by Bill Myers
In fact, it grew so loud that it almost drowned out Melissa and Sean’s screaming . . . almost. But it was loud enough to distract the knight. He looked up just in time to see a crazy scientist in a lab coat and helicopter tennis shoes appear over their heads.
“It’s Doc!” Melissa cried. “Doc is here!”
Suddenly Jeremiah popped back onto Melissa’s watch. He was looking up at Doc and shouting orders. “Five degrees port. . . three degrees starboard . . .” And with each order he shouted, Doc drew closer and closer. “Lower . . . lower . . . easy. . .”
The knight was so distracted that Melissa spun away and broke from its grip, but only for a second. It grabbed her again, pulling her in and preparing to . . . preparing to . . . well, she wasn’t sure what it was preparing to do, though she figured it probably wouldn’t be a lot of fun.
But there was no need to worry. Doc had swooped in close enough to give the knight a good solid kick in the back of the shoulders. It staggered forward.
Doc rose up and dropped down again, giving it another kick . . . and then another.
The knight continued to stumble and stagger until it finally released Melissa and Sean.
They started running . . . past the gas can . . . past the burned-out trail of gas . . . past the pickup . . . past the—
“Hey, wait a minute,” Sean yelled. “Wait a minute!”
Melissa slowed to a stop. She leaned over, gasping for breath.
“What are we doing?” he yelled.
“Running for our lives?” she offered.
“No . . . no. We can’t catch that knight by running away from it.”
“We can’t catch it by getting killed, either.”
They looked back at the knight, who was still being dive-bombed by Doc.
“We gotta help Doc!” he insisted. “We gotta finish the job! We gotta capture the knight!”
“No way!” Melissa shouted. “We can’t catch it! There’s no way we can . . .” But she came to a stop. Her brother was no longer listening. He was looking into the back of the pickup . . . at the long piece of coiled rope.
“Absolutely not,” she protested. “If you think for one—”
“Misty.” He reached for the rope. “If you grab one end and—”
“You can’t possibly expect us to—”
“I’ll grab the other end—”
“Sean . . .”
“There’s no reason why we can’t circle around that thing and tie it up.”
Melissa shook her head.
“Why not?”
“ ‘Cause I don’t like dying, that’s why.”
“You see how slowly it moves.”
“No.”
“Misty . . .”
That’s when she made her mistake. That’s when she looked into his eyes. He was giving her that puppy-dog look—the one he always used when he needed her help. “Doc’s over there risking her life for us,” he insisted. “We can’t desert her.”
Against her better judgment, she looked back to where Doc was still dive-bombing the knight. Somehow she knew she’d already lost the argument.
“Everybody’s depending onus . . .we can’t let them down.”
Slowly, she turned back to her brother. He was already holding out the rope to her.
“It’s time to face our fears, sis.” He gave a half smile, obviously fighting back his own uneasiness. “It’s time you and me . . . it’s time we both look into that lion’s mouth.”
Melissa hated it when he was right. Particularly when it meant major bodily damage. But she agreed—it had to be done. Reluctantly, she reached out and took one end of the rope.
“All right!” Sean shouted. “Let’s do it!” They turned to face the knight. “Let’s bag ourselves a lion!”
The two started running toward the knight, spreading out the rope until it was taut across the ground. When it reached the knight’s feet, Sean shouted, “Now, Misty! Start circling now!”
She cut in from the left, and Sean cut in from the right.
At first the knight, who was still preoccupied with the buzzing Doc, didn’t understand what they were doing. It wasn’t until they’d crossed behind it and started tightening the loop that it realized they were trying to snag it. A problem that it solved by simply stepping over the rope as it passed under its feet.
“We’ve got to get closer!” Sean yelled. “If we’re going to tie it up, we gotta get closer and pull tighter.” He moved nearer to the center of the rope and motioned for Melissa to do the same.
She wasn’t crazy about getting any closer to the knight but knew her brother was right. If you’re going to look into the lion’s mouth, you can’t do it long distance. She whispered another prayer as she followed Sean’s lead, moving up the rope, until she was only a few feet from the dreaded knight.
“Now!” Sean shouted. “Circle around!”
Once again they circled the knight, this time wrapping it around its knees. They passed each other as they completed the first loop.
“Way to go!” Sean yelled. Then in his typical bragging manner he looked back over his shoulder and shouted at the knight. “We got you now, you pile of bolts!”
And they might have had it, too . . . if Sean had done a little more looking and a lot less bragging. But he didn’t. . . which meant he didn’t see the rock in front of him . . . which meant he tripped over that rock . . . which meant he fell and sprawled out face first onto the ground.
The knight quickly took advantage of the situation, slipping the loop down off its knees and over its feet. Once free, it started toward Sean.
“Look out!” Melissa screamed. “Sean, look out!”
But Sean wasn’t moving fast enough, so she reversed directions. Now she was running back at the knight, barely ducking under its swinging arm, then wrapping another loop around it, this time much higher.
Sean rolled away and scrambled to his feet. “Way to go!” he shouted. “Again! Let’s do it again!”
Melissa panted for breath as she joined her brother in circling the knight again, so close she could hear the thing gasping for its own breath.
They finished the second loop and went in for a third. If ever they were looking into the lion’s mouth, it was now. They were so close they could have touched it.
“Now pull!” Sean shouted.
Before the knight could react, they pulled on the rope, tightening it around its waist and legs. It bent over, trying to free itself, but it was too late. They pulled and it staggered -- one step, two steps, three. . .
“Pull harder!” Sean shouted. “Pull harder!”
Melissa tugged with everything she had. The rope tightened, completely binding the knight’s knees and causing the giant suit of armor to finally topple to the ground with a resounding crash.
But the job wasn’t over. They worked fast, circling the knight again and again, making a tangled, knotted web impossible for it to break out of.
Off in the distance, Melissa caught a glimpse of an approaching police car. “How’d they know we were here?” she asked.
Sean looked then and shook his head.
Suddenly little Jeremiah popped back on to her watch and flashed his world-famous grin. “Even us chickens know how to peck out 9—1—1!”
Melissa laughed. “You put in the call?”
He nodded proudly.
“Nice work,” she said.
“Thanks, but you know how Doc hates crowds.”
Melissa nodded and glanced over at Doc, who was hovering off to the side, nervously watching the police car pull to a stop.
Jeremiah continued, “So it’s definitely time for the two of us to make like a tree and molt.”
Melissa chuckled. “It’s leaf.’ The saying is, ‘Make like tree and leaf.’ ”
Jeremiah nodded. “Whatever. The point is, we’re history. So we’ll see ya later, crocodile.” And then, just like that, he was gone.
Melissa looked over at Doc. She was already turning around and heading for hom
e.
“All right, guys . . .”
Melissa turned to see the policemen approaching. “We got your call. We’ll take it from here.” She glanced over at Sean, who was already handing his end of the rope to the other officer.
“Boy, are we glad to see you!” he exclaimed.
“So this is the infamous Sir Richard Falcrest?” the first officer said. He stooped down to the fallen armor for a closer look. “The one who’s been doing all the robberies.”
Sean took a breath and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“So where’s its head?”
The second officer, who had already pulled his revolver from his holster, addressed the knight. “Okay, pal, let’s get this suit of armor off and find out how visible the rest of you is.”
“Don’t shoot!” a frightened voice cried from inside. “I’ll take off the armor. I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t shoot.”
Melissa and Sean exchanged glances. Suddenly the fearless ghost didn’t sound so fearless.
The first officer reached down and started loosening the breastplate. Even now part of Melissa was afraid that when they opened it up, there would be nothing inside. But when they removed the plate, she saw lying helplessly inside . . . Mr. Jennings, the museum’s curator!
“So it was you!” Sean cried. “No wonder. You could get to the suit of armor anytime you wanted.” He glanced over at Melissa. “And look, he’s so short his head doesn’t even stick up above the breastplate.”
“Yes, it was me,” Jennings snarled. “And I would have pulled it off if you kids hadn’t gotten in the way.”
“But why?” Melissa asked. “What were you trying to ‘pull off’?”
The officers continued unwinding the ropes as Jennings spoke. “My brother Robert owns this steel mill. It’s been going broke for years. We planned on burning it down to collect the insurance money.”
“But why did you rob all those other places?” Sean asked.
“And try to scare everybody?” Melissa added.
“To divert suspicion. I wanted people to blame the fire on the knight just like they did the robberies . . . as part of his revenge.”
Once the ropes were off, the police pulled Jennings out of the bottom portion of armor. They helped him to his feet and started walking him toward their car.
“But. . .” Sean turned to Melissa and frowned, “if his head only came up to the suit’s breastplate, how did he see?”
Melissa stooped down to the armor for a closer look. “Like this,” she answered as she stuck her finger through two small holes drilled into the chest. “We couldn’t see them when the armor was on display because they were covered up by his shield.”
Sean nodded and looked back at Jennings as the police eased him into the backseat of their car. “So . . . not only was our knight not a knight, but he wasn’t invisible, either.”
Melissa nodded, still staring at the fallen armor. “It’s just like Dad said . . . this was just another roaring lion without any teeth.”
The police shut the back car door, and the first officer called over to them, “Can you kids drop by the station tomorrow? We need to do a little more talking.”
“Yes, sir,” Sean answered, “we’ll be there.”
“And I’d be getting home if I were you,” the second officer said. “It’s getting pretty dark.”
“Yes, sir,” Melissa replied. “We just need to drop by our dad’s station first. . . then we’ll be on our way.”
The officer nodded as he climbed into the car. But before shutting the door, he added, “Oh, and kids?”
“Yes, sir?” Sean and Melissa both answered.
He broke into a gentle grin. “Nice work.”
Epilogue
SUNDAY, 20:09 PST
“And that’s all there is to report on the national scene,” Mr. Hunter said, speaking into the microphone. “And in local news—” He suddenly came to a stop as Herbie entered the broadcast booth, waving a note.
“Excuse me . . . I’ve just been handed an important bulletin.”
He quickly scanned the note, and his eyes widened. Then he cleared his throat and continued. “In local news, police have a suspect in the recent invisible knight robberies. Edgar Jennings, curator of the Middleton Museum, was arrested only a half hour ago as he attempted to set fire to the Pierce and Jennings Steel Mill. He was wearing a suit of armor taken from the museum. Police were assisted in the capture by two agents from . . . the Bloodhounds, Inc. Detective Agency.”
Mr. Hunter set the note down and continued speaking into the mike. “That’s the news in Middelton. My name is Robert Hunter, and those detectives you just heard about? They’re my children, Sean and Melissa. Now it’s back to music with 101 harmonicas playing Ode to Joy from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.”
The music started, and Mr. Hunter was out of the broadcast booth in a flash. “Herbie, what is all this about?”
The engineer shrugged and nodded toward the lunchroom, where Melissa and Sean sat, eagerly waiting.
“Hey, Dad,” Melissa grinned.
“Hope you didn’t mind us writing the news bulletin,” Sean added, “but we figured you should have the first scoop.”
Dad pulled up a chair and straddled it. “Let me get this straight. You two solved the case of the invisible knight?”
They nodded enthusiastically.
He shook his head in wonder. “That’s amazing.”
“All we did was practice what you preached,” Melissa said.
Dad looked at her.
“You said with God on our side, we had nothing to fear.”
Sean added, “So we looked the lion in the mouth, and you were right . . .”
“I was?’’
“Yup’” Melissa grinned. “When we got close enough to it, we saw that it didn’t have any teeth.”
Dad stared at Sean, then Melissa, then back at Sean again. They couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like he was starting to tear up.
“Dad . . .” Melissa asked, “are you all right?”
He wiped his eyes and glanced away. “Yeah, uh. . .” Then he looked back up. “I’m just really proud of you guys. Not only for solving the case . . . but for having that type of faith.”
“All in a day’s work,” Sean said, clasping his hands behind his head and looking anything but humble.
“Oh.” Dad reached into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper. “I got this note from Dr. Troast.”
Melissa felt her throat tighten, wondering what news the veterinarian had.
Dad grinned. “It sounds like Slobs is going to make it. She’ll be home in just a few days.”
“All right!” Sean and Melissa high-fived.
Dad rose from his chair. “Listen, I’m just wrapping up here. Why don’t you load your bikes into the van, and I’ll take you home.”
“Deal,” Sean said.
“Sounds good to me,” Melissa added.
With that they rose and headed toward the door. Unfortunately, this was exactly the same door Herbie was entering with another one of his famous ham, tuna, cheese, dill pickle, and whatever-else-was-left-in-the-station’s-refrigerator sandwiches.
Well, he had been entering with the sandwich. Now he was busy watching it sail through the air. Everyone looked on with awe as it hit the broadcast window with a splat and slowly oozed down the glass.
For a moment there was dead silence. Then someone snickered, then someone else, until finally everyone in the room broke out laughing. Even Herbie. Because as nice as it was to know that we don’t have to be afraid with God on our side, it was also good to see that some things in life never really change . . .
Be sure to Read All the Bloodhounds, Inc. Books!
The Ghost of KRZY
The Mystery of the Invisible Knight
Phantom of the Haunted Church
Invasion of the UFOs
Fangs for the Memories
The Case of the Missing Minds
The Secret of the Ghost
ly Hot Rod
I Want My Mummy!
The Curse of the Horrible Hair Day
The Scam of the Screwball Wizards
The Mystery of the Melodies from Mars
Room with a Boo
A note from Bill Myers
Folks ask me why, when I write more thought-provoking novels for adults like, The Face of God, Eli, or The God Hater, do I also write for kids. There are a couple reasons.
For starters, my adult projects do little if any preaching. They are mostly to explore God. I set out with my reader to investigate some aspect of His greatness. And, often, I’m amazed and astonished at what we find. I’ve tried writing more mainstream, but seriously, it is so boring. Why would I want to write some steamy romance or cliché car chase, when I can explore the most complex and fascinating Being in the universe?
But my kid and teen projects are a little different. Like Proverbs, they’re more instructional. I’ve found the stories that have stayed with me the longest and have had the greatest impact upon my life have been the ones I’ve heard as a child. As exciting and glamorous as it is to write books and movies for adults, if I’m serious about impacting lives with truths that will stick, then I think of children. If I’m serious about my love for people, helping them lay down a solid foundation they can build upon the rest of their lives, then it’s children.
There’s another reason . . . I like to have fun. Friends say there is an innocence and playfulness about me. That may be true. But those who know me best actually complain I think too much. (That’s one of the reasons my wife does most of the driving. If it were up to me, we’d never get to where we’re going because I’m so lost in thought). Maybe both are accurate . . . I do love to think and maybe the playfulness releases the steam so I don’t blow up.
And finally, since I’m in a confessional mood, a quick note about comedy. Even as a teen I found comedy was a great way to make points and avoid fights. If you can get the bully to laugh at you, he may forget why he wants to pulverize you. “Hey, the dude’s an idiot, how can I take him seriously?” And he can’t. At least not me, the person. But whatever truth I’ve managed to pass on to him usually does stay. Kinda like the court jester in the old days. They’d point out the king’s ignorance but wouldn’t get busted because, “Hey, I’m just a fool, remember?”
