Lola Benko, Treasure Hunter

by Beth McMullen

  Oh, no way! I cannot fall down on the ground! I’ll be buried in them! Run, Lola, run! Surf this wave of rats! I close my eyes and plow forward. Unable to see my father, Jin, or Hannah, I follow a small pinprick of light. The smell is overwhelming, a furry, damp, musty animal smell. What if we don’t get out? What if the rats herd us into a dead end and just keep coming, eventually suffocating us with their numbers?

  Don’t think like that! Out of the darkness, a hand grabs mine. Jin. He yanks me into a small space off the tunnel, a smaller version of the bunker where Dad was held. Where are the others? Are they here? Have they been swept away? “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. The rats aren’t in here.” I still feel them on my skin. They are everywhere. Panic rises in my throat. I can’t get it to stop. I push away from Jin and flail into the wall of the little cave.

  Imagine my surprise when I crash right through it, falling headfirst into darkness.

  I regain consciousness to see three looks of grave concern, but none with whiskers or pointy little ears. It’s dark and damp. Quickly, I check my fingers to make sure the rats didn’t bite any of them off. I figure my toes are safe because my shoes are still on. There were so many rats. I didn’t know there could be so many rats. “Lola?” Dad places a hand on my forehead as if checking for a fever. “Say something.”

  “Where are we?” I croak.

  “You saved us,” Jin says proudly. “By freaking out and falling through that wall, which led to a subway tunnel. Now we just have to walk out.”

  “Rats?” I whisper.

  “They’re gone.” Dad uses his soothing voice. I must be a mess.

  “I generally don’t have a problem with rats,” Hannah says. “They are wicked smart and some kinds make good pets. But that was… a lot of them.” She shivers.

  “Lipstick is quite creative,” Dad says. “I will give her that.”

  I try to sit up. My head hurts. “That was the worst,” I mutter. “I mean, really, I’d have taken ants or bees or spiders or anything else.”

  “Okay, spill it,” Hannah says, hands on hips. “What did rats ever do to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  But Dad does. He sits down on the hard ground beside me, leaning against a wall. “When Lola was three,” he begins, “I took her to Egypt on an expedition with me. Her mother had just left us, you see, and I was afraid to let Lola out of my sight.”

  “Dad. Really?”

  He ignores me. “During the day, when I was working, I had a woman from town look after her. Apparently, they encountered some rats and it was very unpleasant for Lola and she has been uncomfortable around them ever since.” Uncomfortable? I sit up.

  “The babysitter left me in our tent and four rats attacked me,” I say with a sniff. “It was not uncomfortable. It was terrifying.” I remember their beady little eyes and twitchy whiskers as if it were yesterday. They were huge and clearly had a plan, spreading to the corners of the room and closing in on me from all directions. I was paralyzed with fear. The rats bit my fingers and toes. They pulled my hair and chewed my clothing. It was like they were taunting me, laughing at my distress. Finally, I started screaming so loudly half the village came running. Needless to say, the babysitter was dismissed.

  But that was when I decided that I would never let fear paralyze me again. No standing around doing nothing. Forget that. Although it’s pretty clear that rats still freak me out, at least I did not freeze and let them overwhelm me. “I’m perfectly okay with all the other animals on the planet,” I say defensively.

  “What about scorpions?” asks Jin, smirking.

  “Or poisonous snakes?” Hannah grins.

  “Polar bears?”

  “Oh wait. I’ve got it. Albino penguins!”

  Jin and Hannah giggle uncontrollably, clutching their sides and high-fiving. Already I need new friends because mine are obviously defective.

  “You three certainly recover from trauma quickly,” my father observes. “But perhaps we should make our way out of here before we are run over by a train?”

  I will not even try to explain the looks we get when we finally reach a subway platform and climb onto it. Words cannot do them justice.

  CHAPTER 40 SURPRISE!

  TO SAY GREAT-AUNT IRMA IS surprised to see us is an understatement. She faints dead away, dropping at our feet with a thud. Alarmed, Zeus flutters around in a tizzy, pecking at Dad’s head and shrieking. When Irma wakes, her eyes fill with tears.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” she says, hugging my dad. “I was so sure that this time you’d gone and actually gotten yourself killed.”

  Dad hugs her hard. “If not for Lola and her friends, I might not have gotten out of this.”

  Irma makes a pot of bitter tea and Dad tells us how the International Task Force for the Cooperative Protection of Entities with Questionable Provenance asks for his help from time to time finding artifacts that might possess qualities “uncommon on earth.”

  “He means magical, my dear.” Irma pats my hand.

  “Wait a minute,” I demand. “There are more stones out there?”

  “Not stones, exactly,” Dad replies. “But… other things. Yes.”

  “And all these years that we’ve been running around the world looking for lost things, you were really on missions for the International Task Force on… whatever it is?”

  “No, not at all,” Dad says quickly. “Just… sometimes.” I cannot believe this. I mean, I’m a pretty observant kid. Or I thought I was. “The ITFCPEQP is really just concerned with the safety of all involved. Entities with questionable provenance can be dangerous.”

  “Magical objects,” Irma repeats.

  I have questions. Lots of questions. What are these magical objects? Where do they come from? Why are they here? Who made them? What does the Task Force do with them?

  “Oh,” Dad says. “Most everything we hunt for turns out to be, well, ordinary and very much of this world. But once in a while there are things that are more difficult to explain. Those items we keep safe, and away from the general public. Knowledge of their existence can cause problems. As you have seen. That’s all.”

  That’s all? This and all his other answers are deeply unsatisfying. “I engaged in a life of crime to save you,” I say pointedly. “I almost got sent up the river. You owe me a proper explanation.”

  Needless to say, Irma is a little dumbfounded to discover that my crime spree was simply a means to an end. “I should have seen that coming,” she says thoughtfully.

  “I had to finance my mission to find Dad,” I explain. “Travel is not cheap.”

  “The important thing is that I put you in danger this time,” Dad says. “I will never forgive myself.”

  I’d argue that while that is an important thing, it is not the important thing. I restate my questions: Why, where, who, and what? But Dad stands slowly, reporting that he must make immediate contact with Star and Fish and bring them up to speed so they can stop Lipstick.

  “Star and Fish are quite skilled at this part,” Dad says. “I feel sure the stone will be in good hands in no time at all.”

  I’d like to see Star and Fish again. I’d like to kick them in the shins for acting like I was pathetic when I claimed my father was still alive. I’d like to yell at them for losing track of him, for not keeping him out of harm’s way. What kind of two-bit operation are they running anyway? And they have got to do something about their name. All those letters!

  Dad is on the phone for much too long, and eventually, Irma insists I go to bed. It sounds like the best idea ever. I’m exhausted but happy. I found my dad. I accomplished what I set out to do. There will be time later to unravel all the details, to get my questions answered, but that can wait. For the first time in eight months, I fall into a deep dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  When I awake suddenly, a few hours later, I have no idea what time it is or where I am. It takes me a second to recognize my room. Everythi
ng is normal. Everything is fine. Dad is here, just down the hall. He’s safe. But a bug buzzes my ear. I swat at it.

  You sleep like the dead.

  Stone? Now?

  Were you expecting someone else?

  Where were you before, when we needed help escaping crazy Lipstick? Having a nap? Getting a manicure? Oh wait, you don’t have fingers.

  There are some things you just have to learn for yourself.

  This is not Oz and I am not Dorothy.

  Fine. I had things to do.

  So what do you want? Why are you waking me up in the middle of the night? Am I still dreaming? Probably I am.

  You’re not. Believe me. But I need you to come and get me. I’m in the house. You know the one. And you know how to get in.

  No! No! No! Where the heck are Star and Fish? Isn’t this their job? I did what I set out to do. Sitting up, I stare into the darkness, my pulse racing double time.

  But maybe I’m not done. Maybe saving Dad doesn’t matter if the world we live in is about to be ruined by Lipstick and her EmoJabber zombie army. There are things I really like about this world. Like my dad. And Irma. And Jin. And Hannah. Even Zeus although he can be loud and annoying. And I like pottery and math class and Redwood. I like the way the air smells in San Francisco.

  Maybe I really do have to save the world?

  CHAPTER 41 RETURN TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

  OH, I HATE THIS IDEA. I really want to stay in my bed and pretend that this is out of my hands. Finished. Done. But it’s not and pretending otherwise is just putting off the inevitable. Before I can talk myself out of it, which won’t take much, I’m out of bed. I pull on track pants and a hoodie, slip on tennis shoes, and shrug my backpack over my shoulders. I fling the rope ladder over the edge of my window and scramble down to the ground. One bus ride and thirty minutes later, I’m standing at the drainpipe, looking up at a balcony I really didn’t think I would see again.

  “If this was for anything less than saving the world,” I mutter, “I’d have stayed in bed.” Gingerly, I place a foot on the lowest bracket securing the pipe and begin to climb. The upper part of the pipe is still detached from when Hannah almost fell, but if I center my gravity just so, I think I can make it before it peels away completely from the wall.

  On the upside, I’m way faster than I was the first time. On the downside, I have no Frank. The minute I pass through the French doors, they will know I’m here. I land with an unpleasant thud on the balcony.

  “I really thought we were through with each other,” I mumble to the house. There is only one way I get in there and that is if the stupid stone helps me. I clear my head. I relax my shoulders.

  Stone! Even unspoken, my tone is sharp, commanding. You called me down here and now it is time for you to do my bidding.

  Look at you! You’re getting the hang of this. I knew you would. Can’t be all wishy-washy. Don’t be afraid of your own voice.

  Tell me where you are and make it so I can get there.

  As you desire, my master. Just kidding. So you want to be invisible?

  Yes.

  Sorry. That’s beyond my abilities, but I can make it so they don’t see you.

  Isn’t that the same thing?

  No. No it is not.

  I am not going to stand here and argue with a magic stone. I have my limits. Where are you?

  I’m in the kitchen.

  At least I know where that is. Okay. I’m coming.

  Oh goody!

  I push open the French doors. If the stone is tricking me or is really not as talented as reported, I will soon be in big trouble. I push this from my mind and stride into the room. For a brief moment, I consider stuffing the headless snowman sculpture into my backpack just in case, but that does not seem like the best choice, all things considered. Out in the hallway, I sidestep the knight’s armor still scattered across the floor and head for the stairs. No one comes. No pounding footsteps, no shouts of “Stop or else!” Just silence. It’s like I’m not here.

  Drifting up the stairs are voices that I recognize as Buzz’s and Plaid’s. Plaid admonishes Buzz for losing us down in the tunnels. “How could you leave them with their backpacks? What sort of idiot are you? This is a good gig and now you’ve gone and potentially ruined it.”

  “Hey,” Buzz shoots back. “I got hit. It was not okay.”

  Plaid sighs loudly. “What am I going to do with you?”

  I’m on the bottom step. They sit at the table, just yards from where I stand, the stone between them. My hands shake. I’m so nervous I might barf on my shoes. But I can’t very well stand here like a statue forever.

  I take a deep breath and step into the kitchen.

  CHAPTER 42 INVISIBLE GIRL

  I EXPECT BUZZ AND PLAID to leap from their chairs and grab me. I brace myself for impact. But they continue to argue about Buzz’s level of stupidity in letting us blow up the cave door and escape. They don’t even turn in my direction. A powerful surge of adrenaline rises in my veins. I creep closer, my feet as silent as a cat’s. Buzz complains to Plaid that he is unsympathetic to the fact that Hannah clocked him in the head with the voice amplifier. Plaid says Buzz does not deserve sympathy, that he is hopeless and useless.

  I stand right behind Plaid, as obvious as the nose on my face. But their eyes never drift in my direction. They are completely focused on each other. I am invisible.

  Pretty cool, huh?

  Oh yes. Very cool.

  I slide around the edge of the table, now a simple arm’s length from the stone. All I have to do is reach out and take it. Holding my breath, I snake my hand between Plaid and Buzz and close my fingers tight around the stone. They continue to argue. A surge of relief floods my system.

  Got you.

  So you have.

  Slowly, I back away from the table. How long until the spell is broken and Plaid and Buzz realize the stone is gone? I inch backward toward the steps, keeping my eyes on them, but they just continue to argue. Finally, my feet bump the first step and I fly.

  Moments later, I’m back on the balcony, panting. I shimmy onto the drainage pipe and begin to work my way back down. It’s precarious, barely clinging to the wall. When I am about halfway down, it begins to buckle out from the wall. But I’m ready. I shove off as hard as I can and land dead center in the rosemary hedge, sure to keep my cast clear. I do a much better job falling this time. Scrambling to my feet, I slip between the hedges and out onto the street. Free and clear.

  We did it!

  Not bad.

  Not bad? That was perfect. That was great! I wish I’d had you around the first time I broke into this house.

  We can do many things together.

  We can, can’t we?

  I’m so excited I can barely stand it. I feel powerful, invincible, and I want to tell everyone. I want to scream it from the rooftops. But there is no one to tell. All of San Francisco is sleeping.

  * * *

  By the time I crawl back through my bedroom window, there is an edge of light on the horizon. Clutching the stone, I slip under my covers and lay my head on the nice, cool pillow.

  I have the stone. Think about what I could do. We could win the STEM fair! That would make Jin happy. Or maybe the three of us partner up and work on all the projects together? That would be fun, right? Even Dad says we make a good team.

  Why not just win it yourself? Why share the glory?

  Huh?

  You heard me. You built Frank. Why should you share the spoils?

  Because, well… they’re my friends.

  Are they? Isn’t Jin just using you for a STEM fair victory he cannot secure himself?

  No!

  Are you sure?

  My skin suddenly feels itchy and tight. Should I be sharing the credit for the STEM fair project when I did all the work? I’ll be the one to rebuild Frank 3.0, just like I did with the last one, and I already have lots of improvements in mind. Do I owe Jin anything?

  And Hannah tried to blackmail
you. She just wants to control you. Why would you want that?

  I… um… I don’t know.

  They are both using you.

  I press my palms to my ears. I don’t want to hear this.

  All you have to do is decide you want to win that STEM fair and after that, everything is easy. Trust me.

  Marvelous Merlin told me not to let the stone sway me, no matter what it offers. Don’t give in, he said. I remember Jin grasping my hand when the rats swarmed us. I remember Hannah saving my life on the Nebula. The feeling I have when I’m with them is not made up. I know that in my heart. It’s a place where I do not feel alone. All at once, I recognize the whiff of the underworld god Ördög. He gave the stone the power to play on our worst instincts, our selfish insecurities.

  And that’s when I know the stone has got to go.

  Quickly, I shove it under the comforter, as if that is going to help. Somehow the stone can sense my change of heart.

  Really? You’d give up the chance to have it all? Your every desire fulfilled?

  But the only reason I went back for the stone in the first place was to make sure Lipstick didn’t use it to ruin a world I really like. I already have everything I want. I mean, sure, I’d like a kitten, but that’s beside the point.

  I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work. Not on me.

  I’m trying to help you. I thought you were the kind of person who understood that.

  You thought wrong.

  Giving EmoJabber a wide berth, I call Jin directly. He loops in Hannah. “Sorry to call so early on a Saturday,” I say. “But we’ve got problems.”

  “Didn’t we just solve our problems?” Jin asks.

  “Lola probably made more.” Hannah yawns.

  “I went to the house,” I blurt. “I have the stone. But we have to get rid of it. It’s bad.”