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3 Below

Page 13

by Patrick Carman


  When they were through, Mr. Pilf turned to the group.

  “I’m sorry, truly I am. You deserve better. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Mr. Pilf stood beside a gold fireman’s pole, and after a formal handshake with Merganzer, he looked back at the rest of the group once more. He nodded, gave a half smile, and grabbed hold of the pole. Then he jumped into the hole and started sliding, on his way to the library below, where he would be reunited with all the other hotel managers who had been disqualified from the competition.

  “How did you come to have the phone?” Merganzer asked Alfred.

  “It kept buzzing in Mr. Pilf’s pocket on the rides in the realm of MONDAR. We were seatmates on that part of the adventure, so it wasn’t hard to miss. I suppose Ms. Sparks was a little too curious for her own good.”

  “Well, it was a very nice piece of sleuthing, Alfred. Well done.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “And don’t worry too much about our Mr. Pilf,” Merganzer went on. “It can’t be easy having an older sister the likes of Ms. Sparks. He won’t be running the Spiff, but I’ll find something for him to do here, in the field of wacky inventions. I have a feeling he’s ready for a change of scenery.”

  “That’s very fair of you, sir. Vary fair indeed.”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?”

  “I do.”

  Merganzer looked longingly at his watch, as if he wished he were already working on a theme park or a new invention or some other very big thing.

  Leo stood up from his chair.

  “I’ve got something to say.”

  He looked at Lucy and smiled, then at his best friend and brother, Remi. And finally his gaze landed on Alfred, who had been so much help during their journey to the top of the new Merganzer D. Whippet hotel.

  “I’m only a kid,” Leo began. “And, to be honest, I’m kind of attached to the Whippet Hotel. I don’t think I’m ready to run the Whippet Empire. But I think someone else is.”

  “Go on,” Merganzer said, sitting down in his furry green chair with a look of curiosity on his face.

  “Alfred Whitney exhibited bravery, leadership, and teamwork from beginning to end. He’s your man. He should be running the Whippet Empire.”

  “And he knows how to care for a duckling,” Lucy said. “I second the nomination.”

  “Can we come back and visit the dinosaurs and ride the rides even if Leo isn’t the winner?” Remi asked.

  Merganzer didn’t answer right away. He looked at Leo, long and thoughtful, then at Alfred, who was resting both palms on his duck-headed cane.

  “What do you say, Alfred?” Merganzer asked, not sure if the manager of the Paddington Hotel was up for the much bigger job.

  “It would be a great, great honor to serve you in this way, Mr. Whippet,” Alfred said. “But I do have one condition, and I’m afraid it’s non-negotiable.”

  Merganzer raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

  Alfred turned in his chair so that he was facing Lucy.

  “I can’t claim that I’ve ever had a wife or children, so I don’t really know what I’m doing. And I had a tough go of it there for a while, after my days on the football field. I was aimless, a little sad — lost, I suppose. And then someone by the name of George Powell found me at work as the doorman at the Paddington. He took a great interest in my future. It took a lot of work and a long time, but eventually, he asked me if I would manage that fine hotel.”

  “Hey! I’m a doorman!” Remi shouted. “Maybe I’ll run a hotel someday.”

  Everyone smiled, because even Lucy knew that Remi had a long way to go before he was ready to run a hotel.

  “Mr. Whippet’s hotel has been my whole life these many years, and I’ve been very happy there,” Alfred went on. “But what I’d really like, what would make me so very happy, would be if you, Lucy, would come with me. Will you do that?”

  Lucy started to cry. She was not the crying type, so looking back and forth among all her new friends, she also laughed, wiping her face as the tears came down.

  “I’m handy,” she said.

  “I know you are,” Alfred said. “You would be so much help to me.”

  “And you can come visit us at the Whippet whenever you want!” Leo said, maybe a little too excitedly.

  “You like this girl or what?” Remi joked, but it was true. Leo was smitten.

  Lucy couldn’t stop smiling even as the tears kept running down her face in little tracks. She nodded, and Alfred gave her a hanky from his jacket pocket.

  “My only condition is that you help me adopt Lucy,” Alfred said to Merganzer. “I’m going to need her to help me run all these hotels properly.”

  Merganzer smiled one of his very big smiles.

  “I do like your cane,” he said. “Wherever did you get it?”

  “From you, of course. Don’t you remember? It was my holiday present only last year.”

  “Oh yes, I suppose I did give it to you,” Merganzer said slyly. “Have you ever taken the top off to see what’s inside?”

  Alfred examined his cane, then took the golden duck head in one hand and tried to turn it.

  “You’ll need to turn it harder than that,” Merganzer said.

  Alfred’s hands were a little on the old side and sometimes didn’t grip as well as he’d hoped they would.

  “Lucy, could you open this for me?” he asked.

  Lucy wiped the last of her tears and took the cane without hesitation. She dug around inside her maintenance overalls and found two pairs of rubber-coated pliers.

  “These are the best. They don’t leave scratches on doorknobs and kitchen handles.”

  “I could use some of those,” Leo said, for he liked interesting tools every bit as much as Lucy did.

  She had one set of pliers on the cane itself and the other on the golden duck head in no time flat. A few gentle torques and she’d broken the seal and the head was spinning. She put her tools back in her pockets and handed the cane back to Alfred.

  “It’s ready for you now,” she said.

  Alfred nodded with a grin and turned the duck head round and round until it came apart from the cane. When he lifted it off, there was a long, thin neck attached. He handed the cane to Lucy to hold, and turned the gold neck of the duck sideways, for there were words engraved there.

  “‘The keeper of this cane is,’” Alfred started. He had to turn the neck to read the rest, and as he did, Merganzer finished the message for him: “‘Emperor of all Whippet hotels.’”

  Alfred blushed.

  “It’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?” he said.

  “Completely,” Merganzer agreed. “But president just sounds so … ordinary.”

  “But why did you give it to me all those months ago?” Alfred asked.

  “Because I knew, long ago, that you were the man for the job. You’ve been very good to me, Alfred. You’ve earned it. I just knew you’d prove yourself loyal and trustworthy in a competition such as this. And I had some hope, where Lucy was concerned, so there was that.”

  Now Alfred was starting to cry, but it wasn’t because he’d been put in charge of the Whippet Empire.

  “I never would have guessed there was so much treasure in the world.”

  Alfred looked at Merganzer like the true friend he was, then his gaze fell on Leo and Remi, whom he trusted completely, and finally on Lucy, the real fortune in the deal.

  Merganzer knelt down next to Lucy and watched as Phil popped his head out and looked around. He’d awoken from a nap and let out a hilarious T. rex yawn.

  “I’m afraid Phil will need to go back to his home,” Merganzer said. “He’ll be safer there. But you can come visit. I hope you will.”

  “And ride the Tree Dragon?” she asked hopefully.

  “And ride the Tree Dragon, of course,” Merganzer replied, looking up at Remi and Leo. “What fun would the rides be if there were no children to enjoy them?”

  When
Mr. Pilf landed in the library, he found all the other hotel managers sitting in cozy chairs, reading books and sipping tea. He had expected to see them bickering, climbing up the walls with boredom, and possibly throwing punches at one another. Hotel managers could be unpredictable when they were forced to spend time locked in a room together, but he had to admit, they were acting … unpredictably.

  “Hello, everyone. I’ve just arrived by sliding down a firehouse pole. Also, I did not win the competition.”

  Miss Harrington, who had earlier tricked Mr. Pilf into searching for her hat, looked up from her book. Her dark hair was up in a bun, like a librarian, and she was wearing reading glasses. For an instant, Mr. Pilf thought she looked older than before, and this he liked.

  “I’m relieved you won’t be our boss. Can you tell us who will be?”

  “Probably that kid, Leo Fillmore,” Mr. Pilf said. “He’s very resourceful.”

  “Really?” Miss Sheezley asked. She sipped her tea like a princess, setting her book across her lap.

  “Or Alfred,” Mr. Pilf said. He flopped down in the one remaining chair and picked up the first book that caught his eye.

  “A Wrinkle in Time,” he said, stroking his long, thin beard. “By Madeleine L’Engle. I haven’t read a book in ages.”

  “It’s not so easy at first,” E. J. Bosco said, harrumphing as if he had a whole shrimp stuck sideways in his throat. “During the first hour you’ll fall asleep at least four times. After that it gets easier, more relaxing.”

  “I do wish Alfred would take over,” Miss Harrington said. “He seems the most suited to the task. And who wants to be managed by a kid? That sounds intolerable.”

  Mr. Pilf shrugged, flipping to the first page of The Thin Man. “I’m not sure it’s going to matter for me. I’m probably out of the hotel business.”

  “But why?” Miss Harrington asked. She looked stricken, like one of those women who covers her feelings for someone by treating them like dirt.

  “It’s a long story that would probably make a good book,” Mr. Pilf said. “Full of deceit and dastardly plots and monstrous characters.”

  “Oooh,” Miss Sheezley said. “And is there some romance in there? Because if there is, I’ll read it.”

  “I’m afraid there’s no romance,” Mr. Pilf said.

  “None whatsoever? Not even a scrap?” Miss Harrington asked wistfully.

  Mr. Pilf and Miss Harrington looked at each other as if maybe there would be a little romance in Mr. Pilf’s story after all, and that alone made him feel quite a lot better.

  “I believe I’ll read a little bit about this thin man and see what I think,” Mr. Pilf said. He glanced at E. J. Bosco, who had fallen asleep like a walrus on a beach.

  “Tea?” Miss Harrington asked, holding the pot.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Mr. Pilf answered.

  And then he and all the rest of the hotel managers who were still awake kicked their feet up and lost themselves entirely in the books they were holding.

  It was the first of many reading vacations they would share together on orders from the new head of the Whippet Empire.

  In the four months that followed the competition, a great many people speculated about what Merganzer D. Whippet was busy working on. Even Leo Fillmore, who was widely regarded as one of Merganzer’s very closest friends, didn’t have the slightest idea what Merganzer had been up to. No one had been invited back to the field of wacky inventions, and no one had tried to find their way back to the place where a remarkable hotel had been built in a day. And so it was that a party in which Merganzer was the special guest was bound to be met with profound curiosity. What had he been doing all those months? Was he building another hotel in the South of France? Or maybe he was busy developing new rides for that theme park everyone hoped he would build. Or inventing things like furry candy, antigravity rooms, and tiny dinosaurs.

  It was impossible to say.

  Mr. Fillmore and Pilar were putting the finishing touches on decorations around the Whippet Hotel grounds.

  “I’m very glad he chose to have a party here. Is exciting, no?” Pilar asked.

  “I’m just happy the Whippet is running smoothly and the boys didn’t break anything this week.”

  Mr. Fillmore was the head maintenance man, and while Leo was not a breaker of many things, his brother made up for it in spades. Leo often took blame for things Remi broke in the hotel, just to even things up a little.

  The sun was down and thousands of lights, strung by Mr. Phipps, the gardener, were draped around the grounds. All the bushes carved into the shapes of animals were covered in blankets of white lights, and the pond was alive with floating paper lanterns.

  “So you really have no idea why he’s coming out of hiding?” E. J. Bosco cracked open a fortune cookie, one of many in a big glass bowl on a table, and tossed the crumbled pieces into his mouth.

  “None whatsoever,” Miss Sheezley said. She was carrying a tote bag full of books she’d brought to hand out, things she’d read and loved in recent weeks. She had her eye on the new manager of the Spiff, a regal, fully bearded gentleman by the name of Fitzpatrick, and wandered off in order to give him a book she’d picked out for him. He was Scottish — that much she knew — and she’d purchased a rare first edition of The Expedition of Humphry Clinker (the name alone was a conversation starter).

  E. J. Bosco opened his fortune and read it to Alfred, who stood next to him.

  “You will prosper in the field of wacky inventions.”

  Alfred laughed. “I think that one was meant for Mr. Pilf.”

  One thing they all knew for sure was that Mr. Pilf was employed by Merganzer in the field of wacky inventions, though again, no one had the first clue what Pilf was doing there.

  “Thank you for all the help, these past months,” Alfred said to Bosco. “You’ve been truly invaluable.”

  E. J. Bosco had been managing his own hotel, the Boomtown, and the one left by Mr. Pilf, the Spiff, ever since the competition had come to an end.

  “I like the Spiff,” E. J. Bosco said. “It’s no Boomtown, but I whipped it into shape for Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

  “I’m sure you did. I have high hopes Mr. Fitzpatrick will adequately fill your large shoes.”

  Alfred looked across the grounds at Fitzpatrick, who, it just so happened, had played a little football back in the day. Alfred thought his old Scottish friend would do a marvelous job with the Spiff Hotel.

  “How are things with Lucy?” E. J. Bosco asked. “She fixed the air-conditioning at the Boomtown last week. Did a nice job.”

  “She’s as handy as Leo Fillmore, and that’s saying something. Poor Leo is in a losing battle trying to fix everything Remi breaks. I think they’re good for each other, don’t you?”

  They both looked across the pond and saw Lucy, Leo, and Remi tossing bits of bread to a gathering of ducks. Remi started honking like a goofball as Lucy and Leo stole a glance at each other. They were all as happy as could be, and that made both men smile with gladness.

  “Looks like it’s time for me to get ready,” Alfred said. “How’s my tie?”

  “Ready for what?” E. J. Bosco had no idea what Alfred was talking about, but he straightened the tuxedo’s bow tie all the same. “What are you not telling me?”

  “Look to the sky and you’ll have your answer very soon.”

  And so E. J. Bosco did look to the sky, and there he saw an airship come suddenly into view. It had been flying secretly overhead for some time, but now its lights were turning on as it came within fifty feet of the grounds.

  “Here comes Merganzer!” Remi shouted, and all the guests looked skyward as a rope ladder was tossed overboard.

  Captain Rickenbacker, who had been quietly milling about the darker edges of the grounds, appeared behind Mr. Fitzpatrick.

  “Cover me. I’m going in.”

  Captain Rickenbacker loped toward the ladder, trying to be secretive, and then darted behind a bush shaped like a giraffe.r />
  “He’s unusual,” Fitzpatrick said.

  “Par for the course around here,” Miss Sheezley felt obligated to say. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “AHOY!” Merganzer called, leaning precariously far over a basket more suited for thirty people than two. “Coming down!”

  “Be careful!” Lucy called.

  Everyone expected to see Merganzer come down alone, since Mr. Powell would need to man the airship. So they were all surprised when Mr. Powell came down first, followed by Merganzer.

  “You didn’t leave a monkey in charge up there, did you?” asked Ingrid, the keeper of the jungle under the Whippet Hotel. She was standing with Dr. Flart and Mr. Carp, who were both holding bottles of Flart’s Fizz.

  “You’re looking well, Doctor,” Merganzer offered, though really, Flart looked pale as usual. He lived in a dungeon, so it was to be expected. “And you, Mr. Carp, I have need of your services in the field of wacky inventions. We’ll talk.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Mr. Carp said, his trim mustache wiggling back and forth as he contemplated what madness he might be drawn into next.

  Merganzer was tall and Ingrid was short, so he had to lean way down as he took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.

  “Ingrid, charming as usual. We must have tea sometime.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said, blushing.

  “No, no — only you. The monkeys have been a marvelous help to me these past few months. I couldn’t be happier.”

  This made Ingrid smile, because she trained the orange-tailed Leprechaun monkeys and loved it when her work was appreciated.

  “Everyone gather around — they’re coming down!” Mr. Powell shouted.

  “Who’s coming down?” E. J. Bosco asked.

  “Who, indeed?” Merganzer said with a wily smile.

  A man in a tuxedo started down the rope ladder. Remi, who had come running from the other side of the pond with Leo and Lucy, was the first to shout the man’s name.

  “Mr. Pilf? What’s up, my man?”

 

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