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Mutant Bunny Island #2 Page 5


  I showed the page to Juliet.

  “Look, Eel-mo gets kidnapped, but it was actually Eel-mo that set it up.”

  “So, your uncle thinks Lady Beatrice and Bouncer planned it?”

  “Of course,” I said with excitement. “That’s why the cops got there so quickly. Bouncer probably called them before it even happened.”

  Rain came into the room eating a banana covered with jam.

  I grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

  “There wasn’t anything else to eat.” He took a big bite and chewed loudly. “Have you figured anything out?”

  “I think Zeke was trying to tell us that the kidnapping was a fake.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Why would they want to do a fake kidnapping?” Juliet asked. “I mean, what good is it for her to be gone? And why does she want your uncle in jail? And where did the giant bunny come from?”

  “Well, Zeke said she didn’t like him. Maybe this whole thing is just to get back at him.”

  “So do we need to bust him out?” Rain asked. “The police station’s pretty old. We could drive that squid car into the walls and knock them down.”

  “Squidmobile,” I corrected.

  “It doesn’t matter what you call it,” Juliet pointed out. “We’re not breaking anyone out of jail.”

  “Should we go back to Lady Beatrice’s house and snoop around?” I suggested. “I’m not bad at snooping.”

  Rain pointed to the bedroom window that looked out over the backyard and garden, and we watched in silence for a moment as the sun set over Bunny Island.

  “I’m not sure that heading to that part of the island right now is a great idea.”

  A glowfish went off over my head.

  I looked at Juliet. “Do you know how to bake?” I asked with excitement.

  She put her hands on her hips and bit her lower lip. “Why, because I’m a girl?”

  “No, because I don’t.”

  “I can bake,” Rain volunteered.

  I should have known that. Rain’s mom, Flower, ran the Liquid Love Shack, and she was really good at cooking disgustingly healthy things. I had once seen her make a plum-and-tomato pie. It made sense that some of her gross skills would rub off on Rain.

  “Excellent,” I exclaimed. “To the kitchen! To save Lady Beatrice and clear my uncle’s good name—”

  “By baking?” Juliet asked.

  “Yes, my squid, by baking!” I proclaimed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SECRET INGREDIENT

  It took way longer than I had hoped to bake what we needed. Rain knew what he was doing, but we didn’t have all the ingredients. He had to run home to get what we were missing. He forgot the baking powder, so Juliet went to the neighbors’ and got some.

  I needed him to bake a nice cake that looked good. He did a small test cake, and after we devoured it he baked another larger one. When it was done, I added the secret ingredient, and then we frosted it with green icing. Juliet drew a white flower on top and added some pink sprinkles.

  We stared at the cake as it sat on the counter.

  “That looks amazing,” Juliet said.

  “Yeah, Rain. You should bake more often.”

  Rain was covered in flour and frosting and tried to not look overly proud.

  It was too late to put my plan into action, so both of my friends went home, promising to be back tomorrow morning. After they were gone, I left the house and walked to the phone booth at the edge of the neighborhood. Nobody was using it, so I stepped inside and dialed my home number.

  After one ring, my father picked up.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “Hello, Perry. I know you just left, but the house seems like an empty wheat field.”

  My father loved growing things and reading The Old Farmer’s Almanac. He also loved talking about fields and seeds and wheat.

  “I miss you, too, Dad.”

  “How’s Zeke?”

  “He’s . . . okay.”

  “Nice. I tell you, growing up with him I never thought he’d turn out to be the person he is. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s good stock.”

  “Right, about that . . .”

  “I remember when we were kids he used to smear pudding from his lunch box on my seat in the school bus. Then when I got to school, it looked like I had . . . well, like I said he’s a little rough around the edges. Are you getting ready for the Rabbit Jamboree?”

  “It’s Carrot Con, and sort of.”

  “Remember, ‘sort of’ is sort of lame.”

  “Right. We had dinner with some fancy rabbit lady tonight.”

  My father gasped. “Lady Beatrice?”

  I was surprised. “You know her?”

  “There are books written about how she and her husband brought the bunnies to that island. Your uncle sent me one that I read a few years back. He used to work for her, you know. I’m surprised she let you come to dinner. According to Zeke, she doesn’t care for him.”

  “I think that’s true. She—”

  “Let’s not think the worst of people,” he interrupted. “She did invite you over. Maybe she’s had a change of heart.”

  “Actually, she was—”

  “I think it’s neat those two are getting along.”

  “But, you don’t—”

  “Exactly,” he said not letting me get a word in edgewise. “You don’t really know a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.”

  “I hate walking.”

  I wanted to tell my dad about Zeke being locked up, but since he wasn’t letting me I decided to wait until the morning. There was nothing he could do and no reason to worry him tonight. I figured I’d get some sleep and put my plan into action in the morning. If that failed, I could try to fill my dad in.

  “Hate is a strong word,” he said. “I’d hate for you to miss out on something just because you were afraid of a little walking.”

  I wasn’t sure how the conversation had gotten to where it was, but I decided to steer it back to something less dumb.

  “Thanks for letting me come, Dad.”

  My father sniffed. “You’re welcome. I’m proud of you. A few months ago, you wouldn’t even leave your room. Just be safe, and listen to your uncle.”

  “That’s my plan,” I said.

  My father said a few more fatherly things. He also threw out a grain-related pun.

  “I sure think you’re pretty wheat.”

  When we were done talking, I hung up and returned to my uncle’s house to get some sleep. I wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but I was sure it’d be a long day and that I needed to be like Admiral Uli in Issue #17, when he had to play tag with a herd of puffer fish—ready for anything!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PASSING OFF THE CAKE

  I woke up at eight the next morning and put on my Squid Squad T-shirt and some green cargo shorts. I filled my pockets with anything I thought I might need—candy bars, my limited fishdition squid goggles I had bought online a year ago, and the new mask I’d made out of another glove and rubber bands. What didn’t fit, I put in a backpack along with a dozen water bottles and a flashlight that was lying on the counter in the kitchen. Stocked and ready, I headed out to pick up my friends.

  Yes, friends.

  I don’t know why I repeated that; it’s probably because I’m still getting used to having real ones. Sure, Rain was kind of a half friend, but Juliet, for sure, was a whole one. That probably explains why I picked her up first.

  I arrived at her house at exactly nine o’clock. The Squidmobile was charged and ready for adventure. Juliet came out of her house looking excited and dressed for the occasion. She had on blue leggings and a white tank top over a pink shirt. Her hair was teased up, and her lips were frosted like an ’80s rock star. She looked like she was ready to just have fun. She hopped on the Squidmobile.

  “Are you worried?” she asked.

  “I feel a bit inky,” I admitted.
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  Juliet looked at the backseat and saw the cake sitting there.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t eat it last night.”

  “I thought about it.”

  I drove the Squidmobile to Rain’s. It took a few minutes, but eventually he came out of his house, wearing a red tank top and white shorts. He looked bored, which made him seem even cooler.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he told us as he got on the cart. “I have other friends, you know.”

  Juliet and I just stared at him. I pulled away from his house and drove past hordes of Bunny Mooners and Carrot Con visitors.

  “Look at all these tourists,” Rain mumbled. “I could be making major bucks taxiing people around on my bike.”

  “Yeah, but what we’re doing will be much more exciting,” I pointed out. “And we have to clear my uncle’s name.”

  Rain looked at the cake on the seat next to him.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “All of this seems like a bad idea.”

  “A lot of my ideas are questionable,” I admitted. “But as Uli said once, ‘Where there’s a krill, there’s a bay.’”

  “That makes no sense,” Rain said.

  “It wasn’t one of the better issues.”

  “You know, when I was younger I used to like the Marcus Money comics,” Rain admitted. “That little rich kid was amazing. But then I grew up and stopped thinking about Marcus and his Money Buddies. Maybe you should give the squid thing a rest.”

  “Admiral Uli could destroy Marcus Money,” I informed him.

  Rain looked beaten. “Again, I’m not sure this is the best way to spend my day.”

  “Only one way to find out,” I said as I pushed the gas pedal to the floor and we zipped up the stone path, swerving around a few booths and large groups of people.

  “There’re so many people here for Carrot Con,” I shouted. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I know.” Juliet sounded excited. “The talent show is going to be packed tomorrow. If I win, I’ll probably have to travel off the island and do my talent somewhere else.”

  “You mean your ventriloquism?” I asked as I swerved around a patch of black rabbits.

  “Yes.”

  Rain moaned.

  “What?” Juliet said defensively. “It’s a talent.”

  “Not really,” Rain argued. “Do you have a dummy?”

  Juliet looked hurt. She crossed her arms and didn’t speak.

  “Sorry,” Rain tried. “I just don’t like the dolls. Those ventriloquist dummies freak me out.”

  “When I was younger, I wanted to be a ventriloquist,” I admitted. “My dad even made me a dummy. But I couldn’t talk with my lips closed. It was just like mumbles.”

  Rain laughed. “What was your doll’s name?”

  “Knotty John.”

  Now Juliet was laughing, too.

  “Because he was made out of knotty pine wood,” I said defensively.

  We pulled up to the police station and skidded to a stop at the cement block front steps. The station was actually just an old cement building that had been around for years. It was built to withstand any tropical storms. It had large open windows with no glass in them and scraggly scrub bushes all around it. On top was a flagpole with the Bunny Island flag flying on it.

  I parked the Squidmobile and picked up the cake from the backseat. We all walked into the building together, trying not to look nervous.

  “I hope this works,” Juliet whispered.

  “If it doesn’t, we’re no worse off,” I whispered back.

  “They could lock us up for trying to aid and abet a felon,” Rain said.

  “Yeah, sure, there’s that—but we’re kids,” I argued.

  “Yeah, kids who are trying to sneak something in to a prisoner,” Rain told me.

  I know Rain was just being his usual obnoxious self, but his concern did make me a little nervous. As we entered the building, my hands were shaking while they held the cake. There was only one police person behind the counter. She was a woman with deep brown skin and bleached hair. She had on a green shirt and green shorts just like Rolly wore. Her name tag announced to the world that she was Melanie. She didn’t notice us when we came in as she was trying to swat a bothersome fly. Because there was no glass in the windows, the room was breezy and buggy. A few rabbits slept in the shadows near the back door.

  We stood in front of the counter, letting her finish off the fly. It took three more tries before she killed the tiny, buzzy beast.

  “You don’t come into my house and think you can mess with me,” Melanie said aloud.

  We weren’t sure if she was talking to the dead fly or to us.

  “What?” she asked. “What do you kids want? Is that a cake?”

  “It is,” I said, acting as spokesman for our group. “We made it for my uncle. He’s in your jail.”

  “Zeke?” she asked with a smile. “Zeke’s your uncle?”

  We all nodded.

  “Well, he’s behind that door. We don’t get a lot of prisoners. In fact, if he weren’t here, I’d be out helping set up Carrot Con or looking for Lady Beatrice.”

  “So, do you know when Zeke will get out?” Juliet asked.

  “I know a lot of things, but Rolly said Zeke took his aunt’s wallet, so we have to keep him here until we find Beatrice and she can press charges.”

  “He didn’t take her wallet,” I insisted. “It was planted on him.”

  “You kids are so cute” was all Melanie had to say about that. “How about you let me have a piece of that cake before your uncle has some?”

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  “It looks really good.”

  “It’s for my uncle.”

  Melanie looked at us out of the corner of her eye. She scrunched up her face and scratched her head as if a thought was trying to work its way into her brain.

  “I don’t know if I should just let you give Zeke a cake. I saw a movie once where some people baked a saw into the cake so that a prisoner could saw his way through the bars and get out.”

  I gulped. “There’s no saw in this cake.”

  “We promise,” Juliet added.

  “Well then, you won’t mind if I have a piece.”

  Before I could stop her, she took the cake from my hands and set it down. She found a letter opener on the counter that looked like a small knife and began to push it into the cake.

  My heart stopped. Juliet started to sweat.

  I was about to blurt out what we had hidden in the cake when she suddenly stopped cutting.

  “Wait . . .” She looked at each of us. “Does this cake have gluten in it?”

  I looked at Juliet and then over at Rain.

  “Why?” I managed to ask.

  “Because I can’t eat gluten. Swells my ankles up and makes me hard to be around.”

  “Well, that’s what we were trying to say before. There’s a lot of gluten in it,” Rain spoke up.

  “Tons,” I said. “I added extra because I know my uncle likes it.”

  “Shoot, then I can’t have any.” She pulled the letter opener out of the icing and pushed the cake back to me. “I guess you can give it to your uncle. He’s in the cell behind that door.”

  Melanie nodded to a door behind the counter and waved at us to follow her. I picked up the cake and did just that. Juliet and Rain walked right behind me, not saying a word. I was sweating, but I was always sweating on Bunny Island.

  Melanie opened the door and we all walked into a small space with a wall of metal bars to the right of it. Behind the bars were a couple of wooden benches hooked to the wall and two cots. Sitting on one of the benches was Zeke. He was alone and surprised to see us.

  “Hey, Zeke,” Melanie said in a very friendly manner. “You’ve got visitors.”

  My uncle stood up and half smiled. He looked like a caged tiger that knew he was beat. Melanie let me hand him the cake. After he took it, she shut the door and went back out front, leaving us alon
e with my uncle.

  “We made that cake for you,” I said slyly.

  “Thanks, I’m starving.”

  “You’ll have to eat it with your fist because we didn’t bring you a fork.”

  “I love fist cake.”

  “Eat it carefully,” I whispered while winking at the same time.

  “Are you okay?” My uncle looked concerned.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “I just think you should eat it . . . carefully.” I winked again.

  “Okay, I will.” Zeke now looked confused.

  “There’s something extra inside,” Rain said softly.

  “Oh.” Zeke had finally caught on. “Then I’ll definitely bite down . . . carefully.”

  “When do you think they’ll let you out?” Juliet asked.

  “I don’t know.” Zeke sighed. “Rolly didn’t act like it would be anytime soon. When we got that invitation, I thought that Beatrice was no longer mad. Now I can clearly see that she still is.” Zeke looked around his small cell and growled. “I didn’t take her wallet.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Juliet said.

  “She’s so the worst,” I said passionately. “She served us squid. And I think you’re right about Issue #3. She kidnapped herself and now she’s trying to ruin you.”

  “I think Bouncer’s in on it as well,” Zeke whispered. “He’s done everything she said for the last thirty years. They want to cause some drama or ruin the Carrot Con. I really do have to get out of here.”

  “Just eat your cake,” I told him. “And you might not be free, but we are.”

  “Until four,” Rain told us. “I forgot to say, but I’m supposed to help my mom set up her booth for the Carrot Con.”

  “And I think you three should wait until I’m free and able to help you.”

  “Squids have a hard time waiting,” I reminded him. “We’ll just do a little snooping.”

  “You are good at that,” my uncle admitted. “Just don’t do anything your dad wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Okay, just make sure you eat your cake.”

  I winked once more, and he looked even more worried.

  “Is your eye okay?” he asked.