The Green Beans, Volume 4: Shipwrecked on Smuttynose Island

by Gabriel Gadget

The keeper was a savage man, unkempt beyond words. As Neil and Jack gazed upon his wild face, they wondered how they would ever accurately describe what they had seen to their friends, should they manage to escape from Smuttynose Island and make it back home.

  Thick, black hair sprung from his head in a knotty mess. A matching beard of black covered his face, spilling toward his chest and protruding from his cheeks like a dark, wiry cloud. It appeared that not the faintest effort had been made to tame that wild head of hair, nor to style that unruly beard.

  The skin of his face was deeply tanned, and smudged with dirt that made him darker still. An abundance of wrinkles populated his forehead and the areas around his eyes. He had clearly led a most difficult life, and the years of sun and saltwater had taken a terrible toll upon his complexion, making it impossible to guess his age, though he was almost certainly bound to be younger than he looked.

  “Whoa,” Neil muttered, turning his head to speak in a low voice to Jack, who stood behind him on the bridge. “Talk about your rough customers, huh? It’s been a while since this fellow has seen a bottle of shampoo! A stop in the ol’ barber’s chair might do him some good.”

  The keeper sighed with exasperation. “I can still hear you, you know! Mind your tongue, boy, and show some respect for your elders!”

  “Uh, I was just saying to my friend here that we might be able to offer you a treasure beyond your wildest dreams,” Neil said. “It’s called shampoo, and I assure you, it would be much more valuable to you than our robot’s head!”

  “Perhaps a nice bar of soap, as well?” Jack suggested.

  “Silence, you impudent whelps!” the keeper barked. “I won’t be swindled by such paltry offers!”

  The boys had been taken aback by the revelation of the keeper’s savage face, and they stared in wonder and curiosity. As they took in more detail, they noticed small cylinders were buried among the mass of the keeper’s hair and beard, sticking out this way and that. The cylinders had long wicks, making them appear to be rudimentary candles.

  After a moment’s study, however, it became clear they weren’t candlewicks, after all… they were fuses.

  “Is that… is that dynamite in your beard?” Neil asked, his eyes growing wide with amazement. “I don’t know why anybody would stroll around with dynamite stuck in their beard, but I have to admit… that is a pretty awesome fashion statement.”

  “Bah! You wouldn’t understand!” the keeper said, waving his hand dismissively.

  “Be that as it may, we’d love to hear your story. I’m sure we could learn so much from you,” Jack said, trying to keep him talking.

  “I’m the spitting image of my legendary ancestor, though I wouldn’t expect an uneducated pair of louts such as the two of you to recognize me! And I wouldn’t waste my efforts on teaching you - I believe it’s nigh impossible to get past the defenses of your hard heads and impaired ears.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Neil responded enthusiastically.

  “That wasn’t a compliment, boy!”

  “Who can say for sure?” Neil argued.

  The keeper sighed once more, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “This…” he muttered to himself. “This, right here, is exactly why I never had children. They’re impossible.”

  “Nah, we can be trained, just like any other unruly creature!” Neil said, winking at Jack.

  The keeper shook his head and fixed his eyes on the boys. They were dark like his beard, those eyes, yet they sparkled with something that contrasted his old, weather-beaten appearance. They twinkled with an intangible quality that was something like… passion for adventure, if the boys had to call it by a name.

  It was a passion that Neil and Jack had no trouble recognizing, for it burned bright within their own hearts. Perhaps, they thought, they had something in common with this crazed keeper of the island, after all. Maybe it would be possible to reach an understanding, should they be able to continue the dialogue.

  “Enough!” the keeper bellowed in his gravelly voice. “I’ve entertained you fools for too long as it is.”

  “Um… is that up for debate?” Neil inquired. “I think you might be able to entertain us for quite a bit longer, if you really applied yourself.”

  The keeper produced a fine looking weapon from within the confines of his robe, brandishing it with a flourish. It was an elegant sword, featuring a highly polished blade with a slight curve. The sword had an ornate, jewel-encrusted pommel that wrapped around the hand of its owner, forming a protective shield over his knuckles.

  “Uh… if I may be so bold as to inquire… what exactly were you intending to do with that thing?” asked Jack.

  “Did you think I was going to stand here and let you talk until you had made it all the way across this bridge?” asked the keeper.

  “Um, yes, actually. We did think that,” Neil admitted. “Say, you might be a tad sharper than we initially gave you credit for, you know that? How about if we all sit down and play a few rounds of checkers or something? That’s always a good workout for the ol’ noggin. What do you say?”

  The keeper grinned, and when he did so, he revealed a mouth that was fit to haunt even the bravest of dentists. There were several gaps where teeth had gone missing, but of those that remained, many were crooked or artificially constructed from gold. Morsels of food were wedged between the remaining teeth, awaiting floss that would most likely never be administered, and the gums were blackened from neglect.

  Neil, having been imbued with a powerful sense of responsibility when it came to the care of one’s chompers, was very disappointed by this. “Gears and sprockets! Remember what I said about him needing to get to a barber for a shave and a haircut?” he asked Jack. “I actually think he needs to get to the dentist as a first priority.”

  The keeper sneered at the boys, apparently unconcerned with their judgment of his dental hygiene. He waved the sword in lazy arcs through the air as he spoke, and the blade made a sharp whish with each stroke.

  “One way or the other, I mean to see to it that you leave my island. If this is the only way to accomplish that goal, then so be it. Your time upon Smuttynose has expired, boys.”

  To the dismay and disbelief of Neil and Jack, the keeper raised the sword high. He held it above the ropes that secured the ancient bridge to its anchors on safe ground. The ropes were already rotting and frayed, and it would not take much effort to cut through them. The sword in the keeper’s hand looked more than capable of accomplishing the task.

  “Whoa, now, let’s not do anything rash!” Jack said, his voice rising in alarm. He looked down at the fast moving water that waited below, should the bridge be destroyed.

  Nibbler had begun barking wildly, and pacing back and forth on his side of the ravine. Murphy was jumping up and down, shaking his tiny fists at the keeper and squeaking in protest.

  “Don’t do this, man!” Neil begged. “We can bring you toothpaste! Toothpaste, I tell you!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A Diabolical Deed