And Andy was willing to pay the price to save his dearest friends.
Weak, slashed, and burned almost beyond recognition, Andy Stanley, the Keymaster for the Jungle Explorers’ Society and grandson of the greatest living explorer in history, shouted at the top of his lungs, “Vincit qui patitur!”
And then the world spun before Andy’s eyes.
A shadow seemed to fall over the sun.
The minute hand on the Doomsday Device froze. And a noise that sounded like the Earth itself splitting in two blasted through the battlefield, knocking all the soldiers, both J.E.S. and Collective, off their feet.
It lasted a full minute.
And when everyone rose, weak-kneed and shaking, two people stayed on the ground, lying facedown on the outcropping of stone.
One was the Potentate, whose life had ended with the destruction of the terrible clock.
And the other was the youngest Keymaster the Jungle Explorers’ Society had ever produced.
Andy Stanley, the grandson of the great Ned Lostmore, was dead.
The funeral for Andy Stanley was much like the one that had been given for Ned Lostmore—except this time, the person the ceremony was being held for was actually dead.
Ned Lostmore’s mansion was half-burned to the ground. True to his prediction, the Potentate had sent several members of the Collective to try to break into his vault of artifacts by force.
It hadn’t worked.
Ned had endured every single plague the Doomsday Device had aimed at the Jungle Explorers’ Society and had also, with the help of Boltonhouse and Albert Awol, defended the mansion as best as he could. He was pale and ragged, but since the destruction of the Doomsday Device, he and the rest of the Society were on the mend.
It was all thanks to his grandson’s sacrifice.
Ned remained inside Boltonhouse’s chest in the graveyard by the Lostmore mansion, gazing down at Andy’s body, which had been carefully laid on a marble slab. The boy was burned terribly, but his blond hair was neatly combed and he wore a clean outfit of Jungle Explorers’ khakis with his favorite leather jacket. His face was pale and his eyes were closed.
Andy’s mother and father were also there, looking somber and pale. They seemed stunned by the turn of events, unable to comprehend what had happened to their only son even though it had been explained to them many times. How had their son spending time with his grandfather ended in such tragedy?
Ned stared down at his grandson, his usually bright blue eyes clouded with tears. Other members of the J.E.S.—Rusty Bucketts, Betty, Dotty, Albert Awol, and Molly the mime, each of them bearing the effects of the Great Artifact War—looked ragged but resolute and were standing next to their leader. Below the platform on which they stood were all the other members of the J.E.S. from around the globe, gathered to memorialize the young Keymaster and express their gratitude for his tremendous sacrifice.
“My friends,” began Ned, “there are no words to express what we are all feeling here today. Andy Stanley, my grandson, has embodied through his actions the greatest qualities that any member of our society could aspire to. He has shown courage and loyalty beyond question and has, to all who knew him, been an inspiration, a true and beloved friend.”
Betty and Dotty both sniffled. Even Rusty Bucketts wiped his eye and blew his nose on his pocket handkerchief.
“The loss that we’ve all experienced is one that can never be undone. But it is my honor as the head of the J.E.S. to bestow upon Andy Stanley, my grandson, the highest honor that we possess: the Golden Toucan, for outstanding courage, unending loyalty, compassion without measure, and fortitude in the face of the gravest dangers.”
Boltonhouse moved forward. Several people were crying openly as they watched Ned pin the medal on his grandson’s chest.
Andy Stanley’s loss, for many, was incomprehensible.
Nobody at the funeral, not even the great Ned Lostmore, knew what was going on deep underground. And when tiny root tendrils sprouted from the ground and grew slowly up around Andy’s body, most of those gathered were too overcome with grief to notice. Like probing vines, the roots rose up around Andy’s arms and legs, and wherever they touched him, small white flowers sprouted.
Then, after the vines had found their position, they began to glow with a very faint green light. Where the roots and tendrils touched Andy’s body, the essence of life flowed from within them and then magically transferred directly to his pale, unmoving body.
Which was why, when Andy’s eyes suddenly flickered open, many who hadn’t been able to conceive of living life without him were rewarded with never having to consider that option again.
A gasp spread through the crowd as color returned to the boy’s cheeks. Then a brief magical glow appeared, radiating like a halo around him before fading away. The roots that had gently enclosed his wrists and feet withdrew slowly back into the nutrient-rich ground.
Andy knew, as he saw them disappear, exactly what had happened to him. He could almost hear Patrick Begorra in his mind, telling him again about the roots of the world’s oldest living creature and how they extended under the earth, going farther and deeper than anyone knew. Patrick had also told him that the tree was always listening. He’d said that she gave her most precious gift only when she chose to do so.
And to Andy’s immense surprise, the Eternal Tree had given him that gift—the one that all who sought to find her wanted more than anything else.
Life.
And he hadn’t even asked for it, nor expected it back when he’d made his greatest sacrifice.
Andy blinked and stared around. Sitting up from the slab upon which he’d been recently laid to rest, he felt like he’d had the best sleep of his life. All his burns and bruises were gone, and health seemed to radiate from every one of his pores. The others gazed at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.
Then, noticing where he was and what was happening, Andy laughed with joy. He noticed his friends’ and family’s shocked expressions and grinned. Then Ned Lostmore, with the help of Boltonhouse, rushed over and embraced his grandson. Being hugged by a robot wasn’t a particularly comfortable thing to experience, but the tears of joy streaming down his grandfather’s face behind the glass in Boltonhouse’s chest made Andy feel warm inside.
“My boy! You’re alive!”
Andy nodded. “Thanks to the Eternal Tree,” he said. “She was the one who gave me back my life.”
“She?” asked Ned. Then he gazed into his grandson’s eyes and saw a new kind of wisdom there, something that came from having journeyed to the place of mankind’s deepest fear—death itself—and returned.
“Thunderation! I guess that blasted tree was good for something after all!” shouted Rusty happily.
Everyone cheered! Andy blushed. His mother and father rushed over, kissing him and embracing him in fierce hugs. Andy held on tight. After they let go, the reality of having her son back after nearly losing him forever must have struck Andy’s mother, for she suddenly burst into happy tears.
Andy squeezed his mother’s shoulders. Then he glanced down at his chest and noticed, for the first time, the gleaming medal that was pinned there.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“The greatest honor the Jungle Explorers’ Society has to offer,” said Ned, smiling.
Comprehension and awe washed over Andy’s face. “You mean I’m actually a full member of the J.E.S.?”
“And then some,” chimed in Betty and Dotty simultaneously.
Andy had never felt better in his life! And when that thought occurred to him, he couldn’t help laughing at the thought that followed.
The best I’ve ever felt in both my previous life and my new one!
Everyone cheered and patted Andy on the back. What had been a funeral suddenly turned into the biggest party the Jungle Explorers’ Society had ever had. Andy’s happiness was magnified one hundred times when someone came walking up to him with a big, beaming smile on her fa
ce.
“Abigail!” Andy shouted. He rushed over to the girl and threw his arms around her. “When did you get here?”
“Just now,” she laughed, hugging Andy back. She pointed to the edge of the crowd, where remnants of faint green smoke were dissolving into the air.
“Patrick?”
Abigail nodded. “Leprechauns have an amazing way of getting around! He promised that I’d be completely back to normal in a few more days. But when I heard what had happened to you, I had to come right away.”
“I’m glad you did,” said Andy, his eyes shining. Abigail looked a little pale and was leaning on a wooden cane for support, but she seemed far better than she had when he’d left her.
Albert and the others caught sight of Abigail and came running. As Abigail’s father shouted with glee and wrapped her in an enormous but gentle bear hug, the others also surrounded her with a million questions each about what had happened to her under Patrick Begorra’s care.
Andy grinned at the happy scene and walked a little away from the crowd, relishing the moment. It felt nice to have the attention diverted away from himself so he could think about all that had happened to him.
He gazed down at his hands and flexed his fingers. It was good to be alive!
He thought about all that he’d been through, and it was hard to believe where he’d started. He’d come so far from the introverted, scared little boy he’d been before meeting his grandfather and joining the J.E.S.
At the edge of the grassy lawn, he stared up at the sky, noticing the twinkling stars above and appreciating them in a whole new way. Having died and returned brought a certain perspective to everything. The moonlight reflected on his new medal, and he truly felt like anything was possible.
Adventures are funny things, he thought. You can read about them in books, and they seem exciting. But until you go out there and truly experience them for yourself, nothing can really prepare you for how much they change you. They’re sometimes scary and sometimes dangerous, but in the end they are what make you feel truly alive.
He was lost in thought for a while and felt that he could have gone on staring at the heavens for much longer, but the moment was interrupted when he heard the others calling his name. He turned and saw his friends beaming at him and motioning him over. Andy smiled back at them and then, after one more glance at the night sky, ran back over the dewy grass, feeling very happy that he could enjoy all the sensations life had to offer.
As he ran to his friends, he tried to think of a word that could describe how he was feeling, both proud and ready for anything that life could throw at him.
And then the perfect word came to him, and he couldn’t help hollering it as he ran back to the crowd of the dearest people he’d ever known. He shouted it at the top of his lungs, a joyful cry that seemed to embody all the happiness that was welling up inside of him like a roaring, tumbling fountain.
“Kungaloosh!”
Tales from Adventureland the Doomsday Device Page 12
