Artifacts

by Pete Catalano

  Crunch and I watched as the Grumpkins, Tank, and Mouth flew into the canopies of the trees and disappeared.

  “Do you wish you had gone first?” I asked Crunch, sitting down on the bridge and letting my feet dangle over the side.

  “Nah,” Crunch said. “Those two need to make sure they go everywhere together since Tank’s the only one who can control Mouth. You know the Wahoos Rule and all. Besides, I wanted to make sure you and I stayed together.”

  I was amazed. “Wow, that was great Crunch.”

  “Well,” Crunch said matter-of-factly, “we all need someone we can count on.”

  “I still can’t believe we found it,” I said, running my fingers along the edge of the box in my pocket. “Even though we knew it’d be ‘a treasure that can rewrite the fairy tales,’ we still rummaged through a hundred pieces of crap. We should have known all along it’d be a pen.”

  “How could we not have known, indeed,” a voice snarled from behind us.

  I winced as I heard the voice.

  I turned around to see Hook standing on the bridge behind us, holding Korie at the edge of the rail.

  “Are you all right?” I shouted to Korie. “Are you hurt?”

  “I believe yes and not yet will be the answers to those questions, Jackson.” Hook sneered. “Now, boy. Come on. Let me see Jacob Grimm’s pen.”

  Hook was all grabby hands, or should I say grabby … hook … as I slipped the long, thin, wooden box out and held it out in front of me.

  “Korie first?” I said, waving the box in front of him.

  “She will be first if you take much longer,” Hook said. “But maybe you just don’t care.”

  I felt my lip snarl as I took a step toward him.

  “Well, well, well.” Hook laughed giddily. “Maybe you care … too … much.”

  “Give me Korie and I’ll give you your treasure,” I barked. “Leave me waiting too long and I’ll toss it over the side.”

  The edges of Hook’s mouth curled up on each side. “I was just going to say the same.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Taking a step around Crunch, I kept my eyes locked on Hook. I held the box close, my knuckles white as my hand wrapped around it tightly.

  “You’ll never get away with this,” I growled, my rage building the more I thought about how scared Korie must be.

  “I already have.” Hook sneered. “The Lost Boys will never arrive in time to save both of you. So you will offer your life, which I shall take willingly, along with Jacob Grimm’s pen. They’ll make sure Korie is safe, you are revered, and I will be gone into the shadows.”

  “What’s to stop me from taking Korie, keeping the pen, and throwing you over the side to your death?” I asked.

  Hook laughed so hard his eyes closed and tears ran down his face. As the emotion rushed out of him, Crunch slipped Walt Disney’s brush out of his pocket and waited.

  “You’re a boy,” Hook growled. “And not much of a boy at that. How is it that you expect to overpower me and take your dear Korie out of harm’s way?”

  Wielding his steel hook, it sliced through the air. He slipped it under my chin and I could feel the sharp tip rake across my skin.

  I stared at him, my eyes not moving. My determination not wavering.

  Suddenly, his eyebrows twitched … then the ends of his mustache. One after the other, in a very rhythmic beat, to the sound of what seemed to be a ticking croc coming from behind us.

  “Impossible!” Hook yelled, breaking his stare and looking frantically farther down the bridge for the croc. As his eyes landed on Crunch’s cartoon clock tick-tocking its way across the rail of the bridge, he was hypnotized … and enraged.

  Hooks hand slipped from Korie as he reached for the clock still taunting him.

  While he was preoccupied, Crunch quietly reached out and swiped his brush over the bright, silver hook.

  Glancing back, Hook raised his arm and watched as his shiny, sharpened namesake blew up to four times its original size. As his rage and anger built, the hook turned into a bright red train whistle and blew steam and a shrill whistle loud enough to be heard all throughout the forest.

  Grabbing Korie, Crunch and I ran in the opposite direction.

  “We have to get to Skylights, Tank, and the Lost Boys,” I said, grabbing onto a zip line, taking her in my arms, and hurtling us through the trees to the ground. Crunch was right behind us.

  Hook was still on top of the rope bridge, yelling and cussing like … well, a pirate. We ran into the denser part of the forest and disappeared.

  Fifty yards of running over logs—over logs I know for a fact had snakes under them—fallen trees, ruts, puddles, and boulders later, we stopped to catch our breath. With no sign or sound of Hook, we relaxed.

  “That was … that was … incredible!” Korie cried, flinging her arms around me and holding on tight.

  I had my arms out to my sides but slowly brought them around her and mimicked the holding … on … tight.

  Our peace lasted for only a moment.

  “I knew it!” Mouth roared, running up behind us. “Here we are, searching the forest, fighting for our lives as hundreds of Lost Boys battle dozens of pirates and you two decide to move past hand-holding distance and into a Public Display of Affection. You’re unbelievable!”

  Tank crashed out of the trees behind him. “Don’t mind him.”

  “I never do.”

  “We’ve trapped a lot of the pirates down by the house,” Tank said.

  “What about Butt-Kiss?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of hard to run away with snowshoes for feet.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “I forgot about that. Smee and Jerkin?”

  “We found their suitcases and opened them up,” Tank said.

  “They popped right out,” Mouth roared. “Their bodies were cartoon accordions, making wheezy little squeaks as they bounced up and down. and, they were still yelling at each other.”

  Tank shook his head. “No sign of Hook so far.”

  “He’s in the trees,” I said. “He wanted to make a ‘fair trade’ … Korie’s safe return, in exchange for Jacob Grimm’s pen. It didn’t work out as well for him as he’d hoped.”

  Tank looked confused. “How did you get away?”

  I laughed. “I hate to say it, but Crunch’s cartoon clock saved the day. When it got close enough for us to hear it ticking, Hook thought it was the croc—”

  “The croc? In the trees?’ Tank asked.

  I nodded.

  Tank cracked up. “Idiot.”

  “He thought it was the croc,” I continued, “and let go of Korie. I grabbed her, and we hung on to the zip line and free-fell to the ground. Crunch painted his hook and as it changed into like fifty different, uncontrollable things, we headed into the forest—”

  “To make out.” Mouth laughed.

  “Shut up,” Tank said. “Come on. Let’s get back to the house and get ready.”

  We followed Tank and Mouth. They didn’t even hesitate as they powered through, knowing that the Lost Boys had control of the forest.

  Nearing the edge of the trees, we could hear shouting in the distance. Having had their final battle with Hook, the Lost Boys were now having their last celebration.

  Stepping into the clearing, we watched the hundreds of Lost Boys. Most were laughing. Some were running and playing games they hadn’t played, in some cases, for half a century. Others rolled around on the grass catching their breath, exhausted from being brave enough for one last battle with Hook.

  “You did this for them,” Skylights said, stepping up behind me.

  I laughed. “It took so little to do so much. Just a swipe of the pen.”

  “It took great strength to wield it,” Skylights said.

  “I had to,” I said. “Imagine what things could’ve been like if Hook found the artifact.”

  Skylights smiled. “And the Lost Boys will be forever
grateful.”

  I saw Crunch and Mouth run across the clearing chasing the cartoon Smee and Jerkin. “Hey guys, leave them alone. I think they’ve had enough …”

  Turning back to the house I stopped cold. A shadow swept in front of the windows on the third floor and as it passed the vibrant colors of a cartoon hook trailed behind it.

  “Uh-oh!” I said.

  I ran up onto the porch and slipped in through the partially opened front door. Recalling where the creaks and squeaks were, I silently made my way through to the foot of the stairs.

  Remembering Crunch’s paint job on the first couple of steps, I stretched my foot to the third step and pulled myself up with the handrail. I tried to be as quiet as I could, and fortunately, the Lost Boys having such a great time outside drowned out any mistakes I made.

  The second floor was quiet.

  Waiting to hear a noise that would point me in the right direction, I held my breath.

  Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. They were light, not moving quickly, nearly mirroring my own. I backed into one of the open doorways and waited.

  Just as a foot passed by the opening of the door, I leaped up and found myself swinging around on Crunch’s back, holding on for dear life, as he screamed … like a girl … again.

  I slapped my hand over his mouth and continued to ride him like a bucking bronco.

  “It’s me,” I whispered. “You’re safe, so shut up.”

  “i could have killed you,” he mouthed. There was no sound, but the emotion was still showing on his face. He then punched, kicked, and strangled the air in front of him.

  By the time he finished, he was exhausted.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered, slipping off his back.

  “We started this together,” Crunch panted, sinking to the floor, “and we’ll finish it together. Did you see the cartoon hook up on the third floor, too?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I said.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  I laughed. “For you to catch your breath and get up from your nap.”

  Putting out my hand, he grabbed it and I pulled him back to his feet.

  “Bait would be really good to have,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Crunch agreed. “Where’s Mouth when you need him?”

  Walking down the hall, I heard the floorboards creaking right above our heads.

  I pulled out Jacob Grimm’s pen and Crunch had his paintbrush in hand as we reached the stairs and headed up to the third floor.

  We stopped on the top step. Suddenly, we heard an ear piercing screech.

  Running down the hall, we turned quickly into a room with a ginormous blackboard running the entire length of the back wall. The word “jackson” was scribbled across it.

  “Hook,” I gasped, realizing he was but feet away. “Crunch, we have to get out of here.”

  “Easier said than done,” Hook snarled, stepping into the doorway, blocking our escape. “You’ve been a thorn in my side since the day we met, Jackson. I’ve never cared for the idea of living, breathing … children as you can tell from my disdain for Peter Pan. But after meeting you and the other … middle schoolers, and spending the better part of what seemed like eternity this year with you, I have to say you’ve made me hate them more. Snotty-nosed, little brats!”

  “I feel like we’re in class,” I interrupted him, “and all I’m hearing is blah, blah, blah!”

  Hook smiled a broken little smile. “The chase is over. Give me Jacob Grimm’s pen and I promise to kill you quickly.”

  Crunch elbowed me and looked at the floor. Suddenly, he dropped down, painted a large spot below, and we jumped through.

  The moment we hit the second floor, Crunch scrambled around, painted another spot on the floor directly below the first, and we ran toward the stairs.

  Hook followed us through the hole and screamed as he passed through the new one and crashed on the floor below.

  Crunch and I scrambled up the stairs to the fourth floor to get out onto the roof.

  The stairs to the attic were crazy-creaky and narrow.

  “These people had to be dwarves,” Crunch grumbled, barely able to make it up the steps. “Probably another fairy tale that dropped into the greenway.”

  He had to squeeze through the opening and out into the space.

  “It should slow Hook down,” I said. I peeked out the window to see where we were.

  Hook slashed through the door and fought his way up the stairs. Stepping out through the window and onto the roof, Crunch was right behind me.

  After scribbling a word on Crunch’s paper, I began to inch my way out across the roof.

  Crunch, on the other hand, was slipping and sliding across the shingles. He was near tears as he looked down at how far he’d fall if he couldn’t find a way to hold on.

  “Use the brush and draw something that’ll help you save yourself,” I said. “Hook only wants Jacob Grimm’s pen and me. He’s not so concerned about the brush at the moment.”

  “Korie will kill me if I leave you,” Crunch said. “Besides, I told you we started this together and we’ll end this together.” As Crunch’s foot slipped, I saw him close his eyes tightly.

  I cringed. “I have a few ideas, and it’ll be easier if I don’t have to worry about you, too.”

  “Okay,” Crunch agreed, “but be careful.”

  Crunch painted a large round circle, much like he had in the playroom, and dropped through.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Moments later, I saw Crunch running out of the house. Korie ran up next to him, and as she looked up, I waved to her.

  “How sweet,” Hook growled. “I’ll destroy her and the others once I’m done with you.”

  “Why do you want the pen?” I asked, backing away toward the edge of the roof.

  Hook paused. “To rewrite the stories the way they should have been written. Pompous, arrogant, idiotic little boys and girls are born into this world as princes and princesses while the true heroes are left to wait in the dark. Well, Jackson, my time has come. The names that have been read to children as they lay their heads down and drift off to sleep will soon be forgotten. Replaced with the tales of Hook, as it should be.”

  I shuddered. “Those versions all seem a little too creepy and strange for me.”

  “You have no choice,” Hook snarled.

  “There’s always a choice.” I turned away from him, opened the long, thin, wooden box, slipped out the pen, and then opened my hand, letting the feather float away.

  The breeze caught it quickly. It moved slowly from side to side, falling a bit and then blowing back up by a sudden breath of air. It skittered and flitted, skimming across the shingles until it slipped out past the edge of the roof and disappeared.

  “Noooooo!” Hook yelled, racing across the roof, and leaping after the feather.

  I leaned over the edge just in time to see Crunch, smiling at me with feather in hand, standing on his newly drawn stairway while Hook plummeted past him.

  At the very last moment, Hook managed to lasso his cartoon hook around the eave just below Crunch.

  “Are you all right?” I called to Crunch, climbing down toward him.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” he called back and then looked down at his feet. “I don’t think Hook is doing too well, however.”

  “I’m glad you were able to squish up against the wall flat enough so Hook couldn’t grab you on the way down,” I said, stepping onto the ledge next to Crunch.

  Crunch laughed. “I think he was too surprised to grab me. He looked really shocked.”

  I crouched down until I was a few inches from Hook. “I’m guessing this isn’t how you thought it would end.”

  “It’s not the end, Jackson.” Hook sneered, the strain of hanging on by his hook now showing in his voice. “There will be others and others after us. We will have what we desire.”

  “You’re right. There�
�s still one more surprise left you haven’t seen as of yet. You would have caused all kinds of havoc if you had gotten away with Jacob Grimm’s pen.” I could hear the eave splintering under his weight and saw him drop down little by little.

  “Don’t bask too much in the light of your victory.” Hook laughed. “This fall certainly won’t kill me. I will be back to bury you and those other little brats. Especially Korie. Mark my words, Jackson. I’ll take my time with her.”

  I slid a little closer to him, but not so close that he could grab me.

  “I wrote something down before climbing onto the roof from the attic,” I whispered. “Two words, eight letters, nice and simple.” I saw the edge of his eyebrows and the tips of his mustache start to twitch in a rhythmic beat. “You know what those eight letters are?”

  He looked up at me and I showed him the slip of paper.

  “tick tock,” he read slowly. He screamed and tried to scramble back onto the ledge.

  The rustling in the trees was so loud everyone in the clearing stopped and watched as Tick Tock, the monstrous crocodile raced across the grass. It stopped just short of the house, directly below the dangling and frightened Captain James Bartholomew Hook.

  Climbing down off the roof, Korie ran over and hugged me. Tank and Slightly congratulated each other, while the Grumpkins raised Crunch onto their shoulders, carrying him around the clearing for all to see.

  I looked back to see Hook’s legs running quickly in the air as he tried to use his momentum to climb back up onto the eave.

  “What should we do with him now?”

  “I’d like to let the croc eat him,” Skylights said, “but we’ll take him back to Neverland. You need to know that we can never be sure he won’t get away again.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “He’ll come right back after you now that he knows where you are.” Skylights shot a look at Grifter and Touch. “You could always try using Jacob Grimm’s pen.”

  Reaching into my pocket, I ran my fingers across the feather. Skylights held out a piece of paper for me to write on. “How did Hook turn out to be so evil?”