“Five minutes to breakfast!” Elliot’s mother called from the bottom of the stairs. “If you’re late, both your ears are going into a puff pastry!”
Jean-Remy raised his thick black eyebrows. “Who was zat?”
“My mom.”
“She sounds quite violent.”
“Don’t worry. She doesn’t know how to make puff pastry.”
A wistful expression passed over Jean-Remy’s face. “Ah! Puff pastry!” He sighed. “But never with ze ears.”
By way of explanation, Elliot said, “My parents are food critics for the Bickleburgh Bugle.”
“Critics? Bah!” Jean-Remy waved his hands. “In ze world of creatures, we have no critics.”
“You don’t?”
“Non! We believe ze opinion, it must be earned. So how do you earn it? By doing ze thing you want to have an opinion about. Let us say you want to be ze movie critic, eh? First, you must make ze movie. It makes sense, non? Of course, once you have made ze movie, you have so much fun, you no longer want to be ze critic—et voilà! No critics!”
“Sounds like a good system,” said Elliot. “But wait. What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like a seagull?”
“Now, Elliot!” screamed his mother.
Elliot turned toward the door. It sounded like his mother was coming up the stairs.
“No, wait—”
“All right, young man,” called his mother. “I’m on my way up there right now—and I’ve got an electric whisk!”
“Ta mère! Elle arrive!”
“Quick, you have to hide!”
Jean-Remy pressed himself against the window frame. “Okay, you go! Have your petit déjeuner, but hurry back. I have something very, very important to tell you!”
Elliot rushed into the hall. His mother was indeed on her way up (but thankfully with no electric whisk).
Downstairs, Elliot joined his parents at the table, but he could hardly look at his breakfast. How could he eat burnt toast and cold porridge now that he had tasted Famous Freddy’s cooking?
“Listen,” he said as soon as he sat down. “You guys really have to review Leslie’s family’s restaurant. Her grandpa’s a genius!”
“The Chinese takeout place?” asked his father. “Sorry, son, you have to understand. It’s not really our style.”
“That’s not what our readers are looking for,” said his mother. “They want to know about the top bistros in Paris and New York!”
“But they live in Bickleburgh.”
“Precisely. That’s why they want to read about Paris and New York. Now, eat your breakfast and tell us what you think.”
It took almost superhuman effort for Elliot to force down the blackened toast and hideous porridge.
“Well?” asked his father.
Elliot was angry about how quickly his parents dismissed his friend’s restaurant—without even tasting the food. Fine, he thought, if they want a review, let’s see how they deal with the truth.
“The toast,” he said. He paused dramatically and collected his thoughts. “It was like someone had freeze-dried all the world’s pain and hit it with a hammer so it split into a million shards of bitterness that shredded the insides of my throat from the very first gulp. As for the porridge? An exquisitely perfect bowl of disappointment.” He smiled politely. “Satisfied?”
For a moment, his parents gaped at him.
“Brilliant!” cried his father.
“Bravo!” cried his mother.
They were actually happy.
His father slapped him heartily on the back. “Son, you have a bright future ahead of you.”
His mother hugged him. “You’re finally learning!”
“Can I go now? I want to get dressed.”
“Of course, of course!”
“What a wonderfully descriptive review! I might even use some of that in my piece on Sunday!”
Elliot rolled his eyes and went back up to his room. Jean-Remy was waiting on the windowsill, seagull head in his fairy-bat hands.
“So,” Elliot said. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
Jean-Remy looked up at him, a grave expression on his face. “Ze Creature Department needs you!”
“Me? Why me?”
“It is now up to you and your friend to complete your uncle’s work in time for ze shareholders’ meeting!”
“Complete his—? Wait, why can’t he complete his own work?”
Jean-Remy’s already dark eyes went even darker. “Because your uncle has abandoned us.”
“He did what?!”
“Do not be alarmed,” Jean-Remy explained. “It has been known to happen from time to time, but never in such dire circumstances. Zere are some of ze creatures who worry that perhaps—just perhaps—he has cracked under ze pressure.”
“My uncle would never do that.”
Jean-Remy shrugged. “Yes, yes, I agree. I hope he will return in time, but we cannot be absolument certain zat he will, and so we must continue our work without him. Which is why we need you.”
“But why me?”
“Because you too,” Jean-Remy cried with great flourish, “have ze blood of a von Doppler!” He reached inside his costume and took out a tightly bound scroll of paper. “Also, it is what it says in ze note.”
“What note?”
“Ze one your uncle left for us on ze weekend.” Jean-Remy handed the paper to Elliot.
I’ve gone to fetch supplies for my new invention. Sorry for keeping everyone in the dark, but I promise to tell you all about it as soon as I’m back. (I might even have a prototype to show you, and trust me, you won’t be disappointed!) While I’m away, please make sure you find a way to put Elliot and Leslie to work in the lab. I’ve got a hunch about those two, and if anything happens to me, they may be our only hope to save the company!!
Archie
CHAPTER 14
In which Elliot experiences one of his mother’s punishments, Reggie mentions something he shouldn’t, and the professor’s secret (well, one of them) is revealed
Getting folded inside the pastry of a giant dumpling had seemed like a good idea at the time (in fact, it was their only idea at the time).
“Is this really necessary?” Elliot had asked. “What about all the secret passages we’ve seen? There’s gotta be one that’ll get us into the Creature Department undetected.”
For a moment, Jean-Remy paused thoughtfully in his seagull suit. “I am sorry, but no,” he said at last. “Leslie’s idea—it is ze best way.”
As a result, Elliot found himself (quite literally) experiencing one of his parents’ imaginary punishments. He and Leslie had been steamed inside two of the biggest dumplings Famous Freddy had ever made.
Curling up inside a gigantic blanket of dumpling pastry, however, wasn’t exactly comfortable.
“This is never going to work,” said Elliot, his voice muffled by the pastry.
Leslie elbowed him from inside her own dumpling. “Shh! We’re almost there!”
As they drove, Elliot began to worry about his uncle. What did he mean when he said, If anything happens to me . . . ? He had only gone to fetch supplies for his new invention, so what could happen? Could it be that simply fetching supplies was dangerous? It all depended, Elliot supposed, on what you were making.
Famous Freddy’s trailer slowed as Leslie’s grandfather pulled into the security gates. A moment later, the back of the trailer was unlatched.
Through the breathing holes in his dumpling, Elliot saw it was Carl, the friendly security guard who had opened the trailer, only he wasn’t looking very friendly. Instead, he looked angry. This was probably because his only duty was opening the back. It was two Quazicom security robots who scanned the interior.
“That is a lot of dumplings,” said the first robot. “I had he
ard those mysterious Research and Development workers enjoy them, but I had no idea how much.”
“Those two in the middle,” said the second robot, “are the biggest dumplings I have ever scanned.”
“Ho ho, yes,” the first robot replied. “If I had a mouth, I would be sorely tempted to give those dumplings a hearty nibble.”
Hearing this exchange, Elliot assumed that he and Leslie had been caught, that the robots were merely poking fun at the enormous dumplings to taunt them.
However, it seemed the robots were speaking in earnest because the first robot said, “All right, send them in. Let them get it while it’s still hot.”
“Yes,” agreed the second robot. “I’ve heard that makes a difference when you have a mouth.”
Carl shut the back of the trailer, glowering at the robots the whole time.
When the truck door opened again, it was Gügor who opened the latch. A great cheer rose from all the creatures as Famous Freddy peeled away the dumpling pastry to reveal two soggy children.
As before, everyone ate together in the cafetarium. Nostalgic images of the creatures’ past scrolled across the ceiling.
As they came to the end of the meal, it happened again. The imagery turned ominous and sinister. There were scenes of chaos: creatures running for their lives, creatures pursued by hoards of weird, shadowy shapes, creatures dragged away in huge nets, vanishing into darkness.
In the images, the shadowy things were coming closer, coming into focus. Elliot saw patches of mottled green skin, just like the skin he had seen when—
Patti Mudmeyer switched off the ceiling.
“Wait,” said Elliot. “What are those things?”
The creatures looked around the table at one another, but none of them spoke.
“If you want us to help you,” said Leslie, “you need to tell us.”
“I believe we owe our young friends an explanation,” said a voice behind them.
It was Reggie, the bombastadon.
“You’ll only give them nightmares,” Harrumphrey grunted. “Nobody needs to know anything about—”
“The Ghorkolians,” said Reggie.
“Reggie!”
Several of the more timid creatures whimpered and covered their ears. Reggie pressed on nevertheless.
“Ghorks!” cried Reggie. “Ugh! Despicable creatures! A particularly nasty kind of subterranean ogre. Or perhaps trolls. Perhaps extremely large gremlins. Difficult to say in light of their unusual features. But oh! The teeeerible dreams I’ve had about those insufferable ghorks!”
Reggie looked just about ready to spin into more of his hysterics, so Harrumphrey begrudgingly picked up where the bombastadon left off. “Reggie’s right about one thing. They’re insufferable.” He paused for a moment to consider this. “No, they’re worse than that. Much worse. We creatures were around long before you humans came on the scene. When you did, there was something of a split between us. The ghorks didn’t want to share this world with anyone, while the rest of us were happy to use creature technology to stay hidden. We were content to quietly go about our business, living in our secret cities, secret enclaves. . . .” His eyes did a quick spin of the room. “And our secret mansions. The ghorks, however, would have none of it.”
“They started to think they were superior to the rest of us,” said Reggie. “Can you imagine? Such overweening presumptuousness!”
“Lucky for us,” said Patti, “the ghorks were so disagreeable, they spent most of their time fightin’ among themselves. They come in five different flavors, you see—or species, if you like. Each tribe of ghorks thinks it’s better than all the others. We’re happy to let ’em duke it out, but eventually, the ghork wars got bigger and bigger. They couldn’t help but spill over into the rest of creaturedom. Anybody who wasn’t a ghork had to head for the hills! Lately, us creatures’ve been scattered to the four winds.” Her eyes narrowed and she looked left and right. “Believe it or not, we’re hiding out all over the place. You’d be surprised.”
“It is true,” said Jean-Remy. “In fact, zere are many other Creature Departments, just like zis one, all around ze world.”
“Those nasty images you saw,” said Harrumphrey. “They just keep showing up, a collective memory of the last time any of us saw our real homes.”
Everyone sat in silence, nodding solemnly after Harrum-phrey’s words.
“I think I’ve seen one,” said Elliot. “A ghork.”
“I have too,” said Leslie. “They’re big, right? Like giants?”
Harrumphrey laughed. “Big? Not at all. Besides, giants are peaceful as can be. But ghorks? Naw! Not peaceful, and definitely not giants.”
Gügor agreed. “The biggest ghork that Gügor ever saw,” he proclaimed, “only came up to here.” He sliced one hand across the bottom of his chest (it still would have been large—at least by human standards—but not nearly as massive as whatever had been lurking in the woods).
“No,” said Elliot. “What I saw was much bigger.”
“I must have seen the same thing,” said Leslie. “It was huge—and it was watching the restaurant.” She looked down the table to Famous Freddy, chewing quietly. “Isn’t that right, Grandpa?”
Freddy hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“But you saw it too,” Leslie argued. “I know you did!”
Freddy swallowed another dumpling, his throat undulating with an audible gulp. “It was quite dark,” he said. “I know something frightened you, but I was . . .” He shrugged bashfully. “Well, you know.”
“Drinking,” said Leslie.
Freddy nodded sadly. “I can’t say I saw anything but a few odd shadows.”
Leslie was disappointed. She turned to Elliot. “You believe me, right? It had slimy green skin and it was watching me through the window.”
“That’s it!” said Elliot. “Exactly what followed me in the woods!”
“But if it wasn’t a giant and it wasn’t a ghork . . . then what was it?”
No one had an answer. For a moment, they all sat in silence.
“Listen, guys,” said Patti. “It’s quite possible you saw something out there, but if you did, it wasn’t one of us in here, I’ll tell you that much. And right now, we don’t have time for much speculatin’. What we gotta do is keep working—especially with the professor still gone.”
Leslie realized that Patti was right. Friday’s shareholder meeting was fast approaching. “Have you really looked everywhere for him?” she asked. “The professor, I mean.”
Gügor nodded. “We even looked in Reggie’s room.”
Reggie tutted. “Without asking, may I remind you.”
“How could we?” said Harrumphrey. “You were hibernating.”
“What about behind the cabinet in his office?” Elliot asked. “Did you look there?”
Everyone at the table squinted at him. Elliot, however was only looking at Leslie. “Remember? When we first came, I didn’t believe he could run everything by himself. Neither could you. I joked that an old mansion like this would be full of secret passages.”
“I do remember,” said Leslie. “You went to look behind that cabinet and—”
“He kind of freaked out, didn’t he?”
Leslie smiled. “Until I freaked him out more when I mentioned Grandpa Freddy.”
“Maybe there really is a secret passage back there,” said Elliot. “Maybe that’s where he went!”
Elliot and Leslie didn’t have to say anything else. Everyone at the table stood up. Moments later, they were all standing in the professor’s office.
The cabinet was surprisingly heavy, but Gügor moved it out of the way as if it were made of straw. Just as Leslie suspected, the cabinet had been hiding something.
A safe.
Elliot looked around at the others. “Anyone happen to know the combin
ation?
No one did.
“I’d better give it a try,” said Harrumphrey, with supreme confidence. “Me and ol’ Archie, we go waaaay back.” He used his tail to spin the combination dial and then again to pull the door.
It didn’t open.
Harrumphrey tried another combination. It didn’t work either. When the eighth attempt failed, he stepped away from the safe.
“All right,” he said looking a little dejected. “Go ahead, Gügor. It’s rickum-ruckery time.”
Gügor blinked at the wall. “Gügor is doubtful the professor could fit in such a tiny space.”
Harrumphrey sighed. “Yes, I think we all agree that isn’t actually a secret passage, but it’s okay. At this point, we’re just looking for clues.”
“Perhaps inside it is ze professor’s secret invention!”
“Gügor thinks it is private.” The knucklecrumpler looked to Patti for guidance.
“Go ahead, big guy,” said Patti. “If it’ll help us find the doc, we gotta do it.”
Gügor wrapped his massive knuckles around the handle and with the merest tug pulled the door clean off the wall.
What fell out of the safe surprised everyone.
“Comic books?” asked Elliot.
“Well, chop me down and call me stumped,” said Patti.
Indeed it was. The safe was stuffed with old, faded, well-thumbed comic books and science-fiction magazines. They were the sorts of ancient entertainments from a time when the closest thing anyone had to the Internet would have been a radio (likely an enormous wooden one).
“This. This is his big secret?” Leslie crouched down with the pile of colorful, dog-eared volumes. “He’s a comic book geek?”
They all leafed through the old comics, looking for something that might reveal why these old stories of superheroes and rocket ships would be so well hidden. They didn’t find anything useful.
The most common comic in the heap was something called Captain Adventure Saves the Day. It featured a square-jawed hero in red-and-orange tights, soaring through the cosmos, planet to planet, in order to . . . well, save the day.
The Creature Department Page 11
