Daisy’s face broke into a grin that looked a bit devious. She rubbed her pudgy hands together and said, “Hee hee hee. Excellent. Meet me in the bathroom in fifteen minutes.”
It took every last Toddlian to haul The Exodus into the bathroom by cotton threads from Todd’s frayed old Y-fronts. When we finally reached our destination, Daisy was waiting. Upon seeing the ark, she cooed and cackled and did her happy spinning stomp dance.
The Adorable One picked up the ark and studied it. “What unusual lines, Herman. What craftsmanship!” Then she gave it a sniff and said, “Is that Dubble Bubble between the planks? Your ingenuity knows no bounds!”
Daisy carefully set The Exodus on the fluffy pink toilet seat cover, then picked up a red toy boat from the floor. “Note the differences of the two crafts.” She held both boats aloft. “My red plastic tugboat tubby toy is a mere sham of a ship compared to the detail and character of your fine watercraft. It simply delights the senses! But we must set aside its aesthetic qualities; the real test will be how she sails!”
Her Adorableness set the boats on the bathtub edge and flipped up the drain lever. She turned the cold handle. Water shot out of the faucet, and she broke into a ritual chant about an itsy-bitsy spider, which gave the enterprise a chilling and mysterious accompaniment. Persephone readied her lasso, in case we encountered the beast.
Herman had filled stretchy tan bags (made from nylon stockings he had discovered one night as they soaked in the bathroom sink) with grains of sand from Daisy’s sandbox to represent the different weights of the creatures that would be joining us on our trip. Daisy placed the sandbags in the hold and then allowed us to climb onto her hand and ascend the gangplank of The Exodus.
We filed onto the deck. I was careful to find a place near the side where I could grip the floss handles that lined the rails. Once we were all safely on board, Herman waved to Daisy. The Adorable One shrieked with unrestrained glee as she dropped us in the rapidly rising water.
My stomach flipped as the boat fell into the bathtub. We hit the water with a mighty SPLASH! that sent us all rolling across the deck. I crawled to the nearest floss handles and pulled myself to my knees as the boat plummeted up, then dove down through the choppy waves. As soon as I was able to stand, my neighbor slammed into me, knocking me off my feet again. Cold water sloshed over the side, dousing me and everyone else on board. We were all screaming for mercy, and I, for one, was ready to get back on dry linoleum and scrap the entire operation.
The boat careened crazily in circles, whirling dangerously close to the violent waterfall gushing out of the faucet. The contents of my stomach lurched into my mouth with the mad spinning. The retchfest that followed was most unpleasant. Apparently I was not the only Toddlian experiencing seasickness!
We cried for Daisy to turn off the water, but she was singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” at such an earsplitting volume that there was just no chance she could hear us. Soon the inevitable happened: the boat spun under the cascade of the faucet and began taking on water. The thundering gush pummeled our craft, tilting the deck wildly downward and hurling several of us overboard. I screamed, clinging to the floss handle and yelling for my fellow unfortunates to hang on to me. We made a Toddlian chain, and the last of us grabbed hold of the ship’s helm, which was spinning uncontrollably.
“Throw the sandbags overboard!” Herman cried as the ark spun away from the faucet. That was easier said than done, since the boat was listing heavily on the port side. We frantically tossed what bags we could over the sides of the boat, heaving with nausea all the while.
Daisy, meanwhile, did not notice our plight. “MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY,” she crooned, turning in mad circles like a dervish. “LIFE IS BUT A DREAM!”
By this time the water was even with the top of the tub. We were rushing at a horrifying speed to the edge. Our doom seemed imminent!
“I don’t want to die!” little Milly cried. We clung to each other, tumbling down the deck toward the churning water …
“GENTLY DOWN THE STREAM!” our oblivious helper caterwauled.
Even if we managed to stay aboard the ark, the water was now up to our necks, and the boat was careening toward the edge of the bathtub—and with it, our certain doom.
“GREAT TODD, HAVE MERCY ON US!” I screamed into the growing mist.
But it was not Great Todd who saved us.
It was a rubber ducky. Or more precisely, The Adorable One via a rubber ducky. With her song over, she finally heard our cries. She set the yellow duck toy in the water and then held it steady while we clambered onto its flat back. When my turn came to climb aboard, the back and wings were full, so I wrapped my arms around a plastic tail feather and held on for dear life, my legs dangling in the frigid water. Persephone helped the weaker Toddlians out of the sinking ark and onto the duck’s head. She was the last to board the life craft and took her perch upon the bill.
Daisy, humming happily, lifted the duck out of the water and set it gently on the toilet lid. We jumped off and began to dry our shivering selves on the fluffy fibers of the toilet seat cover.
But no sooner were we rescued than the still-running water splashed over the edges of the bathtub, creating another massive, rushing waterfall. We were safe on the toilet seat, but the sound was overpowering! In a few moments we gasped as the sodden Exodus plunged over the edge and floated toward the toilet, coming to rest behind it. Daisy danced and splashed with wild abandon in the water that now covered the bathroom floor. But her rejoicing was short-lived.
Within seconds, The Adorable One’s mother threw open the door and stood frozen with a laundry basket balanced on her hip. Water gushed over her feet as she surveyed the flooded bathroom. Her normally lovely face contorted into something inhuman and evil. We had been shivering with cold, but now, we quaked from fear.
“DAISY LORRAINE BUTROCHE!” the mother bellowed. “What. Are. You. Doing?” She waded through the water to turn the faucet off and open the drain and then attempted to pick up the now howling toddler with her free arm.
Daisy transformed herself into a wet noodle and slid out of her mother’s grasp to the floor, where she suddenly regained use of her limbs, kicking and pounding the wet linoleum.
The mother slapped herself in the forehead. “Do you know there’s water pouring from the basement ceiling? DO YOU?”
Daisy’s response was to crawl to the wall and grab the towel from the rack. She then gave a terrifying shriek and threw it into the bathtub.
The mother’s eyes widened, and her nostrils flared. “You stop that right now, young lady, or no Yo Gabba Gabba! for a … a week!”
Daisy flung herself backward, thrashing about like the proverbial fish out of water. Which was ironic, since she was in quite a lot of water.
“Okay then, let’s try a month!” the mother screeched. We couldn’t hear the rest of what she said because by this point we were covering our ears to keep them from bleeding. The mother mopped up the floor, despite the flailing baby, then somehow managed to haul her to the nursery—to change her sopping clothes, I presumed.
We began our trembling descent from the toilet, sliding down Persephone’s floss lasso one at a time.
“AAAUUURRRGGGHHH!” the mother screeched from the nursery. Had she seen Daisy’s latest masterpiece, The Scream of Nature? I paused in my descent to catch my breath and consider the irony of the situation. Poor, unappreciated Adorable One. If only she did not possess such a fiery artistic temperament …
The commotion from the nursery sped our departure. We doggedly made our escape from the madness down the hallway. Todd’s room seemed like a million miles away, and we were extremely weak from our recent ordeal.
Herman was first to speak. “I think we will all agree that Daisy is too unstable in nature to be a reliable god, just in case anyone had been considering appealing to Her Adorableness.”
We were all in agreement on that point, at least. He continued, “While this was an uncomfortable experience—”
Herman acknowledged Persephone’s complaint with a solemn nod, then said, “The good news is, the experiment was not in vain. I have learned valuable lessons about the construction flaws of The Exodus and feel confident that once I make repairs, she will sail beautifully. We will recover the vessel once Todd’s maternal person is asleep. Luckily, it landed behind the toilet, and we must hope it will remain there undiscovered.”
I summoned my courage while the recent terror was a fresh memory. “I do not mean to subvert Herman’s leadership,” I said to my fellow travelers, “but surely the most valuable lesson we’ve learned this afternoon is how dangerous it is to act hastily.”
There were murmurs of agreement, and I glanced at the weary Herman. His jaw clenched, but he did not reply.
I pressed my point. “Herman, did you yourself not once say, ‘Quick decisions are unsafe decisions’?”
He sighed and nodded. “Though I owe the sentiment to Sophocles.”
I walked backward through the hallway fibers, addressing my friends. “All I’m asking for is another opportunity to reason with Todd. I feel sure he will see our distress and act accordingly. Please? Just give Todd one more chance.”
CHAPTER 10
The next afternoon, I stepped out of the locker room, took a deep breath of the chlorine-soaked air, and looked around for Charity. She waved me over from the bleachers. I waved back and started toward her.
But Max beat me to Charity’s side. He swaggered up to her in his Speedo and … sparkly feelers? … and started chatting her up.
Charity rolled her eyes at him. She looked like she needed rescuing. I shuffled her way a few steps, until I was close enough to hear what Max was spewing.
And he was literally spewing. “The best thing about Venessa is that she’s a bee, so she can sting her enemies but she never dies. Did you know that when bees sting, all their little guts get stuck … no, sucked out with their stingers? But Valerie’s not like that, she’s got a supernatural stinker … stinger.” He stopped to swallow his spit and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.
I think Charity would have laughed if it weren’t for the spit that had landed on her arm. She dried it with her towel and opened her mouth to say something, but Max cut her off. “Sorry about that, it’s just that I get sooo excited when I’m talking about Dragon Sensor, I kind of lose it a little!”
“Dragon Sensei,” Charity corrected.
“Right,” Max said, nodding so hard the headband slid off. He put it back on and said, “Maybe you could help me spruce up my Veronica costume. So far all I’ve got are these antennae and a pair of my mom’s pantyhose. I thought I could maybe stretch those over some tennis rackets or something for the wings.”
Veronica? What was he talking about? Then it hit me: Max Loving was trying to play … Vespa?!
Charity shot me a Can you believe this guy? glance. Her blue eyes were shining, and I could tell she was laughing inside as hard as I was.
“That’s all great, Max,” she said over her shoulder as she bounded down the bleachers. “But I really want to talk to Todd now.” Charity grabbed my hand and led me toward the cluster of kids who were warming up. I saw Max look my way and punch his fist into his palm. His raging bull face looked pretty silly under his pom-pom antennae, but I didn’t smile; I’d felt that fist around my neck.
Charity leaned over, causing her hair to tumble across my shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed in the tropical smell of her shampoo.
“So,” she said, twisting her hair into a shiny rope, “I thought Max seemed a little confused about a few things, didn’t you?” She straightened up and winked at me. I just grinned like a goober and watched her pink-tipped fingers hide all that hair under her silver swim cap. “And those antennae!” she whispered with dancing eyes. “I could hardly keep a straight face!”
Her nose wrinkled up so cute when she giggled. I wanted to stand there with her forever, just the two of us making fun of Max. But then Madame Dauphinee pierced through my personal paradise with a blast from her whistle. “Boys in first, s’il vous plaît!”
I must’ve looked confused because Charity whispered in my ear, “If you please.” Her breath tickled me all the way down to my toes. I felt like I was floating on a fluffy cloud as I snapped on my goggles and hopped into the water.
As soon as I got lined up in my lane, Max reached over and shoved his hands into my back, pushing me into the pool. Water shot into my sinuses, chlorine burning all the way. I came up gasping and sputtering.
Max leaned across the rope separating our lanes and said with mock sincerity, “Oh, that was an accident. I’m sooo sorry, Buttrock.”
I pretended I was Mongee-Poo and shot radiated “sludge” water out my nostrils and into Max’s face. “And I’m sorry too, Max. It’s so sad Charity didn’t buy your whole ‘I’m really into Dragon Sensei’ act.”
Max flinched like he was going to lunge at me, but then he seemed to realize that wasn’t going to work and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Doesn’t matter.” He slid his goggles from his cap to his eyes and gave me an evil grin. “I’ve got a little surprise planned that even Charity won’t be able to resist.”
With a curl of the lip, he splashed me in the face and then started swimming laps. I studied the waving blue W on the pool bottom. What could Max mean by a little surprise?
Practice went surprisingly well (except for Max trying to mess with me every thirty seconds) and was nearly done when suddenly I heard Max call out, “Madame D? I need to go do something.”
“Can this wait, Monsieur Loving?” Madame Dauphinee glanced at the clock on the wall. “Practice is almost over.”
He shrugged. “Oh, sure. People pee in the water all the time, right?”
A bunch of girls screamed. Madame Dauphinee scowled at Max and pointed in the direction of the boys’ locker room. Max took his time hefting himself out of the pool, and from the way he casually strolled into the locker room, it was obvious he didn’t have to go that bad.
For a few minutes I forgot about Max and focused on the freestyle drill Madame Dauphinee had me working on.
“You are made like a chocolate éclair, Monsieur Butroche—slim in the middle.” Madame Dauphinee flicked the water and made a swooshing rocket sound. “A tiny torpedo, that’s what you are, my friend. Now, swim! With more rotation!”
Though I was a total klutz on land, I was surprisingly pretty graceful in the water. It had to be natural talent, because I’d only made it through the Bitty Beta level in swim lessons at the Y.
Madame Dauphinee told me to keep practicing and asked Maya to watch over us while she went into her office to fix somebody’s busted goggles. I’d just done my flip turn and was starting into another lap when someone poked me in the side. I popped up to see Charity next to me, her mouth wide open. I whirled around in the water to see what she was pointing at. My mouth dropped open, too.
All the girls were screeching and scrambling to get out of the pool. A shimmery, oily film danced over the surface of the water, trailing away from Max, who stood at the edge of the pool, draped in a grungy green hooded bath towel. Raising the sides like bat wings, Max threw back his head, cackling crazily. “I TOLD YOU I WOULD BE BACK, OORA! NOW I WILL VANQUISH MY ENEMIES WITH WAVES OF FLAAAAME!”
“‘SharkTruese’s Showdown,’” I whispered. Those lines were straight out of my favorite Dragon Sensei episode! Max had got it right for once.
Charity gulped. “Which means he’s about to … AAAUUUGGGHHH!” she shrieked as Max bent over the water’s edge, slowly lowering a lit match to the oil.
WHOOMF! The water beneath Max exploded into little tongues of orange flame that started licking up the trail of shiny stuff. The fire wasn’t very big … yet. The people who were near the
flames screamed and jumped out of the pool like it was full of piranhas. Kids came running out of the weight room to see what the excitement was all about. It was total chaos.
Charity scrambled up the ladder with me right behind her. She tore up the cement to the other end of the pool, ripped the robe-towel off Max, and dunked it in the water, smothering the flames.
“What kind of nutcase are you?” Charity yelled, shoving Max’s chest. He wobbled a bit and then regained his balance. “Are you trying to kill us all?” She leaned over the pool’s edge and beat the small fire into oblivion.
Madame Dauphinee barreled out of her office, and the whole team rushed her and started shouting.
“Loving tried to set us on fire!” a skinny kid accused, pointing at Max, who swiveled his head around and sneered like a trapped tiger.
“The fire was at least six feet high,” somebody lied.
“Was not, it never even actually ignited!” somebody else insisted. That comment about started World War III, with most kids agreeing that however small, there had been flames.
Madame Dauphinee quivered all over, and her face turned bright red. She took a deep breath and blew her whistle, which was as good as a mute button on a remote. Everyone took a big step back. Even Max looked nervous.
I wasn’t sure what Coach Dauphinee was saying, but it sounded like she was swearing in French. When she calmed down enough to speak English, she pointed up into Max’s face and backed him onto a bleacher, talking the whole time. “I’m not sure what just happened, young man, but since you’re the only one holding matches, I assume you tried to set my swimmers on fire. I have ZERO TOLERANCE for such behavior, and I’ll have you know that if you don’t want a police escort out of here, you will never darken these waters with your presence again. You are no longer one of the WAVES. Place your cap and goggles in your locker, then leave the building.”
She stood on her tiptoes, and he bent away from her, plopping onto the bleacher. “And if this behavior keeps up, don’t think I won’t have you expelled just like I did your trouble-making big brother.”
In Todd We Trust Page 8
