by Peter Cox
“That’s a good idea,” I responded. “But it’s Sunday. The library’s closed, and I don’t know how to pick a lock.”
“You’re not alone anymore,” Sam said. “I’m sure one of our animal friends can help get us in.”
“Of course we can,” Basset said. “I’m not an expert at breaking and entering, but I’m sure we can figure a way in.”
“Then it’s settled,” Sam said. “We’re another step closer to getting your parents back, Nate. Don’t worry. We’re closer.”
We started walking back through the dark woods towards downtown.
“So who can help us out?” I asked.
“The squirrels?” Sam responded. “They can climb in through the window or slip in through a crack and unlock the door?”
Basset made a high-pitched whining noise and looked at me like his tail had gotten stepped on.
“Maybe we should hold off on the squirrels,” I laughed. “I think we might have used up all the help they’re willing to give for a long while.”
Sam nodded. “Okay then. What about the spiders?”
“We could get in easy enough,” William said. “Then I suppose we could rig up a pulley system made out of webs. Could have that door open in 20 hours or so.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work,” I said. “There’s not a ton of animals with thumbs. Getting that door open is gonna be a challenge and a half.”
“There’s a chimp down at the county zoo, but it’d be just as hard to break him out as it will be to break into the library,” Sam said. “Who else could turn a doorknob?”
“I have an idea,” I said. “It’s kind of crazy, but it might just work. Let’s go.”
I didn’t want to say it out loud, not yet. Saying it out loud they might laugh at me, or think I had gone insane with worry for my parents.
I led the group a little further east than we were originally heading, but we were still going in the general direction of downtown.
Just as the sun peeked its head over the horizon, we came to a small, muddy, swampy pond. The sun made the lily pads glisten like emeralds.
Basset and Sam both looked at me with confused faces.
“A fish?” Frank the spider asked. “Are we here for a fish?”
“Yeah, obviously,” I responded. “I’m gonna toss a salmon in through the library window and have him splash the door open.”
I’d have slapped him upside the head like William, but that would’ve killed him. Didn’t want to do that.
I liked Frank.
I bent down onto my hands and knees, looking straight into a log that was halfway in the water.
“C’mon out,” I said quietly. “I know you’re awake and can hear us. No point in hiding.”
I heard a plop, then a lot of heavy breathing, then anther plop, and finally Gerald the bullfrog came into view from inside the log.
“Good morning boys,” Gerald said in his usual tone, like a raspy grandfather who’s in the World Series of the Slow-Talking League. Which I really hope isn’t a thing. “What can I do for you this morning?”
Still kind of embarrassed by my idea, I bent down and whispered something to Gerald.
Frogs have extremely wide, bulging eyes all the time, so if you’ve never seen one surprised it’s a shocking sight. Gerald opened his eyes so wide it looked like they were about to shoot out of his head with a pop like two grapes being spat out of your mouth.
“Can you do it?” I asked.
“Well, I suppose.” Goodness, it was going to take forever just to get an answer from him. Maybe it would have been faster to build that pulley-web system. “I could. But it sounds exhausting.”
“Come on. You could do with a bit of exercise. You’re getting a little flabby around the middle.”
“And around the edges,” Sam laughed.
“Thank you,” Gerald responded. “We frogs take that as a compliment. Who wants to be skinny as a stick? Must be freezing.”
“Look, that’s not the point.”
“Well then what is? You want to see an old frog make a fool of himself and tucker himself out for your amusement?”
“His parents were kidnapped,” Basset said. “This is the only way to get them back.”
“Well then what are we waiting for?” Gerald said surprisingly quickly. “Let us make haste. To the library, as fast as we can.”
Then he hopped once.
I was a little surprised at how little convincing he needed, but he was a good-hearted frog, and good-hearted people (or animals) need very little convincing to help when something important is on the line. Like kidnapped parents.
He hopped again, then stopped, wheezing.
“And away we go,” he said, hopping once more. More wheezing.
“And again,” another hop and another wheeze-pause.
“Phew, we are making great time,” he said. “Be there by Wednesday at this rate!”
I rolled my eyes, and both Sam and Basset snickered.
I bent down and snatched Gerald off the ground.
“Hey now! Get your hands off me boy! This is extremely impolite! How would you like a giant to grab you and swing you around at a thousand miles per hour? I’m going to be sick. Unhand me boy!”
“Oh relax,” I responded.
“Certainly, you can say that now! But I’m about to hurl a load of half-digested flies up onto your hand.”
Gross.
“Don’t you dare,” I responded. “You behave and my friends the spiders will give you all the flies you can eat.”
“We will?” Frank asked. That got him another good smack on the head from William. He kept quiet.
“How can I think about food at a time like this?” Gerald sounded really sick.
“I said all the flies you can eat.”
He suddenly stopped. I knew he had been faking. “Well then what are we waiting for? Away we go! Mush giant! Mush!”
And away we went.
Chapter 33
SNEAKING IN
We made it to the library about a half-hour after sunrise (which, by the way, was a lot earlier than Wednesday). We snuck around to the back entrance and I put Gerald down on the top step.
He looked up above the door, where a small glass window (I think they call them “transom windows”) was cracked open.
“You really expect me to be able to do this?” Gerald asked. He sounded like he just wanted to sleep.
“Of course I do. You’re quite talented.”
“I can’t disagree with you there,” he said, puffing out his chest.
After his chest deflated, he looked doubtful again.
“All. The flies. You. Can. Eat.” Sam reminded him.
“Right. Well, cheerio. Up, up, and away!”
Gerald’s tongue flew out of his mouth at the speed of light, and with a loud snap it stuck to the door knob.
“What the-” Sam started, but before she could finish Gerald sucked his tongue back into his mouth just as fast as he’d struck at the handle. His fat blob of a body whipped up towards the handle, and just before he reached it he released his grip. His body kept spinning upwards past the knob like a green Frisbee made of fat.
Just before he could start falling back down, he snapped his tongue out again, this time at the top of the window.
Bullseye!
He sucked himself up again, and plopped down on the windowsill.
“Gerald, bullfrog acrobat extraordinaire, at your service,” he said with a flourish and a bow. “Now, to complete my trick,” and he hopped down and out of sight. From inside we could hear a loud splat.
“Ouch! Not to worry. Old Gerald is a lot better than that sounded.”
We heard another snap and a sticky ping from the doorknob. Then it turned on its own, and I grabbed it.
I swung the door outwards, and almost got smacked in the face by a swinging Gerald, whose tongue was still stuck to the doorknob. He quickly let go and landed on my shoulder.
“Goodness boy, could’ve warned
me you were going to open the door,” he laughed.
“See, I knew this would be fun,” I said. Basset and Sam were both staring at me with mouths gaping open and eyes wide with disbelief.
“I can’t really deny that,” he said. “Might have to make tumbling through the air a regular part of my life. Imagine the excitement in the life of a cat burglar. A bullfrog-burglar; that will become the new name!”
“What will your wife think of that?” I asked with a laugh.
“She can join me! Husband and wife acrobats are all the rage, I’m sure.”
I was glad this plan had worked. It would have seemed awfully ridiculous if it had failed. In fact, it seemed awfully ridiculous even when it succeeded.
Gerald stuck out his tongue slightly, with a look of distaste.
“Doorknobs are filthy though.”
“Yeah, and flies are so clean,” I laughed.
Gerald winked one bulbous eye at me.
“Well, time to explore! Let us away!”
Gerald clearly had a newfound energy coursing through his body. Excitement can do that. I was sure he’d be sore tomorrow.
He leapt from my shoulder and landed right on Basset’s back, grabbing hold of the collar like a horse’s reigns.
“Oh come on,” Basset said, looking up at me with a disappointed, longsuffering look.
“He can’t weigh that much!” Sam laughed.
“Fine. Just as long as none of the female goldens see me,” he said, quickly looking around the parking lot.
“I doubt there’s a lot of golden retrievers hanging around the empty library,” I said.
“Good point.” Basset sighed. “Got a good grip there, Gerald?”
“Comfy as a frog on a log,” he guffawed. “Or a frog on a dog, as the case may be.” He was having too much fun with this.
We walked in through the door, and when it swung shut we were alone in the darkened library.
Chapter 34
THE FINAL CLUES
The bookcases towered over us, casting all the aisles into deeper shadows. The place smelled like musty books and old ink, a smell I usually liked, but today reminded me of a grave.
We crept up to the librarian’s desk. It was littered with standard librarian gear: a stack of books to be put away, a few overdue book notices, and a line of dated ink stamps.
I opened the top drawer of the desk, which was full of pens and paper and more stamps.
The second drawer contained a small black appointment book.
I grabbed it and opened it on the desk. I highly doubted he would write down appointments for all of his robberies, but you never know.
The first few pages just said things like “Monday, 12:30, lunch with Pete,” and “Friday, 1:45, pick up dry cleaning.” Boring stuff.
The fifth page, though, had an entry that said “Saturday, midnight: rob pet store.”
Seriously?
“He’s no criminal mastermind, that one,” Sam said looking over my shoulder.
“He wrote down his crimes in a notebook and left it in his desk?” I asked, incredulous.
“Okay, maybe we’re not up against a ‘great darkness,’” Sam laughed. “More like a ‘slight dimming.’ Should we just bring this to the cops?”
“Yes,” Basset said without hesitation.
“I don’t know,” I said. “What if he hurts my parents?”
“How could anyone who leaves evidence like this lying around have eyes and ears everywhere?” Sam asked.
“How could someone like that kidnap my parents in the first place? Something’s not right here, and I don’t want to risk my parents’ safety.”
Sam nodded. “You’re right.”
We kept flipping through the book. There were more normal entries (“Saturday, 7 p.m., dinner with mom”), and here and there more appointments for crimes.
The one from two days ago said “10 a.m. - Nate is on to me. Brought my library access card in to me. He couldn’t read it, but poking nose into things.”
The next entry said “4 p.m. – kidnapped Nate’s parents. Taking them to the picnic area by Nightmare Lake, as instructed.”
“There we go!” I shouted. “We know where they are! Let’s go.”
“Hold on a second,” Sam said. “It says ‘as instructed.’ He’s not working alone.”
I paused.
“We’ll head down to the lake alright, but we can’t just rush down there like a herd of elephants,” she continued. “If he’s not alone, we could be in for a fight. We have to take it slow, sneak up on the lake, and scout it out.”
I turned to William. “Can you and your boys take a look down at the lake?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said. He looked scared. “We don’t go into that part of the woods.”
“What? Why not?”
“We just don’t. Please, do not ask any more. We don’t like to even talk about it. It is too horrific to even think about.”
I turned to Sam. “You’re right. I think we do need to be careful.”
Chapter 35
NIGHTMARE LAKE
We quickly headed back into the woods, thanked the spiders for all their help, and made our way towards the lake.
A place named Nightmare Lake might not sound like the best place for a picnic area, with that cheery name and all, but the politicians opened one there about 50 years ago.
The lake is calm and deep, the perfect place for a swim. The Native Americans named it “Nightmare Lake” because they believed it was haunted by evil spirits and tricksters, but the politicians called that “primitive superstition” and built a picnic and swimming area at the lake anyway.
It didn’t go well. Three rowboats sank in the lake the first year, and though no one was hurt, the boats were never found again.
Then the next year four kids almost drowned in the lake. Again no one was seriously hurt, but the kids terrified everyone in town. All four of them said they felt like a rope had tightened around their legs and was trying to drag them down into the black depths of the lake. It was only at the last second that the rope loosened and let them go.
The politicians called it “childhood hogwash,” but the villagers weren’t having it.
Just like the Native Americans, people in Grant County started to believe the lake was haunted. Over the past 50 years the picnic area had fallen into disrepair, the benches and tables sagging with age.
I’d been there once when I was exploring (my dad didn’t believe in hauntings, so he let me go). I was a little nervous to go swimming in a lake alone (not because it was haunted, of course), so I just poked around. There were some rocks with strange drawings on them, but nothing else that interesting.
As we walked, Gerald bouncing up and down on Basset’s back and jiggling with every step, Sam turned to me, a concerned look on her face.
“Look, I don’t want to scare you, but I think we’re up against something pretty serious here,” she said.
“What do you mean? Mr. Barston doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d want to hurt anyone, and even if he did want to, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who could.”
“He’s not alone, remember? And I have an idea of who we’re up against.”
“Who?” I was shocked she hadn’t mentioned anything earlier.
“You really weren’t paying attention in Mr. Grimley’s history class, were you?”
“What has that got to do with anything? And why were you paying attention? No one pays attention.”
She blushed.
“Ohhhh, you’ve got a little crush on him.” I patted her on the back. “It’s okay. Happens to the best of us.” That didn’t seem to help much. “So why does it matter?”
“Greek mythology? Athena? The Lakota Indian tribe? You don’t remember any of it?”
“Not really.” I still didn’t see where this was going.
“Like I said, I don’t want to scare you, so I’m going to keep my theories to myself for now. Just keep your eyes open. If I’m
right, we’ll really need to be on the lookout.”
She was doing the exact opposite of not scaring me. She was freaking me out. I looked up into the branches of the trees and into every shadow and behind every rock as we walked, but I didn’t notice anything unusual.
I turned and looked at Basset. My hands were shaking and my palms were all sweaty from the nerves. I felt like I was about to go on a roller coaster.
You know, if a roller coaster wanted to kill me and my parents.
“I have to admit, I’m a little scared,” I said.
“Me too,” Sam whispered.
“It’s embarrassing, but I can’t stop being afraid. What if we mess up? What if we get hurt, or worse, if my parents get hurt? I wish I had more courage.”
Basset stopped and looked me right in the eyes.
“True courage doesn’t mean you’re not afraid,” he said. “It means that doing the right thing outweighs your fears. True courage is selfless.”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Listen,” he continued. “Porcupines aren’t good playmates, but a lot of dogs still poke their noses into porcupine holes. Ignoring the fear of porcupines isn’t brave, it’s stupid. But if another dog needs to be protected from a porcupine, that’s when you push past the fear. True courage isn’t ignoring your fear for no reason. True courage is putting someone else ahead of yourself, even if you’re afraid. That’s what we’re doing today.”
Sam straightened her shoulders.
“We’re going to rescue your parents,” she said. “And the whole town. That’s worth the risk.”
I nodded back.
“We can do this. Together.”
Around noon we came to the old dirt road that led up to the picnic area. The path was choked with weeds and brush, and even some smaller trees, but you could tell it used to be a popular road. The ruts were still deep, and a few rusty signs still waved in the wind.
“Okay, the picnic area is just around that corner up there, right?” I pointed ahead to where the road curved to the left. Sam nodded. “So let’s cut through the woods here quietly. The bushes around the clearing are thick, so we should be able to peek out without anyone seeing us coming.”
