Smells Like Pirates Page 7

  Despite his anger at his sister, who’d had no right to trade away something that didn’t belong to her, Homer was curious about some of the new things in the lair. A fountain that sprayed colored water caught his eye. Lorelei followed his gaze. “Do you like my soda fountain?” She took a paper cup from a dispenser and held it beneath a green stream. “This one is lime-flavored.” She took a drink. “Are you thirsty?”

  Homer was thirsty, and, after eating the bag of Dinookies, Dog was probably thirsty, too. So Homer took a paper cup and held it beneath a red stream, which turned out to be fruit punch. If Lorelei had been his friend, he would have told her he really like the soda fountain, but instead he said, “No big deal.” Then he filled the cup again and gave it to Dog. As he knelt, he whispered in Dog’s ear. “Smell the map, boy. Go find the map. The map is treasure.” Dog was his greatest hope. He’d found the map before—he could find it again.

  Lorelei took Homer on a tour of her lair. A trampoline, a popcorn machine, and a purple golf cart were among her favorite purchases. “I set up a laser detection grid around the perimeter. That’s how I knew you were on the balcony.”

  Lorelei, who’d once been homeless, had turned Madame’s lair into a place any kid would love. When Homer first met her, she was living behind a utility closet in a soup warehouse. In those days, a few milk crates had held her meager belongings, but she’d been proud of her little hideout. Now she lived in Wonderland. A pang hit Homer as he remembered their friendship. He wanted to tell her how great the lair was. But that would be nice. She doesn’t deserve nice, he reminded himself.

  “Watch this,” Lorelei said. She clapped her hands, and the lair went dark, but the stone ceiling twinkled like a star-filled sky. Homer hoped that during the blackout, Dog would take the opportunity to sniff out the map and seize it. But when Lorelei clapped again and the lights turned back on, Dog was lying on his belly, having some sort of staring contest with Daisy the rat. “The self-destruct button still doesn’t work, but that’s okay. Oh, and look what I found.” She pointed across the pool to where some kind of vessel, partially submerged, was moored. “That’s a seaweed-powered submarine. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Hey, that used to belong to my uncle,” Homer said. “Ajitabh invented it.”

  “Well, it belongs to me now.”

  Homer watched Dog from the corner of his eye. Why wasn’t he sniffing around? The book with its hidden treasure map was in here somewhere. “Pssst,” Homer said while Lorelei walked over to a vending machine and punched a button. Dog ignored him. “Pssst. Dog. Pssst.”

  “He won’t find it,” Lorelei said. “Do you think I’m stupid or something? I know Dog’s secret, remember? Do you think I’d leave the reptile book somewhere where he can smell it?”

  Darn it!

  Lorelei grabbed another snack bag from the vending machine’s bin. “Want to see the very coolest thing I bought?” She walked to the edge of the pool and opened the bag. A ripple appeared next to the submarine. Dog growled. Homer’s palms turned clammy. Something was in there.

  Lorelei faced the pool and whistled. Dog ran to Homer’s side, then pressed his head between Homer’s shins, watching as the ripple moved. A red speedboat, which was tied to a mooring post, began to rock back and forth as the ripple passed by. Dog trembled. Who could blame him? The last ripple he’d seen in that water had belonged to a vicious monster. “What’s in there?” Homer asked, grabbing Dog’s leash just in case.

  “Wait until you see,” Lorelei said. She knelt at the edge and put her hand into the murky water. “I call him Speckles.” The ripple moved straight for Lorelei, and just before it reached her, something surfaced—something black and covered in white polka dots. Whatever it was, it was huge! It lifted its smooth, flat head above the water and opened an enormous mouth. The mouth opened so wide it looked like a black hole. Lorelei dumped the snack bag’s contents into the mouth, which then closed, and the creature disappeared below the water. “Freeze-dried plankton,” she said as she crumpled the bag. “Speckles loves it.”

  “What was that thing?” Homer asked.

  “He’s a whale shark, the biggest fish in the ocean.” She patted the shark’s tail as he passed by. “You don’t have to worry. He’s my watchdog. He guards the place. He looks scary, but whale sharks are gentle. They aren’t like other sharks. Speckles wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sometimes I ride on his back. I bought him from a zoo. Poor thing lived there his whole life.”

  For a moment, Homer thought that shark-riding might be a fun thing to do, but then anger rushed over him. “I don’t care about all this stuff, Lorelei. I want my map!”

  “I won’t give it back, but I’m glad you’re here.” She flared her nostrils. “I need Dog and his treasure-sniffing nose.”

  Homer’s cheeks burned red. “You can’t have him.” He gripped the leash so tightly his fingers ached. “I’ll never give him to you. And you promised you’d never kidnap him again.”

  “I know that,” she said. “That’s why I want you both to become members of FOUND. Come on, Homer. Join me. Why not? You had the map in your possession and you did nothing with it. Why didn’t you do something with it?”

  “I was waiting….” he mumbled.

  “Waiting for what?”

  “Till I got older. Ajitabh and Zelda said I should finish school before I set out on the quest.”

  Lorelei laughed. “Why would you do a stupid thing like that? You’re young and strong. This is the time, Homer Pudding. Right now. You should have gone after that treasure the minute you got the map instead of listening to those L.O.S.T. people. You’re never going to get anywhere in life if you let other people tell you what to do all the time.”

  Some of the things she was saying made sense. Homer had promised his uncle that he’d continue the quest. But while he was busy growing up and finishing school, someone else might find Rumpold’s treasure. Homer stared at the word on Lorelei’s pocket. FOUND. She wasn’t waiting around. She was making things happen.

  But by helping her, he’d be a traitor to L.O.S.T.

  “So what’s it gonna be, Homer?” she asked. “Are you gonna go back to Milkydale and clean goat poop, or are you gonna come with me on the most important treasure quest the world has ever known?”

  Goat poop or treasure quest? That seemed an unfair choice.

  A buzzer sounded. Lorelei yanked the remote control from her pocket. Her face went pale as she stared at the yellow light that flashed on the remote’s surface. “Someone just went down the tortoise slide,” she whispered. Then she frowned at Homer. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”

  Daisy the rat waddled down the stairs with an inhaler clenched between her sharp teeth. She dropped the inhaler at Lorelei’s feet. Dog barked and wagged his tail as Hercules appeared on the top step.

  “Someone needs to vacuum that tunnel,” Hercules said. “I nearly choked on a spider. And there should be a mattress at the end of the slide. I think I bruised my tailbone. I’m going to need some anti-inflammatory medicine.” He walked down the stairs and set his first-aid kit on the floor as if he’d been invited. Rummaging through it, he pulled out some nasal spray and spritzed both nostrils. “This dank air will aggravate my mucus membranes for sure.”

  Lorelei grabbed Homer’s arm and pulled him aside. “What is he doing here?” The question shot out of her mouth with a fair amount of spit.

  “I don’t know,” Homer replied with a shrug. Dog wagged his tail and poked Hercules with his nose until he was rewarded with a pat on the head.

  “Hi, Dog,” Hercules said. Then he recapped the nasal spray and looked around. “Hi, Lorelei. What is this place? Is this some kind of fort?”

  “It’s not a fort. Little kids make forts. This is my lair.” Then Lorelei jabbed a finger into Homer’s chest. “Did you tell him how to find me? We have a gentleman’s agreement, remember? I keep your secret and you keep mine. Did you break our gentleman’s agreement?”

  “I didn’t break it,” Homer
insisted. “I don’t know how he found this place.”

  “I followed you,” Hercules said. He closed his first-aid kit, then stuck his inhaler in his pocket.

  “I don’t believe you,” Lorelei said. “I think Homer broke our gentleman’s agreement. And if that’s the case, then what’s keeping me from breaking it?” It was a threat that shot right to Homer’s heart. Dog would be in terrible danger if the world knew his secret. Every thief, from the lowly pickpocket to the glamorous international spy, would want Dog.

  “You’ve got to believe me,” Homer said. “I had no idea Hercules was following me.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” Hercules said. “Hey, do you have proper ventilation in this lair? All this dampness could lead to mold growth. My lungs are very sensitive to mold spores.”

  Lorelei folded her arms and stared suspiciously at Hercules. “Why did you follow Homer? Did you come here because you want to leave L.O.S.T.?”

  “Of course not.” Hercules picked a bit of spiderweb from his wiry hair. “I’m not a traitor like Gertrude and Torch.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Because I knew Homer wouldn’t let you go on this quest without him. This is his dream. Just like it’s my dream to win the World’s Spelling Bee twice in a row. I wouldn’t let anyone take that chance away from me.” He smiled at Homer. “Also, I’m here to protect him.”

  Lorelei snorted. “Protect him? How can you protect Homer? You’re afraid of everything. You fainted on Mushroom Island when we faced that bear.”

  “For your information, Lorelei, I’m not afraid of everything. I have certain phobias, I admit that. But I can help Homer because…” He glanced at Homer.

  Homer grabbed Hercules by the arm. “Don’t,” he warned under his breath. “Don’t tell her. You can’t trust her.”

  “It’s okay,” Hercules whispered. “I want to help you. This is the only way I’ll be able to persuade her to let me join you on the quest.”

  “But I’m not going on the quest.”

  “Of course you are. You can’t let her get away with this.” He turned and faced Lorelei. “I can protect Homer because I’m superstrong.”

  She laughed. “You? No way.” Her doubt was understandable. Hercules possessed arms and legs so skinny they might have belonged to a stork. And his ever-present first-aid kit might as well have had the word wimp painted on it. “Superstrong?” She laughed again.

  Hercules shrugged, then walked over to one of the vending machines. Without a grunt or a groan, he picked it up as if it were the family cat.

  “Whoa!” Lorelei cried. “That’s impressive.” She looked around and pointed to the purple golf cart. “Can you lift that?” He did. Then he lifted the trampoline. Even though Homer already knew his friend’s secret, he still smiled with amazement. “Holy smoke, you are superstrong,” Lorelei said. “So that explains your name.”

  “Not exactly,” Hercules said. “My father, Senator Simplisticus Simple, is a Romanophile—that’s someone who loves all things Roman. He chose Roman names for everyone in the family—Tiberius, Caesar, Diana, Romulus, and Brutus the dog. It’s just a weird coincidence that I’m strong like the original Hercules. But my parents don’t know. Neither do my brothers and sister.”

  “So you’ve kept your strength a secret this whole time?” Lorelei said.

  “If my parents knew, they’d make me play hockey or soccer or worse—they’d make me play football. Such a Neanderthal sport.”

  “You’re strong and you don’t play sports?” Lorelei’s eyebrows knitted. “But you could be a champion.”

  “I am a champion,” he said, throwing back his shoulders. “I won the World’s Spelling Bee.”

  She narrowed her eyes and gave Hercules a long look. “The real Hercules didn’t win spelling bees. The real Hercules had to complete twelve labors. He skinned a lion that was terrorizing a town. He slayed a nine-headed sea serpent. He even kidnapped a three-headed dog.”

  “I don’t want to skin or slay or kidnap anything. I want to use my strength for good, not evil.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to protect Homer?”

  “I do.” Hercules shrugged. “I guess if we come face-to-face with a nine-headed sea serpent, I’ll do my best to keep it from eating us.”

  Lorelei broke the stare with a smile. “Okay. You can come with us.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Homer said. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not helping you find Rumpold’s treasure.”

  “Yes, you are,” she said. “Because if you and Dog don’t help me, then I’ll tell the world about L.O.S.T.”

  They stood nose-to-nose, arms folded, faces red with stubborn pride, breathing like a pair of bulldogs. The happy tomato-soup days were long gone. The last dregs of friendship evaporated in the heat of their glares, like beads of water on a sizzling-hot sidewalk. Homer vowed to himself that he would never ever trust her again. “I’m not joining FOUND.”

  Hercules cleared his throat. “There’s a simple solution to this, and I’m not just saying that because my last name is Simple.” He pushed up his rugby sleeves. “If you two work together, then Homer can undertake the quest in the name of L.O.S.T. and Lorelei in the name of FOUND. The two of you can split the treasure fifty-fifty. In other words, you cooperate.”

  “Cooperate?” Lorelei asked.

  “You work together. Cooperation comes from the Latin co, meaning ‘together,’ and operatus, meaning ‘work.’ ”

  “I know what cooperation means,” Lorelei said. “It’s just that I hadn’t considered…” She nodded. “Yes, I think it’s a good idea. We work together, we split the treasure. Why not? Rumpold’s treasure is sure to be huge. There will be plenty for both of us.”

  Homer wasn’t sure. It sounded good. But this was Lorelei.

  “Think about it this way,” she said. “I have the map, and I’m going after this treasure with or without you. But I have a better chance of success with you. You can give your half to some stupid museum so you won’t be breaking any of L.O.S.T.’s rules. And I’ll do what I want with my half. And everyone will be happy.”

  “And I’ll keep a record of the event,” Hercules said. “An official record for posterity.”

  “This time I need a definition,” Lorelei said.

  “Posterity means ‘future generations.’ It’s from the Latin posterus, which means ‘coming after.’ Your biographers will need to know exactly what happened.”

  “Biographers?” Homer said with surprise. He’d often imagined that one day a book would be written about him, but he’d never discussed this with anyone. And no one had ever brought it up in casual conversation until now. He’d imagined The Biography of Homer W. Pudding as required reading for students all over the world. He’d be a role model for those who’d been called fatso or weirdo or dork.

  “Let’s make this clear,” Homer said. “I’m not joining FOUND. I’m doing this in the name of L.O.S.T. Hercules, Dog, and I are doing this for L.O.S.T.”

  Lorelei held out her hand. “We must make a second gentleman’s agreement.” She waited for Homer and Hercules to plop their hands on top of hers. Her voice grew very serious. “We three agree that we will search for Rumpold Smeller’s treasure, and when we find it, we will split the booty fifty-fifty. Half going to FOUND, which is me, and half going to L.O.S.T., which is you guys.”

  “And we’ll do it in a week,” Homer said, “ ’cause I have to get home for my sister’s birthday.”

  “And I need to register for the spelling bee.”

  A buzzer sounded. A light flashed simultaneously on the universal remote. Lorelei ran over to the big screen. “It’s Gertrude and Torch,” she said. “They’re calling.”

  “Don’t give them the reptile book,” Homer warned. “We can’t trust them.”

  “I have it all figured out,” Lorelei assured him. “You’d better hide over there, where they can’t see you.” She pointed to a beanbag chair that was tucked into a corner. Homer gr
abbed Dog. The plastic beans squeaked as the boys sat. Lorelei settled on her red throne and pushed a button. “What do you two want?” she asked.

  The two traitors still sat on the deck of the yacht, the sails of other boats bobbing behind them. Gertrude’s little sailor hat was back on her head. She held up Rare Reptiles I Caught and Stuffed, an enormous grin plastered on her pasty face. “I just wanted you to know that your delivery arrived safe and sound.”

  Homer leaped to his feet. Lorelei had delivered the map into their greedy hands? Wasn’t she smarter than that? She was going to ruin everything.

  “I’m glad to see you have the book,” Lorelei said. “I paid that delivery boy a lot of money. We can’t be too careful with the only known copy of Rumpold’s map. Do you have the glue sticks and scissors so you can start putting the map together?”

  “Oh, we have what we need,” Gertrude said. “Believe me, we have everything we need.”

  Torch yanked the book from Gertrude’s hands and started flipping through the pages. Her hawk watched from her shoulder as the pages flew. A snicker seeped from Torch’s mouth. She leaned close to the camera. “Where are you?” she asked Lorelei.

  “I’m at my… house, packing my suitcase for the quest. I’ll be joining you soon.”

  Gertrude and Torch glanced at each other, then broke into a round of wicked belly laughing. Gertrude’s chins jiggled. The hawk flapped its wings trying to keep its balance on Torch’s rocking shoulder.

  “You’re so stupid,” Torch said. “You think we’re gonna wait around for you to join us?” A rumble sounded, like a motor. The scenery behind the women began to move.