by Sean Cullen
“Is that so? And who, pray tell, are you, my young hellion?” Mr. Kipling asked.
“My name is Mimi Catastrophe Jones. And yer gonna gimme that key or I’ll lay a beatin’ on ya.”
Mr. Kipling looked at the thin girl with her fierce green eyes blazing and fists cocked. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were tattered but there she was, ready to go toe to toe with three grown men. He looked at her and he did something he hadn’t done for many years. He laughed. “Miss Jones, please …”
“I’ll take care of this,” Tim chuckled. He took a leisurely step towards Mimi. “Come on, girlie. Let’s not make things difficult … Ow!”
Mimi drove her fist into the man’s nose, then spun and drove her heel into his belly. Tim folded over and fell to his knees.
“Why you little …” Tom pulled a pistol from his belt and brought it up. The murderous mouth of the barrel looked like a cannon in his tiny hand. He aimed it straight at Mimi, but before he had a chance to fire it Mr. Kipling’s sword swept out of its sheath, batting the barrel upward. The shot reverberated loudly in the close quarters of the stone corridor, striking the ceiling and bringing down a rain of stone shards.
The shocked pirate had only time to say “Oi, Kipling! What’s the big idea?” before Kipling brought the hilt of his sword down on the little man’s head. Tom’s eyes crossed, closed, then he fell onto his face.
Mimi stared at Mr. Kipling in shock. “What did you do that fer?”
Mr. Kipling sighed. “I really don’t know what came over me. Perhaps I’ve grown tired of cheese.” Tim tried to stand up, got the same treatment from Kipling’s sword hilt, and fell heavily on top of his Scrabble partner. Mr. Kipling sheathed his sword and fumbled with the keys, selecting one and plunging it into the lock of Mrs. Francis’s cell door. As soon as the door opened Mimi was crushed in a fuzzy pink embrace.
“Oh, Mimi! Mimi! Mimi! Darling Mimi!” The chubby lady smothered the squirming girl with kisses.
“C’mon Mrs. Francis,” Mimi complained. “Can all the mushy stuff. We ain’t got time! We’ve gotta get the other prisoners out. Mr. Kipling here’s got the keys.”
Mrs. Francis allowed Mimi to escape her clutches as she looked at Mr. Kipling.
“Mr. Kipling,” she said softly, “I knew you were a good man deep down.” Mrs. Francis stood up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Mr. Kipling blushed, covering his embarrassment by plucking his handkerchief from his sleeve and blowing his nose. “Yes. Quite. Well, uh … let’s toss these two into the cell vacated by the lovely, um … Mrs. Francis, shall we?”
Mimi looked back and forth between the two adults and shook her head. “Grownups,” she snorted. She grabbed the small man by the feet and dragged him into the cell while Mrs. Francis helped Mr. Kipling drag the heavier one. Once the guards were inside, Mr. Kipling swung the door shut and locked it.
“Right,” he said, “I guess there’s no going back now.”
“Where are the children?” Mrs. Francis asked.
“Follow me.” He turned and led them back down the tunnel.
Chapter 30
Hamish X concentrated as hard as he could on the job at hand. Screen after screen flashed by as his fingers danced over the keyboard. The trick was not to think about what he was doing, and just let whatever part of his mind knew about computers take over. The sensation was very strange: like letting someone else operate your body while you were asleep.
He was in such a state of intense meditation he didn’t notice when the snow monkeys started to fill the room. First one at a time, then in bunches. Somehow, the word had spread through the caverns and corridors of Snow Monkey Island. All the male monkeys who for so long had been without their mates began to flock to the cavern where their loved ones were imprisoned. They gathered by the hundreds, tiny black eyes blinking in the glare of the lights, waiting to see if the strange boy with the black boots would succeed.
When at last the bolts on the cages slid back with a heavy thud Hamish X sagged with relief. But he almost leapt out of his chair when the monkeys began to celebrate their freedom.
Immediately there were monkeys everywhere, hugging, nuzzling, swinging and screeching, hopping and howling.
“No! No! Be quiet! Calm down!” Hamish X waved his arms ineffectually. “The pirates are going to hear you! Oh, what am I doing? You’re monkeys! You don’t understand a word I’m saying.”75
“Eeeeeak.” The authoritative shriek pierced through the cacophony of monkey noise. Silence filled the cavern. Winkie stood atop the cheese press with his arms raised, looking for all the world like a politician calling for silence at a rally. Only he was covered in fur and only had one eye. All the monkeys sat silently, their beady little eyes blinking.
“Thank you, Winkie. I’m glad I could help you all, but I have another job to do. I have to save my friends.” Hamish X reached up and took Winkie’s leathery paw in his hand. “You saved me and you brought me here. I doubt you can understand me, but thank you. Go and be free. I’ve got an appointment with some pirates. Goodbye and thanks again.”
Hamish X squeezed the paw once and let go. He turned and headed for the door Captain Cheesebeard and Viggo had exited through moments before. But he hadn’t gone five steps when he heard Winkie hooting.
He turned to see the big snow monkey gesticulating wildly, swinging his massive arms and pounding his chest. The monkeys responded by pounding theirs. Winkie pointed at Hamish X and pantomimed falling off a cliff. The monkeys hooted as he re-enacted Hamish X swinging him to safety.
As the incredulous boy watched, the monkeys began hopping up and down, pointing at him and hooting with their yellow teeth bared fiercely. Winkie pointed at the doorway and, as if responding to an order, the monkeys swarmed past Hamish X, sweeping the startled boy up a stone tunnel towards the surface. Hamish X laughed and ran as fast as he could until he was leading the monkey wave. As they rose through the broad tunnel, more monkeys joined them from holes in the walls and side corridors. The walls echoed with the cries of monkey vengeance.
“YOU’LL NEVER GET AVAY viss it, you know,” Mr. Schmidt taunted Parveen as the boy studied the controls of the airship, looking for a way to start the engines. Parveen had taken the precaution of tying Schmidt to the Captain’s chair.
“There must be an ignition switch of some kind.”
“Oh there is, but you’ll never find it.”
“Why do you doubt I will find it?” Parveen asked. “I’m actually quite good at figuring things out.”
“Because it isn’t on ze bridge. It’s in ze engine room, schtupid. Oh darn!” The pirate banged his head against the wooden chairback in frustration. “I just told you vere it vas, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you have. Thank you.”
Parveen quickly ran out the hatchway, leaving Schmidt to curse in his chair. He dashed down the length of the ship, retracing his route from the cargo bay and into the engineering room. It didn’t take him long to find the switch. Crossing the fingers of one hand, he flipped the switch with the other. The engines coughed once, twice, then caught, roaring to life. Parveen ran back through the ship, hoping that Mimi had been able to free the children and Mrs. Francis, too.
Now, you might be thinking, Oh, that Schmidt. What an absolute nincompoop! First he lets Parveen brain him with his own jug, and then he gives away the location of the ignition switch! Certainly, you might be forgiven for thinking he is a nincompoop. You’d be playing right into his hands.
He only told Parveen where the ignition switch was so that he could have an opportunity to free himself from his bonds. Parveen had done the best he could to tie the ropes tightly around Schmidt’s wrists, but he couldn’t have known that before he became a pirate Schmidt was a chiropractor.76 He knew the limits to which the human skeleton might be pushed in an extremity and he knew the limits of his extremities. Grimacing in pain, he dislocated his thumbs, allowing his hands to slip through the ropes. He was free.
Schmidt popped his
thumbs back into their sockets, the joints cracking like gunshots. Then he felt the engines thrum to life through the deck and he grinned evilly.
“Now we’ll see.”
MR. KIPLING OPENED THE GATE to the cavern that served as a prison for the orphans of Windcity. The hapless children huddled together against the far wall, fearing the worst. But when Mimi and Mrs. Francis stepped into the door, a cheer went up!
“Look! It’s Mimi,” some shouted.
“Mrs. Francis! Hurray!” cried others.
“Door open. Yay! Blort!” shouted some toddlers who hadn’t truly grasped sentence structure or grammar.
The children crowded around their rescuers, crying, hugging, and dancing for joy.
“Settle down! Settle down!” Mimi tried to restore some order.
“Quiet, children!” At those two words from Mrs. Francis, silence fell.
“Children,” Mrs. Francis said, “we are being rescued. That doesn’t mean there shall be pushing, shoving, and horseplay. We must follow Mimi and Mr. Kipling.”
“We’d better be going.” Mr. Kipling leaned in the door. The children cowered at the sight of him.
“He’s with us,” Mimi assured the frightened children. “Now let’s git the heck outta here. Parveen is waitin’ on us.”
Mrs. Francis led the children out the door, two by two, holding hands. Mr. Kipling started up the corridor, sword drawn. Mimi brought up the rear. As they passed another cell door, they heard voices inside.
“Let us out! Help! Help!”
“Who’s in there?” Mrs. Francis asked.
“The other cheese masters that Captain Cheesebeard kidnapped,” Kipling said. “We must hurry.”
Mrs. Francis shook her head. “Let them out. They’re coming with us.”
“There isn’t time!”
“No one should be left at the hands of these dastardly ruffians.”
Mr. Kipling was about to protest, but Mimi pointed at the door. “She’s right. Let ’em out!”
So, a moment later, a gaggle of orphans and a confused but grateful pack of cheese masters marched up the corridor past Mrs. Francis’s old cell. The two unfortunate pirates pounded at the door and cursed, but to no avail. Mr. Kipling guided them to the foot of the staircase that led to the outside, and there they stopped short.
Standing at the top of the stairs in the light of the moon was a shocked pirate carrying a basket of food and drink.
“What the …” the pirate gasped. Taking in the sight of the children, Mrs. Francis, Mimi, and the naked blade in Mr. Kipling’s hand, he did what human beings have always done when faced with insurmountable sensory input. He dropped the basket and fled.
“Oh, dear!” Mr. Kipling sprinted up the stairs after the man, shouting over his shoulder as he went, “Get them to the airship!”
He reached the top of the steps, came out into the night air—and caught sight of the pirate making a beeline for the great hall. Knowing he’d never catch him in time, Mr. Kipling turned to the children emerging from the stairs and bellowed, “Hurry! Hurry!”
Mimi and Mrs. Francis hustled the children up the stairs, helping the youngest ones to climb faster. The adults picked up the smallest children. Reaching the top, Mimi and Mrs. Francis joined Mr. Kipling. He had removed his heavy woollen peacoat and his peaked cap, placing them in a little pile on the ground at his feet. He drew his knife. Now he had a sword in one hand and the knife in the other.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Francis demanded, tugging at his arm. “We have to get to the airship.”
“They will be coming any moment. I’ll hold them off as long as I can while you get the others to the ship.”
Mimi picked up a sharp stone. “I’ll stay with ya.”
“No.” Mr. Kipling smiled and laid a hand on her head, ruffling her hair. His tired blue eyes gazed down kindly into her fierce green ones. “You have to go, my dear. Someone must take care of Mrs. Francis.” He turned to the chubby little woman in her now tattered pink dressing gown.
“He’s right, Mimi,” Mrs. Francis said, wiping her eyes. “Let’s get going.”
Mimi reluctantly turned away. “C’mon everybody,” she shouted, “Parveen cain’t wait forever!” She took off in the direction of the warehouse with the cheese masters herding the crowd of children after her.
Mrs. Francis squeezed Mr. Kipling’s arm. “Goodbye,” she said. “I told you … It’s never too late to do something good with your life.”
A roar went up in the great hall.
“Time to go,” Mr. Kipling said. He smiled sadly and turned to face the swarm of pirates pouring out of the doors into the night. Mrs. Francis suddenly flung her arms around Mr. Kipling’s neck and planted a huge kiss on his lips. “Never too late!” she whispered, and ran off as fast as her little legs could carry her.
“Kipling!” Cheesebeard’s voice boomed across the open ground, echoing off the walls of the crater. Mr. Kipling shook off Mrs. Francis’s kiss and faced the Captain. Cheesebeard stood about fifty metres away. The pirates ranged out behind him, waiting for instructions.
Mr. Kipling took a few steps until he stood directly in the path of anyone trying to skirt the lake and pursue the escaping children. The pirates could go around the other way, but it was a longer route and might buy the children more time.
“Captain Cheesebeard,” Mr. Kipling said in a friendly tone, “I’ve decided to tender my resignation.”
“What are you talking about?” Cheesebeard demanded, his face growing red above his greasy facial carpet. “No one resigns from piracy. You’re a pirate and then you die. There’s no resigning.”
Mr. Kipling sliced the air with his sword, taking a couple of practice cuts, then stood in the ready position and smiled. “I guess if resigning isn’t an option, I’ll have to die.”
“You’re a fool, Kipling,” Cheesebeard laughed. “You’ll die for nothing. There’s no way those children will escape. They’ll never even get the airship started!” he laughed loudly and all the pirates joined in.
The engines of the airship chose that instant to roar to life. The laughter stopped.
“Kill the traitor. Then capture the prisoners,” Cheesebeard ordered.
A pirate beside him raised his hand.
“What?” Cheesebeard grated.
“Technically, they aren’t prisoners, Captain. They’re escapees. If they were prisoners they’d still be imprisoned and not escaping and we wouldn’t have to capture them. You follow my logic, Captain?”
Cheesebeard pulled out his sword and ran the man through.
“Point taken,” Cheesebeard smiled, pulling his sword free and directing the dripping blade at Mr. Kipling. “Kill the traitor. Then capture the former prisoners!” he shouted.
“Better,” the dying pirate said and collapsed in a heap.
Mr. Kipling prepared to sell his life dearly as the pirates swiftly closed the distance.
Chapter 31
Mimi dashed towards the warehouse and the airship moored above it. By the time she reached the doors she was easily a hundred metres ahead of the pack. The doors were flung open wide and the two guards she’d seen earlier were nowhere in sight.
“Mimi! Help!” Parveen’s familiar voice sounded from within. Mimi dashed through the doors and looked frantically around.
“Mimi!” The voice came from above. She looked up and saw the hole in the roof and the ladder. By now the others were almost at the warehouse, so she ran to the ladder and scrambled up.
At the top of the ladder she stepped out onto a platform to see Pianoface and Tubaface with their swords out, trying to climb into the airship’s cargo hold. Parveen was desperately attempting to hold them at bay with a long boathook. He sighed with relief when he saw Mimi. Unfortunately, he alerted the guards to her presence. They turned and saw her.
“Look it’s that crazy girl from the orphanage. Where are all these kids coming from?” Tubaface asked in exasperation.
Pianoface shoved him towards Mimi.
“Never mind! You get her, and I’ll take care of this one.”
Mimi didn’t wait. She ran straight at him and drove one of her feet into his chest. He staggered back from the impact, teetering on the edge of the platform and pinwheeling his arms, trying to maintain his balance. Parveen took the opportunity to jab him with the boathook, sending him plunging backwards. Tubaface fell ten metres and crashed through the roof into the warehouse below. His fall was broken by a large wheel of brie.
Pianoface took advantage of Parveen overextending himself with the pole and grabbed hold of it. He pulled with all his strength, tugging Parveen off his feet. The little boy fell down the steps and rolled to a stop at Pianoface’s feet.
“Now I’ve got you!” Pianoface raised his sword above Parveen, preparing to chop the helpless child in two.
Fortunately, Mimi remembered she’d picked up a sharp stone in the last chapter.77 She cocked her arm and fired the missile as hard as she could. THOK! Pianoface’s forehead made a hollow sound like a hammer hitting a coconut. He stood quite still for a moment, then his eyes rolled up into his skull and he thumped onto his back unconscious.
Mimi stepped over to Parveen and extended her hand to him.
“Get up! We’ve gotta get outta here.” She pulled him to his feet.
“What took you so long?” He brushed the dust off his parka.
“Parveen?”
Mrs. Francis had reached the top of the ladder. She practically leapt across the intervening distance and swept Parveen into a crushing hug.
“Oh my little genius! Are you all right?”
“I was,” came the muffled reply. “However, I may be asphyxiated.” Parveen was saved from further mauling by the arrival of the first child. Mrs. Francis reluctantly let go of Parveen. “Everyone aboard as carefully as possible. No pushing. No shoving. There’s plenty of time.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mimi said, looking out towards where Mr. Kipling stood facing the pirates. The tall man was shouting something. The Captain shouted back. The distance was too great for Mimi to hear what was said, but the Captain seemed annoyed. He stabbed the man next to him and then the pirates charged. Mr. Kipling wouldn’t last long.
