Floors #2: 3 Below

by Patrick Carman

  “I’m afraid so,” said Merganzer, crouching down beside Leo and Remi. “Very important work to do, can’t wait. Tonight will have to be enough for now.”

  “For now?” asked Leo, a rise in his voice at the idea that maybe a day was coming when they might be together on an adventure again.

  Merganzer only smiled, but the smile was enough to cheer the hearts of the two boys. It told them all they needed to know: Someday they would spend entire days with Merganzer D. Whippet.

  “I may have a need or two,” said Merganzer, standing up and staring down at Leo and Remi. “Rather soon, in fact.”

  “We’re ready now!” said Remi.

  “I do like your enthusiasm. Await my instructions; it won’t be long now.”

  Mr. Powell was already climbing up one of the rope ladders, like he was late for an important meeting. He was unexpectedly swift for an older man with a potbelly.

  “Come along, Merganzer,” he yelled down from the cab. “The wind has shifted to our advantage. It’s time to go.”

  Merganzer took one last look around, tapped Betty on the head, and raced up the ladder with alarming speed and efficiency. Just before he reached the top, he turned once more to the crowd.

  “It’s the loveliest wedding I’ve ever seen. You’ve done the Whippet proud.”

  “Merganzer, we really must be off,” said Powell, reaching down toward his companion of so many years.

  When Merganzer D. Whippet was in the cab, the rope ladders were released and the blimp began to rise. Against all matters of science and nature, it moved against the wind, but it didn’t surprise Leo or Remi one bit.

  “He can go wherever he pleases in that thing,” said Leo. “He’s not fooling me.”

  “Me neither,” said Remi, folding his arms across his chest. He paused a moment, glancing at Leo out of the corner of his eye. “When do you think he’ll need us?”

  Leo shrugged. He had no idea. Soon could mean hours, days, years. One never knew with Merganzer D. Whippet.

  Merganzer leaned out of the cab as it sailed away, and yelled one more thing to Pilar.

  “Look inside the hat!”

  He waved and was gone, the blimp passing behind a building and up into the night sky on its way to secret places only Merganzer and Mr. Powell knew.

  “Maybe it’s taped to the inside,” Leo heard his dad say. They were having trouble finding a gift inside the top hat.

  “I think you’re right!” Pilar said, reaching her arm way down inside (it was a very tall hat) and taking hold of a black envelope. When she pulled, the hat collapsed in on itself, flattening out like a pancake.

  “Weird hat,” Captain Rickenbacker said, standing at the ready just in case it was part of an evil plot designed to strip him of his superpowers.

  Leo divided his attention between the stacks on the gift table and the people gathered around the hat shouting, “What is it? What is it?” The gift table was long, and Blop was at one end along the edge, rolling around as Leo picked up different boxes and shook them.

  “It’s a letter,” Leo heard Pilar say, which got his attention. Merganzer’s letters always led to something interesting. Looking up at Clarence, Pilar held out the black envelope. Merganzer D. Whippet had wild handwriting that could be difficult to read, but Clarence Fillmore knew it well. He’d been reading Merganzer’s maintenance notes for years.

  While Clarence opened the letter and everyone waited breathlessly for what was inside, Blop discovered something unexpected on the gift table.

  “This one isn’t for the bride and groom,” he said. The robot had come across a brown, leathery-looking envelope with a red wax seal. “It has your name on it,” Blop told Leo, but Leo wasn’t listening. “And Remi’s, too.”

  Blop talked so much that most people chose to tune him out. He was like background noise in a coffee shop. Which was why Leo hadn’t heard about the brown leathery envelope with the red wax seal. He was, instead, listening to his dad as he read the letter from Merganzer D. Whippet.

  “‘Go to the south side of the roof and look down. Your carriage awaits.’”

  Every single wedding guest ran to the south side of the building and leaned out, searching the grounds for whatever the letter might be referring to. Leo couldn’t be sure, but it almost felt like the top of the hotel bent down toward the ground as everyone crushed to one side. Was that even possible? He was reminded once more of the many ways the Whippet Hotel could surprise him.

  “Sir, did you hear what I said?” Blop had rolled back down the long gift table and was now staring up at Leo, trying to get his attention, but Clarence had arrived at the side of the building with everyone else as they caught their breath and pleaded with him to keep reading. Below, at the entrance to the Whippet Hotel, were two large horses and a carriage sparkling with thousands of white lights.

  “Um . . . okay . . .” Clarence said, looking again at the letter. He’d already read it to himself and, taking Pilar’s hand, he read it out loud so everyone could hear.

  “‘It’s time Pilar showed you her part of the world in style. A seven-day cruise through the Mexican Riviera should do it. All the plans are in order, everything is paid for. Leave the kids behind, as they’ll be busy running the hotel in your absence. Your flight leaves tonight! Away to your packing!’”

  Remi had arrived alongside Leo, and the two of them glanced at each other with a mischievous grin. No parents for a whole week and the entire hotel to explore? It was exactly what they both wanted to hear.

  “No one’s staying in the Flying Farm Room,” Remi whispered.

  “And Captain Rickenbacker will totally let us play pinball,” Leo whispered back.

  Blop kept on talking about the envelope, but there was a lot of commotion drowning him out. Besides, Leo and Remi were too busy thinking about all the fun they were going to have as soon as their parents left the country.

  It took some convincing to get Pilar on board. She desperately wanted to go, but it was so extravagant, and she’d never left Remi alone for an entire week. But Remi insisted it was no big deal, he’d be fine, and the bridesmaids were practically bursting with excitement. Soon they were all hurrying down to the carriage for a closer look, leaving Remi and Leo to plot their plans in peace on the roof.

  “Is there any chance either of you might listen to me, because if there’s not, I’d like to get back in Remi’s pocket and take a nap,” Blop complained.

  “What’s that you say?” asked Leo, finally looking down at the chattering little robot.

  “I said there’s a gift on this table that’s not for the bride or the groom. It’s for you and Remi.”

  “Really?” Remi said, taking a keen interest. “Maybe it’s candy or comic books.”

  Leo told Blop to lead the way, and the two boys followed until they came to the envelope.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Leo asked Remi.

  “I sure am,” said Remi.

  Leo picked up the envelope and gently broke the wax seal.

  “Mr. Powell must have left it here,” said Remi. “He’s sneaky.”

  Leo popped the wax seal off the envelope and pulled out two things. One was a letter, the other a key card.

  “Whoa,” said Remi, taking the card and turning it in the soft light. “That’s the coolest hotel key card I’ve ever seen.”

  And it was. The card was black, but then it wasn’t. As Remi turned it in the light, the color changed from deep green to burnt orange and everything in between. When he held the card still, it went black once more.

  “Is there liquid inside that makes it do that?” Leo asked no one in particular.

  “I’d have to take it apart and examine the insides to find out,” Blop said. “Let me have a closer look.”

  But Remi knew better. If Blop got ahold of the key card, he’d waste no time trying to break it open and experiment with it. He had tiny arms and claws that were surprisingly good at destroying things.

  “It’s from
Merganzer,” said Leo, and his heart leapt. Maybe it wouldn’t be a quiet summer at the Whippet after all.

  “Hang on! Don’t read a word without me,” Remi said, running to the six-tiered wedding cake and loading up two glass plates. He returned and the boys sat on the grass.

  “Okay, here goes,” Leo said, taking a big bite of cake and then talking with his mouth full. The penmanship was even worse than normal, and Leo guessed that it was written from the blimp as it flew through the night sky, bumping along on gusts of wind.

  Dear Leo and Remi,

  I have a slight problem that will require a small favor, and I know you two are perfect for the job. My apologies for needing to get rid of your parents for a while, but it simply had to be done. They would never have let you go because the slight problem and the small favor are terribly dangerous. Parents can be so very . . . safe. It will be much easier if they’re not around.

  “This is starting to sound awesome.” Remi smiled and shoved a huge chunk of wedding cake into his mouth.

  The slight problem is embarrassing. I neglected to mention the state property taxes for the hotel. (Ms. Sparks always took care of such things, and it slipped my mind.) If memory serves, you owe about $700,000 for last year.

  “Uh-oh,” said Leo. “This is starting to sound not so awesome.”

  “Keep reading!” Remi begged.

  “Okay, okay,” Leo said, and went on:

  The key card will help you solve this little problem. And you’ll be able to do me that small favor. I need some things from the hotel subbasement. Important things. You’ll find them on the way, and some people, too. They will help you. I wish I could say more, but really, I shouldn’t. If you knew where this adventure was going, you wouldn’t do it. I’ve said too much!

  “He has a weird way of asking for favors,” Remi commented.

  And yet, it was somehow the perfect invitation. It would be dangerous, so much so that if they knew how dangerous they wouldn’t go at all.

  It was exactly what Leo and Remi needed to hear.

  “There’s a subbasement in the Whippet Hotel?” Leo couldn’t believe it was possible, an entire basement he knew nothing about.

  There was one more part at the end of the letter:

  Ask Betty, she’ll know what to do with the key card.

  Off with you now! Time is of the essence!

  Your friend,

  Merganzer D. Whippet

  It was bad enough they were expected to pay a year’s worth of back taxes Leo hadn’t planned for, but getting important information from a duck in order to use the key card? It was ridiculous.

  “Where are we supposed to get seven hundred thousand dollars?” asked Remi. He pulled out his nearly flat wallet and counted out the crumpled bills. “I have four bucks.”

  “I bet there’s plenty of money hidden in this place,” Leo said. “I just can’t believe there’s a basement we didn’t know about. I thought we knew this place inside and out.”

  In truth, Leo and Remi were about to discover just how little they really knew.

  Mr. Carp scratched his scruffy mustache nervously as he fidgeted in his chair. If Ms. Sparks had been able to grow a mustache, she would surely have grown it very long, with handlebars for twirling between her bony fingers. Sitting in her dank apartment across from a low-level, weasel-faced tax agent was making her day. Misery, it seemed, really did love company.

  “I don’t know how you do it, Mr. Carp. It must be murder in that office, shuffling papers all day, and no air-conditioning. It’s deplorable.”

  “They treat us like swine,” said Mr. Carp. He was glugging iced tea by the glass and eating the stale cookies Ms. Sparks had set on the table as if he hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before. Ms. Sparks took notice of the black grime under Mr. Carp’s fingernails and thought he must be a mechanic of some sort in his off time. And a bachelor for sure, without someone to tell him to wash his hands.

  “So we have a deal, then, am I right?” asked Ms. Sparks. It was all she could do not to jump up and down with excitement, but she had to play it cool. She couldn’t scare him off.

  “It’s very sensitive information, you understand,” he said. He’d already mentioned this fact eight or nine times, and it was starting to grate on Ms. Sparks’s nerves. Her fingernails tapped on the table but she kept her wits about her, the prize in sight.

  “Of course it’s sensitive, I completely understand. But you do want to get out of that basement, don’t you, Mr. Carp? And I can make that happen. I know just the person we’ll bring this offer to. He’s perfect.”

  “But are you sure you can trust him? I mean, it’s Merganz —”

  “Don’t say that name!” Ms. Sparks boomed. She’d managed to lose her cool after all. “I can’t stand that pointy-nosed ingrate!”

  Mr. Carp dropped the cookie he’d only just picked up.

  “I’m only saying,” he said, reaching delicately for one more cookie. Ms. Sparks’s evil eye bore down on his hand, and he pulled it back. “Well, it’s just, he’s very popular in the governor’s office.”

  “Of course he’s popular!” Ms. Sparks yelled. She could blow a person’s hair back with her voice. It was that big. But she calmed herself, brought her voice down, and continued. “Merganzer D. Whippet is lining the pockets of all those bureaucrats. He takes care of them. But what has Whippet ever done for you, besides leave you to rot in a basement? And me? HA! He never appreciated me, never gave me a dime I didn’t work double for. He’s worth billions! Trillions! Zillions! Don’t you want a piece of that, Mr. Carp? Don’t you deserve it?”

  Mr. Carp wanted to point out that Ms. Sparks had used Merganzer’s name a couple of times and he hadn’t been allowed to, but her eyes were bulging out of their sockets far enough that he thought they might shoot right out of her head. He didn’t like being bossed around, never had. But at least this time it might get him somewhere.

  He reached his hand out over the stale cookies and snatched up one more.

  “We have a deal,” he said.

  Ms. Sparks stared at Mr. Carp with a deep look of cold satisfaction. She would be the boss of this deal. He would do as she said. And if things worked out in the end, he’d get his reward.

  “Time for me to make a call,” she said, picking up the thick manila envelope Mr. Carp had brought with him.

  Mr. Carp glugged the last of his tea, snatched up two more cookies, and went for the door.

  “Be ready to move,” Ms. Sparks demanded, leaning forward toward him as she stood holding the door. “This is going to happen fast.”

  Mr. Carp nodded and moved out from under the shadow of the beehive hairdo. When he was on the other side of the door, he proceeded up the steps in the manner of a possum: low and nervous, like a truck might barrel through the alley at any moment and squash him flat.

  Before Leo and Remi could escape into the labyrinth of hidden Whippet Hotel tunnels, Mr. Phipps returned to the roof and ushered them both downstairs so they could say good-bye to their parents. It was a celebration and all — the carriage and the laughing and the well-wishing — but it took longer than either boy was happy about. They endured a prolonged debate between Pilar and Clarence Fillmore over whether they should stay or go. One minute they were in the carriage, the next they were mercilessly hugging the boys, overcome with guilt about leaving them behind. They were family now, and families stuck together.

  It was nice to be fussed about, but really, all Leo and Remi wanted to do was get rid of their parents for a week so they could go exploring in the hotel. The hotel was in a lull, with hardly any guests at all, so they could run free if only their parents would get out of the way. As the clock struck ten, they knew the secrets of the strange key card would have to wait until morning. If there’s one thing Leo wouldn’t do at the Whippet, it was bother Betty after ten. She was always grouchy at that hour and preferred biting over helping.

  Eventually the carriage pulled away with Pilar and Clarence Fillmore inside.<
br />
  The hotel grew quiet and peaceful.

  “This seems like a bad omen,” Remi said. Both boys had slept fitfully and woken early, leaving Blop to recharge for a few hours. Standing on the front steps of the hotel, eating leftover wedding cake and squinting into the morning sun, they watched as a black limousine rolled through the front gate.

  “Are we expecting someone?” Leo wondered out loud. He’d looked at the guest book and seen that it was, as was often the case, blank for the day. There were the long-stay tenants, but they knew how to navigate the weird world of the Whippet just like Leo and Remi did. And their checks never bounced, which was saying something, given the outrageous price of a stay at the hotel.

  “There’s only one family I can think of that would show up without a booking and start throwing money around,” Remi said.

  “The Yanceys,” Leo said, stuffing the last of the cake in his mouth and wiping his hands through his thick, curly hair.

  “That’s gross,” Remi complained. Remi was a big eater, but he was also a little bit of a neat freak.

  Jane Yancey popped out of the car holding a cherry Popsicle, which was dripping down the side of her arm.

  “I’m going up!” she yelled, throwing the Popsicle into the grass and racing for the front steps. No doubt she had been dreaming of the Cake Room all morning and couldn’t wait to get her hands into some frosting.

  “Hello, Jane,” Remi said. He was not a fan of spoiled, demanding seven-year-olds, and Jane was a pro at both.

  “Out of my way, stupid!” she said, barreling by Leo and Remi like she owned the place, and giving Remi a sharp elbow to the gut for good measure on her way past. Leo turned and nodded at Ms. Pompadore, who was running the front desk in Pilar’s absence.

  “Let’s see how long they’re staying,” Leo said. “Play it cool, bro.”

  Remi nodded as Nancy Yancey, Jane’s mother, glided out of the car in a red silk dress that looked like it might have cost more than the limo. He made a mental note not to allow Captain Rickenbacker near Mrs. Yancey, at least for today. The Captain was known to shoot paint-balls at large, moving red things.