by Steven Bohls
“You seem to know a lot about those creatures.”
She leaned closer and whispered, “They’re looking for me. They want to catch me.” She leaned back and grinned, the volume returning to her voice. “But I’m too sneaky. Sneaky like a mouse. Stupid scritcherings look and look but they’re too clumsy to snatch mice.”
“Why do they want to catch you?” the captain asked.
Shay smiled. “I like you,” she said. “You’re a smart mouse. I bet you’re a fun mouse.”
Captain Bog looked at Jed. “What do you think, Jed? Am I a fun mouse?”
“Oh, tons of fun. I’ve never had so much fun. He even threw me a funeral party.”
Shay clapped her hands. “I knew it. I knew it. I do love fun mice.”
Captain Bog drew a deep breath. “So,” he said, and then exhaled all at once, “Jed here says you know something about his watch.”
“Oh, yes.”
“He told us that you said it could make someone stronger.”
“Nope,” she said. “That’s not what I said.”
“No?”
“I said it could make you very strong. Mouse king! Mouse king of the whole junkyard!”
“How?”
“It leads you to treasure.”
Captain Bog’s eyes brightened with an I knew it expression.
“Riggs knows where to go,” he said. “But how will we find the treasure when we arrive?”
She laughed with a squeak. “You don’t need to find the treasure, silly. It will find you.”
Captain Bog cleared his throat. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Shay.”
She stepped forward.
The crew looked at one another.
Kizer cocked his head. “I don’t understand. Where did she come from? Is that what you traded from the tinker?”
The captain’s eyes shifted, and he cleared his throat again. “She was part of the steamboat crew. She snuck on board when we landed.”
Chatter swept through the crew.
“She what?”
“A stowaway?”
“How?”
“She’s been here the whole time?”
“Where was she hiding?”
“Who is she?”
“What are you going to do with her?”
The captain waved both arms in the air. “Everyone calm down. We’re not doing anything with her for now. I made a deal with Jed that—”
“Jed. Of course,” Kizer mumbled.
“It seems we found ourselves a bit of luck,” the captain continued. “She, Jed, and Riggs gave us a location that might lead to treasure.”
“Treasure?”
“What treasure?”
“Where are we going?”
“How do you know they’re telling the truth?”
“Everyone shut their mouths long enough for me to speak!” the captain yelled. “The tinker offered Jed twenty thousand batteries for his little wristwatch—and don’t all you start babbling again!” he said before the chatter could continue. “It’s given a heading, and we’re going to go see what’s worth twenty thousand batteries. All right?”
With that Captain Bog turned and walked away.
After a barrage of questions and awkward introductions, a feeling of excitement buzzed through the ship. Pobble played bright songs on his fiddle, Riggs whistled in the engine room, Sprocket spun shatterboxes on her fingers for hours, and even Kizer seemed to forget how much he hated Jed.
And after a song-filled day of flight, Sprocket called from the lookout, “We’re coming up on the coordinates, Captain!”
The crew gathered at the front of the ship. Jed gripped the railing and peered all around. The junk didn’t look any different from any other junk. Nothing stood out, not in the air and not on the piles. The watch’s hands stood still.
“Slow to one-quarter speed,” Captain Bog called.
“One-quarter speed!” Sprocket said.
The hum of the engines wilted to a low rumble, and the ship slowed.
Captain Bog scanned the sky. He took out his own watch and grumbled a single hmm. “What time do you have, Riggs?” he asked.
Riggs removed a rusty pocket watch. “Seven fifty-eight.”
Captain Bog’s lips scrunched together like a coil of twine. “Seven fifty-eight…” He glanced at Shay. “I thought you said the treasure would come to us?”
She nodded eagerly. “It’ll be a wonderful surprise.”
They waited in total silence for the two minutes, which felt like ten. No one moved. No one breathed. The captain’s watch ticked. Tick, tick, tick. He shifted in place. His toes squirmed, causing the tips of his boots to rise and fall. He chewed his lip and scratched his scars.
The second hand ticked and ticked until, finally, it reached twelve.
Nothing happened. No ray of light illuminating a box of gold. No giant message in the clouds. Nothing.
“Riggs!” Captain Bog shouted.
“Aye, Captain, I’ve eight o’clock as well.”
A whirring sensation quivered in Jed’s wrist. “Captain,” he said. “The watch.”
The six hands spun.
Captain Bog grabbed his wrist. “Where is it? Where is the treasure? How could we have missed it?” He glared at his own watch. His fingers tightened around it, and Jed thought he might chuck it off the ship. “What happened to the treasure?” he asked again, turning to Shay.
Her face beamed with delight, and she rocked in place. She bit her bottom lip and giggled.
“Well?” The captain clutched his watch so tightly, his palm turned white. “Where is it?”
She clapped her hands, then opened her arms, closed her eyes, and spun in place. “It’s all around you!”
Captain Bog looked frantically in every direction. “I can’t see anything!”
“Boom!” Shay yelled.
A second later, thunder cracked through the sky. The crew stood frozen. Another crack shattered the empty air.
Sprocket’s hand leaped to the butt of her shatterbox.
A cool breeze fluttered over the ship. Captain Bog spun in place, as if some giant, invisible enemy were looming over him.
And then Sprocket yelled, “Junkstorm!”
The captain sucked in a breath. “Sprocket, get us out of here! Go! Now!”
Sprocket bolted to the helm. The rear propeller whirred to life, and Bessie lurched forward.
“Faster!” Captain Bog yelled. “Riggs, engine room!”
Sprocket jammed a lever into place. The gears in the ship’s hull whined as motors spun wildly.
The cool breeze washed over the deck of the ship, this time hitting with enough force to knock Jed off-balance. He gripped a cable from the smokestack and held tight.
The white clouds darkened into gray. They swirled together, and the color blackened.
“Riggs!” the captain yelled through the floor. “I don’t care if Bessie’s engine won’t work for a month—you get her moving!”
Sprocket yanked on the helm controls, and Bessie shot forward. The gears screeched as the propeller spun faster still, its blades now a translucent blur.
The deck rattled under the added pressure.
The massive black cloud above tightened in on itself and began to swirl, bathing them in shadow.
A cone poked down from its center and widened into a funnel.
Wind slapped the ship and threw Jed to the railings. He clutched the bars and peered over the boat. The junk below rattled against the wind.
“Sprocket, up ahead!” Kizer shouted.
Junk began falling from the black clouds like giant metal raindrops.
A ladder flipped through the sky, end over end. It smacked the side of the boat and disappeared below. A tape measure clattered on the deck. And then a candle. And a coat hanger. And—
“Watch out!” Jed yelled as a washing machine headed straight for them. At the last second, Sprocket pushed a lever and Bessie jerked to the side. The washer flew by Jed’s face with a dense
whoosh.
“Shatterkegs on the main deck, now!” Captain Bog shouted.
Pobble and Kizer sprinted to the lower deck.
Shay still spun and giggled, in a manic dance.
A dark object flipped through the sky directly over the bridge.
“Piano!” Jed yelled.
Sprocket yanked a lever. Bessie turned, but the piano clipped the side of the ship, ripping off railing and a chunk of the deck.
A vacuum cleaner plummeted toward Jed. He dove, and it crashed beside him. Before he could stand up, a tray of silverware pelted the deck, and a spoon smacked him in the head. He wrapped his arms around a smokestack cable.
“Make way!” Kizer called. He and Pobble hefted a shatterkeg up the stairs. They returned for a second one, which they rolled to Captain Bog.
“Stand them up on their ends and get them into the mounts!” the captain yelled. “Jed, get over here and help!”
His voice was muffled by the wind and colliding junk tumbling through the air. Jed grabbed one of the barrels. With the captain’s help, he propped it up until it pointed at the sky. They hugged the gun as the ship rocked against the wind.
Captain Bog reached to the deck and lifted a small hatch. He pushed the shatterkeg with his hip until it clicked into the opening.
Pobble, Kizer, and Shay lifted the second one into another mount.
“Nothing hits this ship!” the captain said. The others nodded—Shay with a smile.
“Train car, twenty degrees starboard!” Kizer yelled.
The front car of a train emerged from the black spiral. It turned slowly in the air. “Wait for it,” Captain Bog said. “Wait for it….”
Kizer cranked a lever on his shatterkeg, and a series of buttons lit up. When the train car was nearly on top of them, the captain yelled, “Fire!”
Kizer slammed his fist into one of the buttons. The shatterkeg whistled. A cracking sound ripped through the air. A column of blue dust appeared from the tip of the barrel and ended at the train car. The massive car broke into pieces.
The captain yanked a lever, and their shatterkeg’s buttons lit up. One of them was red. Jed’s heart skipped a beat. If there was ever a time to trust his parents—now was it. He punched it.
A crack sounded, and a column of blue particles painted a line through the sky.
Captain Bog searched the open air. He steadied the shatterkeg—still searching the sky.
“What was that for?” he yelled.
“I—I thought I saw something.”
“Don’t touch the controls! If you even—”
Before the captain could finish, the button turned red again. Jed threw his palm against it. The shatterkeg whistled.
Out of nowhere, a rogue Jacuzzi tumbled up over the side of the ship—heading straight for the bridge. The shatterkeg fired, and the blast slammed into the Jacuzzi, bursting it to pieces.
The others froze and stared at Jed as ceramic tiles clattered harmlessly around them. Captain Bog nodded once. Jed nodded back.
The thunder grew closer as more junk hit the ship. Objects beat against the hull, making terrible splintering sounds. Captain Bog and Kizer alternated shatterkeg shots as Sprocket weaved through the falling debris.
“I’m running out of charge!” Kizer said.
“We’re down to only a few shots here, too,” the captain said. “Save your fire for junk that will take us out of the sky.”
As if testing their resolve, a bookcase flipped toward the deck.
“Hold!” Captain Bog shouted.
The bookcase exploded against the back of the ship. Jed couldn’t tell which shattered pieces were from shelves and which were from Bessie.
A life-size iron statue of a dachshund punched through the ship five feet from Jed’s toes. Bessie’s engine whined and popped.
“We’ve lost power to one propeller!” Sprocket called.
“Keep her moving!” the captain called back.
Kizer blasted a pickup truck away from the bridge, and the captain fired at a bunk bed.
Junk rained over them, piercing the deck until it looked like a sieve. A metal file cabinet drifted toward Jed.
The captain fired, but the beam missed. “Shoot it!” he yelled to Kizer.
Kizer mashed the buttons, but the shatterkeg didn’t fire. “We’re out of juice! Take cover!”
Jed and the captain dove. The file cabinet hit the deck where they were standing, smashing the shatterkeg into pieces.
The crew huddled near corners, under railings, and in the bridge as debris clattered around them.
Wind gusted against Jed’s face, forcing him to close his eyes and listen to objects tear the ship apart.
The engine wailed and coughed.
“Come on…” Jed whispered to himself. “Push through—you can do it, Bessie.”
Just then Sprocket shouted from the bridge, “Clear skies ahead!”
Jed opened his eyes. The edges of the black cloud were turning to gray. The howling winds began to die, and bits of sun peeked through the sky ahead.
Sprocket’s arms had been like machines themselves—cranking and twisting levers while her feet alternated between pedals. But as the sky cleared, her motions relaxed.
Jed released the smokestack cable and collapsed. The propellers slowed, and Bessie’s engine sighed in relief.
The crew assembled, and excitement burned in their eyes. Shay seemed simply delighted.
Captain Bog stood up straight and held his hands behind his back. “We’ve got an hour—maybe two. Iron and copper will have seen that storm a hundred miles away. We’ll have falcons and wasps swarming the skies any minute, blasting anything not matching their own metal. Let’s get in, get out, and make the most of this!”
They cheered, with raised fists.
“We’re going back?” Jed asked.
“Of course we’re going back!”
“But—”
“But what? Your girlfriend was right! Treasure map indeed! Junk doesn’t get fresher than this.”
The crew cheered again.
“But you said copper and iron are coming.”
Captain Bog waved a hand as if that were the last thing on his mind. “An hour at least—maybe two! They never find storms before that.” He patted Jed’s shoulder and squeezed. “Good work, Jed. No, excellent work. You deserve this. Shay might not think so, but I’ll bet you’re holding the first gilded relic seen since the javelin chase three decades ago!” He turned to the crew. “Let’s hear it for Jed!”
The crew hollered into the sky. Even Kizer offered a small nod.
“You know what?” Captain Bog said. “Tonight we should cook for you.”
Jed smiled, imagining the captain stirring together canned chili, blackberries, and chicken noodle soup.
Pobble gathered hiking packs, backpacks, suitcases, and shoulder bags, then dumped them into a pile.
“Riggs will search for supplies to patch up Bessie,” the captain said. “The rest of you get cans and batteries—nothing else. Is that clear?” They nodded. “Let’s move out,” he said, throwing an army-style duffel bag over his shoulder.
Sprocket set Bessie onto a dimple of space in the fresh junk pile. Jed strapped a hiking pack to his back and followed the others. Sunlight glittered over millions of untarnished metal surfaces.
Where does it all come from? Jed wondered. It was as if it was sucked from his world and dumped into theirs.
He stepped from the tug and sank to his knee in the unsettled pile. Cans of food crowded his legs. Hundreds of them—thousands, even. Cans everywhere, piled in great heaps. He could fill his whole pack before taking ten steps. And batteries dotted the fresh pile like sprinkles on a birthday cake.
He set the pack on a pool table and scoured the cans. Whatever I want, he thought, all right here. He found sweet peas and garden-fresh peas. Field peas and chickpeas. Black-eyed peas, wasabi peas, peas and carrots, and even purple-hull peas. He held one of the cans to his face. I don’t even know wha
t purple-hull peas are.
The stack of peas teetered on the pool table’s green felt–covered slab. I could fill the whole tug with peas if I wanted. I could find anything. He found creamed possum, canned muffins, jellied eel, teriyaki frog legs, armadillo, whole squid, minced elk, hot wings, smoked rattlesnake, reindeer pâté, Cajun-style alligator, shark fin, sheep tongue, BBQ worms, boar spread, and even something that said “grass jelly” on the label. Jed studied the picture of the purple gelatin cubes. They looked nothing like grass or jelly.
“Sorry, but you’re staying here for now.” He tossed the grass jelly, creamed possum, and jellied eel back into the piles. The others were simply too exciting to pass up. Canned muffins sounded questionable but were worth a shot. He’d try anything once. Well, maybe not grass jelly.
He picked up a yellow can. Lemon pie filling. He could almost smell the baking pie crust—almost see his mother fiddling with the broken knob on the stove, grumbling about cheap plastic and old appliances. He could almost hear his father’s “Shhh!” as he snuck into the kitchen and snatched her into his arms. She’d giggle and flail as he tossed her onto his shoulder, her yellow-ruffled, sauce-stained, flour-dusted, daisy-spotted apron flapping against his face. “You’re blinding me, woman!” he’d say, struggling to push the fabric away from his eyes without releasing his captive.
Jed’s throat went dry. The lemon filling was suddenly heavier than it had been a moment ago. He held it in both hands and stared at the happy picture of fresh-baked pie. “Why did you leave me?” he whispered to the can. “Why did you do this? This isn’t Yellowstone National Park! It’s not some camping trip. I don’t even know what this is. I could barely find food before today. How am I supposed to find you?”
“Are you talking to a can?” Captain Bog’s voice bellowed behind him.
Jed looked up. “No.”
“Did it say anything interesting? You sounded pretty sweet and mushy. Were you two getting to know each other? Middle names, favorite colors, that sort of thing?”
“I wasn’t talking to a can.”
Captain Bog rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Interesting. Either (a) you don’t know what the word talking means or (b) you don’t know what cans are. Because you were holding one, and you were talking to it.”
