The Final Gambit

Home > Childrens > The Final Gambit > Page 10
The Final Gambit Page 10

by Christopher Healy

The Lees both nodded.

  “You want us to turn ourselves in?” Molly asked, incredulous.

  “Of course not,” Cassandra replied. “But we can’t keep doing . . . this.”

  “I have to agree, Molly,” Emmett said. “I mean, there’s nothing you want more for us than success, right? You want us to become big inventors, change the world, get our names in the history books? None of that can happen while we’re on the run.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” Molly said, trying very hard to feel like her world wasn’t falling apart around her. “We can’t live our lives from the back of a stolen police wagon.”

  “What lives?” her mother moaned. “We’ve lost our home and our business.”

  “We can’t go back to school,” Emmett added somberly. “Can’t find the MOI.”

  “We cannot fly,” said Robot.

  “I’m legally dead,” said Captain Lee. “The only things I have left to lose are in this wagon with me.”

  Molly flashed him a bittersweet smile. “Aw, you said ‘things’—plural.”

  “Yes, yes, perhaps you’ve begun to grow on me,” the captain said, cutting her off. “My point is that any hope I had of returning to my old life has been shattered. Perhaps my best path forward is to embrace that. Maybe we all should.”

  “That’s pretty drastic, Papa,” Emmett said. “But . . . I think you might be right.”

  “Right about what? What are you talking about?” Molly didn’t like that Emmett and his father were apparently reading each other’s thoughts the way she and Emmett were supposed to. “Stop with the mysteriousness.”

  “Sorry, I’m just—thinking it through,” Emmett said. “If none of us can return to our old lives, maybe—maybe we start new ones.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time Emmett and I have started fresh,” said the captain. “Emmett was too young to remember, but when we immigrated, we got new homes, new names, new jobs. First in California and then again in New York. It’s an adjustment, but you get used to it.”

  “You want us to go into hiding?” Molly asked. “Like the MOI?”

  “Why not? It’s working for them. They haven’t been recaptured,” Cassandra said with a hint of renewed energy. Molly did not share her enthusiasm. “Oh, Molly, think about it,” Cassandra continued. “Putting all our mistakes behind us? Getting a second chance at happiness? At success? Doesn’t that sound appealing?”

  “Sure, but . . .” But what? Molly wasn’t sure what her argument should be, but she felt pretty darn sure she should have one. Peppers didn’t run and hide; Peppers fought. They had been fighting for so long, though. A break would certainly be nice. And at least they didn’t have to worry about Ambrose Rector anymore. Robot was still in danger of running out of Ambrosium, but if they were living a quiet, cozy, danger-free life where Robot never needed to use his powers, that little smidgen of meteorite he had left could potentially last forever. “We’re not talking about forever, right?” Molly looked up at the others. “We can go back to being ourselves when the government finally comes to its senses and calls off its hounds?”

  “That’s not going to be anytime soon,” Emmett said.

  “But yes,” Cassandra added. “If it’s safe to do so, we can go back someday.”

  Molly shut her eyes tight, then blinked them back open. “So, where do we go?”

  “We need a small town, rural,” said the captain. “Preferably some distance from New York City.”

  “Someplace the Feds wouldn’t think to come looking for us,” Emmett added. “Quiet, calm, slow paced.”

  “Like the Hidden Hearth Inn,” Cassandra said, her voice wistful.

  “No vacations, Mother!”

  “I know,” Cassandra grumbled. “But someplace like that. Someplace peaceful. Not too many people. But lots of green grass and flowers and tweeting birds and maybe an apple tree. And a butterfly lands on one of the apples. And the clouds are shaped like bunnies. And the air smells like blueberries.”

  Molly snorted. “You should’ve worked on the Orphan Train, Mother.”

  “What do you mean?” Captain Lee asked.

  “Last spring, Rector tried to get rid of me by shipping me to Ohio on the Orphan Train,” said Molly. “The ladies who ran the program wanted the kids to feel good about their new homes, so they talked about how wonderfully, fantastically amazing Ohio was going to be. They made it sound just like what you all are describing.”

  Cassandra’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like?”

  “Mother, we’re not—” Then she noticed Emmett scratching his chin. “Seriously?” she said.

  “It would put some distance between us and Clark,” he said.

  “Ohio is a fun name to say,” Robot chimed in. “Oh-hi-oh. Oh-hiiiiii-oh.”

  “Cap, please tell them we are not driving straight to Ohio,” said Molly.

  “Of course not,” said Captain Lee. “We need to stop for supplies first. Ohio is a long trip.”

  “Please tell me you’re all joking,” Molly said. “Please tell me we’re not going to Ohio.”

  11

  A Whole New World

  Buford’s Bend, Ohio, February 21, 1884

  MOLLY HOISTED THE back of her long winter coat and scratched her backside as she approached the splintery old porch of the paint-flaked gray house on the isolated dirt road in Buford’s Bend, Ohio. She longed to ditch the itchy crinoline petticoat that had been driving her mad for weeks, though she couldn’t deny that, as a disguise, the frilly pink dress definitely made her look like, well, not her. Her mother, however, was rather adorable in her gingham-clad guise as an “outdoorsy lady of the countryside.” Her red-and-white checkered dress was certainly more appealing than the drab work clothes that Emmett and his father wore under their woolen outerwear.

  “What do you think?” Captain Lee called as he and Robot unloaded their scant belongings out of the wagon from which they’d weeks earlier scraped off the words Property of US Government.

  Emmett wandered the perimeter of the little one-story home, scanning the bug-eaten, frost-coated wood planks. “I’m having flashbacks to Spurgeon’s place,” he asked. “It’s not going to fall down, is it?”

  “Fixing it up will be part of the fun,” said Captain Lee. A giddy grin took over his face. This was the happiest Molly had seen the man since he was first reunited with his son.

  Molly wasn’t sold on their new home, though. This place was so isolated. And yes, maybe that was the point—but it was going to be a harsh adjustment. Where was the constant hum of chatty pedestrians, the splash of waste buckets being emptied from third-story windows, the angry barks of coach drivers stuck in traffic? At least they still had a horse, so maybe she’d be able to re-create the smell of New York. And there would probably be new noises to replace the old, like crickets or owls or—what else made noise in the country? Angry pigs? She hoped there were angry pigs. That might help make this place less boring. Everyone seemed to agree, though, that they’d only live here as long as they needed to. Which was why Molly had no plans to cut off her search for Nellie Bly or the Mothers of Invention.

  The frozen grass crunched under Robot’s feet as he stepped from the wagon. “Oh dear, I think I broke Ohio,” he said. “You did not tell me the ground here was so fragile.”

  “No worries, Robot,” Emmett said. “It’s just a bit icy.”

  Molly caught herself smiling.

  “This will make a perfect workshop!” her mother cried with glee from the small, ivy-strangled barn that was across the yard from the house.

  “Be careful in there, Mrs. Pepper,” Emmett warned. “We haven’t inspected that barn yet.”

  “Tut-tut, Emmett,” said Cassandra. “It’s Mrs. Salt now, remember?”

  “Still sure you don’t want to rethink that pseudonym?” he asked.

  “It’s too late, I’ve already signed the lease with it,” she replied. “But, look, there’s already a shelf for my tools. And plenty of elbow room. You and I could swing hammers
at the same time without denting each other’s noggins!” She spun in slow circles, taking in the space. “We’ll finally have the room—and the time—to tackle Robot’s problem, Molls. And maybe a chance to rebuild my flying machine. Oh, the things we will create, children!”

  Molly wasn’t sold. “But there’s . . . nothing here,” she grumbled. “Where’s all the stuff? Where are the overflowing gutters? Where are the piles of rotting trash? Where are the rats? Oh, never mind—I see one under the porch.”

  “This place may not have a lot of the stuff we’re used to,” Emmett said, “but have you seen that tree behind the house?”

  “Ooh, that is a nice tree,” Molly admitted. And she was sure it would look even nicer come spring when it actually had some leaves on it. “Can we hang a swing from there?”

  “Absolutely,” said Cassandra. “I will build you the most aerodynamic, state-of-the-art swing the world has ever seen.”

  Molly shrugged. “Okay, I guess this won’t be the worst place in the world.”

  “There is the whole schooling issue, though,” Emmett said with a rueful sigh.

  “It might be too risky to enroll in the local school, but don’t think for a moment that your education will not continue,” Cassandra said with confidence. “The captain and I are each experts in all sorts of things. Classes begin tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you serious, Mother?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to teach us?”

  Cassandra nodded. “See? Living in Ohio will be even better than you thought!”

  “Most importantly, we will be safe here!” Captain Lee raised his arms as if he were trying to hug the fresh air. “We’ve done more than enough to cover our tracks in our travel from New York, and as far as anyone in town knows, this property is being rented by a recluse from Pittsburgh and her household staff.”

  “Yeah, no one pays much attention to workmen or servants,” Emmett said. “If we can’t change that prejudice, we might as well use it to our advantage.”

  “Believe me, we have all the privacy we need,” the captain continued. “According to the man at the real estate office, our nearest neighbor to the east is an eighty-year-old woman who never leaves her house. In the other direction, there’s a family with two young girls, but their house is a half mile down the road and we’ve got plenty of thick trees and brush between us and them. The chance of anybody recognizing us around here is—”

  “Is that Molly Pepper?” came a cry from behind the captain. “Holy crow’s feet! It is! Molly Pepper!”

  Everyone shifted to see the two young girls who had strolled up behind Captain Lee. One was a tiny blonde with dirt on her cheeks and loose hay in her hair, the other taller, with an eagle-like nose and hair that could have been a haystack itself. Both were draped in tweed coats that hung open, unbuttoned, as if the cold meant nothing to them.

  “One hundred percent?” said Molly. “Is that what you were going to say, Cap? The chance of anyone recognizing us is one hundred percent?” While the others’ jaws dropped with dumbstruck fear, Molly grinned deliriously. She knew these girls. Tiny Girl and Mop-Head—that’s what she’d called them in her mind—were two of the kids who’d helped her escape the Orphan Train.

  “Um, Molly, you say? Who’s this Molly you’re asking about?” Cassandra finally said, after clearing her throat. “There’s nobody here by that name. Right, Molly? Oh, drat!”

  “It’s okay, everybody—they’re friends,” Molly said, hugging the girls. “I might never have gotten away from that corrupt Jägerman on the Orphan Train if not for these two. So, I take it you ladies got adopted? You have new families?”

  “One new family,” Tiny Girl announced proudly. “We’re sisters now!”

  “That’s fantastic!” said Molly.

  “Yeah, except Orla snores like an angry pig,” said Mop-Head.

  “Orla!” Molly said happily. “That’s your real name!”

  “They saved your life and you didn’t know their names?” Emmett said.

  “Hey, you’re the kid from the window,” said Mop-Head. “The one who was crying and hanging off the side of that crazy motor-wagon.”

  “Um, yeah, I’m Emmett,” he replied, ignoring the look of horror on his father’s face.

  “We know. We heard all the stories,” said Orla, shaking his hand vigorously and smiling at him as if he were a celebrity. “I’m Orla.”

  “Yeah, we, uh, just covered that,” Emmett said.

  Orla continued shaking his hand. “I’m shorter, so a lot of people assume I’m the younger sister,” she said. “And I am. But only by five months.”

  Mop-Head pulled Orla away and nodded her own greeting. “You can call me Luddie.”

  “Because she doesn’t want anyone calling her Ludmilla,” added Orla.

  Luddie kicked her sister. “You really didn’t know our names?” she asked Molly.

  Molly winced apologetically. “In my head, I just called you Tiny Girl and Mop-Head.”

  The sisters shrugged. “Can’t argue with truth,” said Luddie.

  “Exactly how much do these girls know, Molly?” asked Captain Lee.

  “Well, we don’t know who you are, for one thing,” Luddie said with her hands on her hips. “We assume the lady here is the brilliant, history-making, genius inventor, Cassandra Pepper, but you, mister, were not in any of the stories.”

  “This is my father,” said Emmett. “Captain Wendell Lee.”

  Orla gaped at him. “So, is he a ghost, a vampire, or a Frankenstein?”

  “I am very much alive!” said the captain.

  “Technically, so was Frankenstein’s monster,” Luddie responded, regarding him with suspicion.

  “It turned out Emmett’s father was never dead,” Molly said, recounting the tale with wild enthusiasm. “Just trapped in Antarctica in a cave full of giant eels and horse-sized spider crabs. We had to go there to rescue him.”

  “Eeee!” Orla shrieked with glee. “More story!”

  “Hey, whatever happened with Thomas Edison?” Luddie asked. “Did you stop him from destroying the World’s Fair?”

  “Ooh! Well, it turned out Edison was really an evil madman in a mask named Ambrose Rector and—”

  “Molly,” Cassandra warned.

  “You’re still worried about those government secrecy agreements?” Molly scoffed. “We’re already wanted by the police for a dozen other things.”

  “Eeeeee! More story!”

  “Oh, but that reminds me,” Molly said to the other girls. “We’re living here under assumed names. You can’t tell anyone who we really are. Not even your new parents.”

  “That’s okay,” said Luddie. “We’re really good at secrets.”

  “Our parents don’t even know about our dog,” added Orla.

  Molly’s eyes lit up. “You have a dog?”

  Luddie whistled. “Here, Dr. Stinkums! Here, pooch!”

  A patchy brown mutt exploded from a nearby bush and charged directly at Emmett. “Agh!” Emmett screamed. “It’s gonna—”

  Orla cackled as the dog knocked Emmett down and stood on his chest.

  “Get it off! Get it—” Emmett’s cries changed to giggly laughter as the dog began to lick his face. He scratched the mutt behind its ears. “Aw, you’re a nice doggy, aren’t you?” He looked up at the girls. “Why do you call him Dr. Stinkums? He doesn’t smell bad.”

  “He doesn’t have a license to practice medicine either,” said Orla.

  “Fair point,” said Emmett.

  “I would like to meet the dog,” Robot said, plodding out of the barn to join the group. “I have never met a dog before. I imagine them to feel like hot cotton and grass clippings.”

  “Holy chicken lips!” Luddie shouted. “You guys do have a Frankenstein!”

  “Oh, um, this is Robot,” said Molly. “He’s a metal man who was brought to life by a magical meteor.”

  “Eeeeee! More story!”

  “Molly,” said Cassandra. “Why don’t yo
u and Emmett take your friends inside and, well, tell them everything. Fill them in. Have fun!”

  Molly led Emmett, Orla, Luddie, and Dr. Stinkums into the ramshackle farmhouse. Friends, her mother had said. They were friends, she supposed. Wow, she had multiple friends suddenly. And a dog (sort of). And her own room. And a potential tree swing. Maybe she really could do this, she said to herself. For as long as they needed to, anyway.

  12

  The Simple Life

  BY MARCH, ORLA and Luddie (and Dr. Stinkums) had become regular fixtures at the Salt farm. They spent so much time there, in fact, that Captain Lee frequently questioned whether their adoptive family actually existed. He seemed particularly suspicious when the girls began showing up in the morning to join Emmett and Molly for their homeschooling.

  “Won’t someone be expecting you at your regular school?” he asked.

  “Who knows?” Luddie said with a shrug. “But believe me, we’re gonna learn a lot more from your lessons than we would at that place.”

  “You don’t even know what I plan to teach today,” said Captain Lee. “What if it’s something you’ve already covered at your school?”

  “Oh, you’re assuming we’ve paid attention there,” said Orla. “Yeah, not so much. Teach away, Professor Captain!”

  Molly could honestly say it was the most fun she’d ever had at school.

  With the warming of the weather, April became a time for rebuilding and remodeling. Everyone helped out, whether Lees, Peppers, or Crustaceans (the supposed family name of Orla and Luddie). There were roofs to be sealed, walls to be painted, and fences to be mended. But top priority was the barn, and in just a matter of weeks, Cassandra had the most spacious, most spectacular workshop of her career. Molly, who normally grumbled and gritted her teeth when tasked with hammer-and-nail-type jobs, found the construction process almost frighteningly enjoyable. Perhaps, she thought, she finally understood the concept of pride in one’s work. That was when she spent three days turning a pickle jar lid and some loose chain links into a medallion, onto which she etched the title “World’s Greatest Inventor”; she then presented it to her mother in a grand ceremony under the big tree.

 

‹ Prev