Jacob Wonderbar and the Cosmic Space Kapow (8 page)

“I agree,” Dexter whispered. “The quantum whatever thing seems possible.”

“He's lying,” Jacob said through clenched teeth.

Sarah shook her head and turned away from Jacob. “I want to go for it,” she said to Mick.

“I'll go if she goes,” Dexter said.

Mick Cracken looked at Jacob and beamed. “Well, well, well. Seems as if your friends are the smart ones. You shouldn't be surprised. I'm very persuasive.”

“Oh, jolly day,” Praiseworthy said. “How I love adventure. Master Cracken, I do wish you would find me a proper buccaneer flag to display. My fellow cruise liners would be so jealous if they knew what dangerous voyages I was embarking upon.”

Jacob couldn't believe that his friends sided with Mick and his stupid diamond instead of him. They didn't even care what he thought. He was billions of miles away from home. Billions. They had been gone for hours. But even those hours and billions of miles weren't as long and vast as the twelve years of friendship that had just been fractured by the appearance of Mick Cracken.

Jacob turned and walked away.

“Jake,” Sarah said.

But Jacob didn't stop. He could feel Mick's smile burning a hole in his back.

J
acob sat in the rear hold of Mick Cracken's ship, and as he often did when he was upset, he thought about his father. Jacob's dad was the type of person who was a little too much fun for his own good. He would always dress up like Sherlock Holmes with a crazy hat and wooden pipe on Jacob's birthday and give Jacob clues about where he could find his presents, although sometimes he would end up forgetting where he hid them. Everyone liked him because of his silliness, and Jacob grew used to hearing his friends and classmates say his dad was cool. Jacob really wanted to believe them, even though his dad had a special talent for turning ordinary events into catastrophes. When he took Jacob fishing in the mountains one time he ignited a massive lighter-fluid soaked campfire that quickly spread to a nearby bush, and Jacob had to help stamp out the flames. Only Jacob Wonderbar and a North Face sleeping bag stood between a fatherly mishap and a raging forest fire, but thankfully boy and camping gear were up to the task. They never caught any fish either.

Sometimes Jacob's dad would look at him like he was surprised that Jacob was there. It was as if he couldn't imagine that life had given him a small person who followed him around and depended upon him and had the same color eyes but different color skin and represented the one thing in his life that perhaps needed to be taken somewhat seriously. So while Jacob was too old and had seen too many movies to think that his parents' divorce was his fault exactly, he knew that he was a part of it. Not that he drove his parents apart because he was so much trouble to deal with, but rather he knew that his dad couldn't really picture himself being a dad. Jacob was a human-sized shirt that didn't fit. His dad looked at Jacob and saw a kid, and the presence of that kid made him an adult, and adults were people who grew old and died. Jacob's dad left his kid and ran away so he could go be a kid himself again. But knowing that didn't make it any easier.

Jacob didn't want to be like his dad, and yet he knew he had gotten himself into a mess that would make his dad's antics look tiny and inconsequential in comparison.

Jacob heard footsteps, and Sarah Daisy came around the corner. She tipped up her head a little in greeting and sat down beside him without saying a word.

They sat together a while, staring at the pink walls of the spaceship's hold, and Jacob thought about how long he had known Sarah Daisy. He remembered the time she hit him with a well-aimed rock when she was in second grade and the time she came over to his house, rang the doorbell, and quietly gave him a flattened four-leaf clover when she found out his dad had left.

“I know you're mad,” she said.

“I'm not mad.”

Sarah turned her head a little and looked at Jacob out of the corner of her eye.

“I'm not,” he said.

“Jake . . .”

“I'm happy for you guys. Go get your diamond. Whatever. I'll find my own way back.”

“Be serious,” she said.

“I am being serious. If you want to follow a demented kid pirate around the galaxy, go right ahead.”

“He's not a demented pirate.”

“Oh, excuse me, a demented
buccaneer
. And you clearly have Dexter wrapped around your finger, so you can both go and run off together.”

Sarah didn't say anything. She rubbed her nose and cleared her throat. “So just now, were you thinking about your dad?” she asked.

Jacob didn't say anything.

“I know you probably miss him a lot even though he's a total jerk for leaving you behind.”

Jacob stared at the floor. “Don't call him that.”

“Sorry,” she said. “But anyway, this diamond thing isn't about our friendship or whatever. I really don't know what to do. How else are we going to get home to see if everything's okay?”

Jacob just nodded, even though he didn't believe the diamond even existed. He had to admit that he didn't really know what to do either. They were quiet for a little while, and then Jacob pulled out a crumpled photograph and handed it to Sarah.

It was a picture of Mick Cracken in knee-high socks, black shorts, suspenders, and a top hat, and he looked like he was in the middle of a dance. The expression on his face was so sour he was clearly aware that he was wearing an outfit that probably would have gotten him kicked out of the Outer Space Buccaneer Guild.

“I found it in one of the storerooms.”

Sarah let out a high-pitched giggle, and then raised her hand to her mouth, wondering where such a laugh came from. Jacob flinched because usually when Sarah was embarrassed she found a way to inflict physical pain on him, so Jacob was surprised when she instead she just bumped him gently, shoulder to shoulder.

“You're a good guy, Jake,” she said.

D
exter Goldstein watched Mick draw a big spiral on the wall with a large black marker as a mechanical duck followed Mick around the room. Dexter was unimpressed by the creativity or talent reflected in the sloppy drawing, but he had to admit it lent a certain sense of earnest destruction to Mick's massive opus of graffiti art.

“So, uh, are you really from outer space?” Dexter asked.

Mick stopped drawing on the wall long enough to smirk at Dexter. “You really don't know where Astrals came from?”

Dexter didn't have time to answer because Sarah and Dexter returned to the cabin. Mick tried to pretend that he was still interested in his graffiti art, though Dexter could tell he was waiting to see what Jacob was going to say.

“All right, Mick,” Jacob said. “We're in. Let's go find this diamond.”

“Great goose's gold!” Praiseworthy said. “Master Wonderbar, I could not be more excited that you have chosen to embark on this voyage, I dare say a good gentlemanly camaraderie makes every adventure—”

“Ahem,” Sarah said. “Gentlemanly?”

“Oh dear me, Mistress Daisy, I didn't mean to exclude you, all I meant to say was that—”

“You don't think girls make good thieves?”

“The best thieves, Mistress Daisy, the best thieves,” Praiseworthy said quickly. “It's just that—”

“Well, well, well,” Mick interrupted, putting a finishing flourish on a stick figure making a rude gesture. “So the Dragon's Eye slays another. I knew you would come around.”

“Where is it?” Jacob asked.

“Oh, don't worry. I know where it is. I would just like to savor this moment.” Mick took a deep breath and smiled with his eyes closed. “Ahh. There. It's so fun hatching a plan. Especially when even your rival sees the genius in it.”

“It doesn't take a genius to chase after a diamond,” Jacob said.

“No? Maybe you would like to lead us to the diamond that you had never heard of until five minutes ago, and that you still at this moment have no idea where to find?”

Mick let the long pause stretch on.

“I thought not. Looks like I'm the leader. Reluctantly. It's not easy being the one with a vision, but it's a burden I choose to accept. After all, who was the one who stole seven out of the eight moons from Orion's belt?”

Dexter shrugged his shoulders.

“It was me,” Mick said.

Jacob couldn't wait to shut Mick up. “I really didn't want to have to do this.” He walked over to Dexter and showed him the photograph of Mick dressed up in his top hat.

Dexter spasmed with sharp laughter. He pointed at the picture in disbelief. “Oh man. You are so busted.”

Mick's face turned red and he started to walk toward Dexter, but Praiseworthy chimed in, “Master Cracken, I have some urgent news. The royal fleet is approaching, and there are a great many of them. I fear they are trying to encircle us.”

Mick ran out of the room. “Let's go!” he shouted.

Jacob, Sarah, and Dexter followed him into the cockpit, which was filled with video screens that provided a view in every direction of space. The ship's instruments were plated in gold, something even Mick didn't seem to have the heart to deface. Mick typed furiously into the interface and stared at the monitors, which were filled with ominous
X
's.

“They're everywhere. This is not good.”

Jacob looked out into space and saw red ships spaced at regular intervals, all of them bearing down quickly.

“Praiseworthy, evasive action Beta. Step on it!” Mick shouted.

Praiseworthy yelled a still-proper-sounding “Yee-haw!” and space seemed to blur a little as they accelerated. The ships quickly grew in size as they drew near but then flew harmlessly by as Praiseworthy easily left them behind, even though he still had the extra burden of towing Lucy.

“Wow,” Sarah said. “Praiseworthy, I didn't know you had it in you.”

“Oh Mistress Daisy, how it pleases me to hear you say that. Did I mention my rocket boosters? There really is nothing like them in the universe, and Master Cracken—”

“What can we do to help?” Jacob asked.

Mick pounded a few more instruments and kept his eye on the monitors. “Now that you mention it, you and Dexter could go into the rear gunner room. It has a red door. Go in there and fire some warning shots to keep them off our tail.”

Jacob nodded and they ran into the rear of the ship. They found the red door, which opened with a hiss. Jacob and Dexter stepped inside the small room, which had a small porthole for a window. The door closed with another hiss and they held on as the ship began to shake violently.

Dexter looked around. “The gun has to be here somewhere.”

Jacob grabbed Dexter and placed a finger to his lips. “Praiseworthy?” he said. “Can you hear me?”

Praiseworthy didn't say anything, and Jacob thought that he might be too busy escaping the fleet.

“I'd really like to hear more about your rocket boosters.”

Praiseworthy still didn't say anything. He was safely occupied. Jacob didn't have much time if he wanted to accomplish the plan he had just concocted.

“Dexter, listen. If Mick Cracken is the scariest buccaneer in the galaxy, who do you think those ships are?”

Dexter frowned. “Uh, the royal fleet?”

“Exactly. If Mick's the bad guy, they're the good guys! They might be able to get us out of this!”

Dexter paused to think about it. “I don't know about that. Mick may be a buccaneer and all, and between you and me I think he might have some mental issues, but he doesn't seem like that bad of a guy.”

“I don't trust him! You and I can take Mick. We can take control of this situation. Let's steal Mick's spaceship, turn him in, and go figure out what happened to Earth!”

Jacob was waiting for a rousing agreement, but instead Dexter was staring out the window into space.

“Dexter?”

Dexter leaned back and pointed at the window, his face suddenly pale.

Jacob looked out into space and saw Mick's ship and Lucy, still tied up with rope, receding into the distance.

“Is that ... Praiseworthy? Why would we be moving away from Praiseworthy? What's happening?”

In a flash, Jacob realized they weren't in a gunner room at all. They were slowly drifting through outer space, away from Praiseworthy and Mick and Lucy and Sarah and any hope they had of finding their way back home to Earth.

They were in an emergency pod. Mick had fired them off into the great unknown.

“I think we've been jettisoned,” Dexter said.