The Sea-Quel (12 page)

But there was something not right.

A funny feeling in my stomach. As if a load of millipedes were having a fight scene of their own in there.

CHAPTER 8

LIGHTS, CURTAIN, ZOMBIE!

People were starting to come into the hall and take their seats for the show.

I could see Mom at the back as I peeked through the curtain. She waved in that bigger than necessary, embarrassing way that only parents can do. Mrs. Kumar and Sami were there too. But not Pradeep. I guess he couldn't face coming.

I still had Frankie in the sippy cup. There was no sign of Mark now, but I knew he'd be back soon to run the special effects. I had to find a safe place to put Frankie. I looked around and saw that there were lots of red fire buckets full of sand backstage. I could dump the sand and fill one with water for Frankie. And if there was a fire, I could always scoop Frankie out and use the bucket to put out the fire. So technically it would still be a fire bucket. I put Frankie in a bucket and waited backstage to go on in my first-ever starring role. Everything was good.

So why couldn't I shake the millipedes kickboxing in my guts?

I peeked out from behind the curtain one more time and saw Pradeep slide into a seat next to Sami. He immediately looked up and shot me a look that said, “I've been a jerk. I'm really sorry. All the attention went to my head. This isn't your fault. Good luck as Robin Hood—you'll be great.” Then he gave me a double thumbs-up and added, “Oh yeah, and watch the arrows in Scene Three—they can be a bit tricky.” That was the biggest look-message Pradeep had ever shot me and I understood every single word.

Then I got it.

I stood in the dark backstage and thought,
I know what that millipede feeling is. It's my conscience saying that I'm a terrible friend.

Pradeep was my best friend. He had got the role of Robin Hood fair and square. I understood how he felt when everyone made him feel special, because it had just happened to me. My head had started to get a little bit big too.

I had to find a way to get Pradeep back onstage, and fast.

The lights went down and the opening music started. Then I heard two sounds that I never expected to hear together. I heard the sound of “Mwhahahaha, sucker!” coming from right above my head, and the sound of a fire bucket filled with water bumping across the floor.

Frankie had heard Mark's laugh and was after him to get revenge!

CHAPTER 9

ROBIN HOOD AND HIS ZOMBIE FISH

The audience started clapping and I could see the curtain swish as Mrs. Flushcowski walked in front of it to center stage.

“Thank you, everyone, for that spontaneous eruption of applause,” she said.

I shook the image away. I had to concentrate. Mark and Frankie were both backstage somewhere, which meant only one thing. Trouble!

“I would like to announce that we have an esteemed guest with us this evening. From the hit television show
Talent or No Talent,
judge and creator Solomon Caldwell!”

The audience applauded again and I could hear a voice from the audience mumbling, “Thank you, thank you. It's a pleasure.”

“Now, without further ado,” said Mrs. Flushcowski, “I give you
Robin Hood
.”

The curtain rose and the lights came up on the stage to show me and some Merry Men stick-fighting.

Then Merry Man One said, “There is a group of rich travelers approaching. Shall we let them pass or make them pay?”

“Their jewels will buy food for the starving poor,” I said. “Let us hide. They won't see us in all this fog.”

That was the cue for the backstage crew to start the smoke machine. Fake fog rolled onto the stage. I looked over and saw Mark standing by the machine with an evil grin on his face.

The kids dressed as rich travelers came out led by two kids dressed as a horse while the Merry Men and I hid behind some cardboard trees.

While the travelers and the horse were saying their lines (yes, even the back end of the horse had more lines than the baker), I looked around to see if there was any sign of Frankie.

In the audience, Sami was bouncing up and down in her seat in the classic way kids all over the world let you know that they have to go to the toilet.

Pradeep got up to take her and they went out the back.

I heard my cue—the line that comes before mine in the play: “I guess that villain Robin Hood isn't about!”

We all jumped out from behind our trees and stood in front of the horse.

“You shall not pass until you give us all your gold!” I shouted.

Then my eye caught a glimpse of white from the side of the stage. Mark was putting on his white Evil Scientist lab coat. He was up to something, but what?

“The sheriff will know of your treachery, Robin Hood,” the rich traveler said, and handed me a bag of chocolate money.

I looked past the offstage traveler. Mark took a test tube out of his pocket and poured some liquid into the smoke machine. The fog started to get thicker and thicker.

“I only rob the rich to give to the poor,” I said, coughing, and handed the bag to one of the Merry Men. “Take this to the village.”

By now I could barely see the Merry Man to hand him the bag. The fog was rolling out over the audience too. I put my hat over my mouth and nose and held my breath. Then I noticed the rich travelers and the Merry Men were all falling asleep onstage. I looked out into the audience. They were all fast asleep too. Some of them were even
snoring
.

I dropped down low to the floor where the air was clearer. I remembered that from our fire safety drill. But I never thought I'd have to use it to avoid sleeping gas!

CHAPTER 10

SWEET DREAMS, EVIL PLANS

Mark was wearing a small gas mask that he had pulled out of his jacket pocket.

He walked onstage and looked out into the audience.

“Result!” he said, but in a mumbly way so it sounded like, “Meesulmt!”

“What did you say, Mark?” I said, but because I was talking through my Robin Hood hat it came out like, “Muut mid moo may, Maak?”

“Mang om,” he mumbled, and stepped backstage to turn off the smoke machine. Then he picked up some of the cardboard that the cast had used to fan the air for the rope-swinging scene and wafted the fog away from the stage and out into the audience.

“I
said,
‘Result, moron,'” Mark said, taking off his mask. “That should be enough sleeping gas to keep 'em out for a bit.”

I slowly took the hat away from my mouth and took a cautious breath. It seemed safe now. “Sleeping gas? Why?”

“I needed to—” Mark started to say, but I interrupted.

“You needed to knock them all out so they wouldn't stop you from getting Frankie?”

“No, I—” Mark started again.

“You needed to knock them out so that you could somehow make them all be your zombie fish slaves like when you tried to zombify the whole school last term?”

“Been there, done that,” Mark scoffed.

“You needed them all unconscious so you could take over their minds and make them
all
go after Frankie?”

“No, but that sounds cool. Maybe next time,” Mark said.

“Then why?”

“Duh? I needed to knock out Solomon Caldwell. The rest were just for fun. They do all look pretty stupid now that they're snoring and drooling.” Mark did his Evil Scientist laugh. “You and the other moron gave me the idea with all this Robin Hood stuff you've been doing. Rob the rich—Solomon Caldwell—and give to the poor: me.”

“I don't get it. You're going to rob Solomon Caldwell?” I said. “What are you going to take?”

“I'm gonna get him to make me the winner of
Talent or No Talent
. Then I'm gonna take the prize money. Easy.”

“So your evil plan before wasn't to ruin the play? Or to kill Frankie?” I asked.

“No,” Mark mumbled. “I can't kill the fish yet. I still need him. I caught him and was trying to tie him up out of the way in the rigging when I accidentally knocked down Pradeep's stupid rope and dropped the moron fish. Still, it was pretty fun to see your moron friend get the blame.”

Mark grabbed my wrists and tied them behind my back with some patented Evil Scientist wrist ties from his pocket. I really don't know why Mom keeps letting him order stuff from that Evil Scientists-R-Us catalog. “I gotta get on with my evil plan now, ya know, before everyone wakes up.” He grinned.

“I don't get it. What do you need the money for?” I said.

“I need a lair,” Mark said.

“A lair?”

“An Evil Scientist lair where I can have, like, a shark tank or a pit of crocodiles or something. Every Evil Scientist has got to have a lair. Mom won't buy me one, so I've gotta find the money some other way. It's her fault really,” he said.

“But even if you get on the show, you're not gonna win. What's your talent?”