Smells Like Dog (27 page)

Homer held the book over the water. “I’ve got it right here but I’ll throw it in if you don’t let Lorelei and my dog get on that boat.”

Madame scowled. “Twaddle, did you look through that book?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“It’s just a book with a bunch of stupid drawings in it.”

“Drawings?” Madame’s face went white. “What kind of drawings?”

“I don’t know. Lines and scribbles. Stuff like that.”

Madame la Directeur kicked Mr. Twaddle’s shin. “You moron! There aren’t supposed to be drawings in that book. My father never drew pictures of his reptiles. He
only took black-and-white photographs. It’s got to be the map.”

Homer knew immediately what his uncle had done. During the Spanish Inquisition, when bookmakers wanted to hide forbidden books, they’d hide them within the pages of religious books, the very place where no one would think to look. Uncle Drake must have cut up Rumpold Smeller’s map and stuck it into a book that no one would be interested in, and that Madame would have overlooked because she already owned a copy.

Madame’s fingers twitched excitedly. “Give me that book.”

Homer continued to hold it over the water. Dog growled louder as the bubbles surfaced again. “I’ll give you the book if you let Lorelei and Dog get on the boat.”

“Fine.” Madame dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Lorelei grabbed Dog’s leash and pulled him toward the boat. With a groan, she lifted him over the side and onto a seat. Then she whistled. Daisy popped out of a vending machine, where she’d been eating chips, and scurried across the floor. With a graceful leap, she landed next to Dog.

“Now open the tunnel,” Homer said.

“What tunnel?” Madame asked. Homer let the book slip a bit. “Okay, okay.” She pulled the remote control from her pocket and pressed a button. The wall
behind the pool slid open, revealing a dark, water-filled passage.

Homer’s leg began to tremble. “Slide the remote over here.”

Madame put the remote on the ground, then kicked it toward him. It slid right up against Homer’s foot. He reached down and his gaze left Madame for only a second. That’s when something barreled into him.

Splash!

Homer’s mouth filled with murky water. He fought his way to the surface and took a big breath. Mr. Twaddle stood at the pool’s edge, a smile on his face. He’d dropped the sword, but he’d managed to catch the reptile book as it had flown through the air.

“Get the girl!” Madame yelled.

The boat’s engine hummed to life, its propeller churned the water. Lorelei untied the line. Homer took a big breath and started to swim toward the boat. But just as he did, Mr. Twaddle broke into a run.

“I’ve got an idea, Homer,” Lorelei cried. Mr. Twaddle reached out and grabbed the boat’s railing, but he couldn’t hold on because Lorelei thrust the throttle into drive. With Dog howling from the stern, Lorelei took the steering wheel and the boat sped into the tunnel and disappeared.

“Lorelei!” Homer yelled.

S
he had an idea?
Homer thought as he treaded water, his thick coat weighing him down.
Of course she had an idea. Her idea was, I’m going to get out of here while I can!

There was no time to think about Lorelei. Homer expected, at any moment, to feel searing pain as Edith’s jaws ripped off his legs. He pumped his arms and started toward the tunnel.

If the other kids in Milkydale had asked Homer to go swimming with them in Frog Egg Pond, even just
one time, he might have learned how to swim. But they never asked and so he taught himself, right there and then, how to dog paddle. If you’ve ever dog-paddled, then you know that it doesn’t get you anywhere quickly. With his hands cupped and his feet kicking furiously, the tunnel’s entrance seemed miles away. Waves splashed against his face as the boat’s motor faded. Lorelei had made her escape. And she’d managed to steal Dog yet again.

“What are you doing? Let go!”

Homer glanced over his shoulder. Mr. Twaddle and Madame were fighting over the reptile book. Ajitabh’s sword lay forgotten at the edge of the pool.

“After all the dirty work I’ve done for you, I’ve got a right to the treasure map,” Mr. Twaddle said.

“You’ve no right to the map. You’re nothing. I’m a scientist and the daughter of Wilma von Weiner. You’re just a stupid legal secretary.” Madame kicked Mr. Twaddle in the shin and he kicked her right back.

As long as they kept fighting, there was a chance that Homer could escape. His arms burned as he paddled, his lungs felt like they might burst. Murky water splashed into his mouth. He coughed, struggling to find strength as the tunnel’s entrance drew closer. Edith was somewhere in the pool. Would she bite off his feet? Would she swallow him before he got to the tunnel?

“Urrrr.”

Dog paddled out of the darkness, his ears floating at the water’s surface like fallen leaves. Homer couldn’t believe it. He must have jumped out of the boat. “Dog,” he called, swallowing a mouthful of slimy water. Dog’s short tail wagged happily, sticking out of the water like a weird fish fin. They dog-paddled toward one another and as soon as Homer was close enough, he reached out to pat Dog’s head. Dog, however, didn’t stop for a greeting. He paddled right past, his eyes focused on something.

“GRRRR!”

Homer spun around. A ripple formed at the pool’s edge, then moved toward them at a steady pace. “GRRRR!” Dog doubled his speed, heading right toward the ripple.

“DOG!” Homer cried, reaching out to grab his tail, but it slipped from his hand. “NO! COME BACK!”

Mr. Twaddle and Madame, each clutching an end of the reptile book, spun around like crazy ballroom dancers. “Let go, you ugly shrew.”

“Over my dead body, you bald buffoon.” They pushed and pulled, spun and wobbled, their eyes bulging with greed.

Dog kept swimming. Worried tears stung Homer’s eyes. Dog was trying to protect him, but he’d surely get killed in the process. “DOG!” Homer screamed, his voice breaking with emotion. “Please come back.”

Suddenly, Dog’s ears twitched. He stopped swimming. Homer also froze as a large green head emerged from the water, followed by a long, green neck. Narrow eyes glared hungrily at Dog.

Dog pulled back his lips and showed his teeth. “GRRRR!” The mutant tortoise opened its mouth, wider and wider. Homer realized he was staring at the very creature that had eaten his uncle. Instinct told him to turn back around and swim toward the tunnel like an Olympian, but instead he swam straight for Dog. If he could just reach Dog’s tail, he could pull him away. At that moment it didn’t matter that Dog could smell treasure. Homer couldn’t bear to lose him. He had to get to him before… before…

And that’s when a roar filled the air. The red speedboat shot out from the tunnel at full speed, Lorelei at the wheel. The boat cut between Dog and the tortoise. Lorelei turned the wheel sharply, sending a huge wave into the lair. The force of the wave toppled Mr. Twaddle and Madame. The tortoise disappeared as Lorelei turned the boat again.

“Homer,” she called. “Hurry. Get in.”

Madame and Mr. Twaddle, still holding onto the book, struggled to their feet. Water covered the lair’s floor and dripped from Madame’s hair. “Let go!” Madame shrieked. And with a violent tug, she slipped in the water and fell
against the cobra tank. The tank slid off its stand and shattered on the floor. Mr. Twaddle stumbled backward. He tottered at the pool’s edge but then caught his balance.

“It’s mine,” he said when he realized that he was the only one holding on to the book.

Madame crawled away from the cobra’s tank, glass shards falling from her skirt. Her high heels had floated away. “Give. Me. That.”

Homer watched in agony as Mr. Twaddle held the book in the air. His uncle had died because of the map that was hidden inside. And now the bad guys had it.

“Homer, get in the boat!” Lorelei yelled.

“It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine,” Mr. Twaddle gleefully chanted, dancing a little jig.

Homer knew he had to let the map go. His life, Lorelei’s life, and Dog’s life were all that mattered. They needed to get into the boat and make their escape. He grabbed Dog’s tail. “Come on.”

“Noooo!” Madame cried. She stumbled forward, reaching for the sword, but Mr. Twaddle’s dancing foot accidentally kicked the sword right into the pool, where it sank.

At that moment, Edith the mutant tortoise reemerged. In one perfect, graceful move, she snagged Mr. Twaddle with her enormous mouth, then pulled him and the reptile book into the murky depths.

The lair fell silent.

Homer, treading water, began to tremble all over. Dog stuck his nose against Homer’s neck. “Urrrr.”

Madame began to sob, her head swinging from side to side. “She ate my map. My beautiful map. My beautiful treasure.”

The speedboat idled nearby. Lorelei flipped a little ladder over the side, then reached out her hand. “Come on.”

Homer followed Dog to the ladder, then gave his rump a shove. Once Dog was on board, Homer pulled himself into the boat, tumbling onto the floor. Daisy the rat squealed as he landed on her tail. Dog shook water from his fur. Lorelei tried to help Homer to his feet but he recoiled.

“You only came back because you wanted Dog,” he said bitterly.

“No, that’s not true. I needed to get up some speed so I could make that wave.” She tried to take his arm, but he yanked it away.

“You!” Madame cried from the pool’s edge. “You brats have ruined everything. Well, you’ll never stop me. I’m destined to become the greatest treasure hunter the world has ever seen.” She was so busy yelling at them, she didn’t notice the cobra sliding toward her foot. “I’ll get you both. If I have to spend the rest of my life tracking you down, I’ll find you and—”

“Watch out,” Homer cried.

Madame screamed as the cobra sank its fangs into her heel. She crumbled to the floor.

“She’ll die,” Homer said.

“So?” Lorelei grabbed the boat’s steering wheel. “She killed your uncle. She tried to kill us.”

“We can’t just leave her here.”

Lorelei groaned and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… fine.” She pushed the throttle forward and drove to the pool’s edge. Homer tied the boat to the mooring post. Fortunately, the cobra had slithered over to the vending machines. Homer grabbed the remote control from a pile of glass. “She weighs a ton,” Lorelei complained as they lifted an unconscious Madame into the boat. “Too bad the map got eaten.”

Homer couldn’t make sense of all the emotions that surged through his body. What he did know was that he didn’t want to talk to Lorelei—not about the treasure map, not about anything. He untied the boat. “We’ve got to get her to a hospital.”

The boat’s running lights illuminated the tunnel as they sped through. When a wall came into view, Lorelei slowed the boat. Homer pushed a bunch of the remote’s buttons, except the one marked
SELF-DESTRUCT
, until the wall opened. Then they drove out of the tunnel and emerged at a forested edge of City Lake.

Homer told Lorelei to drive to the nearest beach where they carried Madame off the boat and laid her in the grass. With her eyes closed and her face slack, she didn’t look so evil. But Homer knew better. He called 911 from one of the park’s payphones. He and Lorelei waited until the sirens neared, then they jumped back in the boat and drove to the center of the lake. Lorelei shut off the motor and running lights. Floating in the darkness, they sat quietly, watching as the paramedics put Madame into an ambulance and drove off.

Homer pulled Dog close. “I wonder if she’ll be all right.”

“Well, even if she survives that snakebite, she’ll get thrown in jail for stealing gems from the Cave of Brilliance,” Lorelei said.

“How will the police know that Madame stole the gems?”

Lorelei flared her nostrils. “I’ll snitch on her. There are a bunch of receipts in the lair from this guy who made all the fake gemstones to replace the real ones she stole. I figure it’s the least I can do. Just my way of thanking her for trying to get rid of me.” She petted Daisy, who lay curled on her lap.

Homer’s curiosity outweighed his anger. “Why would you work for someone like that?”

Lorelei turned away and looked out over the lake. “I
had nothing, Homer. You don’t know what that’s like. Mr. Twaddle found me in the library one day. I was hanging out in there ’cause I had nowhere else to go. I was reading
The Odyssey
and I told him that I liked adventure stories. He introduced me to Madame. She gave me clothes, she gave me spending money, she said I was going to be rich. She told me to pretend to be your friend and to get as much information as I could.” She hung her head. “I wasn’t pretending to like you, Homer. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.”

Homer didn’t say anything. She was telling him what he wanted to hear, wasn’t she? That’s what she did to survive.

She turned back. “I’m telling the truth. I’d like to be your friend again.” She reached under Daisy and pulled out a compass. “It’s yours. The one Daisy stole. She’s a pretty good thief. She managed to get it back when Madame wasn’t looking.” She handed the Galileo Compass to Homer.