Canto Eighteen –
Library Lies
The four young Pirates took the invisible Captain into the
Norwall Public Library, into the reading room where all the encyclopedias were
kept, along with the piano used for community sing-a-longs after town council meetings. They all took seats around one of the round
tables used for meetings and, on rare occasions, students doing homework.
Valerie kept staring at the empty space behind the floating
glasses where the Captain’s face actually had to be. If she squinted and stared real hard, she
could almost picture a face there, though an older face than the yearbook photo
Mary had shown her.
“Uncle Noah,” Mary said, “You have to answer some questions
for us now.”
“Well, um, heh-heh… what exactly do you children want to
know?”
“How did you become invisible?” Danny demanded. “And can you teach me how to do it too?”
“Why do you want to be invisible?” Valerie asked Danny,
while poking him in the ribs with a finger.
“Yeah… well… you see, I could go into the girls’ locker room
at school, and…”
“Okay, not that question!” insisted Mary. Pidney beside her was a bright crimson color
in the face. “Tell us, Uncle Noah, why
you became invisible.”
“Well, that was not a matter of choice. Did you read the log book I sent you?”
“Not all of it, no…”
Mary looked at the empty air behind the glasses with a very skeptical
expression.
“Well, you see, there was this witchdoctor… also called a
juju man… His name was Mangkukulan… He put a curse on me, and made me invisible.”
“Why did he put a curse on you?” Pidney asked.
“Well, uh… you really should read about it in the log book
first. It tells the story better than I
can here and now… um, before you read it.”
“Just summarize for us,” suggested Mary.
“Well, um… the truth of the matter is… um, I am in need of
a… well, a pure sort of… a girl who…”
“What, Uncle Noah?”
“I need a virgin.”
“Cool,” said Danny.
“What do you need one of those for?”
“Um, well, I… Mangkukulan needs a virgin to give to the
mayap mapali Matuling Lupa.”
“The what?” asked Valerie.
“That wouldn’t be a volcano or something would it?” asked
Danny.
“Well, sorta, kinda… the god of volcanoes.”
“And why does Man-coo-coo-man think he needs to get a virgin
from you, Captain?” asked Pidney, frowning.
“Because I… well… I sorta… um… spoiled the one he had.”
“You what? And what
virgin were you planning to give him in return?” asked Mary, almost loudly and
angrily enough to be heard by the librarian in the next room.
“I hate to ask this, Mary dear… but… well… are you still a
virgin?”
“What? How can you
ask a question like that?” Mary roared.
The librarian, Val’s Aunt Alice, looked into the room just
as the Captain hastily pulled the hood of the cloak over his head.
“Is everything all right, Mary dear?” the librarian asked.
“Oh, ah… we are fine.
We are just having a friendly little argument.”
“I see…” Aunt Alice frowned at the cloaked and hooded figure
slumped down in the chair across the table from Mary. “Call me if you need anything, girls. I have a handy phone on the desk, and there’s
a new deputy sheriff in town. We have a
deputy who actually lives in Norwall now.”
“That’s good to know, Ms. Stewart. Thank you so much.” Mary smiled grimly at the cloaked Captain.
Captain Dettbarn seemed meek and chastened after that.
“You can’t really believe you can take a girl from your home
town and give her to a witch doctor to throw into a volcano?” Mary said quietly through gritted teeth.
“No, I suppose not.
But I still might need to know… um, for magical reasons. I do have to solve the problem somehow.”
“You don’t have the right to ask that question,” said
Pidney, simmering with anger. “You are
talking about a young lady’s honor. She
loses something no matter what the answer is.”
“How can she be losing something?” asked Danny, looking thoroughly
confused.
“She loses her right to privacy. And besides, if she answers that she is one,
the creepy old Captain here may kidnap her and throw her into a volcano.”
“Oh,” Danny said.
“I really need to know, Mary, honey… because the witch
doctor’s magic follows me everywhere.
And I am afraid he will try to take you if you are. After all, you are the daughter of my good
friend Dagwood Philips, and the witch doctor will know that you are important
to me.”
“And what will you do if it turns out that I am one?”
“Well, I can’t do anything about that… but your boyfriend
here could.”
“Captain!” Mary was
angry again, and Pidney was a glowing red with embarrassment again.
“Is Valerie in any danger?” asked Danny, suddenly panicky.
“This pretty little one?” the Captain asked.
“Of course,” said Mary.
“Is she in danger too?”
“Well, I don’t know.
She’s obviously not as important to me as you are, Mary… but she’s even
more obviously a virgin.”
“Well, that’s disturbing,” said Valerie. “Because I have my doubts that Pidney can
solve the problem for both of us.” The
notion tickled her insides. The idea was
not without its good side. But, still,
it made her angry that they all made that particular assumption about her.
“I, um… I better be going now,” said the Captain. “I have put you girls in enough danger
already. But… I promise, I will find a
solution to this problem. You, however,
need to read the log book. If I have any
chance of finding the right magical spell to save us all, I’m going to need
your help.”
With that, there was a sudden burst of light from flash
powder, and the Captain was gone. His
cloak remained. As did his clothing and
his yachting cap.
“Oh, my gawd!” swore Pidney.
“What will we do now?”
“I think we have to do some serious reading,” said
Mary. “And we may have to think about
some other things that kids like us probably shouldn’t be doing either.”
A thrill ran up Valerie’s spine.
Crab Apple Pie
I was spending time with a certain cynical youth who likes to insult me and argue about every one of my faults as a human being, telling me that such treatment is meant to improve me to meet a standard that only he thinks I need to live up to when it occurred to me; Crab Apple has two meanings.
Crab apples (which ominously come up on Wikipedia as genus Malus) are generally mistrusted as eating apples. Alternatively known as “wild apples”, they are often bitter to the taste. Hence, the association with the chronic complainer, the dyspeptic dude, and the hen-pecky female. Crab apples are the fruits of unpleasant people-trees.
So, how does one deal with crab apples? I always tend to fall back on the homily, “When you are given any kind of fruit, make it into pie.” And yes, the links under the pictures will actually yield recipes. I know it is a metaphorical over-simplification. But, if I do not enjoy being critiqued for the hair in my ears and the werewolf hair sprouting under my eyes, or the way I say, “I’m sorry!” too much, I am going to use those fruits to make a pie of surreal comedy in a WordPress post.
I saw a guy on the highway speeding around me at well-over the speed limit, turning around to give me a look at his middle finger, probably trying to predict how many IQ points he will have left when he crashes into whatever is ahead of him that he can’t see because he’s grinning and glaring at me behind him. There’s an apple for this pie.
The impatient clerk in the tax office gives me the “Are you really that stupid” glare and attendant sigh as she suggests that I step to the side and correct the mistakes in my paperwork so she can mistreat the next person in the incredibly long line that she wants me to return to the back of. There’s another apple.
In today’s world, it really doesn’t take long to have enough apples for your pie. In fact, I am looking at a huge pie now with loads and loads of crab apples in it.
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