Coffin Island (7 page)

Read Coffin Island Online

Authors: Will Berkeley

Tags: #school, #fantasy, #magic, #weird, #wizard, #experimental, #bizarro, #speculative, #dark wave, #hallucinatory

BOOK: Coffin Island
12.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

This wasn’t my first foray with the
wicked. My nanny was a goblin. She delighted in bobbing me for
apples. Bite that crab apple with your baby teeth she suggested as
she held me upside down by my ankles over the tin of crab apples
and ice water. It will build character later in life. Indeed,
treacherous goblin.

A character of sorts that comes back to
haunt you. An iron will hell bent for revenge that teleports after
tormenters across time and space. I was thinking this very thought
as I set my magical course. I went after my tormenters, the faculty
of The Coffin Island School for Witchcraft, with teleport. Here I
am. It’s Booster Boo. Do you remember me? I’m that guy that you
wrote off, dismissed and figured that you had tricked. Well, I have
terrific news for you. I’m back. And I’m really upset. How do you
like that?

The pirates in the bar looked shocked.
My body was slow to reappear. I held it back a bit. Why not get a
bit dramatic with your vengeful teleport? If you’re going to cross
time and space with an unpleasant message for your tormenters, why
not do it right? You need to hit those marks. Or perhaps it was
just my tone of voice which was harsh, Happy Halloween!

I was not pleased with The Coffin
Island School for Witches now that I was running it. Some changes
seemed in order. The cuckoo clock controlling time had really upset
me. A piece of trash nailed to the sun with an invisible finger
biting creature of the occult housed within it? How insulting. A
massive change of power was in order, if I was in fact the
Headmaster. It was time to test that theory out as well. Was I
truly the Headmaster of this disaster? The teleport that I had just
pulled off seemed to hint in the affirmative.

I also had to find out if I had any
real power behind the Headmaster title. Was the title merely
designed to bolster the spirits of the new arrivals? Perhaps it was
an honorific with nothing behind it but a few knowing giggles. Or
Professor Coffin might roar back at me with astonishing force and
finish me off. But I highly doubted that.

I figured everything on Coffin Island
was a test. I meant not only to pass the test but to destroy my
examiners. It just seemed par the course. How about I put you in
your coffin as part of graduation?

My examiners were toying with me.
Passing the library test had driven me deeper into the test. I was
now in-charge of the test? How about we change the course of the
test then?

“What do you have to say for yourself,
you costumed fool?” I demanded.


First you interrupted my
toilet in the doldrums,” Professor Coffin stammered as my
apparition fully materialized. “Now you are interrupting my rum
with The Red Lady with your rudeness? And you’ve implied that I am
in costume? How dare you? Who do you think that you
are?”


I am The Headmaster of The
Coffin Island School for Witches,” I said. “It’s real because I
have declared it. I’ve usurped your title.”


You’re chow,” Madison
said.


You can’t do that,”
Professor Coffin said. “Just declare your power. Steal my title.
Tell me that I am chow.”


I just did it,” I roared.
“I’m more powerful than you.”


That’s a bit upsetting,”
Professor Coffin snuffed. “We were just jollying you with the
Headmaster title. Are you sure you’ve got it?”


I’m positive,” I
said.

“What a rush,” Madison said. “That
teleport is just hells bells.”

“There are no pupils allowed here,”
Professor Coffin stammered. “The emerald ocean is strictly
off-limits to pupils. We can’t have them find Flint Rock or Gun
Rock. They’ll kill us all for all the abuses we’ve made them
suffer. We have to keep those armories hidden.”

The pirates in the bar looked alarmed.
Professor Coffin had just given away the position of the armories.
Madison was taking particular note. I could see her savoring the
concept of Flint Rock and Gun Rock. Two islands packed with
weapons. They sounded terrific to me too. Why not arm all the
students?

The teachers were finished. I was going
to collect all the weapons as soon as this interview was concluded.
I was planning on turning Coffin Island into a shooting gallery for
the pupils with the faculty as the targets. That was just for
starters. You want to upend everything on Coffin Island? Let’s do
it.

“How did you find the faculty lounge?”
Professor Coffin demanded.

“Where is Professor Coffin?” I
shrugged.

“Booster can teleport himself anywhere
on Coffin Island,” Madison said.

“He’s Headmaster,” Professor Coffin
gasped. “That confirms it.”

“I’m paying a visit to Flint Rock and
Gun Rock after this chat is concluded,” I said. “What do you think
of that?”

“Why can’t I teleport myself around?”
Professor Coffin demanded. “I need to get away from threatening
pupils like you.”

“You would abuse the power,” Madison
said. “Torment the innocent with your teleport.”

“How would you describe what you are
doing?” Professor Coffin demanded. “You’ve threatened to steal all
our weapons. And use them against us. I’m starting to wonder if I
was even Headmaster.”

“We’re faculty now,” Madison
said.


We took over the school,” I
said.


We’re supposed to get even
now,” Madison said.


I only refused to feed and
teach you,” Professor Coffin said. “And a few other things like
house you. You can’t be upset about that.”


You made the bathtub
coeducational,” Madison snorted.


It seemed like a good idea
at the time,” Professor Coffin shrugged.

“We’re going to punish you hideously,”
I said.

“If that’s all you’re going to do,”
Professor Coffin said with relief. “A commencement ceremony is in
order? Shall we graduate all the pupils from The Coffin Island
School for Witches? Perhaps it’s time for everyone to head off to
the next school on the emerald ocean. What do you say?”

“I think it might be nice to have the
faculty dig their own hole for commencement,” Madison
said.

“I’m not digging,” Professor Coffin
said. “I refuse to work towards my own graduation. Let education
chase after me. Education isn’t worth working towards. Let it hound
me like the devil himself.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I
said.

“We plan on hounding you,” Madison
said.

“The devil has plenty to do,” Professor
Coffin agreed. “I’m glad that you aren’t going to overwork that
horned beast.”

“We’ll dog you to death,” I
said.

“We got it covered,” Madison
said.

“Well,” Professor Coffin shrugged.
“It’s better than digging. Being dogged to death by my former
pupils? It sounds delightful. I’ve always wanted a few pups nipping
at my cuffs.”

“You’ll have a different attitude once
you’re caught,” Madison said. “We’ll rip you to shreds.”

“You can take that to the grave with
you,” I said. “I guarantee it.”

“We’re going to burn your coffin,”
Madison said.

“You don’t have to be nasty about
executing me for my crimes against the pupils of The Coffin School
for Witchcraft,” Professor Coffin said. “Not only do I admit my
guilt. I accept that I deserve a gruesome execution. I’m the one
that constructed the noose after all. You children must build the
gallows. String me up like a proper pirate. Get a pail of tar and
some feathers. That’s all.”

“Can you believe this?” Madison
asked.

“He taunts us to execute him,” I
said.

“We’re going to take the bait,” Madison
said.

“That’s for sure,” I said.

“Just not yet, pupils,” Professor
Coffin counseled. “You wouldn’t want to get stuck here forever. And
there is much wisdom for you to learn from the Grand Master of
Witchcraft, Professor Coffin.”

“What if we leave your corpse out of
the sun?” I asked.


No coffin for you, pal,”
Madison said. “We crucify you to the ground in some
desert.”


The wind will just blow
away your remains,” I said.


Sayonara Professor Coffin,”
Madison said.

“That’s how you outmaneuver The Grand
Master of Witchcraft,” Professor Coffin agreed. “But I am still
several steps ahead of you for now.”

“What have you done?” I
demanded.

“I’m not telling,” Professor Coffin
said. “That image of my remains blowing away in the wind is a bit
unsettling. I’m afraid that you will have to pay for that one. I’m
changing the course of your story now.”


You’re changing the course
of our story?” I demanded.


You know this journey that
you are on in The Coffin Island School for Witchcraft?” Professor
Coffin said. “It’s a story.”


We’re on a journey,”
Madison shouted. “And it’s a story?”

“He’s changing the course of it?” I
shouted.

“Don’t worry,” Professor Coffin
shrugged. “Witchcraft will take over after I make my
revisions.”

“Then it will take on a life of its
own,” Madison groaned. “Our journey is a story that is controlled
by out-of-control force of the occult?”

“I’m sure that witchcraft thinks much
more of itself than that,” Professor Coffin grinned. “Why else
would it torment you so? I’m merely the editor.”

“You’re about to get edited right out
of the frame,” I said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Professor Coffin
cautioned. “You will have to stay here forever.”

 

Chapter

 

What is the meaning of this story that
I am on? Why not look at the setting. The principal character,
Professor Coffin, is frankly too upsetting. So what do we have
here? Seeing as I may be stuck in this nightmare for the rest of my
life. Why don’t we take inventory, shall we?

The faculty lounge was a driftwood
shack on a tiny island in the emerald ocean. It was staffed by
creatures that looked like cheery goblins. Everything in the bar
appeared to have washed ashore including the patrons. It made sense
that The Coffin Island School for Witches seat of intelligence was
built out of driftwood and shipwrecked characters. How else to
explain the continuous drift?

Someone should drop napalm on this
deserted island. Send a bomber over it to identify the coordinates.
Let the shipwrecked individuals come running out with their flares
and signal fires. Their signals of distress constructed out of
rocks on the beach. The pirate fools. How little do they
know?

We weren’t on a rescue mission. We had
found it necessary to shift gears because we were in possession of
new information. We weren’t looking to rescue the faculty of The
Coffin Island School for Witches. We were trying to find their
hideout to destroy them. We weren’t seeking to save. We were
seeking to destroy now.

It’s curious how easily those gears can
shift. Let’s peer out the window and figure out where to drop the
bombs now instead of the food. But where exactly were we located?
How do you seek and destroy an enemy that you can’t even locate,
never mind pin down on map, so you can call in the bombers with the
precise coordinates?

Dump all you got. I’m pinned down here.
Roger that, but where are you, exactly? I have absolutely no idea.
Could you be a little more specific? I’m shipwrecked somewhere on
the emerald ocean. What’s the emerald ocean? It’s a magical ocean
in the land of witchcraft. That’s as specific as I can get. You
call back when you get a better location. Roger that.

The faculty lounge for The Coffin
Island School for Witches was just some rum shack that wasn’t on
the map? It was a drinking destination for the undisciplined
educators of this world? It must be interesting to see where they
published and wrote. So this is where the faculty turned out their
big thoughts? Their big thoughts were housed in a driftwood shack
in the tropics. Why not? If you’re going to make a mess of your
life you might as well have good weather.

I was thinking that the faculty of The
Coffin Island School for Witches might need to think a little
broader under my administration. I was considering prying them out
of this shack with hideous force now that I was Headmaster. They
weren’t going to drink and horse around under my administration.
These practitioners of the pirate lifestyle had hell to pay. I was
going to force them to teach at gunpoint. Flint Rock and Gun Rock
here I come. However I have to study these pirate fools first.
Learn their moves by rote so I can squash them.

The air was thick with cigar smoke and
alcoholic body odor. This was to be expected. The teachers were a
compendium of bad lifestyle choices. They were a cautionary tale of
what you did not want to become in life. Who wants to be a smelly,
old pirate that drifted around in the doldrums in a rum blackout
while neglecting his teaching duties for centuries? They were a
demonstration of all the wrong turns in life that an educator could
take. I aimed to right them for the wrongs that they had
perpetrated.

Other books

Cover Her Face by P D James
16 Sizzling Sixteen by Janet Evanovich
Jaggy Splinters by Christopher Brookmyre
Passing (Crusade) by Viguie, Debbie, Holder, Nancy
Murder Is Served by Frances Lockridge
In a Mother’s Arms by Jillian Hart, Victoria Bylin
Proud Beggars by Albert Cossery, Thomas W. Cushing