One of the main ingredients was honey, which was a primary component of many Egyptian medicinal remedies. We got the supplies, mixed up a huge batch, and I convinced Triple Q by influencing his thoughts that taking a ride in his new blue Mustang to the Centralia Water Department was the ideal way to break in his ride.
"Lily, this just has to work!" Celeste said. "I sure hope that Professor Fritz Furlong had all of the ingredients right, and that we mixed it in the correct proportions! The fate of the entire city rests on us getting the formula exactly right!"
"Relax, chica!" I told her. "All we can do is the best we can do. We should know in a couple of hours if our efforts have paid off.
"What I'm concerned about even more is--"
"There's something more to be concerned about?"
"Why, yes, Celeste," I said, "there is. And that is, the comment Professor Fritz Furlong made to use about the people who were behind the original Blue Scarab Beetle Plague: the Guild of Assassins. I wouldn't doubt that SNURFLES has its roots all the way back to when the Guild of Assassins were in operation. I also wouldn't doubt that in some shape or form, they are still in operation today! If so, they won't stop trying to cause as much havoc as they can, even if we foil their plan to unleash the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague on Centralia."
"Do you have any clues as to who is one of the Guild of Assassin's leaders, Lily?" Celeste asked.
"Assuming they are still in existence, I'd say off the top of my head that one name is a strong candidate for being the person who arranged for everything so perfectly that he almost brought this city and PAWS to their knees: Omar Khalid Ali," I said.
"Who's this Omar dude?"
"This Omar 'dude,' as you call him, Celeste, is perhaps even more of a criminal mastermind than Frankie Sinister and General Yao Xing. He is a red Egyptian fox. They sometimes work in packs, but often they work alone. Like General Rommel of WWII, he's earned the nickname of the Desert Fox."
"If the Desert Fox is responsible for bringing this plague to Centralia, Lily, we have to let the rest of PAWS in on this, and not try to capture him on our own. It could be too dangerous!"
"Yes, we need to tell the other members of PAWS about Omar. He could be planning to pick us off, one-by-one, and crunch on our bones. Take me outside, and I'll alert them through my roaring, then I'll fill in any blanks by sending them an e-mail about everything that happened. I'll also let them know that now it's once again safe to drink the water."
"How many glasses of it do I have to drink to counter-act the effects of the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague?" Celeste asked. "I'm on my third, and I'm already feeling waterlogged!"
"The professor wasn't specific about that," I answered her. "I'm guessing that it depends on one's body weight, and how far the plague's course has progressed. But, you're already looking more like your usual self, though I doubt that you'll ever get over talking a blue streak. Some things never change!"
"That wasn't nice, Lily! I've had a hard day, and--"
"Tell me about it, chica! That's what I have said to you in the past, and you have just acted like I was lying to you!" I told her.
"You have to admit, most dogs don't led lives like yours," Celeste said.
"I not a dog, though! I'm a pterodactyl! But, I get your point. It just would have been nice if you had believed me when I told you things I did during the daytime when you were at school."
"Yeah, well...I was too busy learning about fractions and how to diagram sentences, stuff like that, I guess, and was thinking too much about what the most important subject of all there is to most people: myself," Celeste said. "But I didn't mean anything by it, honest!
"Come here, come here--who wants her belly scratched? Who wants her belly scratched?"
"Celeste, we have more important things to do!" I said, though I walked over to her and lay on my back on the carpet, within easy reach of her fingers. "We have to--ahhh, that feels soooo good! I want my belly scratched, I do! But just not for very long---ohhhh, yeah--a little to the right, please--that's the good stuff!
* * * *
Clare mentioned to Celeste in the days that followed that neighbors and other townsfolk reported seeing a red, dog-like animal in the vicinity that seemed to vanish like the wind, or like smoke, when spotted. No one knew exactly what it was, though some people claimed it was the chupacabra, or goat-sucker, a legendary beast that often attacked and killed small animals according to people in countries like Puerto Rico and Mexico. Omar was getting too close for comfort. I'd warned the other members of PAWS that their Level of Vigilance should be increased from Amber to Red, but one could never be too vigilant.
Celeste, Triple Q, and Clare were recovering quite nicely from their bout of the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague. You could hardly tell that anything had happened to them, so fortunately, the remedy we'd concocted with Professor Fritz Furlong's assistance had worked. Centralia was probably a trial run for a much larger planned release of the disease, depending on how well the scheme worked.
'Twas two nights before Christmas, around twelve-thirty, and not a creature was stirring in the house. But, outside, one was stirring, and doing something much, much worse than that. My super-sensitive ears detected a rustling in the bushes at the left side of the house, directly outside of Celeste's room (where we both were, she being sound asleep then) below her window. Then, shortly afterwards, I smelled the unmistakable odors of gasoline and burning wood. I roared for all I was worth, waking everyone in the entire house up, running frantically from room-to-room as the fire spread.
Clare woke up and immediately smelled the smoke, and dialed 911. Triple Q made sure we all got out of the house into the front yard, then got the fire extinguisher from the kitchen, and ran back outside to try to put out the fire. Within ten minutes, the fire trucks had arrived, and the firemen pumped water onto the flames at the side of the house. Neighbors had gathered to watch, and sleepily lined the street, craning their necks in our direction.
Dexter and Nicole arrived not long after that, wakened by Clare's urgent call to them about the fire. They were sad and tearful, as we all were. The firemen got the fire under control within another ten minutes, saving almost all of the house; but, Celeste's bedroom had been totally destroyed, and there was water and smoke damage to much of the house. So many memories, down the drain....
Triple Q, Clare, and Celeste hugged each other, and they kept saying that if it wasn't for me, they could have all died and the house could have been burnt to the ground. Yeah, sure, I thought to myself; but, if it wasn't for me, and Omar and SNURFLES' desire for revenge, the fire would have never happened. Christmas was ruined, and I didn't feel like a heroine at all. That's what I get, I thought, for letti
ng down my vigilance, even at Christmastime.
****
Dexter and Nicole offered to let us stay at their five-bedroom house until their parents' was repaired. It was nice of them, but Quentin and Clare instead opted for us to rent a penthouse suite at the Centralia Hilton. We brought the Christmas presents the next day, and gathered up clothes and necessities, and Triple Q made calls to get estimates on how much it'd cost and how long it'd take to rebuild Celeste's room and repair the damage to the rest of the house. Also, we joined the last-minute Christmas shoppers cramming the mall and other stores to try to get bargains so we could purchase Celeste a whole new wardrobe of clothes and shoes.
Christmas just wasn't seeming to be so merry, anymore. I was beginning to get the feeling now that many people have at this time of the year, of having a "Blue Christmas," and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.
Quentin and Clare were trying their best to act cheerful, despite the circumstances, I'm sure for both their sakes and Celeste's. We would have Christmas first at the hotel, then drive over to Dexter's and Nicole's place, then to Paris, to open up gifts at Celeste's grandparents' house. And, after we returned to town and the hotel, I and Celeste would fly to the CHASE complex and to each of the other members of PAWS' houses and drop of gifts for them. It would be a very busy day, filled with time spent with family and friends. Perhaps in my depressed state of mind earlier, I'd been wrong about Omar and SNURFLES succeeding. As long as you continue to have faith and carry Christmas in your heart, then it can never be ruined.
The Monday after Christmas, Triple Q announced, men would be at the house to begin working on Celeste's new room. Despite the tragic events of the night before, I could feel excitement in the air. There's no way that the memories and books and other things in Celeste's old room would ever be replaced, though her parents could get her some of the same sorts of things she'd lost to the fire. Christmas wouldn't be perfect, but what Christmas was? It would still be Christmas.
