Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Brainstormin' Help
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Get to Know Your Character(Popcorn Served)
(As they walk along, Squirrel begins whistling the "Hesitating Blues.")M: (Sings along.) Tell me, howwww long will I haaaave to wait?
Swamp Gas: That's very annoying.
M: You don't like blues?
Swamp Gas: You and Squirrel are going to attract attention, and I'm not sure we want to meet what lives down here in the dark.
(Squirrel stops whistling.)
Swamp Gas: (To M.) I'd suggest you be ready with a fireball when something shows up.
Squirrel: She's a bossy old girl, isn't she?
M: (Looks at Swamp Gas.) How did you get here, anyway.
Swamp Gas: (Shrugs.) One minute I was tied to a railroad track. The next thing I knew, I was hovering in a swamp.
Squirrel: Were you a vivacious blonde?
Swamp Gas: Of course I was. Those are the only women who ever get tied to railroad tracks. (Sighs.) In the next life, I want to be a brunette.
(Suddenly, they realize that they're surrounded by dark shapes.)
Squirrel: (In a low voice.) I think we'd better assume battle formation. (Pulls something from a tiny scabbard.)
M: (Curiously.) What's that?
Squirrel: My trusty Parker pen.
M: (Laughs.) A lot of good that will do!
Squirrel: (Glances up wryly.) Everyone knows the pen is mightier than the sword!
(Swamp Gas rises and hovers above M and Squirrel. Hooded figures dressed in black robes close in.)
M: If Squirrel hadn't started whistling, we wouldn't be in this mess.
Squirrel: (Grunts.) Apparently, not everybody likes Louis Armstrong.
Dark Figure: (In a hollow, mechanical voice.) Come peacefully and you will not be harmed!
Swamp Gas: (To M and Squirrel.) I don't know about you, but for some reason I don't believe him.
Squirrel: (Shakes his head.) They say you never trust people anymore after you've been tied to a track and a train has cut you to pieces. (He takes aim with his pen. A small beam of laser light cuts the darkness. There's a deep-throated yelp as one of the figures puts his hand over his eye.)
M: Fine shot, Squirrel!
Squirrel: (Proudly.) I was an expert marksman in my day.
(In M's upturned palm, a ball of fire appears, turning like a little planet. He hurls it, and several of the shapes bursts into flame. Horrendous shrieks echo in the gloom and robes burst into flame.)
Squirrel: That's a neat little trick!
M: Comes in handy in a dungeon.
(In the light of the flames, the robed figures can be seen backing away in confusion, into the shadows. M and Squirrel watch them in a reddish glow that comes from above.)
Squirrel: (Glancing up.) Uh oh.
M: What? (Following Squirrel's gaze, he sees that the will-o'-the-wisp is no longer a pale green, but has turned a menacing red, like a tiny thunderhead.)
Squirrel: I have a feeling Penelope isn't entirely pleased with the situation.
(Amid claps of thunder that echo rumbling in the weird atmosphere like cannon fire, electrical discharges issue like chains of lightning from the cloud of gas, striking the hooded figures, all of which soon lie motionless on the floor.)
Squirrel: Look! (He points. In the shadows, a few rods away, can be seen a girl walking silently, as though in sleep. As they watch, she turns and disappears.)
M: Who do you suppose that was?
(Squirrel merely shakes his head, baffled.) These attackers (he indicates the figures lying dead) were sent by Nightmare.
(Beside them, Penelope has resumed dim, her greenish phosphorescence.)
M: What does Nightmare want with us?
Swamp Gas: (Thoughtfully.) I think she came to warn us.
Squirrel: Who?
Swamp Gas: The girl we just saw.
Squirrel: (Sarcastically.) She's just a little bit late.
Swamp Gas: She had a stormy ocean to cross in the night.
M: Who is she?
Swamp Gas: (Ignores him.) We must go. Others like those will follow.
(Squirrel put his pen back in its scabbard.)
M: (As they begin walking.) I used Parker pens when I was in school. They used to be excellent.
Squirrel: Mine is one of the old ones. When it finally wore out, I had it refurbished. The new ones are cheap.
M: The pens I had were made in England.
Swamp Gas: Do men ever talk about important things?
M: (A trifle offended.) I'm not sure what you mean. What could be more important than the pen you write with?
Squirrel: Or wound with? Sadly, I think Gillette bought them out . . .
Squirrel: I hear a beeping sound.M: What direction?
(Squirrel points. When they've walked a few yards, a wall becomes visible, and a metal door with a small window.)
Squirrel: What light from yonder door breaks?
M: Let's find out. (Goes to the door and pushes it open.)
(The room is dimly lit. In the center, a surgical lamp hangs over an operating table. A vital signs monitor stands in the corner.)
M: It's a surgery room.
Swamp Gas: I have an uneasy feeling about this.
(Squirrel pulls his laser pen from its scabbard.) It may be a set-up. This is the sort of place I'd expect to find Nightmare or Frank Putnam.
M: (Walks in.) There's no one in here, but there's blood on the floor. (He walks over to the operating table.) It looks like the kind of room you'd expect to find in a----.
Swamp Gas: Something horrible happened in this room.
M: What?
Squirrel: (Standing beside the door, scanning the darkness for signs of anyone approaching.) I don't like this.
Swamp Gas: People have been here recently.
M: (Looks at Swamp Gas, who has entered the room and hovers near the ceiling.) Who?
Swamp Gas: Al and Richie and Todd.
Squirrel: (Nervously.) Those guys Al hangs around with are a rough lot, and they can pop in out of nowhere at any time.
Swamp Gas: She's asleep.
M: Who?
Swamp Gas: Alex.
Squirrel: How can you tell?
Swamp Gas: She created this world. When she's asleep and dreaming, it melts and changes form, as in dreams. We need to get out of here, back into the dark, where it's safer.
(M turns to go, but as he does, the room seems to dissolve. M and Squirrel find themselves on a rocky, windswept beach. A full moon hangs in a late-evening sky.)
M: How did we get----?
Squirrel: Where's Penelope?
(A girl emerges from brush in the dunes, pulling twigs out of her curly, blonde hair. Seeing them, she stumbles toward them uncertainly, then falls. M rushes over to her and helps her to her feet.)
Penelope: I think I've got sea legs!
M: Who are you?
Penelope: Who do you think I am? (She looks at him with twinkling blue eyes.) I got blown by the wind into that brush over there. The next thing I knew, I was like this again. (She looks down at herself meditatively.) I think it's a self-defense mechanism we will-o'-the wisps have.
Squirrel: Get a load of those clothes!
Penelope: (Scowls.) I'll have you know that these were all the rage in the teens. This is a very expensive sweater!
M: You're Penelope?
Penelope: The very one.
M: (Attempting to collect his thoughts.) Where are we? (Looks at her curiously.) Are you picking up any sort of vibes?
(Penelope shakes her head.)
Squirrel: Maybe she's not as sensitive when she's in human form.
Penelope: How did I seem before?
M: (Sarcastically.) You were a real gas!
(Squirrel starts laughing.)
M: A laughing squirrel. Nobody would believe it.
(Squirrel rolls on the beach, laughing.)
Penelope: (Smiles, then gazes out at the waves.) What a beautiful place. I wonder where we are.
M: (Shrugs.) Somewhere in Al's mind, I guess. Some place she's been.
Squirrel: (Brushing the sand off his fur, now serious.) We'd better not stay around here very long. (He glances up and down the beach.) They'll be after us.
M: What will they do with us?
Squirrel: (Arches an eyebrow.) We don't want to find out.
Penelope: There's a path back that way. I saw it among the dunes.
(Following the path through the dunes, M, Squirrel, and Penelope come to a pleasant, dewy meadow. Here and there are ancient oaks with huge limbs.)Squirrel: (Riding on M's shoulder.) There's an apple orchard around here somewhere.
M: Hmm? Maybe there are apples. Right now, I'd eat them green.
Squirrel: I've heard there's a monster who live there, a balalaika or something like that. We probably don't want to make his acquaintance.
Penelope: My boots are soaked from the dew.
M: So are my Topsiders.
Penelope: I'm feeling very sleepy.
Squirrel: (Looking disturbed, realization dawning on him.) This is a field of enchantment. We must get out of it, fast!
(They look behind them. It seems a long way back. The moon hangs in the sky, unmoving. Although they have walked for quite a while, the sun has never set.)
M: I think you're right, Squirrel. I feel as though I've been drugged.
Penelope: I can't seem to keep my eyes open. (She trips and falls.)
(Squirrel hangs on as M stoops to pick up Penelope, whom he carries to the base of a mossy oak.)
Squirrel: (Climbing down as M kneels and leans Penelope against the tree.) You know, they're going to catch up with us somewhere. It's just a matter of where.
M: That's occurred to me, too. (He sits down beside Penelope. Taking a wary look around, he leans back against the tree.)
Squirrel: The question is what we're going to do when that happens.
M: Tell me more about Nightmare and this mad doctor, Frank Putnam.
Squirrel: (His head in his paws.) Putnam's a psychopath, no conscience. Al can't stay away from him. He's like a flame and she's like a moth.
Penelope: (Talking in her sleep.) He has her . . . has her strapped to a table . . .
Squirrel: (Suddenly attentive.) He has Al!
M: (Turns to Penelope.) Who has her?
Penelope: The evil doctor. He's drugged her . . .
Squirrel: That explains why we can't stay awake.
(M looks at Squirrel quizzically.)
Squirrel: We're in Al's mind, figments of her imagination, so the sedation is working on us as well. (Shakes his head.) Whatever it was he put in her.
M: Surely there's a way to fight it (Yawns, eyes closing.)
Squirrel: If Al can't stop him from hurting her, we can't stop what he'll do to us.
M: I feel as though I could sleep for a week.
Squirrel: This is how they'll get us. (Lies down groggily.) This is how they'll get us . . .
Penelope: I'm cold.
M: How can you be cold? You're wearing a motoring coat. (He pulls her to him and holds her, pulling the coat over himself as well. From the distance, beyond the misty meadow, can be heard the low sound of the surf.)
Squirrel: (Mumbles.) I have a very bad feeling about all of this.
(When the three awake, they're no longer under an oak but on the floor of a surgery room. A man in a blood-spattered lab coat stands before them, a wicked smile on his face . . .)
(For no apparent reason, Putnam suddenly falls to the floor in a heap.)Squirrel: (Stares.) That was convenient.
Penelope: I didn't want to do it, but it seemed the simplest thing.
M: What did you do to him?
Penelope: Nothing serious. I made all the neurons in his brain fire in a haphazard fashion.
Squirrel: What does that mean?
Penelope: Essentially, I subjected him to about a dozen seizures in two seconds. When he wakes up, he'll have a whopping headache, possibly some memory loss. (The ropes come loose from her hands.) Thank you, Squirrel!
Squirrel: My pleasure, Ma'am.
M: (Incredulously.) You can control the firing of people's neurons?
Penelope: (Looks at him knowingly, untying his hands.) When you get to be as old as I am, you have a trick or two up your sleeve.
Squirrel: (With a new respect.) That's incredible! Could you have stopped his heart instead?
Penelope: (Nods.) But they don't wake up after that, and there's a girl strapped to the table over there, who's insanely in love with him. (She unties the cords around her boots, glancing sympathetically at the operating table.)
Squirrel: I'm free. (He dances around, testing his limbs.) He's not good at tying up squirrels.
(As M works at the knotted lines wrapped around his ankles, Penelope goes to the operating table and unties Al.)
Al: You're . . .
Penelope: (Shakes her head.) You're better off not knowing me or any of us. We'll be out of here shortly.
Al: (Bleary-eyed.) You have an American accent.
Penelope: (Smiles.) Most people from Indiana do.
M: (Getting free and standing up.) What next?
Squirrel: (Points at Putnam.) He's one of the bad ones. He'll be after us.
Penelope: He's got what he wants, right here. (Gives Al's wrist an affectionate squeeze.)
Squirrel: He's going to lobotomize her! We can't leave her here.
M: (Nervous.) Unless Penelope has a spell to take us somewhere else, we'd better get moving. (Indicates Putnam.) This character may have friends.
(Squirrel spots something lying on the floor by operating table. He ambles over and picks it up.)
Penelope: (Watching with interest.) It's eye liner. What are you going to do with that?
Squirrel: (Goes over to Putnam, then looks back at Penelope.) How long will he be out?
Penelope: Oh, several hours, I'd guess.
Squirrel: Hmmm. (He draws an X on Putnam's lab coat, then writes: Squirrel was here. He snickers.)
Penelope: (Gets a damp cloth from the counter.) Squirrel, let me have that.
(Squirrel hands her the pencil. On the floor, Penelope writes ALT+Backspace.)
M: She remembers a spell, after all.
Penelope: No, I'm making this up as I go. (She motions.) Form a circle around this.
(They do as she directs.)
Penelope: Hocus pocus, out of focus, send us to our former locus! (With a swift swipe of the cloth, she blurs the writing. The room blurs, and they find themselves again lying under the oak.)
M: Well, I'll be d----d.
Penelope: (Smirks.) I have no doubt of that!
M: (Looks at her incredulously.) How did someone from silent film days come to be computer literate?
Penelope: (Laughs.) I'm not. That's why I know the ALT+Backspace command.
Squirrel: What next?
Penelope: (Looking around.) Let's see if I can do it again. I can scratch the magic words in the sand and let the waves wash them away. That should get us back to the place where we started.
(The four get to their feet and head back across the misty meadow.)
Squirrel: (Riding on M's shoulder.) I don't think people in this weird realm ever eat.
M: (Shakes his head.) I haven't seen a single Jason's Deli.
Squirrel: Or Domino's Pizza.
M: Or Taco Bell.
Squirrel: Or Outback Steak House . . .
Penelope: (Walking through the dewy grass.) I'm not looking forward to going back to the swamp.M: What's it like?
Penelope: (Sighs) Nothing to do but watch cypress trees grow and logs slowly rot and alligators eat ducks and turtles and fish and anything else they can sneak up on.
Squirrel: What were you in your last life?
Penelope: I was an actress. (She smiles.) Penelope Parsons. Those were fun days!
M. When did you die?
Penelope: In 1916. It was in September. We were in New Jersey, filming on that trestle where some of the famous Perils of Pauline scenes were filmed.
Squirrel: Were you tied to the track?
Penelope: (Nods.) They were behind schedule shooting and had forgotten about the mail train. I'm sure several of the studio crew were badly injured when it roared through.
(M looks at her sympathetically.)
Squirrel: What a horrible experience that must have been!
Penelope: (Shakes her head.) I didn't know what had happened until it was over.
M: How did you know?
Penelope: Well, I was apart from it and looking down on things--you know, the way you do when you die. The wheels cut my head right off, just like a guillotine.
(For a few moments, no one speaks.)
Squirrel: You saw that?
Penelope: I saw my head roll off the tracks and fall over the side of the trestle.
M: How did you feel about that?
Squirrel: (Glares at him.) What is this, Saturday Night Live?
Penelope: (Shrugs.) I was a little irritated. I had just had my hair curled.
(M and Squirrel look at her with horror.)
Penelope: And I wasn't ready to die yet. I was only nineteen.
Squirrel: Nineteen and beautiful. (Staring.)
Penelope, (Divining their thoughts, with her finger she traces an imaginary line across her collarbone.) Right there. That was where it chopped it.
M: (Averts his eyes.) Now you can enjoy the hairstyle forever.
(The roar of the surf grows louder as they approach the dunes.)
Squirrel: Assuming the spell works, what will we do if we manage to get back to that dark emptiness where we started?
Penelope: (Unenthusiastically.) Try the spell again, I suppose.
M: (Stopping.) I didn't notice that before.
Squirrel: (Raising his paw as a visor.) I didn't, either, but I have a better view from up here.
(A few hundred yards away through brush growing atop the dunes, a weathered roof with a cupola and weathervane on top is visible in the late evening.)
Penelope: We can probably reach it more easily from the beach.
M: (Wearily.) I hear the mermaids singing, each to each.
Squirrel: I do not think they will sing for me.
(The breeze that strikes them as they emerge from the dunes is refreshing, cool but not cold.)
Penelope: My poor feet are ready to be out of these boots and on some sand. (Removing her motoring coat, she sits down and unlaces her boots.)
M: (To Squirrel.) You ready to get down?
Squirrel: Yeah. I need to go drain the tanks.
(M kneels. Squirrel leaps to the sand. M takes off his deck shoes. Squirrel heads for a dune.)
M: Why so modest, Squirrel? Can't squirrels relieve themselves wherever they want?
Squirrel: (Shouts back.) They can if they're not General Patton!
M: (Holds Penelope's boots while she tries to pull her feet out of them.) How do you stand to wear these things?
Penelope: (Grunts.) You should try wearing them for all eternity.
(M and Penelope walk slowly across the sand and shingle down to the water.)
M: (Looking at the full moon that hangs in the pale blue sky above the sunset.) I wonder why time is stuck here.
Penelope: It's a prop, never meant to be a developed scene. (Pointing into the waves.) Look!
M: What? (Then he sees it.)
Penelope: She seems to be waiting for us.
M: (Rolling up his khakis.) Do you suppose it's dangerous to wade out there?
Penelope: (Shrugs.) I don't know. I've never been here.
M: (Wading in beside Penelope.) What is some woman doing out there playing in the breakers, in such an unearthly place as this?
Penelope: (Hitching up her skirt.) This is as far in as I go.
(The swimmer approaches. She has long, reddish-brown hair and looks to be in her twenties.)
M: She looks familiar.
Penelope: (With a wry expresssion.) I imagine all women look familiar to you.
M: She reminds me of the water nymphs in Waterhouse's painting of Hylas. You know, that scene from Jason and the Argonauts . . .
Penelope: (Backing up.) She's not human.
M: Hmm?
Penelope: She can't stand up. Look at her tail.
(The girl watches them from the waves, her eyes the color of her hair.)
M: (Shouting.) Who are you?
(The creature comes closer.)
Penelope: I think she's shy.
(Skampering across the sand, Squirrel watches from the shore.)
M: What is she?
Penelope: A mermaid.
M: (Glances at Penelope in disbelief.) There's no such thing as a mermaid.
Squirrel: (Shouting.) Maybe in your world.
(The mermaid disappears, then, startling them, surfaces closer to them.)
Mermaid: (Pulling her hair out of her eyes, studies them.) I knew you would come back this way.
M: Who are you?
Mermaid: (Hesitantly.) My name is Orchil. I've come to warn you.
Penelope: Warn us about what?
Mermaid: Al has joined a band of pirates.
M: (Confused.) Al?
Penelope: (Disappointed.) I wouldn't have thought it of her.
Mermaid: (Looks at M bashfully.) I just love it when a man quotes T. S. Eliot.
Squirrel: (Shouts.) Hey! What about me? I got a line in!
M: That's Squirrel.
Mermaid: (Laughs.) You're funny.
M: He used to be a famous American Army general.
(Mermaid looks M in the eyes.)
M: (Gestures toward the shore.) Really! Just ask him.
Mermaid: It's so nice out here in the waves, isn't it? (She runs her hand over the surface of the water.)
Penelope: (Showing concern.) We have a building to investigate.
M: (Explains.) We saw the roof of something when we were coming through the dunes.
Mermaid: (Sadly.) That's the old fisherman's cottage. (She lowers her eyes.) He's gone now.
Penelope: What happened to him.
Mermaid: Bad people came, in black robes. They said they were looking for intruders.
M: They talked to you?
Mermaid: (Crosses her arms protectively over her chest, eyes wide.) No! (She shakes her head.) I merely overheard them.
Penelope: What happened to the fisherman?
Mermaid: They dragged him away. (Tears run down her cheeks.) I heard soon afterward that they had killed him--delivered him to the horrible thing that lives in the apple orchard.
Penelope: (Looks at M.) He won't mind, then, if we make use of his cottage, to rest, at least for a couple of nights, while we figure out what to do. (She turns to go back to the beach.)
Mermaid: Don't sleep too soundly!
Penelope: (Glances back.) I won't. Thank you, Orchil.
Mermaid: (Looks at M, eyes reddened.) She has been a diver in deep seas, and she keeps their fallen day about her.
M: (Nods.) I know.
(Her powerful tail pushing the water beneath her, the mermaid, seemingly reluctantly, glides slowly outward through the surf. M raises his hand and waves, and she waves back, strands of her hair blown by the wind. Then she's gone. M makes his way back to the shore.)
Squirrel: (Tossing pebbles into the water.) They came here for him. They'll come here for us.
M: (Looks out at the waves.) When they do, I'll burn every one of them alive.
I like the way you do the dialog for Mossers! He sounds like my kind of pirate, especially the bit about the rum.
Wow! Three episodes in one day! I'll get started on the next one tomorrow morning.I had a feeling the ballintoick wouldn't kill Erica, at least not in a minor adventure. She appears to be one of the regular characters.
(M gets up and wearily follows Penelope's tracks through the sand. Penelope turns and waits for him. Squirrel, looking warily out at the surf, flings another pebble into the waves, then sprints after them.)Penelope: (Smiling.) I believe she likes you.
M: (Snorting.) I'm someone she can play with. (Feeling Penelope's scrutiny.) I prefer women who have legs and feet, thank you.
Penelope: (Sympathetically.) It must get lonely out here . . . (Scanning the ocean horizon.) We may need to find cover.
(M and Squirrel turn. They can see sails, mauve in the distance.)
Squirrel: That's funny. I didn't see that a few minutes ago.
M: Me, either.
Squirrel: It's probably no use hiding. I'm sure they know we're here.
M: How do you figure that?
Squirrel: Because Al knows. She has a sort of oceanic awareness of everything that goes on in this realm. I'm sure she's found out about the old fisherman.
M: (Sadly.) Yeah. The mermaid seemed really torn up about it. (Looks at Squirrel.) What killed him?
Squirrel: In some story of hers, she created the thing that lives in the apple orchard. No one knows, exactly, what it is.
Penelope: I think she intended the ballintoick as a device to scare children, not as the monster that would devour the old fisherman.
Squirrel: I'm not sure she's as sweet as you give her credit for. Don't forget she has a thing for evil doctors.
M: And now she's in league with pirates.
Squirrel: And she plans to dress up as Bellatrix Lestrange for Halloween.
(M and Penelope stop walking and stare at Squirrel.)
Penelope: How do you know that?
Squirrel: (Bashfully.) I read National Inquirer.
(They continue walking, M shaking his head.)
M: A fox squirrel that reads tabloids.
Squirrel: What do they read in your world?
M: In my world, squirrels don't read anything. They haven't even figured out what car horns mean.
(The roof with the weathervane can be seen, though the building is hidden by dunes and brush.)
Penelope: This beach scene isn't a set she took time to develop, so they may not bother with us. I have a feeling they have other, more urgent business to attend to, which may work in our favor.
Squirrel: I wonder if she'll wear black fishnet hose?
Penelope: (Looks disapprovingly at Squirrel.)
M: I imagine her mother would have something to say about that!
Squirrel: (Shrugs.) Inquiring minds want to know!
Penelope: Ever heard of Eve Madora?
Squirrel: Yeah. She murdered Hadley in that old mansion and boarded up his room, didn't she? Is something up with that?
Penelope: I was hoping maybe you could tell me.
Squirrel: (Smirking.) Is that tuner of yours picking up side-band information again?
Penelope: (Smiles.) I guess you could say that. My reception's not as good when I'm in human form.
(Coming to an opening in the dunes, they see, nestled at the foot of a hillside, a rustic cabin with a stone chimney.)
(M goes up the two wooden steps. The plain, batten door is a weathered gray, with iron studs, and has a wrought-iron thumb latch. Prepared to jump back if a dog leaps at him, M opens the door.)Penelope: (Looking in the window.) I don't see anyone in there.
(M walks in cautiously. To the left is a fireplace. Over the huge, bracketed mantel hangs a painting of a clipper ship. The fireplace is flanked by ornate bookcases. Along the back wall is an overstuffed settee, in front of which a map chest is positioned as if for use as a coffeetable. A pot-bellied stove, a huge cutting block, and cabinets take up the right-hand wall. To the left of the door, underneath the window Penelope is peering in through, is a drop-leaf desk. The window is large, with wavy panes of antique glass, and with shutters that are folded away to each side.)
M: (Returns to the door.) It doesn't look as though anyone is here.
(Penelope goes up the steps, followed by Squirrel.)
Penelope: (Looking around.) It isn't at all what I expected. (She looks up. Among the exposed trusses are fishing rods of various lengths, some made of bamboo. On the floor beside the settee is large fishing float made of blue glass and tied up with hemp.)
Squirrel: (Pulling his pen out of the scabbard.) Something's in here.
M: (Backing toward the door.) Where?
Squirrel: Behind a box that's under the sofa.
Penelope: (Looking at M.) And where do you think you're going?
M: I thought I'd better go check the progress of that ship that seems to be coming this way.
Penelope: Pull the sofa out from the wall.
M: I think it looks nice where it is.
Penelope: (Reassuringly.) I'll do the nerve trick on whatever comes out.
(M goes over to the settee. He looks at Penelope.)
M: Maybe we should just leave and come back later.
Squirrel: (Flaps his free arm like a chicken.) Brrrraakk! Bk bk bk bk!
(Penelope goes to the door and closes it.)
Squirrel: (Turning.) Whoa! Why did you do that?
Penelope: Whatever it is might know something about what happened here. (Nods to M.)
(M begins pulling the settee out from the wall. Snarling and spitting, a black cat dashes across to the fireplace, and in a motion almost too fast to see, jumps to a chair, to the mantel, then to the top of the bookcase on the left side of the fireplace. M stumbles backwards against the map chest and falls.)
Squirrel: (Quivering, waving his pen.) It's a friggin' cat! Why couldn't it have been a troll or a, a dragon?
(From its high perch atop the bookcase, swishing its tail, the cat regards them with ferocious, pale golden eyes.)
Penelope: We haven't come to harm you. Orchil told us what happened to the old fisherman.
(M gets up off the rug.)
Squirrel: (Backing toward the other end of the room, his pen held out in front of him.) A friggin' cat!
(M stares at Squirrel, then looks up at the cat.)
Penelope: We're not sure how we got here. (She pauses, looking for a way to explain.) We aren't Alex's characters.
Squirrel: Why are you talking to that cat? (His voice skids.) Cats know nothing but eating mice and squirrels. (Bumping into the cast-iron stove, he jumps and squeaks.) Aahhh!
M: (Shakes his head.) Mr. Cat, I introduce you to General Patton, who saved the Allies at the Battle of the Bulge.
Squirrel: (Waving his pen.) Open the door and let the cat out.
Penelope: (Sighs.) All right. (Opens the door. The cat doesn't move.)
Penelope: (To the others.) This might be a nice place to rest, but I'm getting an uneasy feeling about it. There's a connection between the cat and the old fisherman, and the cat clearly doesn't want us here.
M: That's enough for me. Are we off to slay the Jabbertoick? Or are we going back to the dark place?
Penelope: I'm sure the alligators miss me, but I must admit, I've been enjoying the company. And I like having a body again. (She turns to go outside.)
Squirrel: Wait! Where are you going? (He hops up and down, flicking his tail.)
(M watches Squirrel, puzzled. Squirrel glances nervously up at the glowering cat, points his pen threatingly, then makes a mad dash for the door. M keeps an eye on the cat in case it has the taste of squirrel on its mind for dinner. M shakes his head as Squirrel bounds down the steps.)
M: (Shouting after him.) The troops await your orders to charge, sir!
(As M turns to go out, the cat leaps lightly to the mantel, then to the chair, and to the floor. M finds himself looking at a slim girl who has long, black hair.)
M: (At first too astonished to say anything.) Who are you?
Girl: (Obviously afraid to trust him, but even more afraid not to.) I'm the fisherman's daughter.
(She looks to be no more than fifteen and is wearing faded blue jeans, a sweatshirt, and moccasins. She studies M with intelligent, green eyes.)M: Did you see what happened to your father?
Girl: (Nods. She looks away.)
M: What's your name?
Girl: Tavy. (She glances across at a ship's clock that hangs on the wall, between the window and the door. The clock is round and has roman numerals and shows the time to be a quarter past five.) I was outside when they came. (She speaks hesitantly.) I, uhm, (she pulls stands of hair out of her eyes) I was gathering firewood up the beach a ways.
M: What direction did they come from?
Tavy: (Shakes her head slowly.) I don't know. I heard Orchil calling my name, and I looked out and saw her pointing frantically in the direction of the house. Then I heard shouting and ran. They had dragged my father out of the house. (Her eyes well with tears.) They had beaten him pretty badly.
M: What happened then.
Tavy: One of them saw me and came after me, so I ran into the dunes and transformed into a cat so I could hide.
M: Did you see where they took him?
Tavy: Yes. I followed them. They shoved him, dragged him, kicked him. (Her eyes flash with anger.) They went across the meadows to the orchard, and took him in there.
M: (Glancing outside.) Did you follow them in?
Tavy: Yes. (She folds her arms.) I was terrified, but even more afraid for my father.
M: (Worry clouding his features.) Something's up. Penelope and Squirrel are coming, and it looks like they're in a fat hurry.
Tavy: (Regarding M curiously.) Who are you?
M: (With a resigned tone.) I'm a character is a dungeon story.
Tavy: How did you get here?
M: (Shrugs.) I guess the story never got published but was filed away somewhere and started to leak. Penelope says they do that sometimes when they get old.
Tavy: (Smiles.) I'm glad.
(M goes out the door and down the steps. Tavy remains where she is, then changes her mind and follows him.)
Penelope: (Walking through the sand, stops and stares.) Who's that?
M: (Looks behind him.) Uhm, she's the cat.
Penelope: (Doing a doubletake.)
M: I'm not sure what makes me ask this, but, is there something on your mind?
Penelope: (Scowls.) The ship has anchored and people are rowing ashore.
M: What?
Squirrel: (Darting up, out of breath.) They're ashore.
M: (Shakes his head.) There's no way a ship could sail from there to here in that amount of time, not even in a gale.
Squirrel: Maybe in your world. (Notices Tavy.) Who's she?
M: (Sighs.) She's the fisherman's daughter.
Squirrel: (Looking Tavy over suspiciously.) Is that your cat in the cottage?
Penelope: Tavy is the cat.
(Squirrel looks at Penelope blankly.)
M: What's the matter, Squirrel. (Smirks.) Cat got your tongue?
Squirrel: (Furiously.) I know a cat when I see one!
M: Maybe in your world.
Squirrel: (Paws on hips.) I'll remind you that we are in my world, and I think I know a certain dark-haired, mysterious-eyed Mistress-of-the-Realm when I see her in a rowboat, even at a distance.
Penelope: (Gasps.) Al?
Squirrel: (Nods darkly.)
M: Who was with her?
Squirrel: Several others, and I think that rum-swilling, me-hearty pirate.
Penelope: (Pensively.) I wonder why they're here, where they could be going.
Squirrel: (Pointing.) They put ashore about a thousand yards that way.
(For a few moments they stand in silence save for the crash of the surf beyond the dunes and the sound of sea birds wheeling in the wind. Following Squirrel, Penelope and M head for the beach, Tavy hesitantly bringing up the rear.)
Penelope: (Glancing up the beach and taking a step backward.) We've got company.(They retreat to the shelter of the dunes. Squirrel scampers to the top of one, where he hides in grass. He takes his pen from its scabbard, clicks it three times, and it turns into a small telescope. Tavy climbs another dune and peers over.)
M: How did they get back to the beach all of a sudden?
Penelope: (Shrugs.) Probably the same way they managed to cover several miles out at sea in a few minutes.
Squirrel: It's Mossers the pirate, Todd Buxton (adjusts his telescope), the guy from the island, and I think that's his wife Ethel, and Al. (Contemplatively.) From a distance, she looks like an ordinary girl. You'd never guess she masterminded all this.
Penelope: She's pretty bright. (Sighs.) And she's got only two months left to finish her 350,000 word novel--that is, if she's going to do it this year.
Squirrel: She's writing a novel?
Penelope: (Nods.) Hence her companions. (Looks incredulously at M and Squirrel.) Don't you keep up with current events?
M: There's not much news in Vampirella comic books.
Squirrel: I didn't think much of that last issue, did you? I miss the days when Pepe Gonzalez was drawing for it.
Penelope: (Astounded.) It seems to me that we have more important things to worry about right now that who's drawing a vampire in a swimsuit!
Squirrel: (Peering through the telescope.) I wonder why Al hangs out with those disreputable people?
M: If anyone would know, you would. Aren't you one of Nightmare's henchsquirrels?
Squirrel: (Scowls.) Why did you have to bring that up?
Tavy: (Looking back at M and Penelope.) I think I know a way to distract them.
Penelope: How?
Tavy: In those woods behind them there's a brown bear sniffing among the leaves. She's looking for berries. The bears around here are very tame, but maybe the people on the beach don't know that.
M: Whatever your idea is, I'm all for it.
(As they watch from their hiding places among the dunes, they see one the figures point in their direction. A few moments later, a bear charges out of the trees toward the group standing around the rowboat.)
Mosser: Avast! (He stumbles backward and falls into the rowboat, his legs flailing.)
(Charlie and Erica stand wide-eyed for a moment, their mouths open. Then they scramble to push the boat out into the water.)
Al: Wha-- Where did that come from?
Tavy: (Watching Al.) I like her.(Answers Squirrel's questioning look with a smile.) She wears the same kind of jeans I do.
Al: I didn't write a bear into this story!
Buxton: Don't worry, dear. I'll protect you! (Drawing his sword, he runs to intercept the bear, but the bear blithely goes around him.)
Penelope: Maybe we should do something. What if the bear gets one of them?
Tavy: (Giggling.) She might lick them to death. That's Ursula.
M: The bear has a name?
Tavy: Uhm hmm. I named her when she was a cub. It's Latin, means little she-bear.
Penelope: The bear is a pet?
M: (Looking at Tavy in surprise.) I hope they don't figure that out.
(Mosser gets to a seat and grabs the oars, and the blades kick up water from the crests of the waves. Charlie and Erica have waded in waist-deep. Charlie lifts Erica, who climbs into the boat. Moving erratically, the bear heads toward Alex. Screaming, Al runs out into the surf. On top of his dune, Squirrel has put down his telescope and is rolling on the sand, laughing hysterically. Glancing up at Squirrel, M starts laughing.)
M: He cracks me up.
(Charlie climbs into the boat. The bear stops at the edge of the water, sniffing around. Al swims over to the boat and they help her in. On the beach, Buxton approaches the bear warily.)
Penelope: Uh, oh, This isn't good. Buxton's a smart one, he is. (Turning.) Tavy, do something.
(Tavy concentrates.) I'll try.
(The bear, which has absent-mindedly turned to face Buxton, apparently docile, unexpectedly rears on its hind legs and roars, waving its paws menacingly. His jaw dropping, Buxton takes a staggering step backward, drops his sword, then, like a character in a speeded up film, takes off down the beach. Having regained his composure, Squirrel watches through the tiny telescope.)
Squirrel: Would you look at that! (Squirrel laughter can be heard among the dunes as he once again drops his telescope and starts rolling.)
Penelope: Buxton's headed right for us. (Glances at M.) What should we do?
Buxton: (Clearly oblivious of everything but the bear, starts yelling.) Aaaahhh! (He makes a sudden turn and dashes into the surf, waving his arms at the rowboat.) Hey! Wait for me!
(The bear lopes along, following Buxton's shoeprints, then continues over to the dunes.)
Squirrel: (Alarmed.) I don't know whether anyone has noticed, but that bear's headed this way.
(Tavy climbs down from her dune and in a soft voice calls the bear.)
Squirrel: What are you doing?
Tavy: She just wants some berries. I have a bucketful waiting for her at the cottage. (The bear trots up.) Hi, Ursula. (She pets the bear and leads it away through the dunes.)
Squirrel: (Wiping sweat off his brow.) I don't know what to make of that.
(They look out at the ocean, where Charlie and Erica are pulling Buxton into the rowboat. They can hear Buxton's cursing wafted ashore by the breeze, and Erica's shrill voice.)
Erica: Did that bad old bear almost get our Buxy-wuxy?
Penelope: I guess this adventure was almost more than they could bear. (She smiles.)
(There is infectious squirrel laughter as Squirrel drops his telescope and starts rolling.)
Penelope: Have you ever known another squirrel quite like this one?
M: (Shakes his head.) Not in this world or any other.
I had intended to add to this today, but got distracted by other things. When I read Charlie's remark, "That was some paper," I wondered what kind of paper you'd had to write. I used to hate writing papers. I usually put them off as long as possible.
Penelope: (Watching the rowboat head for the ship.) I think we'd better leave Squirrel here to keep an eye on them.Squirrel: Fine by me. (He glances back toward the cottage.) I don't want to wind up as an hors d'oeuvre for that bear.
M: What do make of Tavy?
Penelope: I think she has powers she may be unaware of. (For a moment she is lost in thought.) She knew the bear was in the woods. She apparently put thoughts or urges in the mind of the bear.
Squirrel: (With a slow smile.) Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
M: Squirrels don't smile.
Squirrel: Maybe in your world.
Penelope: (Looking at Squirrel curiously.) What?
Squirrel: If she can do it to the bear, why not to Mossers or Buxton or Al?
M: Maybe she could get Mossers to walk in his sleep and pull up the anchor. When they woke up, they'd find the ship washed ashore.
Squirrel: Imagine the possibilities if she could control Al!
M: Yeah. I'm ready for a five-star hotel that has a swimming pool with a fountain and a bridge and a hut that serves drinks!
Squirrel: We're on a mission. (A faraway look come into his eyes.) I haven't tasted a martini in many a moon.
Penelope: (Shakes her head.) Forget it. We're a subset of Al. She isn't really a character in the way we are. This is the inside of her mind.
M: What you're saying is that we're lucky she hasn't fed us to whatever lives in the apple orchard.
Penelope: (Raising her eyebrows.) It may be something to take into consideration.
Squirrel: You think that if she wanted us dead, she'd have killed us already, huh?
M: Or at least sent us back to whatever stories we came from?
Penelope: (Sighs.) Perhaps.
Squirrel: What story were you in, Penelope?
Penelope: (Makes a face.) It's a children's book about a will-o'-the-wisp that befriends a couple of kids who are lost in a swamp and helps them find their way home.
M: Is it a good story?
Penelope: If you have the IQ of a lollipop. (Shakes her head.) It won a Newbery Medal and a Caldecott Medal, if that tells you anything.
Squirrel: What's that?
Penelope: They're awards for the most insipid writing and illustration.
Squirrel: I take it you weren't happy to star in that one.
Penelope: (With an expression of distaste.) I have a short fuse when it comes to the stupidly sentimental. Stories like that make me want to puke--and I'm used to the society of snapping turtles and alligators.
M: It was nice of you to help them out of the swamp.
Penelope: Believe me, I was given no choice in the matter.
Squirrel: (Laughing.) Were you on the side of the alligators?
Penelope: I was, indeed. I wanted to feed the author to them. (Looks at Squirrel.) You don't mind keeping watch?
Squirrel: (Salutes.) At your service!
Penelope: (To M.) Why don't we go see what we can find out from Tavy.
(M and Penelope walk through the dunes toward the cottage as Squirrel watches the progress of Al and her companions. Through his little telescope he sees them pull up alongside the ship and climb a rope ladder. Mossers and Charlie push out the davits and hoist the rowboat on deck.)
M: Aren't you tired?
Penelope: Not really. (Smiles.) I got a lot of sleep in the swamp. Are you?
M: Very.
Penelope: Maybe Tavy won't mind if you get a few hours' shut-eye on the sofa.
(Stopping, M picks up a small object that's half buried in the sand.)
Penelope: What did you find?
M: (Turning it over in his hand.) I have no idea. (Hands it to Penelope.)
Penelope: (Examining it.) It's a magical implement of some kind, or part of one.
M: I'll bet someone dropped it.
Penelope: (Nods.) Possibly in a struggle.
M: Maybe someone wearing black robes and a hood.
(M and Penelope exchange a meaningful glance. At the cottage, they find Tavy sitting on the steps, petting Ursula, who is eating contentedly out of a wooden bucket. Seeing them, Tavy smiles.)
M: Tavy, would you mind very much if I lie down on the couch and get some sleep?
Tavy: (In a quiet voice.) Make yourself at home.
(M goes up the steps into the cottage. Penelope sits down beside Tavy.)
Penelope: They've gone back to the ship. (She looks at Tavy.) But you know that, don't you?
Tavy: (Hesitantly.) Well, I assumed . . .
Penelope: How did you know there was a bear in the woods?
Tavy: (Stroking Ursula.) That's where she lives.
(There is a silence, in which Penelope studies Tavy.)
Tavy: Sometimes she wants fish and goes out into the surf. (She laughs softly.) Ursula's funny to watch when she's out in the waves.
(Finishing the berries, the bear tips the bucket over, then licks Tavy's hand, then turns and shambles off through the dunes.)
Tavy: Now she's going to the lagoon.
Penelope: The lagoon?
Tavy: (Points.) There's a creek, a place where, over the centuries, run-off from the rains has cut through the beach. It leads to a lagoon back in the trees.
Penelope: It rains here?
Tavy: (Hanging her head.) Father says--said--there have been rains.
Penelope: Then why is it like this? Why-- (She realizes that Tavy is crying.)
(Penelope puts her arms around Tavy, who hides her face in the motoring coat. Her eyes following the tracks of the bear, Penelope thinks of the object M had found in the sand. In the cottage, M drifts off to sleep. Atop his dune, Squirrel watches the ship. A lamp has been lit in the cabin. There's no sign of activity on deck.)
Squirrel: (Muttering to himself, his stomach growling.) I'll bet they ordered out for pizza.
Colleen: (Desperately.) You know what's going to happen to us, don't you?M: We can carry some of the gold, but when we get above ground . . .
Colleen: (Shaking her head emphatically.) That isn't the life I want, Spades.
(Looking into his eyes, she puts her hand on his cheek. The lights flicker and dim, then come back on. Colleen shudders.) It's happening again.
(From outside come the sounds of a woman's screams. M leaps from the circular bed, pulls on clothes, and goes to the sliding doors. In the alleyway beyond the swimming pool can be seen a woman running in the night. Not far behind her, something slithers in the dark.)
Colleen: Spades! Don't go out there, please!
(The cave-cool air of the dungeon clears M's head as he opens the sliding door, climbs over the balcony railing, and drops to the pool deck. He runs to the barrier, where he sees the woman attempting unsuccessfully to scale a high, wrought-iron gate that blocks the alley. The eyes of the glistening eel monster glow red in the lights from the hotel. Whimpering, looking behind her, the woman screams again.)
M: Wheel of fire, turn, turn!
(In M's upturned palm, a ball of fire appears, bright and hot as a miniature sun. Distracted, the eel monster stops. Rotating its head toward M, flashing its razor-sharp teeth, it emits an ear-splitting roar. With a fast pitch, M sends the fireball flying like a meteor through the darkness, down the creature's throat. The reptile flips over backwards, shrieking in pain, showing its white belly. M hears a voice, yet no one is there. Mounting the barrier to jump over, he feels a hand grab him from behind.)
Penelope: M, wake up!
(The woman clinging to the gate watches in sheer terror as the big lizard writhes in its death agonies on the flagstone pavement. The scene behind the Hotel Cote d'Azure dissolves and M finds himself on the couch in the fisherman's cottage. An oil lamp has been lit. The windows are dark.)
M: Hmm? (Looks up bleary-eyed at Penelope, who is standing over him.) What's going on?
Penelope: (Glancing nervously toward the door.) A few minutes ago, Squirrel saw Todd Buxton jump over the side of the ship. Moments after that, the breeze died, fog rolled in, and it got dark. Squirrel's hiding out in the dunes, keeping watch.
M: (Dazed.) What about Tavy?
(Penelope glances at the bookcase to the left of the fireplace. Through the break in the cornice, behind the finial, can be seen a pair of golden eyes.)
Penelope: I think Buxton's been sent to spy on us, and there's no telling what he might do.
M: Do you think Al made it dark and foggy to keep us from seeing what they're up to?
Penelope: (Shaking her head.) No. (She shrugs.) That isn't the feeling I get. I think something else is going on. I just don't know what.
M: (Sitting up groggily.) What do we do now?
Penelope: (Taking off her motoring coat, she drapes in on a chair. Then she sits down beside M and crosses her legs.) Make ourselves comfortable. (She smiles.) Maybe we'll have a visitor who doesn't know I can read minds.
M: What about Al and the others?
Penelope: (Laughs under her breath.) Now that the wind has died, the mosquitos are out. Thanks to Tavy, they think dinner's waiting for them aboard the ship. I imagine Al and her crew have closed themselves up in a cabin to keep from being eaten alive by mosquitos. (She closes her eyes.) I'll have Tavy send a squadron after Buxton if he takes very long to pay us a social call.
M: What if it turns out that he's not feeling very sociable?
Penelope: If it comes to that, I'll do the nerve lock on him, like I did to Putnam. (She yawns.) I'd rather not, if I don't have to. If he doesn't go back to the ship, his friends will come looking for him, and we don't want that.
(Penelope leans her curly head on M's shoulder and soon is fast asleep. On the mantel, the oil lamp puts out a yellowish light. From atop the bookcase, the cat surveys the room.)
M: (Looking up at the cat.) I can't say just why, but I don't have a very good feeling about all of this.
I went back and corrected a couple of typos in mine. Refresh my memory. Who is Red?
Alex, I feel nervous about writing one of your characters, but here goes.(There's a knock at the door. M rouses Penelope from a long-needed sleep, then goes to the door. He opens it to find Todd Buxton standing there.)
Buxton: Well!
M: (Holding the door open.) Why don't you come in, Mr. Buxton. I'd offer you some dry clothes, but we're all out.
(Buxton steps warily through the door. Penelope regards him sleepy-eyed.
Buxton: (Making a short bow.) Madame. (He looks around curiously.)
M: (Closing the door to keep out the mosquitos.) Uhm, why don't you have a seat? (He drags a stool before the fireplace.)
(Buxton remains near the door, but when M resumes his seat next to Penelope, Todd sits down on the stool. He is obviously as tired as the others.)
Buxton: Who are you?
M: I'm Spades, a character from a dungeon story. This is Penelope, a character from a children's book.
Buxton: (Frowning.) You expect me to believe that?
(M and Penelope both shake their heads.)
Buxton: (Looking around apprehensively.) Where's the squirrel?
M: (Vaguely.) He's had a long day.
Penelope: Why are you here, Mr. Buxton?
Buxton: (Considering his reply carefully.) Ever heard of a sorcerer named Nightmare?
M: (Nods.) Only by reputation. Gratefully, we've never met him.
Buxton: So, you're not working for him?
Penelope: If we were, we certainly wouldn't tell you.
Buxton: (After a pause.) I happen to know that the squirrel works for him.
M: (Looks at Todd squarely.) That's a risk we're taking.
Buxton: Why?
M: Squirrel has helped pull us out of some scrapes.
Buxton: Maybe he's acting on Nightmare's orders.
Penelope: Maybe.
Buxton: Where's the girl?
M: Asleep. (With an expression of distaste.) Unlike everyone else in this beauteous realm, some of us have to sleep.
Buxton: (Looks at Penelope.) I heard what you did to Putnam.
Penelope: I could just as easily have killed him.
Buxton: Why didn't you?
Penelope: (Shrugs.) What purpose would it have served?
Buxton: True. Al would simply have brought him back to life. (Smirks.) Though I'm quite sure that's a debt of gratitude Frank wouldn't have relished owing.
Penelope: He plans to lobotomize her, you know.
(Buxton looks at the floor, obviously disconcerted.)
M: Why has the weather changed? Why has it gotten dark?
Buxton: (Shaking his head.) I don't know. (He looks at M and Penelope.) That's what I was hoping to find out from you.
Penelope: If Nightmare has come after us, what course of action do you recommend?
Buxton: (Gets up. Raises his eyebrows.) Run. (He goes to the door.)
M: Why doesn't Al deal with people like Nightmare and Putnam?
Buxton: (Laughs.) If I knew the answer to that, I'd be the author and not one of the characters. (He opens the door. Looking back at them, he pauses as though he wants to say something but isn't sure how to say it.) Nothing must happen to Al.
Penelope: (Smiling sympathetically.) She has been a diver in deep seas.
Buxton: (Sighs.) And keeps their fallen day about her. (Pausing but for a moment, he goes out into the night, closing the door behind him.)
Penelope: (Turning her blue eyes on M.) I was having such a pleasant dream.
M: Really? What?
Penelope: (Leaning her head on M's shoulder and closing her eyes.) Those kids who were lost in the swamp didn't want to be found. They had run away, trying to escape from the story they were in.
M: Do you think we're in a story like that?
Penelope: I don't know who the bad guys in this story are, but Buxton isn't one of them.
M: Which means that the crew on the ship aren't the bad guys, either.
Penelope: That's the way I see it.
M: Then where did the bad weather come from?
(Squirrel hears a muffled crunching of sand and rocks and a rustling of brush. He stands stock still, ready to use his pen, which he has converted to a flame thrower.)Red: Hello, Squirrelums.
Squirrel: (Feeling his scalp prickle, seeing no one in the pitch dark, but recognizing the voice.) I don't like being called Squirrelums.
Red: We have Al right in our hands. When she comes ashore, you know what to do.
Squirrel: I expect a promotion out of this. Sitting in a damp fog in the dark isn't my idea of how to spend an evening.
Red: (Sarcastically.) I'll pass that along to Nightmare.
(For a moment there is only the sound of the surf, less audible now that the wind has died and the water has calmed.)
Red: How are you liking your new friends?
Squirrel: (Growls distastefully.) It has taken every bit of self control I could muster to restrain myself from skewering that silly dungeon explorer and from throttling that bubble-headed blonde.
Red: I'll request that you be allowed those very satisfactions. Putnam has been in touch with Nightmare. He's not happy with these intruders. (There's an uncomfortable pause.) I notice you haven't mentioned the girl.
Squirrel: (Chuckles.) I figure Nightmare's storm troopers will get a great deal of enjoyment out of her.
Red: They'll be here tonight. Mossers, Charlie, and Erica have orders to kill Buxton and tie Al up.
Squirrel: I want to be there when Putnam takes the knife to her.
Red: I think that can be arranged.
(There is a sound of brush and sand as Red climbs back down the dune. In the cottage, the cat is asleep on top of the bookcase. M and Penelope are asleep on the sofa. A tiny tapping on the door awakens the cat, who opens its golden eyes. The cat gets up and stretches, then leaps lightly to the mantel, to a chair, and to the floor. Then, where the cat was, Tavy is standing. She goes to the door and opens it. Squirrel comes in, highly agitated.)
Squirrel: We've got to get out of here, fast! (Looks at M and Penelope.) Wake them up.
(With a questioning look, Tavy goes to Penelope and shakes her lightly. Penelope opens her eyes.)
Tavy: (Softly.) Something's up.
Squirrel: Nightmare's storm troopers are on their way.
(Penelope sits up abruptly, wakes M.)
Penelope: What are they after?
Squirrel: Al, and they'll be taking us, too, as payback for giving Frank Putnam less than he deserved.
M: (Sleepily. Yawns.) Has anyone made coffee yet?
Penelope: I'm afraid we may not have time for coffee.
Squirrel: The men who killed Tavy's father are coming for us.
Penelope: (To Squirrel.) And you think Putnam's behind this?
M: I'm sure he didn't appreciate Squirrel's autographing his lab coat.
Squirrel: Mossers and that bunch are going to kill Buxton. They're going to tie Al up and deliver her to Nightmare.
(For a few moments, as the news sinks in, no one says anything. M scratches his head.)
Penelope: Unless we can find a way to stop them. (Looks at M.)
M: (Blankly.) I'm a first-level magic user. I can do the fireball, but that's about it.
Squirrel: It's pitch black out there, and thick fog. You can't see an inch in front of your face.
Penelope: (Thinking.) That means there's no wind.
M: (Looks at her quizzically, then shakes his head.) Uhm um. No. Bad idea. Wrong conditions anyway.
Penelope: (Smiles.) So, you like me with blonde hair and blue eyes?
Squirrel: (Divining their plans.) If you don't mind swimming, you shouldn't have any trouble reaching the ship unseen.
M: Tavy can hide among the dunes. (Looks at Penelope.) Assuming we succeed, what do we do after that.
Penelope: (Shrugs.) I don't know. I'm making this up as I go.
Squirrel: (Laughs.) Oh, I liked that line!
(Tavy regards him curiously.)
Squirrel: From Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's the scene where . . .
M: If we survive this, we'll rent the movie and order pizza. (He rubs his eyes.)
Tavy: What do you want me to do?
M: Avoid getting caught.
Penelope: Okay, Mossers, Charlie, and Erica.
M: Give 'em a shock they'll never get over. (He goes to the mantel and extinguishes the lamp.)
(With Squirrel in the lead, they exit the cottage into the blackness.)
M: Uhmff!Penelope: Oww!
M: I can't breathe!
Tavy: Oh, something's pulling my hair!
Penelope: Sorry, honey.
M: (Spitting.) I have sand in my mouth.
Squirrel: Boy, am I glad I jumped out the way!
Penelope: (Climbing off of Tavy and getting to her feet in the darkness.) Falling down the steps probably wasn't the best way to start.
(Theres's a sound of laughter as Squirrel rolls in the sand.)
M: I'm going to shoot that little devil!
(Tavy climbs off of M. M gets up and brushes the sand off of himself.)
M: Is everyone okay?
Tavy: I am.
Penelope: I'm fine. What happens now?
M: You and I will go to the ship and try to rescue Al. Tavy and Squirrel will stay here in the dunes and hide.
Penelope: Time for me to go green?
M: Oh, God! Don't tell me you're an ethanol proponent.
Penelope: (Clears her throat.) Should I change into something a little more comfortable, like my marsh gas outfit?
M: Uhm, not a bad idea.
(Where Penelope was standing, a pale, wispish, luminescent cloud appears, and in the faint glow they all can see each other.)
Tavy: (Pulling the hair out of her eyes.) Some people are swimming ashore.
Squirrel: (No longer laughing.) Who is it?
Tavy: Al and Buxton. (She looks perplexed.) Something's wrong.
M: What do you mean?
Tavy: They're escaping, running away from the others.
Penelope: I'm picking that up, too, and more. There are people on the way with evil intent, but they're arriving from another dimension. They seem to be having trouble getting here.
M: Lucky for us. Let's get to the beach. Tavy, maybe you'd better turn into a cat, in case we meet up with characters we don't know.
(Tavy fades before their eyes.)
M: The mosquitos are eating me alive.
(There is a soft meow. The mosquitos mysteriously disperse. With Squirrel using his pen as a flashlight and Penelope floating along like a green ghost, they hurry to the beach, then run along the shore to the spot where the rowboat had been. They can hear Todd and Al struggling in the waves.)
Al: I told you I couldn't swim!
Buxton: Let's just alert everybody on board ship, shall we? I'm doing the best I can.
(From the distance comes Mosser's voice.)
Mossers: Hey! Look on the beach!
Penelope: Oh, hell. They can see me. (The green glow disappears.)
M: Where'd you go?
Penelope: I'm standing right beside you.
M: I can't see a blessed thing.
Penelope: We'd better get out there and help them.
(Penelope reaches for M's hand.) Wait a minute. I can't go out there in my boots. (She unlaces her boots but can't get them off. She sits down in the sand.)
M: Good Lord!
(M pulls Penelope's boots off. Then Penelope and M wade out into the surf.)
Mossers: Get out here on deck, Island Boy, and help me lower this boat!
Buxton: Now they're after us.
Penelope: Mr. Buxton, can you hear me?
Buxton: Who the hell is that?
Penelope: It's Penelope Parsons. Spades and I have come out to help.
Al: (Coughs.) Help!
Buxton: Put your feet on the ground, dear. We're in shallow water now.
(Penelope takes Al's other arm and helps guide her to the beach.)
Mossers: Aaaaggh!
Erica: I've had it! (Screams.)
Charlie: They're eating me up!
M: I wonder what's going on with them.
(In the light from the cabin, the four in the surf can see Erica run for the cabin door, Mossers and Charlie on her heels. The door slams behind them.)
M: Squirrel, where are you?
(A small glow appears on the beach as Squirrel uses his pen to make light.)
Buxton: How do you know you're not delivering Al right into the hands of Nightmare? That squirrel works for him.
Penelope: Nightmare's men are on his way and will be here any moment.
Al: What?
(The four walk wearily onto the beach. Squirrel, sitting on the sand by the cat, is using his pen as a dim lantern.)
Buxton: (Pointing.) There's a black cat!
Al: Calm down, Todd.
Buxton: It's bad luck, an ill omen!
M: The cat's with us.
Penelope: Al, our best chance is to change dimensions. Nightmare expects to find us here. We may not be your characters, but for whatever reason, we're all in your mind, so you should be able to transport all of us to another setting, the way you got here from Hadley Manor.
Al: (Wary.) How do you know about that?
Penelope: (An innocent expression on her face.) Merely a wild assumption?
Buxton: (Adamantly.) The squirrel's not coming.
M: Then neither am I. (Turns to Al.) Get out of here. Go back to Hadley Manor, anywhere but Putnam's laboratory. We can hide in the woods.
Al: (Shaking her head, looking at Penelope, the cat, Squirrel, and M.) No. I'm not leaving you here to face those creeps in the black robes.
M: I'll burn a few of them alive, and Penelope here'll give the rest of them the electric chair experience.
(Tavy appears where the cat had been sitting.)
Buxton: Holy Saints! (Stumbles backward.)
Tavy: (Looks at M and Penelope.) Sorry. You need to know. Whatever's coming will be here any second.
Buxton: How does she know that?
M: She's funny that way.
Penelope: Al and Buxton, this is Tavy.
Squirrel: This is no time for introductions. We need to take cover, get into the woods, and fast. Come on!
Al: Wait. (She shivers.) You won't get far running from the storm troopers. (She glances back at the ship.) I know a better place. A place where they can't find us.
Tavy: (In astonishment and dismay.) Where did they go?Squirrel: I don't know, but I know where I'm going!
(Squirrel runs for the woods, Tavy, Penelope, and M right behind him.)
Penelope: Spades, would you grab my boots, please?
M: Good grief! (Grabbing the boots.) What am I, a personal servant?
(Without warning, several hooded figures in black robes appear on the beach not far from them.)
M: (Dropping the boots.) Run!
(The figures come toward toward them. M hurls a fireball, and two of them burst into flames. Penelope, turning, sends streaks of lightning from her fingertips. Thunder like cannonfire shakes the beach, and the remainder of the figures, electricity shooting through them, collapse lifeless.)
M: (Agape.) I'd hate to see you when you're mad.
Penelope: I'm getting there fast. (She looks around.) Why can I see what's going on?
(Squirrel and Tavy have taken cover in the trees.)
Squirrel: (Calling.) Come on! Get off the beach!
Tavy: Why isn't it dark?
(A sinister figure appears on the sand.)
Nightmare: Mwahahaha!
(His laughter ends in shrieks as lightning courses through him and he bursts into flames then falls into a burning heap. Rumbling from the lightning flash echoes over the water.)
M: Got him!
Penelope: (Staring at M.) I beg your pardon. I'm the one who got him.
M: (Regards Nightmare's burning remains. Turns, hands on hips.) Look, Blondie, I threw the fireball first.
Squirrel: (Pointing.) That's Nightmare. They killed Nightmare!
Tavy: Who's Nightmare? (She gasps.) Look at the ship.
(As they gaze out, they can see that Mossers, Charlie, and Erica have been standing on deck, watching. Now they are frantically trying to raise the sails.)
Penelope: (Wagging her finger.) Don't you call me Blondie!
M: Don't point that finger at me. (Alarmed.) It might go off.
Squirrel: Nightmare is--(stares in disbelief at the smoking figures on the beach)--was, uhm, the most powerful and evil sorcerer in this realm. (He shakes his head.) He's not going to be happy about this.
Tavy: It looks to me like he's dead.
Squirrel: (Shakes his head.) In stories like these, regular characters don't stay dead long.
Penelope: (Walks up to M, pointing her finger at him. Getting close, she places her finger on his mouth.) I think somebody needs to deal with you. (She raises her eyebrows.) You're just a little too big for your britches.
(On the beach nearby, several more robed figures appear.)
Penelope: (Sighs.) Looks like we're in for additional target practice.
(Seeing the smoking bodies, the hooded figures look about, confused. One points at Nightmare. Another gestures toward the ship, the sails of which have been raised. In the dim, pinkish light from the sky, Charlie can be seen hauling up the anchor. The fog has mostly dissipated. After hurried discussion, one of the hooded figures approaches M and Penelope cautiously, palms out as a sign of truce.)
M: (To Penelope.) Women are always better at socializing. Why don't you do the talking.
Penelope: (Gives M a reproving glance, then addresses the figure.) What are you doing here?
Figure: (Hesitantly, in a deep voice.) Uhm, well, we, uhm, we were on our way to a dissertation defense, uhm, and got lost. (He bows solicitously.) We're very sorry for the intrusion, and we'll be gone momentarily. (He backs away, bowing, clearly expecting at any moment to be reduced to cinders.)
Squirrel: Look at that! If I weren't seeing it, I wouldn't believe it.
Tavy: What?
Squirrel: Nightmare's storm troopers. They're the scourge of the Al-iverse! They're not afraid of anything.
(Flinging off their robes, with shouts and cries, the storm troopers plunge into the water, swimming out to the ship. As M and Penelope watch the bizarre scene, Squirrel and Tavy join them.)
Squirrel: We haven't seen the last of those, I fear.
Tavy: I don't have the feeling more are on their way. (She glances around.) Something's changing, though.
Penelope: What do you mean, Tavy?
Tavy: The setting. It's been tampered with, but it's righting itself. See, the air is clearing. (She puts her hand up.) And the breeze is coming back.
Squirrel: I don't think Charlie and Erica are too happy with their visitors! (He starts laughing, then rolls on the sand, his tail swishing.)
(In the near distance, the ship is not yet underway. Half-clad storm-troopers are attempting to climb aboard as Charlie and Erica, with swinging swords, attempt unsuccessfully to fight them off. Mossers is at the helm.)
Penelope: (Her expression clouding.) I wonder what became of Buxton and Al?
M: I don't have a good feeling about that.
Penelope: I don't either.
Tavy: Why?
Penelope: (Looks kindly at Tavy.) Love triangles don't usually have happy endings. She's fond of Buxton, but she loves Putnam, who can't be redeemed by her love.
Tavy: (Sadly.) That's tragic.
M: (Looking quizzically at Penelope.) So Putnam's a projection carrier for her?
Penelope: Isn't that why women are attracted to men who aren't good for them? (She smiles knowingly at M, who looks away uncomfortably.)
(The ship has turned toward the horizon and is sailing off, the storm troopers safely aboard.)
M: So she'll find her way back to Putnam's laboratory somehow.
Tavy: (Softly.) Journeys end in lovers meeting.
(Everyone stares at her.)
Squirrel: (Shaking the sand off of him.) Where have I heard that?
Tavy: Twelfth Night.
M finds himself suddenly pushed and stumbling backwards. The next thing he knows, he's lying flat on his back and Penelope is sitting on his stomach.)
Penelope: (Smiles.) I think you and I need to have a little talk about your manners.
M: (Grunts.) My manners.
Penelope: (Straddles him.) Uhm hmm. (Bending over, she runs her fingers through his hair. A peculiar expression comes over her face.) Do you smell pizza?
Squirrel: (Hopping up and down.) It's a dream come true!
(Penelope notices a pair of legs and dark shoes. Looking up, she sees a delivery boy standing a few feet away. He has a box in his hand and is studying the ticket.)
Delivery Boy: Someone on a ship ordered three large pizzas. Canadian bacon and black olive, with extra cheese.
I haven't figured out yet what to do next. I hadn't intended to turn this into a story. It just sort of happened. I may let Penelope and her bunch have a party on the beach, now that things are back to normal there (relatively). Developing the setting has been fun!I like the weird song the crew on the ship hears in the scene you wrote where it gets misty and dark:
Woman: *singing*
In the night,
The cruel night,
they come when you sleep.
They come when you dream.
Take your family, friends,
Take your life.
They come when you sleep.
(A bonfire burns on the beach. Spades and Penelope and Tavy have dragged driftwood along the shore and fallen limbs from the woods and piled them where the rowboat had once been beached. The eternal evening, with its full moon and refreshing breeze, has returned. In the interim, Nightmare's corpse and those of the storm troopers have mysteriously vanished. Tavy has brought wine and a guitar from the cottage. The first box of pizza box has been finished off and the second box opened.)Penelope: I thought bears would eat anything.
Squirrel: So did I.
(Ursula splashes in the surf, a fish in her mouth.)
Squirrel: That's more pizza for us.
Penelope: Squirrel, how did you come to work for Nightmare?
Squirrel: Why did you have ask that? Why couldn't you have asked what kind of aftershave I use or how I knew the Germans were going to run out of gas?
Spades: There must be squirrels are aren't on Nightmare's payroll.
Squirrel: In this world, squirrels have got nothin'. (Looks at Spades.) Sort of the way I gather it is in your world. Becoming a henchsquirrel is the only way to get ahead. Otherwise you just get beat up.
Penelope: Are you still working for Nightmare?
Squirrel: (Grunts.) If I were, I certainly wouldn't tell you. (Looks earnestly at Spades and Penelope.) There's a difference between loyalty and fear. Everyone who works for Nightmare is terrified of him. What do you think is going to happen to me if Red or Mossers or anyone else who's in league with Nightmare catches me after today? I'm squirrel soup. (He nibbles on a little chunk of pizza he's holding in his paws.)
(Tavy sits on driftwood stump, a guitar on her lap. Her eyes closed, she hums as she plays.)
Spades: What are you playing, Tavy?
Tavy: It's called "The Road to Lisdoonvarna."
(The wind whips the fire, blows strands of Tavy's hair. They listen as she plays and sings.)
Penelope: (To Spades.) Tavy has a mesmerizing voice.
(Spades nods. At length, Tavy puts down the guitar and gets another slice of pizza.)
Penelope: How old were you when you started playing?
Tavy: I've been playing instruments as long as I can remember. A guitar's easy to take with you. (She smiles sadly.) I miss the piano.
Spades: Where did you live?
Tavy: Cambridge. (A wistful look comes into her eyes.) Dad was a professor. We lived in a lovely little house.
Penelope: What was your mother like?
Tavy: (Shakes her head.) I don't remember her very well. She died when I was seven. She was a dreamy, dark-haired beauty. My father worshipped her. He always said I got my looks and talent from her.
Penelope: What was her name?
Tavy: (Her eyes clouding.) Michelle. Dad was desolate, inconsolable. He fell into the clutches of an evil woman, then married her. (She shudders.) That's why Dad brought me here, to get away from her. When the men in the black robes came, I thought she had sent them.
Spades: What is this place?
Tavy: We always heard it called Orchard Bay, by the fishermen we used to see occasionally. According to Dad, there used to be orchards for miles, but all of that has gone wild over the years. In the forest are old fruit trees, so gnarled and twisted you'd hardly recognize what they were. (She points.) There are the ruins of a castle up in the hills. We trekked up to see it once.
Penelope: Tavy, how long have you been here?
Tavy: (Considering, shakes her head.) I don't know. A long time. You don't get any older here. There's no time.
Spades: Then why is there a clock in the cottage?
Tavy: (Smiles.) It's how we keep track of the weather. (Laughs.) I know. That doesn't make any sense. The clock used to hang in Dad's study. It was something he found in a junk shop in London and repaired himself. I guess he brought it with him because he couldn't bear to part with it. (She sighs.) It wouldn't keep time, though, after we got here. It ticked, but the hands always stayed at five seventeen.
Penelope: (Glancing at Spades.) That means it's always five seventeen here.
Tavy: Not always. When the hands move, it means something's wrong. (She looks at them.) You didn't notice? The hands advanced when it got dark, before Mr. Buxton arrived. Now they're back to normal. (She turns her eyes on Spades.) How did you get here?
Spades: Ask Penelope. It's all her fault. (He takes a sip of wine.)
Penelope: (Makes a moue.) I saved him and Squirrel from a psychotic lobotomist, and you can see the thanks I get.
Spades: There was a medieval town on top of a complex of enormous, underground chambers, one of them several thousand feet deep and large enough to house a city built on a lake. No one had been down there in years. It was all closed off. I had friend who was a cleric, and we were tired of being poor. We figured there must be loot down there.
Tavy: (Eyes wide.) Was there?
Spades: (Grins.) Was there? Bags of it. We never got back above ground with it. (He opens the box and takes another slice of pizza.) Fred got killed.
Penelope: Who is Colleen?
Spades: How do you know about her?
Penelope: (She pats him.) You talk in your sleep.
Spades: (Clears his throat.) She was one of two girls who went on the exploration with us. Uhm, it's a long story.
Penelope: (Her eyes narrow.) I'll bet.
Spades: I'm sure Blondie here was leading a chaste life as an actress in silent films. (He takes a bite of the pizza.)
Penelope: Well, I suppose I did have a thing going with the director. (Rolls her eyes.) And the leading man, though neither of them knew of the other's involvement. (She sighs in a resigned way.) I thought I was on my way to stardom. In Hollywood, that's how you get there.
Spades: But instead you got beheaded, de-feeted by bad timing and a mail train.
Penelope: That remark doesn't merit typing.
Spades: (Looks over at Squirrel, who is now asleep on the sand, his little belly bulging, pieces of pizza crust lying all around him.)
Spades: Squirrel would have thought it was funny, but he's asleep.
Penelope: (Raises her eyebrows, nods.) Uhm hmm. I'm sure he's laughing in his dreams.
(Tavy picks up the guitar and plays a few minor chords. Ursula has maundered away down the beach. There is the hypnotic crash of the surf. Feeling drowsy from the wine and pizza, Spades lays his head in Penelope's lap and closes his eyes. He feels her fingers in his hair, hears the sound of the waves and of Tavy's haunting voice as he falls asleep.)
Tavy: Tell her to buy me an acre of land . . . between the salt water and the sea strand . . . Then she'll be a true love of mine . . .
(Tavy stops playing. Penelope has been listening rapt to her eerie passages of broken chords. Tavy's wearing a shawl she brought from the cottage. Spades and Squirrel are asleep, Squirrel curled up on the sand, Spades with his head in Penelope's lap. Penelope has pulled her motoring coat around him. The fire has died down.)Penelope: What's wrong?
Tavy: Don't you sense it? Something's happened.
Penelope: (A little unsettled.) Yeah. (Looks at Tavy sympathetically.) You've been playing some very strange music. What are you picking up?
Tavy: (Shakes her head, uncertain.) Division of good and evil, that sort of thing. (Returns Penelope's inquiring gaze.) As though someone has cast evil out of her world. But you can't do that. Evil is a part of you. Take it away, and you cease to exist, like a magnet when you remove the negative pole.
Penelope: (Laughs.) You've been reading too much New Age philosophy.
Tavy: Isn't it true?
Penelope: (Nods.) Banishing evil is a dangerous tactic. When you lock it away, you can't keep your eye on it. The only hope is to reform evil, assimilate it, make it conscious. (Smiles.) Isn't that what Joseph Campbell would say?
Tavy: (Surprised.) How do you know about Joseph Campbell? I thought you died in 1916.
Penelope: I've been around a long time as a will-o'-the-wisp with an erratic tuner. I tune in people's thoughts the way a radio picks up stations in the night. (Sighs.) Tell me what your life was like before you came here.
Tavy: It was wonderful and then it was hell. Our little hiding place here on the bay was like a paradise until . . . (Her eyes brim with tears.)
Penelope: I'm sorry, Tavy.
Tavy: (Nods.)
Penelope: You said you missed the piano.
Tavy: There's nothing like it, it's so versatile, its sound so beautiful.
Penelope: What sorts of things did you play?
Tavy: Pieces by Rachmaninoff, Brahms, Debussy. (She brightens.) Do you know Ravel's Pavane for a Dead Princess?
Penelope: (Smiles.) I'm a lowbrow, honey. I know it as "The Lamp Is Low."
Tavy: How about Schubert's "Serenade"?
(Penelope looks blank.)
Tavy: "Fur Elise"?
Penelope: (Nods.) I have heard of Beethoven. Don't you like anything popular? You know, like "Body and Soul" or "Autumn in New York"?
Tavy: (Shrugs.) I can play some Gershwin. I know "Malaguena." (She laughs.) I drove my father crazy with that one! Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum!
Penelope: You know a lot of the old ballads. "Scarborough Fair," "Greensleeves," "Black Is the Color of My True Love's Hair."
(At the mention of that, sadness returns to Tavy's eyes.)
Penelope: (Changing the subject.) If we don't want to catch cold, we probably should get inside, out of the wind. (Looking down, she rubs Spades' head.)
Spades: (His low snoring ending in a snort.) Huh? (Opens his eyes.) Who are you?
Penelope: (Her eyes wide in surprise.) Who am I? (Raises her hand.) I'll smack you!
(Spades grins mischievously, then gets up.
Penelope: (Getting to her feet, she stretches.) Who am I, indeed!
Spades: (Noticing the embers.) It must be time to go in. (He sees Squirrel, and a sly smile creeps across his face. Picking up a willow wand, he goes quietly over to Squirrel and pokes him in the belly. With something like a squirrel scream, Squirrel leaps out of sleep, flinging sand, his tail swishing. He reaches for his scabbard only to see Spades standing before him. Spades is laughing so hard that tears run down his face.)
Squirrel: You almost gave me a coronary! It could have been Nightmare! (His brow furrows.) I'll get you for that.
(Taking care to cover the coals with sand, in the never-ended afternoon they walk down the beach toward the cottage. Tavy wonders about Al and Todd Buxton and Frank Putnam. She has the feeling that Putnam isn't like the other characters, but more like a real person.)
Tavy: Where have I heard that phrase "in the never-ended afternoon"?
Squirrel: Tennyson. It's from Idylls of the King. (Glances up at Tavy.) What made you think of that?
Tavy: It was part of the narration.
(The old, brass clock ticks peacefully on the wall near the desk. The bit second hand goes around, and the moon hands pointing to the Roman numerals show five seventeen. Penelope is asleep on the sofa, Spades and Tavy on cots, Squirrel curled up on a cushion before the coals glowing in the fireplace. A face looks in the window. It's a face with angry eyes that recognize Spades and Penelope and Squirrel. The eyes narrow as the face smiles diabolically. Another face appears beside it, the face of a woman. Then the faces withdraw and there is only the view of the brush-capped dunes and late-evening sky. Penelope, suddenly awake, looks about the room. Throwing back the quilt, she goes to Spades and wakens him.)Spades: (Eyes barely open.) Hmm?
Penelope: Ssshhh. (Whispers.) I think we have company.
(Spades quietly gets out of his cot and withdraws with Penelope to the far corner by the stove.)
Spades: Did you see someone?
Penelope: (Shakes her head.) No, but I'm picking up very strong sensations of someone's presence and of malicious intent.
Spades: (Sighs, looking at Squirrel and Tavy, who are peacefully sleeping.) We need to wake them up. They're sitting ducks.
(Spades wakes up Squirrel while Penelope rouses Tavy, who sits up, yawns, and rubs her eyes.)
Squirrel: What's up.
Spades: Penelope thinks we have visitors.
Squirrel: (Scratching his head.) It isn't as though the legions of evil don't know where we are. This cabin's like a cage. They could burn us alive in here, if they wanted.
Penelope: I'm going to slip into my green negligee and see what I can tune in.
(Penelope seems to fade away before their eyes, and there is a smell of methane. A few moments later, they hear her disembodied voice.)
Penelope: It's Frank Putnam and some woman. They're a few yards away outside, among the dunes, talking.
Tavy: (To Spades.) Who is Frank Putnam.
Spades: (Going to the wall beside the window and peering out guardedly.) An evil doctor who wants to cut part of Al's brain out.
Tavy: (In horror.) Why would anyone want to do something like that?
Squirrel: To make her docile. (Glances at the window nervously.) She'll have no will of her own after that.
Tavy: (Folding her arms.) What can we do?
Spades: Keep him from doing the same thing to us.
Putnam: (Picking up a twig.) Just because she used to be Mona Lisa, she thinks she can cut me out, write me off in a final chapter. (Snaps the twig.)Andrea: Why do you want to hurt her?
Putnam: (Leaning close.) She craves it, Andrea.
Andrea: (Pulling away in revulsion.) How do you know that?
Putnam: (With smug certitude.) She created me.
Andrea: You're a character in one of her novels! Do you think J. K. Rowling created Voldemort because she was in love with him? (She glares at him.) Old Snake Eyes?
Putnam: (Taken aback.) Are you insinuating that I might be an evil character merely because the plot calls for one? (He casts the broken twig away viciously.)
Andrea: What did you think you were, a father figure, or that her unconscious belched you up from the archetypal deep? (She smirks.) In every heart, there is a room, a sanctuary safe and strong . . ."
Putnam: Shut up!
Andrea: How many times have you violated that sanctuary?
Putnam: (Staring in front of him.) I am what what she made me.
(Putnam gets to his feet. Going to a nearby dune, he peers around it at the cottage. The big window is blank.)
Putnam: They're in there. (He glances down at his lab coat.)
Andrea: What are you looking at?
Putnam: (Shrugs.) I had a stain on my lab coat.
Andrea: (Walks over and looks.) I don't see a stain.
Putnam: The hospital laundry service got it out.
Andrea: (Looking at him questioningly.) I can't believe you've never done anything nice for anyone.
Putnam: (Sighs.) Andrea, (He gives her a tired, knowing look.) has it ever occurred to you that I might be out of character?
Andrea: (Puts her arms around him.) Oh, Frank.
Putnam: I'm afraid this isn't the time, Andrea.
Andrea: Why?
Putnam: (Tilts his head.) In that cottage, there's a blonde who can point her fingers at you and make you see more fireworks in a couple of seconds than New York City has launched on Independence Day in a century. (His eye twitches.)
Andrea: (Shaking her head.) Then why are we here on the beach, where they can hurt us? (She points.) There's a wonderful, sunlit orchard just waiting for us.
Putnam: It's not only the blonde.
Andrea: Oh?
Putnam: (Growls.) There's a squirrel in that hut. I have a laundry bill to settle with him.
Andrea: (Stroking his hair.) If you weren't out of character, would you be so concerned with squirrels and laundry bills?
Putnam: (His eyes flashing.) God, no, woman! I'm a brain surgeon. What do I care for squirrels and laundry bills?
Andrea: (Looking him in the eyes.) And every time I've held a rose, it seems I've only felt the thorns . . .
(In the cabin, Spades, Squirrel, and Tavy watch through the window. Nothing moves. On the clock, the tiny second hand goes around and around.)
Penelope: I don't believe it.
Spades: What?
Penelope: They're doing it, right out there in public, among the dunes.
Tavy: (Puzzled.) Doing what?
Penelope: (Hesitantly.) Uhm, having an earnest discussion.
Tavy: Does it seem to you that we've been watching the window for an eternity, and that the second hand on the clock has made the circle about a thousand times?
Squirrel: Yeah. You know, I got up, and then I just stood here, and there was nothing to say.
Spades: (Looking at Squirrel.) Me, too. No lines.
Penelope: It's our writer. I think he's had things going on. (She materializes.) As far as I can tell, we're out of danger, for the time being, at least.
Tavy: (Looking at her, obviously glad to see her.) Are they gone?
Penelope: No, but I suspect they'd appreciate it if we didn't attack just now.
Squirrel: (Agitated.) I'm sure he's not happy about the decorating job I did on his lab coat.
Penelope: (Walking to the kitchen.) I'm going to mix myself a drink.
Tavy: (Brightening.) I can show you where Dad keeps his scotch!
Spades: (Glancing at Squirrel.) Too bad squirrels don't drink scotch.
Squirrel: (Incredulous, whiskers twitching.) Maybe in your world!
(Squirrel is savoring a shot glass of single-malt scotch, when suddenly Tavy leaps to her feet, her eyes wide.)Tavy: No!
(Tavy runs to the door, opens it, and disappears outside. Setting her drink down, in surprise and concern, Penelope goes after her, followed by Spades and Squirrel. Standing before the cottage are Frank and Andrea Putnam. Frank, standing poised to hurl a fireball, seems mesmerized by Tavy.)
Putnam: Aaaahhh! (He screams, dropping the fireball, his hand black and smoking. The ball of fire falls by his foot, catching his pants leg on fire.) Aaaaghhh! (He jumps aside, gripping his burned hand, wincing in pain. Andrea throws sand on Frank's burning pants. The fireball goes out in the sand, leaving a large pool of molten glass. Seeing Penelope, Putnam's eyes get wide.)
Putnam: No! No! Please, not again!
Penelope: (Wagging her finger.) You know, I could lobotomize you from right here.
Andrea: How dare you! (Starts menacingly toward Penelope but steps in the pool of molten glass. She screams, then falls backward, holding her scalded foot.)
Squirrel: Tsk. Tsk. (Shakes his head.) Didn't your mother teach you not to play with fire?
Putnam: (Through a grimace of pain.) I'll get you, you miserable squirrel!
Squirrel: I guess he's not into designer lab coats.
(As Putnam glowers, clutching his burned hand, and Andrea writhes on the ground in agony, Penelope goes to Tavy and takes her hand.)
Penelope: (To Tavy.) I want you to follow along with my thoughts.
(Tavy nods. A few moments later, Putnam and Andrea disappear.)
Spades: What did you do?
Penelope: We dialed the central office and asked for instructions. (Glances at Spades.) I wonder how he learned to make a fireball?
Spades: (Shakes his head.) I certainly didn't teach him. (Looks at Squirrel.) You were right. We could have been burned alive in there. It's a lucky thing Penelope has a tuner that runs at all hours.
Tavy: (A determined expression on her face.) Nobody's going to burn my father's house.
Spades: (Curious.) How did you stop him? He was ready to throw it.
(Tavy shrugs, clearly not knowing how to answer.)
Penelope: Remember how she put thoughts into the bear's mind when Mossers and his crew were on the beach?
Squirrel: You mean she can control people's minds?
Penelope: (Smiles at Tavy.) I suspect she gets that from her mother.
Squirrel: Well, Prince Charming won't have to look any farther for his princess with a glass slipper. (Raising his eyebrows, he bursts into squirrel laughter, then rolls on the sand.)
Spades: (Watches Squirrel, then starts laughing.) He cracks me up.
(Meanwhile, Putnam and Andrea find themselves in a very different place, a bare room. A fire burns in a fireplace. Al stands at a window that has yellow drapes. Todd Buxton clearly isn't glad to see Frank and his wife. Andrea sprawls on the board floor, hands clasped on her ankle. Putnam's hand is black, his shirt sleeve burned away nearly to the elbow.)
Al: (Turning at length from the window, she looks at Frank and sighs irritatedly.) I take it this means you two weren't happy to stay in the orchard?
(Amid the roar of the surf from beyond the dunes, squirrel laughter issues from the ground in front of the cottage as the unlikely reincarnation of George Patton rolls in the sand, swishing his tail. Tavy goes and closes the cottage door, and the four walk out to the beach. A luminous full moon hangs in the pale sky. Above it and to the left is the evening star. From the nearby woods, Ursula ambles out and joins them. She nuzzles Tavy, who pets her. Then the bear goes out into the waves, looking for dinner. Now and then a fish leaps in the breakers.)Penelope: How long have you been able to influence the thoughts of people and animals, Tavy?
Tavy: Oh, since I was little. (She pulls back the hair the wind has blown across her face.) My nanny would bring me whatever I wanted. (She laughs.) And she didn't even know why she did it!
Penelope: You saved the cottage. (She looks at Tavy.) Putnam would have burned it, with us inside it.
Tavy: (Her expression darkening.) He is a very bad man.
Penelope: You could tell?
Tavy: (Nods.) There's not an ounce of goodwill or good intention in him. I could sense that very clearly. (Looks at Penelope.) And his wife has no conscience, either. They're very lazy people.
Spades: How do you know that?
Tavy: Because they can't stand to be still, not for an instant. They always have to be up to something. Haven't you noticed?
Penelope: (Laughs.) That's a peculiar observation.
Tavy: It's true, isn't it? People who work hard relax when they're not working. They have to, and they certainly don't have time to be up to mischief.
Penelope: I suppose not.
Spades: I know that's been true for me. I've never had time to be up to mischief.
(Penelope bursts into high-pitched laughter. Squirrel look incredulous, then bursts into laughter and rolls on the sand.)
Tavy: (Watching them, puzzled.) What are they laughing at?
Spades: (Shrugs, restraining a smile.) I haven't the remotest idea.
Tavy: We have to find a way to protect ourselves.
Spades: Hmm? What do you mean? In what way?
Tavy: From people like Putnam and Andrea. (A look of defiance comes into her eyes.) And from men like those in black robes, who came for my father.
(Ursula comes out of the surf with a fish in her mouth. On the beach, the bear shakes water out of her fur.)
Tavy: She's happy.
Penelope: You can tell?
(Tavy nods, smiling.)
Spades: I keep wondering how Putnam summoned a fireball. That takes magical power. Not just anyone can do it. It isn't something that can be learned.
Squirrel: You have the power. You must have gotten it somewhere.
Spades: As part of a sword-and-sorcery game I was in briefly.
Squirrel: Did you become emperor of some realm?
Spades: (Laughs.) No. I never advanced beyond the first level.
Penelope: What happened?
Spades: Nothing, really. I just didn't enjoy the game, so I got out. (He shrugs.) I suppose I'm not a game player.
Squirrel: How did you get out?
Spades: I tried to get out by dying. I blew up a fireworks factory, but miraculously I survived it.
Tavy: You wanted to die?
Spades: (Regarding her with a wry smile.) No character wants to die. M, whose character I was, got tired of sitting on a hard floor and rolling polyhedral dice.
(They reach the place where the bonfire had been. The bear, having finished the fish, catches up with them. Tavy picks up a stick and stirs the ashes.)
Tavy: I hope we have many more bonfires.
Squirrel: I'll drink to that!
Penelope: I believe I have a scotch and soda waiting for me at the cottage.
Tavy: And cheese and crackers.
Spades: Don't you wonder how soda water came to be in a place like this?
Penelope: There are indeed unexpected amenities.
Tavy: (Excitedly.) Wait till you explore my father's library!
(As they walk back toward the cottage, Spades picks up a piece of driftwood for the fireplace. The bear sniffs Squirrel, who shrieks and takes cover behind Penelope. Ursula heads unhurriedly back to the trees. An occasional sea bird skims the waves, crying in the sea breeze that blows strands of Tavy's long, dark hair. Penelope sings, When I was thirty-five, it was a very good year . . . )
Alex, this may not be acceptable for a Rated PG thread. This is what the characters seemed to want to do this morning, and I just went along with them. I'm thinking about having Tavy's stepmother be a former wife or girlfriend of Nightmare, whose aid she enlists when Tavy and her father go into hiding.-----------------------
(Spades sits among the dunes alone, near the cabin. He's concealed in brush. Inside, everyone has been asleep for several hours. The door opens and Penelope comes out in a bathrobe. She has a cup of coffee in one hand, a towel under her arm, and a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap in the other hand. She closes the door quietly, descends the steps, and approaches Spades. She hands him the coffee.)
Spades: Why, thank you. (Looks at her tousled hair.) Did you get a good afternoon's sleep?
Penelope: (Smiles.) I did.
Spades: I see you have a towel and a bottle of shampoo.
Penelope: I'm going to take a bath.
Spades: (Looking at her bare legs and feet.) I take you it don't have on formal attire under that.
Penelope: I never was one for bathing with my clothes on.
(Spades takes a sip of his coffee.)
Penelope: (Bending over and running her fingers through his hair.) Don't you need a bath?
Spades: (Coughs, choking on his coffee.) Go out there?
(Penelope nods.)
Spades: (Regards her incredulously.) Without any clothes on?
Penelope: (Puzzled.) You've slain monsters. You've been with all sorts of women. Do you mean to tell me that you're afraid to strip off and go out in the surf for a much-needed bath?
Spades: (Stammering.) Uhm, well, I, uhm.
(Penelope reaches down and takes him by the hand. He jerks his hand free.)
Spades: Now, wait a minute! Someone needs to keep watch.
Penelope: Ssshh! (Glancing back toward the cottage.) They're still asleep. They're perfectly safe. (She arches an eyebrow.) But I may need protection.
Spades: (Wide eyed, in a loud whisper.) I think you're mixed up about who may need protecting from whom.
(Reluctantly, Spades follows Penelope to the beach. No one is in sight but the bear. A quarter mile down the shore, Ursula is emerging from the waves with a fish in her mouth. Penelope sets her folded towel on the sand, takes the cup of coffee from Spades and sets it down, then removes her bathrobe, which she carefully folds and sets on the towel. Penelope has a very attractive figure, but Spades averts his eyes, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Penelope comes up to him and begins unbottoning his shirt.)
Spades: (Alarmed.) I think I can take off my own shirt, thank you.
(Smiling, Penelope continues as though she hasn't heard him. There's something of a struggle when she gets to his pants, but then she places his clothes on top of her bathrobe. Soon they are walking hand in hand out into the cold surf, Spades with soap and a washrag in one hand, Penelope with the shampoo.)
Spades: (When they have walked in waist deep.) Aaaii! I don't think this is such a good idea.
Penelope: (Shivering.) Bracing, isn't it?
(Inside the cottage, Squirrel awakes from a terrible dream in which Nightmare and his storm troopers have attacked unexpectedly, capturing Tavy and dragging her away to the orchard. Looking around the room, Squirrel notices that Spades and Penelope are gone. A few minutes later, when Tavy awakens, she opens the door to let Squirrel out, gets dressed, and goes to see what's happening outside. Even before she reaches the dune where Squirrel is sitting with his little telescope, she can hear Penelope's distant laughter amid the roar of the surf.)
Squirrel: (Scratching between his ears.) I don't believe it.
Tavy: What?
Squirrel: They have nothing on, and she's shampooing his hair.
Tavy: I usually go to the lagoon. It offers some protection and privacy.
Squirrel: (At first too astonished by her complacency to reply.) The lagoon?
Tavy: (Points.) That way, through the trees. There's a hot spring and fresh water. (She folds her arms in an expression of discomfort.) The bay's cold.
(They watch as Penelope pushes Spades' soapy head under water. He comes up spluttering. Penelope screams. He grabs her and pushes her under. When she comes up, she brushes water out of her eyes and hands him the shampoo.
Squirrel: (Watching through his little telescope, sighs.) It's like being on M*A*S*H.
Tavy: Something's wrong, isn't it?
Squirrel: (Glancing at her inquisitively.) What do you mean?
Tavy: (Looking away.) It isn't my place to say, but I can tell you're uhm, well, very disturbed about something, and that it has to do with my father. I pick up on things like that.
Squirrel: (Lowering his telescope.) Why did the storm troopers come for your father? You know, don't you?
Tavy: (Hesitating, afraid.) Do squirrels drink coffee?
Squirrel: In this world they do.
Tavy: I'll get us both some. (She walks away toward the cottage.)
(Squirrel turns and looks through his telescope. Penelope has rinsed her hair and is putting her arms around Spades, who doesn't seem to be resisting. Amid the foam of the breakers, the shampoo bottle is floating toward the beach. Squirrel shakes his head, puts away his multi-purpose pen, and goes to the cottage, glancing warily among the dunes.)
Good luck with your paper that's due tomorrow!
Good Lord, Alex! What are you doing in the hospital?
This is M's wife. Alex I hope you get to feeling better soon.
Whatever's going on with you, take care of yourself! Otherwise, what's going to happen to Squirrel and Penelope?
Hi, Alex! I had planned to write my Popcorn Served installment this morning, but I let myself get distracted by Goodreads. Of all my writing projects, Popcorn Served is the one I'm currently enjoying the most. It has priority for tomorrow morning!I hope you're feeling better. Those stomach bugs can be quite a nuisance, can't they?
(Tavy is sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed. Squirrel is sitting on the hearth. He takes a sip from a very small glass, then quickly puts it down.)Tavy: It shouldn't take it long to cool off.
Squirrel: If anyone had ever told me that someday I'd be a squirrel drinking coffee out of a shot glass, I'd have have demoted him on the spot to a private.
Tavy: (After a silence.) You worked for Nightmare.
(Squirrel nods.)
Tavy: Do you still?
Squirrel: Yes. (Considers his response.) Well, as far as Red and Nightmare are concerned, I do.
Tavy: Were you sent to find me?
Squirrel: (Shaking his head.) No that's just something that happened.
Tavy: You were spying on Spades and Penelope?
Squirrel: (Grunts.) In my line of business, you spy on everyone who isn't Nightmare. (Smirks at the remembrance.) Actually, as I remember, I was keeping an eye on Al and Trevor. Trevor was scared of his own shadow. (Growing thoughtful.) The mistress of this realm far underestimates Nightmare and his accomplices, I'm afraid.
Tavy: Perhaps that's because not all of the characters involved are Al's invention.
Squirrel: (Bluntly.) Are my answers congruent with the readings you're getting from me?
Tavy: (Smiling.) So far. I can tell you're not lying, if that's what you mean. What do you know about Moira?
Squirrel: Your stepmother. (A little nervously, his expression darkening.) I've gotten a glimpse of her only once. (Looks away.) She's a tough customer.
Tavy: You think she's the reason the storm troopers came?
Squirrel: (Nods.) Yeah.
Tavy: Does she want me dead?
Squirrel: (Arches an eyebrow). Sure she does! (He tilts his head in disbelief.) Don't you know who you are?
Tavy: Octavia Waring.
(Squirrel seems to flinch, as though he were about to be struck.)
Tavy: Why would that name mean anything to you?
Squirrel: You were named after your great-grandmother.
Tavy: How do you know that?
Squirrel: It's my business to know a lot of things. She was one of the most feared and powerful witches in Europe.
Tavy: (Looking at him with amusement.) I never heard that!
Squirrel: It wasn't commonly known, and I'm sure your father wouldn't have wanted you to know it. Octavia Trevelyan was a very kind woman who practiced witchcraft primarily as an art of healing, but when it came to dealing with evildoers, she could be far more ruthless and deadly than they were. She was feared by evil people like Nightmare, and hasn't been forgotten.
Tavy: I guess Moira told them who I am.
Squirrel: Nightmare wasn't happy when the storm troopers came back empty-handed.
Tavy: (Leaning forward.) What do you mean?
Squirrel: I think they were supposed to bring you and your father back to be dealt with.
Tavy: Then why did they have him killed in the orchard?
Squirrel: Something went wrong. Someone interfered. I don't know. I wasn't told. I was involved in other things. (Takes another sip of his coffee.) You know, in the service, they called this stuff battery acid, and it tasted like it. (He glanced at her appreciatively.) You make good coffee.
Tavy: Tell me about Nightmare.
Squirrel: (Sighs.) He was one of Amanda's characters.
Tavy: What was he like?
Squirrel: (Shrugs.) Malicious but not entirely unlikeable. All too willing to be brutal, but not incapable of love, either. (Squirrel chuckles, lost in reflection.) One time, he threw Red down on the bed and didn't even wait until everyone else left. (Realizing where he is and who he's talking to, he halts, clearly embarrassed.)
Tavy: What happened to him?
Squirrel: What do you mean?
Tavy: Why is he after me? What business am I of his?
Squirrel: (Perplexed.) I don't know. This is a different kind of story. He, uhm, well, Amanda isn't around to tell him what to say anymore or how to be, and he's turned into something far more evil, not to mention more deadly. Even his associates are terrified of him.
(There is the sound of Spades and Penelope approaching. Spades comes in, clad in his usual clothes, which need very badly to be pressed.)
Spades: (Looking around the room.) Penelope sent me in to fetch her clothes.
(Tavy points. Draped over a chair are a skirt, blouse, sweater, and motoring coat. Spades goes sheepishly and picks them up.)
Squirrel: Don't forget the boots and panties! (He bursts into squirrel laughter and rolls around on the throw pillow before the fire, his tail swishing.)
Spades: (His face flushed, he glances at squirrel, then notices the cup of coffee in Tavy's hand.) Has he been drinking coffee out of that shot glass?
(Tavy nods, amused. Squirrel hides his face in his paws.)
Spades: Is there any more coffee left? I nearly froze out there!
(The door opens and Penelope sticks her curly head in.)
Penelope: Will you quit yapping and hurry up?
Squirrel: (Leaps to his feet.) She's ordering him around! (Looks at Spades.) Did you get married while you were out there?
(Tavy gets up to put another pot of coffee on the stove. Spades hands clothes out to Penelope, who grabs him by the arm and pulls him out the door.)
Tavy: (Pumping water and rinsing the pot.) What do you expect to find in the orchard?
Squirrel: (His expression sobering.) I wish I could tell you. Other than the obvious, I mean.
Tavy: The ballintoick.
Squirrel: (Finishing his coffee.) If everything goes right, we'll get the orchard creature to tell us what we want to know.
(Spades, Penelope, Squirrel, and Tavy are sitting around the coffeetable in the cottage.)Spades: It isn't as though we can make an early start. It's always 5:17 p.m. here.
Squirrel: We have to have a way of locating the ballintoick once we get there.
Tavy: I should be able to do that. I can pick up on anything living that seems out of place, that's not what it's supposed to be. The only problem is . . . (She gazes out the window.)
Penelope: What?
Tavy: (Sighs.) It's not a small place. It took me hours to find my way out of there after . . .
Spades: Okay, let's suppose you indicate that it's an apple. What do we do?
Penelope: I'll give a little shock. Maybe it'll change form.
Squirrel: (Snorts.) Yeah, but into what?
Tavy: I may be able to help with that, to the extent that I can control its mind if it's disoriented, unaware that I'm doing it. What form do you want?
Spades: I think the best scenario would be for it to turn into a person, don't you? (Taking a sip of coffee, he looks around at the others.)
Penelope: (Nodding.) Then I could put him in a neural lock, and Tavy and I could try to read his mind.
Squirrel: (Fidgeting.) If somebody came into my orchard and did those things to me, I probably wouldn't be very happy about it.
Tavy: (Angrily.) That creature devoured my father. (With cold fury in her eyes.) I'd like to kill it.
Penelope: (Looking at Tavy earnestly.) I don't know that we can, honey.
Spades: We can try.
Squirrel: (Gives a high-pitched laugh.) Yeah, it's what's going to happen if we try and don't succeed that's bothering me. (He picks up the shot glass.)
Tavy: (Shakes her head.) It can't come after us. It's confined to the orchard.
Penelope: (After a moment's hesitation.) Tell me about your father, Tavy? What did he do for a living?
Tavy: He was a chemist, by profession.
Spades: (Pointing.) What are those strange books that are on the shelves?
Tavy: (Laughs.) I don't think I've heard Keats or Shakespeare referred to as strange before.
Penelope: I don't think those are the books he was talking about.
Tavy: (Considering how much to divulge.) His real interest was in alchemy.
Squirrel: Turning lead into gold? (Takes a sip of coffee.)
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) Most people think that's what alchemists were trying to do. Alchemy isn't really about that at all. It's a psychological transformation, a synthesis of opposites within oneself.
Penelope: What's the purpose of it.
Tavy: (Shrugs.) To become whole. Remember the injunction of St. Luke: Be thou whole?
Spades: Was your father religious?
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) No. It has nothing to with religion, not as people usually think of it, anyway.
Squirrel: So, it was just an eccentric interest of his. (He sets down the shot glass.)
Tavy: (Incredulously.) Oh, no. It's ultimately the only way to defeat evil. Evil doesn't just exist, as a thing in itself, any more than good does. Good and evil are the result of a division of the whole, a fragmenting, a polarization. You can't have one without the other.
Squirrel: All of that's mumbo-jumbo to me.
Tavy: Surely you've noticed that the brighter the sun is, the darker the shadows are, that when it's cloudy and the light's diffuse, the shadows disappear.
Penelope: So evil grows in proportion to good?
Tavy: And the other way around. They both come into being because some center has stopped holding. You can't wear a white hat if there isn't someone to wear a black one.
Squirrel: Right now, Nightmare's wearing the blackest hat of all.
Tavy: (Smiles.) Didn't you say that Nightmare's hat wasn't always so dark?
Squirrel: (Looking at Tavy with new respect.) I believe I did say something like that, young lady.
Spades: (Puzzled.) Who's wearing the white hat, then? Is it us?
Penelope: Maybe that's one of the things we have to find out.
Tavy: My father was working to undermine the division.
Spades: Which would have threatened the growing power of evil.
Squirrel: (Raising his eyebrows.) And of good, if I understand correctly.
Tavy: That's right.
Penelope: Then good is just as undesirable as evil?
Tavy: (Nodding.) Yes. Like evil, it's two dimensional, inhuman, knows only its own ends.
Squirrel: (Stretching, arching his back.) Well, I've had all the philosophy my little brain can hold.
Spades: Got a taste for apples? (He stands up.)
(Squirrel checks his pen. Penelope laces her boots. The four make their way to the beach, which is deserted except for Ursula, who has finished another fish. Seeing them, the bear trots toward them. As inconspicuously as he can, Squirrel asks Spades for a ride on his shoulder, and Spades drops to one knee so that Squirrel can climb up. Penelope scans the horizon. Miles away across the water, the shores of Orchard Bay can be stretching seaward, like low shadows.)
Tavy: Hi, Ursula!
(Tavy pets the bear, who nuzzles her hand, sniffing for berries. Wandering down the beach, the four head back through the dunes.)
Spades: Did anyone think to bring snacks?
Penelope: I swear, all you and Squirrel think about is food!
Squirrel: (Smirks.) Maybe we'll bring back a nice Thanksgiving toicky.
Penelope: Are you making fun of the way people talk in New Jersey?
Squirrel: How do you put up with her? You know what I think? I think when tied her to the tracks, they knew the mail train was coming!
(Spades dodges as Penelope takes a swipe at Squirrel, who ducks. Tavy shakes her head, petting the bear, who is tagging along. Before them, as they emerge from the dunes, is the long vista of the valley and its misty dell.)
You come up with memorable names: Dims Hall, Hadley Manor, Eve Madora. I especially like Dims Hall. It's amazing how fast you write these installments, and the last few have been as good as something from a novel. Who is Gershwin?
Alex, the characters got to yacking, so I didn't get as far as I had hoped.(Soon Penelope, Spades, and the others have walked far enough that they can no longer hear the surf. The knee-high grass is dewy. Immediately to the right rise steep hills, and in the distance, beyond the far end of the valley, are foothills and snow-capped mountains. Dotting the valley floor are are ancient oaks.)
Squirrel: I hope the orchard isn't on the other side of those mountains.
Spades: Me, too. I don't see any Golden Arches glowing in the distance.
Tavy: Those are the Druid Mountains, part of the Great Northeastern Range. That high, snow-capped one with the sun on it is Crone's Peak.
Penelope: Where's the orchard?
Tavy: In a hollow beyond that promontory that's ahead on the right. (She points.) When we get to the Sleepy Oak, we'll take the trail.
Squirrel: The Sleepy Oak?
(Tavy indicates an enormous oak whose gargantuan lower limbs touch the ground.)
Spades: That tree looks way too familiar.
Squirrel: I think that I shall never see a tree as lovely as a bacon cheeseburger.
Penelope: What is this, the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show?
Tavy: Supposedly, the tree is so old that its roots go into other dimensions. If you fall asleep under it, you may awaken and find yourself somewhere else. (She laughs.) At least, that's what they say.
(Penelope, Spades, and Squirrel all exchange meaningful glances.)
Penelope: Where did you hear something like that, Tavy?
Tavy: From people who live here.
Squirrel: There are people here?
Tavy: (A little defensively.) Yes. A few.
Penelope: How? I mean, how do they find a way to live?
Tavy: Some make their living fishing, some hunting.
Spades: So you've met some of them.
Tavy: Certainly. Dad's a--was a natural folklorist.
Spades: Why haven't we seen any of them?
Tavy: (Shrugs.) They remain hidden, as we did. Their houses are tucked away in places where they can't easily be seen.
Squirrel: Why haven't we seen any smoke?
Tavy: Oh, they're careful with their fires when they have a sense that trouble's about. They know storm troopers have been here, and I'm sure someone saw the pirate ship anchored in the bay. I mean, there haven't been pirate ships here since the eighteenth century! (She seems reticent to say any more.)
Penelope: You don't want us to know about them, do you, the people who live here?
Tavy: (After a silence.) They've been very kind to me and Dad.
(As they walk, they seem to get more and more drowsy. Squirrel falls off Spades' shoulder, screams as he awakens while falling, but manages to hit the ground on all fours. He looks up stupidly at Spades, who kneels so Squirrel can climb up again. Then Spades has trouble standing up.)
Penelope: I don't know what's wrong with me.
Tavy: This is a field of enchantment. Few persons traverse it. That's why there are trails through the hills. (She gestures to the steep, wooded hills on their right.)
Spades: (Scanning the broad valley.) What's out there?
Tavy: A ways on there's the marsh creek, which comes out of the hollow. It runs across the valley and into the marshes. (She points ahead and to the left.) They call them the Cattail Marshes.
Squirrel: Have you seen them.
Tavy: Oh, yes. They're beautiful. Very dangerous, though.
(At length they come to the gnarled oak where where Spades, Penelope, and Squirrel had fallen asleep and been transported inadvertently to Frank Putnam's laboratory.)
Tavy: This is where we follow the trail.
Penelope: (Stopping under the gnarled, mossy tree.) Honey, I don't think I can make it any farther.
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) Believe me, you don't want to go to Dims Hall.
Penelope: (Her eyelids heavy.) What?
Tavy: That's where Al is right now, and if we fall asleep under the oak, that's where we'll wind up.
(Penelope regards her curiously, as though about to ask a question, but her thoughts are too hazy to formulate one.)
Tavy: (Motioning.) Just follow me. (She takes a few steps up the hill and looks back at them.) Please.
(Reluctantly, they follow Tavy up a trail they had failed to notice when they had been there before. As they go along, their drowsiness falls away and their minds begin to clear. Nearing the top of the hill, they reach a fork in the trail.)
Tavy: (Pointing.) The ruins of the castle are that way.
(They stop walking momentarily, looking up the trail through cedars and tall hemlocks.)
Squirrel: I think you mentioned a castle.
Tavy: It's called Saddern Moat.
Penelope: Why is it ruined?
Tavy: Everyone left.
Spade: You mean it wasn't sacked?
Tavy: Because of that place, the people here live in mortal dread of vampires.
Squirrel: (Shaking his head and scratching his ears.) You must be talking baseball. Did you mean umpires?
Housewife: (Unkempt, dressed in a scroungy robe, bags under her eyes.) I just couldn't get to sleep, no matter what I tried. (Scene swipes. She's now smartly dressed, her hair done, eyes bright.) Then my doctor prescribed Snoxoril. I went right to sleep and woke up three days later, completely refreshed!Emcee: Take only as prescribed. Some side effects have been noted.
(Squirrel is rolling on the ground, laughing.)
Tavy: Can you imagine the nerve of that guy? That's when I just glared at him told him to haul his sorry a---- . . .
Penelope: (Startled, looks up.) Are we on?
Prompter: Thirty seconds.
(Squirrel, seeing the camera light, wipes his eyes quickly and climbs back up on Spades' shoulder. A make-up artist applies a last touch to Penelope's forehead. A stylist hurriedly finishes arranging strands of Tavy's hair.)
Director: Roll it!
(They proceed up a trail that winds amid the autumn foliage of knobby oaks, towering larches, and dismal hemlocks.)
Spades: Have you ever seen it?
Tavy: Dad and I hiked up there once, but we took precautions.
Penelope: What precautions?
Tavy: (Shrugs.) Dad kept a supply of petroleum balls. You unwrap them, light them, throw them. They're jelly-like, about the size of a golf ball, and have a stub fuse.
Spades: Ah, a fireball, without magic!
Tavy: (Smiles.) It's amazing what you can do with a knowledge of chemistry!
Squirrel: What else did you use?
Tavy: We wore crosses, of course. (Pulling on a woven silver chain that's around her neck, she draws up from inside her shirt an intricately carved Celtic cross.)
Penelope: I've never noticed that.
Tavy: I wear it at all times. (She lets the cross carefully back down.) It's always late in the day here, so vampires can wander without fear of the sun, as long as they stay in the shadows.
Spades: Why haven't we seen any?
Tavy: There's not much for them to feed on around here. They can't cross the marsh creek, which divides the valley, so to get here, they have to take the long way around, over these hills or around the marsh.
Penelope: Why can't they cross the creek?
Squirrel: Because of the running water.
Tavy: Uhm hmm. And they don't venture out onto the beach for the same reason. They're terrified of the surf, of all that moving water. (She smiles, glancing up the trail.) They're afraid of bears, too.
Squirrels: (Looking gratefully at Ursula, who has trotted ahead.) I'm glad of that.
(After following the trail along the crest of a hill, trudging through fallen leaves, they come to a place where the path divides. Through the trees, they see a strange glow ahead. To the left a trail follows another ridge.)
Spades: That must go out along the promontory.
Tavy: (Nods.) The trail to the right leads to a small waterfall in the hills, and also to the castle.
Penelope: What's that light we see?
Tavy: It's from the orchard. (She glances behind them. A few hundred yards back along the trail, the bear has found some berries.) Come on, Ursula!
(They follow the trail down the slope, and through a break in the foliage they get a glimpse of the orchard, which is vast and overgrown, its leaves yellow and crimson and bathed in amber sunlight).
Spades: Why is it sunlit?
Tavy: It has an enchantment on it because of the creature that lives there.
Penelope: The ballintoik.
Squirrel: It has a high, masonry wall around it.
Penelope: But it looks as though it's broken in places.
(After a long descent, they find themselves at a broad, rocky creek. Tavy leads them upstream to a footbridge of stone slabs. Outside the orchard wall, the hollow is steeped in the gloom of late evening. Making their way through brush, they arrive at the enclosure and follow it until, in high grass, they come to the entrance, a massive, wooden gate, one of the doors of which stands ajar.)
Tavy: Whatever the ballintoik is, it's right inside.
(Through the opening, everything inside the inclosure looks warm in the sunlight. There is a sound of something behind the gate, moving in the high grass. Penelope readies herself to stun it. Spades is prepared to summon a fireball on a moment's notice. Tavy gasps. Around the gate appears a very dignified looking man.)
Tavy: (Staring, tears in her eyes.) Dad?
Sorry, Alex! I didn't mean to make it confusing. I thought it might be interesting to throw in an advertisement and show the characters behind the scenes, off camera.
Penelope: That isn't your father.(Before them stands a man who appears to be in his early forties, is slightly built but ruggedly handsome, and is graying at the temples. Raising her hand, Penelope stuns him lightly. He falls to the ground, as though in a swoon. Looking on in horror, Tavy gasps and runs to him.)
Tavy: Dad! (She kneels over him. Soon her expression changes. Confused, she looks up at Penelope, who approaches.) It isn't my father.
(Penelope kneels, facing Tavy across the prone figure, and holds her palm a few inches above the forehead of the creature that looks like Dr. Burton Waring. She holds her other hand out and clasps hands with Tavy, who closes her eyes.)
Penelope: I don't sense any malevolence at all.
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) No, it's just here to protect this place.
Spades: Then why did it kill Tavy's father?
Penelope: I don't think it did intentionally. It doesn't have the same sort of mind we do, so I'm slow getting memories in the form of sequential images.
Tavy: The creature had turned into something, as a response to the threat.
Penelope: (Her eyes closing.) It had heard them coming and had locked the gate. The storm troopers broke the gate in.
Tavy: (Nods.) That's why it's standing open. The gate is usually kept closed.
Penelope: It had read their thoughts and had turned into what, collectively, they feared most.
Squirrel: What was that?
Penelope: A huge, black lizard with dagger-like teeth and claws and a terrifying collar that flared red behind its head, pulsating, menacing.
Tavy: They dragged my poor father in there. I crept in behind them, hidden in the high grass, and climbed up into one of the apple trees. (A tear runs down her cheek.)
Penelope: They had flame throwers. That's how they kept the creature back. And they just . . . threw Tavy's father to it, as though he were a piece of meat.
Tavy: I thought it had eaten my father, but I see now that it didn't. It merely tried to drag him out of the way. All the while, it was roaring and putting up a front.
Spades: What happened then?
Penelope: The creature attacked the storm troopers, who fled back through the gate.
Tavy: But he got burned pretty badly when they turned their flame throwers on him. And the storm troopers set the grass on fire.
Penelope: The ballintoik knew you were here.
Tavy: Yes, I see that. But as the Nightmare's evil henchmen ran, it was was kept busy stomping out fires. He couln't risk their spreading.
Squirrel: It's first duty is to the orchard.
Tavy: Then it went to see about my father, but he was . . . he was gone. (Realization dawning on her, suddenly Tavy's face is streaming with tears and she begins crying aloud. She lays her head on the ballintoik's chest and cries unconsolably.)
Penelope: (Looking up at Spades and Squirrel, her eyes read with tears.) He didn't kill Tavy's father.
Spades: What happened to him, then? Where is he?
Penelope: (Shaking her head slowly.) I don't know. When the creature searched for him, he was gone. The ballintoik knows what's in this orchard. Burton Waring was no longer in it.
Squirrel: Magically transported somewhere?
(Penelope shrugs. She gets up and goes over to Tavy and puts her arms around her.)
Spades: (Indicating the creature.) When will that thing come around?
Penelope: (Helping Tavy to her feet.) Any time. I stunned him just enough to knock him out briefly.
Squirrel: What? (In a high, terrified voice.) Why didn't you pull a Frank Putnam on him? (He points, his tail flicking.) That thing could change forms all of a sudden and eat us all!
Spades: Calm down, Squirrel.
(The ballintoik opens its eyes, squints in pain, looks about, and rubs its head.)
Penelope: You're going to have a headache, I'm afraid.
Tavy: (Glancing away miserably.) I wish it would quit looking like my father.
(The creature changes forms to a young man in a baggy white shirt, trousers, and French cap, with black ink smudges all over him.)
Penelope: (Her eyes wide.) Jinks!
Spades: Who's Jinks?
Penelope: The printer's devil in one the films I was in. (She smiles, gazing down at it.) I had forgotten how adorable you are.
(The ballintoik grins. Spades frowns.)
Tavy: I don't think it intends to hurt us.
Squirrel: I'm not as sure of that as you are. The immortally beautiful one put him here for a reason.
Jinks: (With a wincing glance.) I'm sorry about your father, Tavy.
(The creature attempts to get up but can't. Hesitantly, Tavy approaches him and helps him to his feet. Penelope, ready to stun the creature instantly should it make a wrong move, gazes at Jinks with obvious adoration. Spades watches sullenly.)
Jinks: Thank you, Tavy. (He looks at Penelope.) My head didn't hurt this bad when Mrs. Paine hit me over the head with a frying pan.
Penelope: (Laughing in spite of herself.) I'm sorry, Jinks. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.
Squirrel: A frying pan?
Penelope: Uhm. (Turning to Spades.) It was in Trixie Starts a Revolution. In the story, Trixie is Thomas Paine's young, indentured servant, with whom, unbeknownst to his wife, he's been sleeping, of course.
Spades: (Darkly.) Of course.
Penelope: Paine has a printing press in his basement, and it turns out that Trixie has been writing these pamphlets that are stirring up the colonists, and that Paine later gets credit for. Well, the printer, Mr. Lymes, has an assistant, Jinks, whom Trixie is sleeping with as well.
Squirrel: Of course.
Spades: (Exasperated, crosses his arms.) The movie should have been called Trixie Does Colonial America.
Penelope: (Shrugs.) I didn't write the script.
Squirrel: (To the ballintoik.) So, you don't know what happened to Professor Waring?
Jinks: (Shakes his head.) No. He had simply disappeared.
Squirrel: (Pointedly.) Was he dead when he disappeared?
(Jinks glances questioningly at Penelope.)
Tavy: (After a few moments of silence.) I'm willing to gamble that Squirrel's on our side.
Penelope: Spades?
Spades: I don't trust anyone.
Tavy: (To Jinks.) Nothing needs to be said. I can read your mind, and so can Penelope.
(Sniffing the grass, Ursula comes in through the gate. A bee buzzes around her nose.)Jinks: (Looking at his visitors.) You must be hungry after your long walk over here.
(Penelope nods emphatically.)
Squirrel: I could do with a Porterhouse steak, medium rare, and a baked potato.
Spades: I'll have mine well done, charred on the inside, and a martini to start with.
Tavy: (Absently, her mind on the fate of her father.) Hungry? I am.
Jinks: I don't have steaks, I regret to say, but feel free to climb trees and pick apples. Whatever's left hanging is probably ripe. Watch for snakes in the high grass.
(The bear noses around in the grass, then raises her head, chomping on something that makes her foam at the mouth.)
Tavy: (Concerned.) What's going on with Ursula?
Jinks: Oh, the ground is covered with fallen apples, most of them rotting and fermenting.
Tavy: Ursula! Stop that! You're going to give yourself a stomach ache.
(The bear ambles over to Tavy, who pets her.)
Spades: What's the big structure in the center of the orchard?
Jinks: (Shrugs.) I don't know. I think it must have been a place where they made wine. It's very dilapidated.
(They wander through the brown grass, which is warm in the mellow sunlight. Tavy climbs easily up into a tree. Squirrel goes up to the high limbs and drops several apples as Penelope gives him directions.)
Penelope: That one! Yes, that's a fine one. (She catches it and bites into it.) Uuhmm. This is delicious! (She smiles at Spades.)
(Watching Penelope, Spades seems lost in thought. Squirrel bites through a stem, and the falling apple hits Spades on the head.)
Spades: (Staggering backward and putting his hand on his head.) Ow!
(Penelope approaches to Spades.)
Penelope: Aw, baby, are you all right?
(Spades glares up at Squirrel, who shrugs, then starts chattering squirrel laughter. Penelope runs her fingers through Spades' hair.)
Penelope: Ooh, you're going to have a knot, I'm afraid.
Spades: Ow!
Penelope: Now, just hold still! (She moves up close.) Want me to kiss it and make it better?
(Watching with amusement, Tavy sits on a huge, low branch, biting into an apple. Squirrel comes down the tree. Hesitant to venture into the high grass, he at last stretches out on a limb not far from Tavy. Jinks has climbed into a nearby tree and is eating an apple.)
Jinks: These are good! You know, I live here all the time but never eat the apples. (Reaching up and picking one, he tosses it across to Tavy, who catches it and gives it to Squirrel.)
Squirrel: Much obliged, Milady.
(There's a rustling of the grass from deep in the orchard. Everyone looks that way.)
Jinks: (To Spades and Penelope.) Best get up a tree.
Squirrel: What is it?
Jinks: Wild boars, probably. They get in through breaks in the wall. The smell of the rotting apples brings them sometimes.
Tavy: Come on, Ursula! Come on, girl!
Squirrel: What are you doing?
Tavy: Bears can climb trees.
Squirrel: (His voice noticeably higher and more nervous.) Are you nuts? (Dropping what's left of his apple, he runs along the limb, then scampers up the tree into the high branches. Tavy climbs higher, calling to Ursula. The sound in the grass gets closer, and soon the sound of the grunting boars can be heard. Spades is helping Penelope up into a tree.)
Penelope: (Reaching upward.) I can't seem to get a good hold.
(Spades pushes up on her rear end.)
Penelope: Hey!
Spades: Look, there's a bunch of hogs coming this way, and I'd rather not be standing on the ground when they get here.
(Penelope grabs a limb and pulls herself up. Making a leap, Spades quickly follows. Ursula climbs up into the massive tree that holds Squirrel and Tavy. She settles on the big, bottom limb, about seven feet above ground.)
Spades: Jinks, what do you do when the boars show up and you're not expecting them?
Jinks: That's no problem. Most of the time, I'm an apple. Sometimes I'm a stone in the wall or a blade of grass. (He chuckles.) Now and again my creator bestows upon my lonely existence the glory of a visit, and sometimes she brings someone with her. Not long ago, she arrived with, well, let's just say, some pirates.
(The grass parts and three large, black boars run beneath them, snorting, grunting, rooting here and there. Then they head out haphazardly out through the gate, which stands ajar.)
Spades: I'll bet those boars would be good eating if they were put on a spit and turned over a fire.
Squirrel: (From his high perch.) You know they would. It makes me hungry just thinking about it.
Penelope: Jinks, was one of those pirates named Mossers?
Jinks: How did you know about that?
Spades: We had the good fortune to run across that crew recently. Todd Buxton, Mossers, Erica, and Charlie.
Jinks: When they were here, I turned into a piece of grass. Charlie stuck me in his mouth. (He grimaces.) Try to imagine a more unpleasant experience than that.
Tavy: You can climb down now, Ursula.
(The bear grabs hold of the tree trunk and awkwardly climbs backward down into the high grass.)
Penelope: The boars have headed into the woods, following the creek.
Jinks: Where will you go from here?
Tavy: Back to the cottage. (She smiles at Jinks.) I wish you could come with us.
Jinks: So do I. Oh, how I would love to walk on the beach!
(Jinks climbs down into the grass, then goes over and helps Tavy down. Spades climbs down, then tries to help Penelope, who loses her handhold. Spades stumbles backwards, Penelope sitting on his shoulders. Penelope screams, and they fall over into the high grass.)
Squirrel: (Coming down the tree, watching them.) You know, when we have to go back to whatever stories we came from, those two are going to miss each other something awful.
Jinks: (Smiling.) She's a pistol, isn't she?
Spades: (Getting to his feet in the high grass and extending a hand to Penelope.) I never knew hogs were dangerous.Jinks: They're generally not, in your world. Things are different here.
Penelope: Does it ever get dark in the orchard?
Jinks: (Shakes his head.) It's always just like this, except that the seasons change, sometimes unpredictably.
Tavy: What about vampires?
Jinks: They avoid this place because of the sunshine. A vampire foolish enough to trespass in the orchard bursts into flames within a few seconds.
Penelope: So, this is the place to come if you're being chased by one of them.
Jinks: (Nods, looking at them kindly.) I hope you'll feel free to come here anytime you want.
Squirrel: (Flicking his tail.) Uhm, Spades, if you don't mind.
(Spades walks over to the tree where Squirrel remains waiting above the line of the grass. Squirrel climbs onto his shoulder.)
Jinks: (Smirks.) You look like Long John Silver, but with a squirrel instead of a parrot.
Spades: Oh, he can out-talk a parrot any day. He can't fly, though.
Tavy: (Laughs merrily.) Alex thinks he can! She saw him flying over the ocean.
(Squirrel makes a face.)
Spades: He was the first squirrel to cross the Atlantic non-stop, and without a boat or a plane.
Squirrel: I nearly froze! My teeth were chattering so by the time I got there, I could hardly talk.
Penelope: They're all mixed up, Jinks. At first we thought Al was English, that she lived over there on the coast somewhere. That's how we wound up here. This is obviously English countryside, an English coast.
Jinks: (Laughing.) As spunky as she is? Her straightforward style of writing should have been a dead giveaway.
Penelope: Jinks! You don't really think . . .
Jinks: Now, Nel, it's not nice to read people's minds.
Tavy: (Her eyes getting wide.) Nancy Drew? Come on!
Jinks: I'm not at leisure to divulge anything, other than that, in the early volumes, Nancy Drew lived in the Middle West.
Penelope: (Arching an eyebrow.) But Nancy Drew has blonde hair.
Tavy: In the later volumes it was reddish-blonde, titian.
Spades: So she dyed her hair dark brown and hangs out with pirates now? I thought Nancy Drew had blue eyes.
Penelope: I have blue eyes, baby. (She bats her eyes at Spades.)
Spades: (Screwing his eyes shut and rubbing them.) You expect me to believe that Alex is Mona Lisa and Czar Nicholas's wife and Nancy Drew all rolled up into one?
Jinks: (Shrugs.) I would suggest merely that there's a bit of Nancy Drew in the mistress of our realm. (He sighs.) Why else do you think she's always in dangerous situations?
Squirrel: Where is she now?
Jinks: The last I knew, she had gone to Dims Hall with Sir Rhapsody in Blue. I must be honest--I don't have a good feeling about it. Some bad characters frequent that place. (He points.) You should be careful in the woods. Remember the Colonel's daughter.
Tavy: Where's Ursula? (She glances around.) Ursula!
(Nearby, the bear is rolling in the warm grass, her mouth frothing from the fermenting apples she's been eating.)
Tavy: Silly bear!
Jinks: I'm sorry about your father, Tavy.
(Tavy goes to Jinks and gives him a hug.)
Tavy: I'm glad the storm troopers didn't wreck your orchard.
Jinks: (His expression clouding.) I wish I could tell you none of them had gotten out of here alive.
(Tavy heads slowly toward the gate. She motions to the bear, which gets to its feet, sneezes, and follows Tavy. Spades shakes hands with Jinks.)
Spades: Thanks for the hospitality!
Penelope: I'll miss you, Jinks! (She hugs him.)
Jinks: Colonel Monmouth's daughter is still wandering the woods, and there are others.
Penelope: Have you ever seen her?
Jinks: (Nods.) Sometimes they come near the enclosure, beautiful and cold as death. They can't cross the marsh creek because of the running water.
(Leaving the perpetual early afternoon of the orchard, Spades, Squirrel, Penelope, and Tavy go out the gate into the cool and gloomy shadows of the hollow, Ursula following erratically. Jinks stands in the gate and watches them make their way along the overgrown trail to the stone bridge. Looking back they wave.)
That was sheer awesomeness, M.
*yikes* I am going to attempt lol
me: *sings* I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky, I could be....
Geoffrey: Seriously, Dawn?
me: Yeah. I like colors.
Geoffrey: you didn't even write that song. Grace Kelly did.
me: No, Micheal Pennibrooke Jr. wrote it.
Geoffrey: And you expect me to believe that.
me: Yeah.
Geoffrey: Who is this Micheal Pemmican dude anyways?
me: He's amazing. That's all.
Geoffrey: *sighs* I don't know why I hang out with you, honestly...
Me: Cause I'm cute!!!!! *sings* I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like...
Geoffrey: *Gets up and walks away*
*yikes* I am going to attempt lol
me: *sings* I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky, I could be....
Geoffrey: Seriously, Dawn?
me: Yeah. I like colors.
Geoffrey: you didn't even write that song. Grace Kelly did.
me: No, Micheal Pennibrooke Jr. wrote it.
Geoffrey: And you expect me to believe that.
me: Yeah.
Geoffrey: Who is this Micheal Pemmican dude anyways?
me: He's amazing. That's all.
Geoffrey: *sighs* I don't know why I hang out with you, honestly...
Me: Cause I'm cute!!!!! *sings* I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like...
Geoffrey: *Gets up and walks away*
Tavy: (Waving at Jinks.) Look how bright the orchard is compared to the deep shadow of the hollow! (She shivers.) Come on, Ursula!(The bear catches up with Tavy, who pets her. Soon they reach the stone slabs that make a footbridge across the clear, burbling creek.)
Penelope: (Glancing at Spades.) I just felt a wave of cold go through me.
Squirrel: (Nervously.) Let's get across the creek.
(Tavy has stopped and is scratching the bear behind the ears.)
Spades: Tavy, stop petting the bear. Get across the bridge!
(Tavy looks up, taken aback by Spades' tone of voice. Suddenly she feels cold. Standing in the brush, watching them, are three girls with long, straight hair, who look to be in their late teens. Their faces are pale, their eyes bloodstreaked, their antique clothing torn. Penelope takes a few uncertain steps toward the bridge, as though fighting confusion.)
Squirrel: We'd better act fast. They have some sort of hypnotic power.
Spades: (To Squirrel.) What do you think? A fireball would cause this whole dry valley to go up in flames.
(Tavy crosses the bridge, Ursula and Penelope behind her. The vampire girls advance. One of them has honey-colored hair, another brownish-red, the third dark brown. Spades finds himself thinking how beautiful they are, how slender their bodies, how terrifyingly empty of expression their waxy faces.)
Squirrel: (Pulling his trusty Parker pen from its sheath and converting it into a miniature flame thrower.) Let's not use fire unless we have to.
(Backing toward the low bridge, Spades raises his hand.)
Spades: Wheel of fire, turn, turn! (In his hand appears a ball of fire, too brilliant to took at, spinning like a little planet. It illuminates the landscape around them as though the sun has come out. Cringing, hissing, the girls turn and flee in terror into the brush. Spades closes his hand and the fireball goes out.)
Squirrel: Lucky for us you were a first-level magic user in whatever story you came from.
Spades: (Heading unsteadily for the bridge.) I think I'll be glad when I get back to the beach and have a glass of scotch in my hand.
(After Spades and Squirrel have crossed the bridge, Spades peers across creek into the brush, but there's no sign of the creatures they had encountered. Tavy's eyes are wide with fear, and she looks longingly at the warm light of the orchard, several hundred yards away down the creek.)
Tavy: We won't be out of danger until we get back to cottage.
Penelope: This has certainly been a long day.
(Without speaking, they return up the slope down which they had come, following the switchbacks of a trail that winds among outcroppings of rock. Reaching the ridge, they stop to catch their breath.)
Penelope: (Sitting down on a large block of carved limestone.) I'm pooped.
(Spades leans against an old tamarack that rises high above the forest. Squirrel climbs off Spades' shoulder and scales the tree.)
Spades: I feel as if those creatures somehow drained what reserves of energy I had left.
Penelope: (Looks up at him.) Uhm hmm.
Tavy: They do that. (She glances around nervously.) That's really the biggest danger. You get so weak and sleepy that you can't fight or run. Then they're on you.
Spades: I wonder why they didn't get Mossers and his crew?
Penelope: Maybe they tasted too bad.
(The bear lets out a loud yawn and rolls in the dirt path, scratching her back. Penelope yawns and closes her eyes.)
Spades: Look, Blondie, you really think this is a good place to take a nap?
Penelope: (Opening her eyes enough to squint.) Don't you call me Blondie.
(Spade reaches down, grabs her under the arms, and gently lifts her to her feet. She puts her arms around his neck. He kisses her briefly, affectionately.)
Spades: We don't have time for this, I'm afraid.
Penelope: Why couldn't I have met a man like you in my Perils of Penelope days?
Spades: Can you change back into a will-o'-the-wisp if you have to?
Penelope: (Nodding.) Yeah, but as tired as I am, there's no telling where I'd wind up, probably back at the old swamp.
Tavy: (Her expression emphatic.) We don't want that!
(A few minutes later, Squirrel comes back down. Spades backs up to the tree so that Squirrel can climb onto his shoulder.)
Spades: What did you see up there?
Squirrel: The ballintoick's in the orchard contemplatively eating an apple. He's still dressed as Jinks. The vampire girls have headed up into the hollow. It's amazing how fast they can move. (He chortles.) You must have scared 'em good!
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) No. The creek issues from a cave in the hills. They can't cross it, but they can follow it to the place where it rises and go around it, above the head of it. They're coming after us.
Penelope: I suppose that means we'd better get going.
(They follow the trail along the ridge, the leaves of autumn like a living watercolor around them in the evening.)
Squirrel: There's something like a schloss over the hill. I could see the top of it. It has gray walls and a steep roof, and a tower.
Tavy: That's where Colonel Monmouth used to live.
Penelope: Who was he?
Tavy: An Englishman, retired from the military. His wife had died in a cholera epidemic, and he moved out here with his daughters. I guess he thought they'd all be safer in isolation.
(Before long, they come to a place where the trail branches.)
Spades: This is where we go down, isn't it?
Tavy: It's the way we came, but I think maybe we should go straight.
Squirrel: Where does it go? Don't we want to get out of the shadows of the woods?
Tavy: Ordinarily that would be the idea.
Penelope: You're thinking of the field of enchantment, aren't you? (Looks at Tavy.) As sleepy as I am, I'd probably never get past the oak.
Spades: Let's hurry.
(They haven't gone much farther down the trail, when they hear an eerie sound from somewhere deep in the forest.)
Tavy: We have no time to lose.
(They begin to run.)
Spades: Where is it coming from?
Tavy: Saddern Moat, most likely, over the hill behind us!
(The trail leads to the end of a promontory, then downhill into denser woods. Penelope trips on a root and sprawls headlong. Spades helps her up, wiping blood off her face, Squirrel clinging tightly to his shoulder.)
Spades: Ow!
Squirrel: Sorry.
Penelope: They're getting closer.
Tavy: They can feel our fear.
Squirrel: What is that sound? (He shakes his head rapidly, as if to clear it.) It makes it hard to concentrate.
Tavy: (Glancing nervously back up the trail.) It's sort of like a siren song. It has the power to confuse, to lure and entrap.
(Soon they are again running. The trail becomes steep, then levels off into low, marshy woods deep with rotting leaves. By now the inhuman singing is much louder, more insistent.)
Spades: (Stopping in a mire.) Where are we going?
Tavy: This way. (She grabs his hand and pulls him. Penelope stands confused among the trees. The bear trots up to her, takes her hand gently in its mouth, and pulls her along after the others. On the crest of the high hillside appear the three vampire girls, their faces white in the shadows of the woods. They open their mouths, and sound comes out that no words of a reasoning mind can describe. Their bloodshot eyes bright, they hasten down after their quarry.)
Tavy: Come on! (Pulling on Spades' hand.) Don't make me use my powers on you.
Spades: (Helplessly.) Use them, Tavy. It's our only hope.
(The sound of the surf, which can now be heard, attracts them irresistably. Spades and Penelope find themselves stumbling mindlessly toward it, heedless of the weird emanations from the woods. Ursula, bringing up the rear, turns and emits an earsplitting roar, warning the pursuers that bears eat vampires.)
Penelope: Spades! Baby, wait for me.
(Spades stops running. He takes Penelope's hand. At last they emerge from the trees onto the beach and run, hand in hand, into the crashing waves. The cold water clears Spades' mind almost immediately. Squirrel hangs onto Spades shoulder for dear life.
Spades: Ow!
Squirrel: Look!
(In the shadows of the woods can be seen the three girls, their eyes intent, their faces pale and hungry.)
Spades: (Looking at Penelope.) Poor Nel. You wore your motoring coat into the surf.
Penelope: Not to mention my boots.
Tavy: (Eyeing the woods.) I don't like having Colonel Monmouth's daughters this close to home. Ursula!
(The bear, which has waded into the surf, looking for dinner, suddenly loses interest in fish and turns toward the woods. With a roar, she charges toward the vampires, who scatter.)
Spades: Tavy, you're a credit to witchcraft. If it weren't for you, those bloodsuckers would be all over me right now.
Tavy: (Shivering.) This water's cold! I'm ready to get home to a nice fire.
(Tavy wades out of the surf, her blue jeans soaked, her shirt wet to above the waist. Spades and Penelope follow her. Once on shore, Spades drops to one knee so Squirrel can get down. Penelope removes her coat and unlaces her boots.)
Penelope: My feet are killing me.
Squirrel: I'm the only squirrel I know of who has escaped vampires by running into the surf.
Spades: No doubt.
Squirrel: Come to think of it, I'm the only squirrel I know of who has been chased by vampires.
Spades: You're the only squirrel I know of who talks and carries a Parker pen.
Squirrel: Is that bad?
Spades: Well, if the squirrels in my world were like you, especially considering how many of them there are--
Penelope: (Sitting down on the sand.) Oh, let's please not talk about unpleasant things. Spades, would you help me with my boots, please.
Squirrel: Okay, let's talk about what we're going to have for dinner.
Penelope: I'm too tired to cook dinner. (She looks at him incredulously.) Are you serious?
Spades: (Taking hold of a boot and carefully removing it.) Not even a steak? A grilled steak?
(When the boot slides off, Penelope gives a sigh of relief. She shifts position and Spades pulls on the other boot.)
Spades: Think of the wonderful fire we'll have to grill them on.
Penelope: Aren't you tired?
(Tavy turns and watches them with amusement.)
Squirrel: And, you know, it wouldn't be much extra effort to bake a potato.
Spades: (Sliding the boot off.) And put together a salad.
Penelope: (Rubbing her sore feet.) And just what are you going to be doing all this time that I'm preparing potatoes and salad?
Spades: (Shrugs.) Squirrel here will sing for our entertainment, and I'll mix the drinks. (He gives her a winning smile.) What'll you have?
Penelope: I'll have the same thing you're having.
Tavy: I can't wait to hear Squirrel sing!
Spades: He's performed in all the best hollow trees.
(Spades helps Penelope get up. Penelope bends and retrieves her soaked motoring coat. Spades picks up her boots.)
Squirrel: I believe she has you trained.
Spades: (Scowls at him.) Hasn't anyone told you those words are a hanging offense?
(As they make their way down the beach toward the cottage, Ursula's roars can be heard from the woods.)
I had intended to add to this thread a long time ago. I'll reread it tomorrow and add an installment. From what you just posted, it looks as though Al and Todd are finally getting on with it! Are you working on a novel these days?
How nice that your sister enjoys what you write! My parents like to read my short stories and encourage me to write more. The story I posted in the most recent contest is the first of the Janet Ashland Mystery Stories, about a guy who sits in the back office of a medical clinic and doesn't solve any mysteries. I have no idea what the stories will be about other than that, or what role Janet Ashland, the doctor who owns the clinic, will play. I've got all the main characters and places named.
Tavy: (Looking nervously towards the woods.) I’d don’t think we’ve seen the last of them.Penelope: (With a shudder.) I don’t have a good feeling about it, either.
Spades: (Glancing back into the shadows they have emerged from. Beyond the beach and the line of trees rise the high hills to which the vampire girls had retreated.) What can we do?
Tavy: Nothing, really. They don’t seem to venture far from the Moat unless they’re hungry. They must have exhausted whatever it is up there they live off of.
Squirrel: You said they can’t cross running water and are terrified of the surf. Is that why they didn’t follow us onto the beach?
Tavy: Yes, and if they come out of the shadows, their skin starts burning, kind of the way we sunburn, but much faster, until it starts smoking, literally burning. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway. The hollow and these foothills of the Druid Mountains are in deep enough shadow that they can hunt there.
(At the cottage, Spades takes in stove wood and kindling.)
Penelope: (Standing in the kitchen.) I’m afraid we’re all out of stakes, baby.
Tavy: (Hesitating.) Uhm. There’s something I should show you.
Squirrel: (Tapping an empty jar.) I hope it’s a spare bottle of olives.
(Tavy opens the plain, wooden door that’s beside the cupboard. Inside are the wooden studs of the wall and the back of the cottage’s weatherboards. Between the studs are small shelves. She takes down a bottle of olives.)
Squirrel: Get that can of Creole seasoning, please, ma’am, while you’re at it.
Penelope: I don’t remember seeing that door there.
Tavy: It’s only there when I summon it. (Setting the olives and seasoning on the table, she closes the door.)
Spades: There’s hardly room in that closet for a squirrel to hide.
Squirrel: (Flicking his tail disapprovingly.) Be a gentleman and open that jar of olives for an old general.
Tavy: Sometimes there are people here who aren’t supposed to be. I wanted to show you what such a person would see if, by chance, he came in while I was getting supplies.
Penelope: I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at, Tavy.
Spades: (Picking up the jar and twisting the lid off.) Olives soaking in vermouth. Uhm, Uhm. And queen-sized, too. (He takes one out and puts it in his mouth.) Oh, that’s just heavenly.
Tavy: Open the pantry door.
(Penelope opens the door. Where shallow shelves stocked with canned goods had been, there yawns a dark opening from which cool, dry air comes into the room. Spades sets the jar down.)
Squirrel: A dimensional portal.
(Tavy nods, moving to the opening.)
Penelope: What’s in there?
Tavy: Food storage. Come on. I’ll show you. (She walks through, disappearing into the darkness.)
Spades: Tavy?
(Squirrel takes out his Parker pen.)
Tavy: (Her voice coming from the darkness.) Just walk in. It isn’t dark in here. It only looks that way from out there.
(Warily, Penelope follows her in, then Spades and Squirrel. From the ceiling of a square room about half the size of the cottage, incandescent bulbs glow with yellowish light. To the left are rows of wooden shelves stacked with boxes and cans.)
Squirrel: It’s cold enough to hang meat in here.
(To the right are large, wooden iceboxes. Tavy goes to one and raises the lid.)
Tavy: These are magically refrigerated. (She removes four steaks.)
(Spades and Penelope look inside the icebox, which is insulated and lined with galvanized steel so cold it has frost on it. The icebox is full of steaks.)
Penelope: What’s in the other ones, Tavy?
Tavy: (Closing the lid, she points.) That one’s full of ice cream. That one has vegetables. The other ones aren’t freezers but merely keep things cool. That one has milk, cream, yoghurt, cheese. That one has fruit. (She points across to the shelves.) Penelope, would you be so good as to get some potatoes out of that box?
(Penelope goes to a wooden shipping container that sits on a third shelf.)
Spades: What dimension are we in?
Tavy: The dimension Dad and I came from. He built it underground, cut it out of solid rock, then resealed the entry in such a way that it would never be discovered.
Squirrel: Why did he go to so much trouble?
Tavy: To make sure there was no other way in from that dimension when we used it here. He didn’t know then, of course, just where we would end up. (She looks at the steaks.) It’ll take these awhile to thaw out.
Squirrel: I think I’m ready for a good night’s sleep.
Penelope: (Holding up a long, beautiful potato.) Tavy, what keeps these from going bad in here?
Tavy: (Shrugs.) The food never goes bad. It always stays fresh.
Squirrel: That’s convenient.
Spades: (Yawns.) I don’t think I want to stay up several hours waiting for steaks to thaw. Maybe we can have them tomorrow.
Penelope: No. You have to stay up and mix drinks and help me make a salad. (She smiles.)
(Tavy leads them back into the cottage, which seems warm and bright after the storage room. She puts the steaks on a cutting board and covers them with a cloth. Penelope sets the potatoes on the table, then rubs her eyes. Spades closes the door. Moments later, when they look back at the mysterious door they have just come through, they see only a plain wall.)
Spades: Have the vampires ever come here, to the cottage?
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) There’s no cover from the sky. We’re out in the wide open.
Squirrel: (Leaping lightly onto a chair, then up onto the table, he tips the lid off the olive jar and spears one with a small fork.) I hope it never occurs to them to buy parasols.
Alex, the pirates are hysterical! I'll work on another Swamp Gas episode this morning.
Spades: (Looking for a fork.) We’re lucky the vampires were elsewhere when that fog rolled in.Penelope: Uhm, hmm. When Nightmare decided to have a party on the beach. (She opens the cupboard, takes a fork from the silverware chest, and hands it Spades.) I’ve got a feeling we haven’t heard the last of him.
(Spades goes to the table and spears a couple of olives.)
Squirrel: (Happily nibbling on an olive.) These are the best! What I wouldn’t have given for a jar of these in January of ’45.
Spades: (With a low smile.) Fortunately for all of us, I let Nightmare have it with a fireball.
Penelope: (Looking at him darkly.) I have half a mind to give you a small dose of what left that character lying in a smoking pile of robes.
Spades: (Looking back at her a little nervously, his smile vanishing.) Take it easy now, Blondie. (He bites on an olive.) No need to point any fingers at me.
(Penelope goes over to the sofa, sits down, yawns, and stretches her arm along the back of the sofa. In the center of the cottage is a square post with metal rungs. Tavy climbs up among the oars and fishing rods stored on the trusses, and up into the glazed cupola. Penelope, her eyes on Spades, pats the cushion beside her, but Spades drags a captain’s chair out from the desk and sits down. As always, the ship’s clock on the wall shows 5:15.)
Penelope: (Looking up.) Tavy, why didn’t you hide in the food-storage room when we came here the first time, instead of hiding behind the couch?
Tavy: Oh, I had been watching you. I knew you and Spades weren’t evil, though I wasn’t too sure about Squirrel. (She laughs.) I wanted to hear what you said. I couldn’t have done that in the Cold Room.
Penelope: Is that what you and your father called it, the Cold Room?
Tavy: Uhm hmm. The Cold Room, the pantry. (She climbs down.) Orchil’s out there. I’d better go see what’s up.
Squirrel: (Setting his fork down.) What do you mean?
Tavy: When she saw me looking out, she motioned.
Spades: (Sitting up straight in the chair.)Is anyone else out there?
Tavy: (Shaking her head.) Not that I can tell, but this place is like a temporary set on a studio back lot. It gets used for lots of things. (She glances at Penelope.) You’re not picking up anything, are you?
Penelope: Some awful woman singing “What Shall We Do With a Drunken Sailor?” Random, sideband stuff like that runs through my head all the time. Sometimes it nearly drives me crazy. (Her tired eyes return Tavy’s glance.) Why?
Tavy: It’s always late afternoon here. If someone were to come here in the morning or at night, it would be a different place, a parallel dimension. We wouldn’t be here--or, at least, not as we are. (She goes to the door.)
Spades: (Getting up.) I’ll go with her.
Penelope: (Regarding him under low lashes.) I wouldn’t get too close to that mermaid.
Spades: (Turning.) Why? I don’t think she would hurt me.
Penelope: (Her eyes smouldering.) She might not.
Squirrel: Wait for me!
(Squirrel scampers down from the table and follows them out the door. Lying back on the sofa, Penelope closes her eyes and tries to isolate the annoying singing from the other noise that’s in her mind and that comes and goes like AM radio signals after dark.)
Spades: (Pulling the cottage door shut behind them as Squirrel bounds down the wooden steps into the sand.) Do you think someone might be here besides us, someone we can’t see?
(Tavy shrugs. The salt breeze whips the high grass that grows atop the dunes. It’s warm among the dunes, as though the sand remembers the noonday sun, and the surf is a muffled roar. As they leave the dunes for the beach, Squirrel takes up a position in the grass on top of one, where he can keep an eye on both the beach and the cottage.)
Tavy: Sometimes the day will shift a few minutes one way or the other.
(As they walk out onto the sand and rock of the shore, she points. The sun is a giant red orb on the horizon. To the left of it, a full moon hangs low in the sky, and there’s an evening star. In the breakers, a pale, beautiful woman with reddish-brown hair watches them.)
Tavy: When you and Penelope arrived, the sun was below the horizon. Because of the optics involved, the sun’s sinking happens in a few minutes, as though it suddenly drops out of sight. The dimension we’re just isn’t very precise that way. Sometimes it’s sunset. Sometimes it’s twilight. But it’s always fifteen minutes after five.
(They take off their shoes. Spades rolls up his pants while Tavy unzips hers and takes them off. She looks at Spades.)
Tavy: You’re not going to go in very far like that.
Spades: (Sheepishly.) You have a longer shirttail than I do. (Watching Tavy for a moment, he mutters something, then unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants off. Smiling, Tavy takes him by the hand and they wade into the cold water. Tavy breathes deep the sea wind that tosses strands of her long, black hair. Orchil approaches timidly.)
Tavy: Hi, Orchil!
Orchil: (Looking shyly at Spades.) I haven’t seen you in a while.
(Spades seems nervous and at a loss for words.)
Tavy: I’m afraid things have been keeping us all busy.
(From his place on the dune, Squirrel watches through his Parker pen, which he has coverted into a miniature telescope. His tail flicking, he makes a clucking sound.)
Squirrel: (Muttering to himself.) Something tells me Blondie wouldn’t entirely approve of this.
(In the cottage, Penelope suddenly sits up. She recognizes the voice that’s singing, “Wha’ll ya do wi’ a drunk sailor . . .” Going to the window, she glances quickly outside, then she opens the door and goes down the steps. Squirrel sees her coming and thinks she’s been watching from the cupola. He ducks down in the high grass. In the surf, Orchil is telling Spades and Tavy about strange goings on.)
Orchil: The pirates keep coming back, and the people who live around here are sick of it. Some of the fishermen’s wives got together recently and asked for our help.
Spades: Where are they?
Orchil: Who?
Spades: The pirates. Or the fishermen. I’ve never seen anyone out there fishing. (He scans the water, the waves dark against the orange of the sun, under a sky so blue it looks like something out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.)
Tavy: No one’s been doing much fishing lately. Since the storm troopers came, people have gone into hiding.
Orchil: The pirates aren’t helping things. Mrs. Mulready, who lives down the shore, near the marshes, said, “What are the likes of them doing in here in Orchard Bay? This is a nice neighborhood!” (Her expression darkens. Spades and Tavy turn to see Penelope walking from the dunes to the spot where they left their pants. She stands there with her hands on her hips. Orchil arches an eyebrow. Instinctively, Tavy lets go of Spades’ hand.)
Spades: Why aren’t the pirates here?
Orchil: They’re a dimension off. Where they are, it’s nightfall. My sisters and I aren’t bound by dimensions, however. We have plans for the pirates.
Tavy: What can we do to help?
Orchil: (Smiling, she takes Tavy’s hand and regards her affectionately.) Nothing. What you can do is to stay safe. I merely wanted you to know that there are pirates about. (She turns her glowing eyes on Spades.) What you can do is keep this little girl from harm.
Spades: (Sighs.) You have my word on that.
(Spades and Tavy go back to the beach, the rocky bottom of the bay cold under their feet. Tavy turns.)
Tavy: Bye, Orchil! (She waves.) Be careful!
(Orchil, smiling, waves back, then with powerful thrusts of her tail sends spray flying as she cuts through the breakers. Then she turns and disappears beneath the surface.)
Tavy: As far as I’m concerned, those pirates aren’t much different from the kind of people who came and got my father, and I think we should do the same thing to them we did to Nightmare and his storm troopers.
Spades: (Hesitating.) I’m at your service, Milady. I can burn ’em alive. Penelope can electrocute ’em. We just need to be careful not to hurt the Mistress of the Realm.
Tavy: (No longer serious, she starts laughing.) Ursula can eat them!
(The bear comes trotting out of the woods and down to the shore, then wades into the surf. Soon she has a fish in her mouth. Penelope, a pensive expression on her face, is waiting for them by the pants.)
Spades: Avast there, matey!
Penelope: Red and that bunch are here, but it looks as though they missed this dimension by a hair. (She picks Spades’ khakis up and hands them to him.) Your shirttail’s wet, baby.
Spades: Thanks. (Taking the pants.) Orchil just wanted to tell us there are pirates about.
Tavy: She also said that the mermaids plan to deal with them, though she didn’t say how. (She looks down at Spades’ legs.) Why don’t we walk a little ways. I’d like to dry off before I put my jeans back on. The three make their way down the shore. Spades picks up a rock and skips it across the water.
(On the dune, Squirrel watches through the little telescope. He scratches his head.)
Squirrel: I’ll be damned. (There's a note of disappointment in his voice.) I’d have thought she’d have hit him by now.
M: Hmm? Why, does she like Guns n' Roses?
Swamp Gas: She listens to Mahler.
Squirrel: I prefer Tommy Dorsey and Artie Shaw.
M: Wasn't that in the days of wind-up phonographs?
Swamp Gas: We carry over with us unknowingly our experience from the past. Al, for example, has been through many lives.
M: An old soul, huh?
Squirrel: (Sings.) And a merry old soul was she . . .
Swamp Gas: Centuries ago, she was Lisa Gherardine, a young Italian girl married to a middle-aged merchant. A wandering portrait painter captured her likeness on canvas, her timeless face, her mysterious eyes.
Squirrel: (Stands on his haunches and sings, as though he were holding a microphone.) Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep . . .
Swamp Gas: In her last life she was Alexandra Romanov, machine-gunned by Bolsheviks.
(M shivers.)
Squirrel: Penelope here's tuned to the History Channel.
Swamp Gas: You little devil! You're as arrogant at General Patton.
M: (Glances at Squirrel.) He doesn't look a thing like George C. Scott, does he?
Swamp Gas: It's hard to imagine this rodent was once a bard.
Squirrel: A bard? (His ears perk up.) Who, pray?
Swamp Gas: I don't intend to make your ego even bigger than it already is.
Squirrel: Did he go by the name Willie, William, Bill?