The other Keepers nodded appreciatively and gave a round of applause.
“Great, baa, speech, baa,” said Kolt. “Very strong words in my opinion, though, er . . . we may need to borrow back our keys from time to time . . . but they’re still yours of course, you can keep them in your bed, et cetera . . .”
“Kolt’s right,” said Gertie. “Do you mind if we borrow them back right now in fact, so we can go home?”
Robot Rabbit Boy shook his head, holding out the keys to their original owners.
“Now all we need to do is rescue those missing Keepers,” Gertie said.
“Baa, well, there’s a bit more to it than that, baa—we’ll have to find the missing keys so the B.D.B.U. knows the time and place, baa, baa. Before we think about that, baa, can we find out where I am?”
“You’re here,” stated Birdy.
“As a sheep!”
“I think he means his body,” Gertie said.
“Baa. I’ve had enough ovine fun to last a lifetime. I just hope those body-swap-bots were not set to permanent.”
“But we can’t stay here too long,” Birdy said. “The Losers are coming back, remember?”
“I can’t go home as a BAA!” Kolt said, stamping a hoof.
“Oh, stop being proud.” Gertie smiled. “You can go jump around with the tapirs.”
Despite being exhausted, the four Keepers of Lost Things went quickly back to the captain’s area, where they found the sheep in Kolt’s body sleeping off his strange adventure under the table.
Just then, Kolt’s face began to shake, and with a strange flash of the eyes, the sheep let out a series of terrified sheep noises and scarpered back to its hole. A moment later, the body of an old man uncurled from beside the flattened food table and stood up.
“I’m me again!” Kolt said, wiping cream, bits of muffin, and chocolate sauce from his forehead. “I’m back! Yippee!”
Birdy helped Kolt scrape cake icing off his shoes.
Gertie stood watching, hands on her hips. “I’m glad,” she said, “but we can’t just leave it here.”
“Leave what?”
“The sheep!”
“And why not?” asked Kolt.
“Because the Losers are coming back, and there’s no crew, so they might take the space station over.”
“Well, there’s plenty of cake left for it to eat.”
“I just don’t think it’s the right thing.”
Robot Rabbit Boy nodded in agreement.
Kolt seemed flustered as he scooped maraschino cherries from his pockets. “Well, what’s its name? Does it even have one?”
“Eggcup?”
“We can give it one,” Gertie said.
“How about Max?” asked Birdy. “That name keeps coming up in my head.”
“Or John?” said Kolt.
“Not John,” said Gertie. “We’d get him confused with . . .”
“Oh yes,” Kolt realized. “Our Johnny of the sea . . .”
“I actually like Max . . .” Gertie said.
“Max it is then,” said Kolt. “If it comes when called we take it back to Skuldark and hope the B.D.B.U. allows us to keep it, as we kept Robot Rabbit Boy and Mrs. Pumble’s kitten. But if it doesn’t come when we call, it’ll have to stay.”
“It will come,” Gertie said hopefully. “Birdy, want to do the honors?”
Birdy walked forward, slapped his legs, and shouted to the hole where the cleaning sheep was hiding. “Max! Max! Good sheep! Good sheep! Max!”
The door opened a crack and a pair of frightened sheep eyes appeared.
“Good sheep!” Gertie said. “There’s a good sheep!”
Slowly the animal got up and opened the door a little more with its nose.
“It’s working!” said Birdy.
Kolt had his time machine and key ready to go.
“Remember, the Losers could be back any minute,” he told them.
“C’mon, Max!” Birdy said, tapping his leg.
With a bowed head, and shy, hesitant eyes, the blueberry-muffin-loving cleaning sheep stepped sheepishly to the ragged band of Keepers.
“I knew it would work!” Gertie said, reaching out to pet the creature.
“We’re going to look after you now,” said Birdy.
“Lavender mashed,” said Robot Rabbit Boy.
“Ready?” Kolt said. “There’s raspberry syrup in my underpants and it’s drying. . . . Link up, everyone!”
38
Home Sweet Skuldark
A WEEK LATER, THINGS were going well for the Keepers of Lost Things. Max the sheep was still in Skuldark. He had not been sent back to space by the B.D.B.U. and had found a comfortable place to nap in the hallway, halfway between the bedrooms and Robot Rabbit Boy’s bed.
But the major news was that Robot Rabbit Boy had surprised them all yet again. Not by getting lost—but by recreating an exact replica of Mandy Zilch’s map of missing Keepers, having used a tiny-cam function in the second toe of his right paw, to get a few seconds of footage.
One morning before anyone else was up, he went out into the garden and scorched the grass with his nose laser in the shape of continents. Then the clever Series 7 Forever Friend placed moonberries where all the little glowing dots had been. The only problem was, Slug Lamps kept zooming out to gobble them up.
Eventually, Kolt replaced each moonberry with a rock. There seemed to be sixteen Keepers in total, spread throughout the world. The only challenge was, they still didn’t know when in time the Keepers had been put there. But everyone agreed it was a good start, and hoped the B.D.B.U. would continue to assist in the restoration of the island’s Keeper population, by helping them find keys, and sending them on rescue missions.
* * *
‹‹ • • • ››
WHEN THE COTTAGE WAS completely repaired from the damage inflicted by the robot hands and moonberry juice, the five heroes of Skuldark threw the biggest party the island had ever seen. There were fireworks from bedroom 285, noisemakers from bedroom 386, a record player and speakers from bedroom 612, Kolt’s xylophone and bobble, and more cake than Max the sheep had ever seen in his entire life. Even some of the Guardians came to enjoy the eclectic range of music Gertie had chosen as DJ, and sample the many different foods Kolt had prepared for all manner of palates.
But the best part was when George the mouse, Max the sheep, and several Slug Lamps got on the dance floor with Robot Rabbit Boy, who was wearing all three Keepers’ keys around his neck on a gold chain, along with the biggest, bushiest mustache ever worn by any rabbit, in the history of the universe—which was now safe, by the way, thanks to the Keepers of Lost Things, and a live cleaning sheep called Max.
Acknowledgments
The author would like to thank his agent and friend, Carrie Kania; production editor, Janet Pascal; editor, Julie Rosenberg; Alex Sanchez, editorial assistant; and Ben Schrank, president and publisher of Razorbill.
SIMON VAN BOOY enjoys building robots, model airplanes, and R.C. vehicles. He has an impressive umbrella collection, a bowler hat, and carries a green thermos of tea everywhere. He is the bestselling author of nine books of fiction and three anthologies of philosophy. He has written for the New York Times, the Financial Times, the Irish Times, NPR, and the BBC. His works have been translated into many languages and optioned for film. In 2013, he founded Writers for Children, a project that helps young people build confidence in their writing abilities.
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Gertie Milk and the Great Keeper Rescue Page 24
