Crissy looked out her window, happy to once again be back home and overlooking the lagoon which waited right outside her back door. Somehow, this was even more enchanting that the beautiful beaches of Hawaii. Maybe because it was more private. This was a lush paradise exclusive to Crissy and Roger, which made it far more special than even the picturesque tropical location Crissy had stayed in for the previous weeks. It had been an eventful trip to Hawaii, and the return home seemed far more relaxing than the visit to the youngest State in the republic. Crissy wandered back into the bedroom, where her husband Roger was content to just stretch out in their bed. He hadn't even bothered to remove his jacket and shoes. Crissy smiled.
"Most people relax on their vacations more than they do at home."
"It's always good to get back home." Roger didn't even open his eyes.
"Sounds like we're going to be extra thankful this Thanksgiving." Crissy curled up next to Roger and played her fingers through his chest hair. This activity made Roger open his eyes slightly as he smiled at her.
"Every day is Thanksgiving for me, Cris. You have no idea how grateful I am to be your husband."
"Oh, I have some clues," she said playfully as she snuggled into his side, "but I'm the one who's grateful. I got a man who's one in a million, I'm sure of that." Crissy looked dreamily into nothing as she continued to play her fingers across Roger's muscular chest. He chuckled.
"You know, this will be our first Thanksgiving together as man and wife."
"Say, that's right." Crissy sat up and mulled over the significance of what Roger had said. "Should we spend the day with your family or mine?"
"You're the only one who has a family to spend Thanksgiving with."
"You don't have any uncles or anything?"
"No. The only living blood relative I have is Roxy. She'll be spending the holiday in the pen."
"I hadn't thought of that." Crissy sighed as she lay down again. "I feel sorry for her."
"After what she tried to do to you?" Roger's eyes were now fully open. "I knew you were forgiving, but I guess I never expected this. Not really."
"Whatever has a hold on her, it isn't the real her, I'm sure of that. Mala came to her senses. You yourself said that you had fallen into whatever it is before you met me."
"Yes." Roger thought about it as he looked at the ceiling. "Roxy seemed to get the worst of it. It may take longer for her to break free." His eyes returned to his wife. "I haven't thought much about Roxy since the trial. She said she never wanted to see me again as she was taken away. Your concern for her is very uplifting."
"If you ever need a pick-up," Crissy smiled as she pushed herself up and looked into Roger's eyes, "just remember that the girl you married is a cartoon rabbit with the maiden name of Carrots." Roger laughed. Crissy sat up again and reached for a cigarette. "Seriously, though, Rog. I think you should visit Roxy on Thanksgiving. Maybe if she knows you still love her, it'll help snap her out of whatever has her in it's grip."
"Okay. You may have something. I'll swing by the prison after I drop you off at your folk's house, then I'll come back for a real Thanksgiving dinner with the Carrots. By the way, just how did your family end up with such an ironic name?"
"You can blame that on a great-great uncle of mine. When he came to America, he thought it would be a better name than Carrotokowitzkey. I can't argue his logic. Carrots sounds silly, but it's easier to say!"
"Easier to put on a business sign, too." The Carrots name was quite a familiar sight in Creek Bend and it's surrounding towns. With the whole clan gathered together for Thanksgiving, the resemblance to rabbits would be on full display. Could Crissy's parents really fit everyone into their house? Maybe a quick visit was the best option, but Crissy looked forward to holiday reunions with her family. It was really the only time she preferred to be around large groups of people. Roger would be there for her, he just hoped he wouldn't lose her in the crowd!
Roger arrived outside the prison building, but sat in his car for a while before actually walking up to the door. As he came near, he was surprised to see Mala stepping out. She was just as surprised to see Roger. Mala took a step back when she saw him, sure he wouldn't be overly happy to run into one of the women who attempted to murder his wife. He paused, too, unsure how to handle the situation. He took a breath.
"Hello, Mala."
"Roger." Mala felt extremely timid. She knew Roger as a kind, warm-hearted man, though, and his tone conveyed none of the anger Mala expected. It was going to be difficult figuring what subjects to bring up in conversation. Fortunately, Roger started.
"How's working for Ed and Misty?"
"It's wonderful. They really make me feel like I'm normal again."
"From what they've told me, you completely are."
"You've talked to them about me?"
"Absolutely. Whatever happened before, I still care about you. You were my best friend growing up. Now you're working for two of the best friends I have now. The subject was going to come up. From everything I've heard, you're doing very well. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, Roger, but I had nothing to do with it. Everything that's happened since, eh, the incident, has been entirely the grace of God. That's one reason I came to see Roxy today, because I know there's hope for her, too."
"So you spoke to her?"
"No," Mala sighed, "she refused to see me. The Warden says she's only gotten more violent since I got out."
"If we only knew what this condition was. Roxy was always so sweet as a kid. Playful, even mischievous, but sweet." Roger sighed. "Do you think she'll see me?"
"I don't know," Mala shook her head, "as much as she hates me right now, she may hate you more." Mala caught herself, she hadn't intended to be quite so blunt. "What I mean is, well..."
"I know what you mean. Roxy became increasingly proud after I got back from the Army. I know she sees my marrying Crissy as some sort of personal affront. I know she probably never wants to see me again, but Cris and I both thought it might do her some good to know that we're still thinking of her."
"I think it will. Maybe not all at once, but it'll be a hint that she means something to other people. I came for the same reason. What she needs is some hope to hold onto. If she hangs onto that rage, it'll kill her."
"I'm so happy to have you back to normal, Mala. I hope we can still be friends."
"I would really like that. Having your ear for all those years, it made a difference, I think. I was pretty happy as a kid. After what I did to Crissy, though, I figure it best to keep my distance. At least for now."
"I can't fault your logic, Mala. I'm sure I'd feel the same in your place. Just know that if you ever need anything and you think I can help you, my door is open." Mala breathed deeply, releasing a happy sigh as she smiled at Roger. Roger extended his hand. Mala shook it. Both of them had the instinct to hug each other, but refrained. It was too soon, but there was the hint that someday it would be the right thing to do. They parted on friendly terms, which meant much to both of them. It gave Roger a little confidence he lacked before, and he walked inside the building.
As could be predicted, Roxy refused to see Roger. The Warden himself told Roger the bad news. Roger nodded quietly. Maybe next year they could meet on friendlier terms. Still, Roger dug into his pocket and produced some cash. He gave it to the Warden and told him he wanted it spent to have some flowers placed in Roxy's cell. Roses. She always liked white roses. The Warden promised to carry out Roger's wishes. Maybe it was best that Roger had gone long before Roxy got the flowers. He wasn't there to see her rip the flowers apart and stomp on them before breaking down and sobbing into her bunk. The Warden actually felt this a pretty good turn of events. Her crying offered a glimpse of heartbreak rather than her usual rage. It was a small token, but it promised there might be something left in her heart besides ice.
Beverly parked her car at Davy's house. She turned to Jeannie, who was sitting next to her in the passenger seat.
"You're sure," Beverly made doubly certain, "Mom and Dad said it was okay if I spent Thanksgiving with Davy instead of the family?"
"Of course," Jeannie smiled, "they think it's a wonderful thing for you to do."
"Thanksgiving is one of the few times a year the family is all together," Beverly looked toward Davy's house, "I don't want to turn my back on my family, but I feel it's really important for me to be here instead. This is Davy's first Thanksgiving without his father. I can't imagine what that's like. I just really have to be here, Jean."
"Believe me, Bev," Jeannie rubbed Beverly's shoulder reassuringly, "we know exactly how you feel. Dad wanted to invite Davy and his mother to our gathering, but he knew this would be better. If you and I join Davy's family for Thanksgiving, it may help make the day a little easier for everyone that knew his dad."
"There aren't as many cars here as I expected. It must be a smaller family than ours. A lot smaller. I love that kid, Jean. I want him to have the best holiday he can."
"Then we'd better go on in." Jeannie smiled. Beverly smiled in return and nodded. Before the girls could make it up the walk to the door, little Davy came bursting out. The grin on his face as he ran toward Beverly was almost too much for either girl to stand. Jeannie had to choke back a tear as she watched Beverly crouch down and tightly hug Davy. This was going to be a very special Thanksgiving.
At the Carrots home, Roger entered to find the house filled with cartoon rabbits milling about. This same crowd had attended his wedding to Crissy. Roger wondered just how they had all managed to fit into the tiny chapel in the first place. Crissy caught sight of Roger and ran to greet him. She pulled him aside to a relatively private corner.
"How did things go with Roxy?"
"They didn't. She wouldn't see me. I ran into Mala there. Roxy wouldn't see her, either."
"I'm so sorry, Rog. It must hurt to be treated like that by a family member."
"Oh, I'd say the worst of it was gotten out of the way a long time ago. By the time, eh, of the, er, incident, when I had to part company with Rox, we'd already grown apart. I haven't really had time to lament the loss of a sister, I've been too focused on the joys of gaining a wife." Crissy smiled and cuddled his hand against her cheek.
"You've gained a lot more than that. Dad wants you to sit next to him at the head of the table."
"Really?"
"His highest honor."
When the entire family had somehow been packed into the dining room and seated around the biggest dining table Roger had ever seen, Crissy's father stood to carve the turkey. Before raising his implements, he addressed the group. A professional speaker could not have made a better address.
"We've come to another Thanksgiving. It remains my greatest joy that we all understand what this day is about. As those pilgrims did so long ago, we give thanks to God for His provision, protection, and prosperity. And this year we are abundantly blessed by the arrival of new members of the family. Little Cindy down there, the blushing bride of my nephew Clarke. Marilyn, my new grand-daughter celebrating her very first Thanksgiving. And perhaps the face that stands out most at a casual glance is this young man seated next to me. I haven't known Roger long, but all I need to know is that twinkle in my daughter's eye when she looks at him. She never ceases to express a dreamy sparkle of love so deep that it should inspire epic poems like those of old. Her evident happiness just to be his bride is all I need know about a man who has risked all many times over just to secure her safety. Roger, before I cut into this bird, I would be honored if you would lead us in saying grace."
Roger hesitated for a second, so moved by the words of Mr. Carrots. Then he nodded and stood as the others bowed their heads.
"Father, we thank you for this time together, for this wonderful meal, and for every blessing we may sometimes take for granted. The touch of a loved one, the blessing of living in a country where we needn't fear persecution for expressing our beliefs, or fear those to whom we grant authority. We are blessed, and we thank you. We thank you for the covenant you took with our founders, and for their example. For freedom and prosperity which you have given us, for your Son above all. That in He and He alone we stand before you in perfection, regardless of the mistakes we have made. Thank you that in His blood we are clean, not based upon our efforts but in His perfection. In His precious and perfect name, Amen."
HAPPY THANKSGIVING
FROM THE
CARTOON CUTIES!
Julie stood at the bedroom window and looked at the sky. It had been so long since she had been able to look at the stars at night, or see a clear sky after sunset. This was wonderful. She turned to see Clete stepping out of the washroom, wearing his nice suit. He certainly stood apart from Julie, dressed as she was in a grass skirt and a blouse tied off above her middle.
"We're going to a luau, Clete, why the suit?"
"This is the first social function we've had a chance to attend in months. I thought I'd take advantage of the situation and dress up a bit. I haven't had occasion to wear my suit since we left the coast."
"Well," Julie slinked over to her husband, "you do cut a dashing figure. I'm sure I'll have the best-dressed man at the party on my arm!" Clete actually thought he looked rather casual, his jacket unbuttoned and foregoing a necktie. When the pair reached the luau, this became evident when they saw the Boss was wearing a rather snappy suit himself. His wife was dolled up in a fantastic evening gown. In his business, the Boss learned early on that impressions are everything. He looked the part of an industrious leader, which made it more effortless for his friends to come to him if they had any issues he could help them with. It was as much for function as it was for show.
His employees remained more causal about the whole affair. The stars were an assorted lot. Misty had come from society and so dressed the part in a knockout dress, accessorized with her ever-present string of plastic pearls. Most of the other girls were dressed similarly to Julie. Some were content to wear their Creek Bend bikinis to the party, accessorized with leis and flowers in their hair. Minerva particularly liked to dress comfortably, which in Creek Bend meant pretty light covering whenever possible. Although tropical, Hawaii lacked even Creek Bend's omnipresent humidity. Before too long, Minerva actually felt a little cool dressed only in her tiny bikini. This situation was quickly solved by her joining in the native dancing. This developed into a full show, as Minerva's unfamiliarity with the dance steps became more and more obvious. She finally began faking ineptitude as she was getting laughs for her missteps. Although she didn't know the hula, Minerva was a fine dancer and was able to expertly execute a planned fall which looked like a real trip into the musicians. This she used as a chance to lead the musicians into a tune which would let her sing a song.
During the whole thing, the Boss kept notes. Had his cameras been set up, this would have been a hysterical one-reeler. But the movie was finished and this was fun time. Still, this was too good not to have Minerva re-create the whole thing the next night. A planned performance would lack the freshness of this spontaneous event, but it was too good not to try it a second time. This would make a brilliant climax to the picture.
Watching from the bushes was Donald and his gang. They eyed Dr. Noyman as Denny pointed him out. The scientist was seated next to Crissy, who nervously eyed a bowl of poi. Noyman noticed.
"Something wrong with the poi, Mrs. Ralphwit?"
"I wouldn't know," Crissy passed the bowl along to Noyman, "I'm just not ready to go that Hawaiian." Noyman scooped out a sample and nodded approvingly.
"Very good."
"I'll take your word for it, Doc. I really can't bring myself to eat what looks like wallpaper paste with my bare fingers. It runs counter to everything I was ever taught about good manners, to say nothing of how it looks."
"It's really quite good. I'm sure you can get away with using a spoon if you wish."
"I'll pass, but thank you. I guess my tastes are dictated by the mainland." Noyman laughed. Donald made sure his henchmen Sawyer and Jenkins knew their target. Sawyer noticed how chummy Noyman and Crissy were being.
"What about the rabbit, Boss?"
"What about it, Denny? You said the Doc had an assistant. Is that her?"
"Could be. There was talk about a girl named Julie being in the lab. That must be her."
"Alright," Donald said, "we can't make a move with all these people around. We'll put the snatch on them in the morning."
The sun was just coming up as Sawyer and Jenkins snooped around the window to the Ralphwit cabin. The window itself was open but the curtains were drawn. Sawyer cautiously stuck his head inside and pushed aside the curtain. He then turned back to Jenkins to make his report.
"She's in there. That big wolf must be her husband, because he's in there too. What'll we do?"
"They're both asleep?"
"Yeah."
"Do you think we can get the girl without waking up her husband?"
"Only if he's a deep sleeper."
"We'll use the chloroform."
"You better use it fast. I get the feeling this guy could rip our arms off if he had reason to. Snatching his wife is a pretty good reason."
"Don't worry, this stuff works a lot faster than you see in the movies. If we can get in there without waking either of them up, we can keep them out and it'll only take a second." Sawyer nodded and the men slipped into the cabin. Now standing over Roger, Jenkins could see what Sawyer was talking about. If this guy got mad, there would probably be nothing short of a gunshot that would slow him down. Jenkins urgently dabbed chloroform into a cloth. Sawyer made ready to collect Crissy, but getting to her nose and mouth would be more difficult since she was sleeping on her stomach. He made ready to pull her head up and slip the cloth in place. The two men looked at each other and nodded. Roger sensed someone in the room and opened his eyes just as the cloth was about to cover his nose. Although he quickly succumbed to the chloroform, he was still able to strike Jenkins and send him to his knees.
Crissy was wakened by the commotion, as it temporarily distracted Sawyer before he grabbed Crissy's hair and lifted her head. In a few seconds, she was likewise out cold. Jenkins gasped as he returned to his feet.
"Who is this guy?"
"Maybe the Doc wanted some muscle around, just for cases like this."
"He's got a punch like a bull." Jenkins was still shaking off the attack, but he took another breath and pointed at Crissy. "Grab the rabbit and let's go."
"Right." Sawyer paused long enough to grab a robe for Crissy, since she was dressed only in her undies. Jenkins shook his head as Sawyer stuffed Crissy into the robe before lifting her off the bed.
"We're trying to kidnap somebody and you're taking the time to be a gentleman."
"If somebody put the snatch on my wife, I'd want them to do the same."
"Alright, alright, let's beat it before this guy wakes up again."
Close by was Noyman's cabin, though it was less ornate than the honeymoon cottage Mr. Mallen had given to the Ralphwits. Noyman was already up, used to working early hours in the lab. This came as an unexpected turn for Donald and Denny as they crouched outside the living room window.
"What do we do?" Denny whispered. Donald mulled it over before fishing out a revolver from his jacket pocket.
"We get what we came for." Donald was about to move when the two heard Noyman walking toward the window. Across the way, the scientist could see Sawyer and Jenkins carrying unconscious Crissy toward a station wagon. Noyman gasped and started to yell for help, but his efforts were cut short by Donald standing up and holding the gun at the ready.
"Not a word, Doc. Just come with us. Or else the girl dies." Noyman immediately agreed to save Crissy's life. Fortunately, he was already dressed and took time only to slip on his shoes before Donald herded him into the station wagon next to Crissy. It was about to look like a clean getaway until Roger burst out his door wielding a Wydmark rifle. Fortunately, he was wearing his pajamas. Sawyer didn't wait for Donald's urging to move out. Roger took aim but feared hitting Crissy. Instead, he fired a shot into the air. Clete, also used to working early hours, was on scene a second later as Roger as starting up one of Mallen's company jeeps.
"What goes on?"
"Some men took Crissy! Looks like Dr. Noyman is with them, too!" Clete jumped into the passenger seat as Roger roared off after the wagon.
"What's this all about?"
"I have no idea."
Up ahead, Denny looked out the back window. Donald stuck himself out the rear seat window and took aim. He fired off a couple of shots. Roger didn't slow down. Donald turned back to Jenkins.
"Radio the field and tell them to get the plane warmed up. We've got to make this fast!" Although Sawyer managed to pull well ahead of Roger's jeep, it wasn't far from the landing strip and Roger was able to keep tabs on the offenders. The gangsters managed to get Noyman and Crissy aboard a twin-engine cargo plane before Roger was able to turn onto the tarmac. In a minute, the plane would be aloft. Roger stopped the jeep just long enough for Clete to take the wheel. Now standing in the passenger seat, Roger leveled his rifle at the plane.
Inside, Crissy was coming to as she was being strapped down. Noyman was already strapped into the seat next to her.
"Dr. Noyman? What on earth is going on?"
"I don't know, Crissy. These men haven't had a chance to tell me why they've kidnapped us."
"That's simple enough," Donald waved his revolver at the pair, "you came up with a killer plant and we want the secret."
"You can't be serious," Noyman protested, "that experiment was a complete failure."
"That depends on what you do with it. You've created the perfect weapon without realizing it. Once we get that secret out of you, we're going to make a bundle off it."
The plane began moving.
"What about Mrs. Ralphwit? What do you want with her."
"If she's not your assistant, that's too bad for her." Donald pointed the gun at Crissy's head.
"She's my assistant."
"I'm his assistant."
Clete pushed the jeep as hard as he could, running up alongside the plane. Roger took aim at the engine nearest them.
"I don't think that's gonna work," Clete warned, "we don't have enough runway left for a shot like that!"
"Maybe you're right." Roger adjusted his aim and fired off a series of shots at the tire under the wing. The gangsters inside had just enough time to wonder what Roger was up to before the wheel blew out and the gear collapsed under the wing. Clete pulled back as the plane crippled and slide to a stop. Clete then drove up to the hatch. Roger jumped out of the jeep just as Donald's men jumped out and moved for him. Roger swung the rifle like a club and knocked the wind out of Sawyer before slamming him into Jenkins. Swinging the rifle back the other way clipped Denny in the head. Clete stayed with the men as Roger ran to the hatch and leaned into the plane. Donald was on the floor, but he fired a couple of shots at Roger, who ducked out of the way. Crissy and Noyman were helpless as they sat strapped into the seats next to Donald, who was getting back to his feet and pointing the gun at Crissy's head.
"Throw down the rifle or I blow a hole in the bunny's head! You hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear you." Roger complied and dropped the rifle to the tarmac. "The police are on their way, you know. Once this action on the runway started, the tower had to call them."
"I got time." Donald thought furiously for a way out of this. Difficulty was added when the pilot grabbed Donald from behind and held the gun away from Crissy. Donald still managed to fire off a couple of shots which went into the fuselage. Roger dove into the area behind the seats.
"Give up, Mr. Donald!" The pilot pleaded as Donald struggled. "It's over, and I don't want a murder on my plane. I'll already lose my license over this, don't make it worse!" Donald managed to break an arm free and elbowed the pilot in the gut. He fell back and Donald readied to empty his gun on him. Roger had managed to get Crissy free during the struggle. Now he was leaping for Donald before he could pull the trigger. Although Donald was knocked off his feet, Roger failed to make his tackle and ended up landing on top of the pilot. Crissy pulled loose of her seat and kicked the gun away before Donald could make good his shot.
Furious, the gangster backhanded Crissy and sent her flying over the seat. Roger was really mad now. Donald was victim of a proper tackle this time, and he was being crushed in a bear hug. Donald put up a good fight, though, and used his head to butt Roger's face. Stunned, Roger fell back. Crissy had returned to her feet and executed a high kick that landed in Donald's face. Donald fell back into Roger's grasp.
"Stop fighting before I kill you!" Roger warned. Donald was still in so much of a rage that he ignored the advice. The click of a hammer managed to bring him to his senses, however. Noyman stood over the scene, aiming the revolver at Donald's head. Donald finally gave up and collapsed. Within a few minutes, the entire gang was bundled in a cargo rope and waiting for the police to arrive. The sirens could be heard approaching. Clete smiled, as it meant he could soon put down the rifle. Roger shook Noyman's hand while he cuddled Crissy in the other arm.
"I can never thank you enough, Doc."
"Just be glad he didn't call my bluff." Noyman opened the chamber of the revolver. "I kept score. He fired all six shots. Two at the jeep while on the road, two at you in the doorway, and two more in the fight with the pilot. He was out of bullets." Overhearing this, Donald was dumbfounded. He would have collapsed had the other men not been tied to him. Roger and Crissy exchanged a bemused look.
After that, the rest of the Hawaiian vacation was pretty uneventful.
THE END
Crissy and Roger relaxed on the beach as their friends set about snapping off the rest of the footage they would need for their movie. Now under the safety of being docked, the lifeboat scene was filmed. The angles had to be changed to disguise the location of the shoot, but the operation went well. The next day would have the production moving inland, based on the Mallen Pineapple Plantation. At Minerva's insistence, even the Ralphwits would be staying here during the time they were in the Aloha State.
The Boss finally had a chance to arrange a private screening of the footage of Crissy's song. Only he, his wife, Roger, and Crissy were in the room. Crissy indeed looked good on film, and her voice came through beautifully. Roger was struck by how good the film was. He nudged his wife and whispered to her.
"You may not like hearing this, but you look really good on the screen. The camera loves you, and you look so natural."
"I've spent so long avoiding this," Crissy shook her head, "I really don't want to be a star."
"What if you agreed to act in little bits here and there, but never as the headliner?"
"This is just a song I was singing for my friends. I may come off less natural if I'm trying to act."
"After seeing this, I think you might give it a try. Whatever you decide I'll go along with you, but I can see now why the Boss is so keen on having you join the club." Crissy was sort of wide-eyed as the film unspooled. Her impromptu performance looked entirely professional. The casual viewer might easily think that Crissy had been singing professionally for years. As the clip ended, the Boss moved to the projector as his wife turned the lights back on. As he readied the film for rewinding, he smiled at Crissy.
"If you want me to, I'll make a gift of this film to you. We won't use it if you don't want us to. It's a good reel, though, I think you'll agree."
"Yes it is," Crissy was overwhelmed, "I don't know what to think. I've been turning you down for years, but now that you have some film of me, and it looks so good... What would you do with it if I gave you the go ahead?"
"Since it was shot as part of the show on deck," the Boss began rewinding the film, "my intention would be to use it in the picture as one of the musical numbers. We could just have you in there as an un-billed guest singer."
Crissy leaned forward and looked at her feet. She weighed what this step could mean and how it might change her life, which was at this moment so perfect. Roger placed a reassuring hand on her back before turning back to the Boss.
"Say you do just that. What happens after the picture comes out?"
"I'm sure the audience will like Crissy. I'm sure they'll want to see more. If she's game, I'd have her act out a scene for a screen test. If that goes well, she could do bit parts in a few cartoons until she gets comfortable enough to take the spotlight."
"That's the part that has me hesitant," Crissy spoke up, "I've never wanted to be in the spotlight. My ambitions have always been more intimate. I really want nothing more than to be Roger's wife. That's already a dream-come-true. I can't think of anything I'd add to what I already have." The Boss nodded, understanding Crissy's position. So did his wife, but after seeing the film even she was convinced Crissy had a future in pictures.
"Believe me, Crissy, I know how you feel. I'm happiest when I'm alone with my husband, too. I've done a few bit parts, though, and I think you can do something like that without ruining the harmony of what you already have. These movies, cartoons and the like, they entertain people. I know that doesn't sound too important, but sometimes it makes a real impact. Someone going through a rough time, sometimes what pulls them out of their funk is remembering something they saw on the screen and smiling about it."
"You make it sound like charity work."
"Well, maybe not the way we think of charity work, but there is something awful nice about making people smile. It gives you a nice feeling, like maybe you've done something good for someone without them or you ever knowing it."
"That's one of the best reasons for making pictures," the Boss chimed in, "and too many actors forget that. They make it about themselves, not their fans. One of the reasons I wanted to run C.B.I.P. the way I do is to keep it geared toward the audience, not the actors and producers. You have the sort of sweet, selfless nature that I want on my team. That's really the main reason I've always wanted you to be a part of this. You know how better milk comes from contented cows? I've always believed that better movies come from good people."
Elsewhere on the plantation could be found a self-confessed glory-hog. Beverly wandered through pineapple patches with her sister Jeannie, who thrilled to observing the intricacies of the farm's production from start to finish. Beverly did think of herself as a bit of a spotlight-grabber, and history had certainly proven that to be the case. That's one reason she stuck so close to Jeannie. Jeannie always kept a level head, saw the bigger picture and was exactly the sort of selfless, put-the-audience-first type the Boss delighted in hiring. Beverly wanted to be more like her, knowing there was no real future in living for oneself. Ironically, while Beverly saw herself as the swelled head of the group, those around her seldom noticed it. They knew her to be as sweet and selfless as her sister Jeannie. The main difference was that Jeannie was more proactive about helping people, finding new ways to lend a hand and seeking out those hands that needed hers. Beverly was more reactive. When she saw someone she could help, she always did so and gave of herself in ways she never would have considered under normal circumstances. She could be self-interested as anyone, but when her attention was pulled to someone who needed her help, Bev never hesitated.
What Beverly hated about herself was that tendency to put her own needs first, or at least the belief that she always did. She could be pretty selfish and knew it, and figured everyone just played along with her to keep her happy. As a kid, that was fine, but she wished she could be more automatically selfless, the way Jeannie always was. Jeannie could see Beverly more deeply than she herself did. Yes, her sister could sometimes grate on her, but Jeannie knew the best thing to do was ride it out until Beverly had a chance for her true nature to shine through. A bit of it had shown prior to their leaving for Hawaii. Beverly wanted to take Davy along for the trip, but knew it would be impossible because the kid had school to attend. Beverly had gotten really close to Davy, and went out of her way to bring some joy into his life. Jeannie could see this, but Beverly couldn't. Despite her efforts to please Davy, Beverly noticed only her tendency to please herself. Beverly had a heart of charity she was completely oblivious to.
As the Baxter girls walked along the plantation, the natural beauty of the island was so picture perfect that they continued to pause and drink in the details. The breeze was warm, the sun bright, the people so kind. Creek Bend was a paradise in a sense, but this was really paradise in the ultimate. There was only a two degree temperature difference between the extremes of summer and winter, and you had to be a native to even feel it. This was as close to Heaven as one could find on earth, one would have to think. That impression was shared by the others. Minerva walked her friends Daisy, Wendy, Doris, and Yvette through the canning factory. One advantage of this trip was an abundance of free pineapple samples. Yvette in particular was enjoying that, having sucked down more of the fruit in the two days they'd been on the Mallen plantation than she had her entire life before.
Still, the main draw of a Hawaiian visit was the beach. The Boss made sure to get the rest of the film completed quickly so his crew could truly enjoy the beautiful surroundings. Yvette finished her scenes first, and was first to be standing on the beautiful white sands. She looked out to sea longingly, but hesitantly. What a place to be, but for a girl who hadn't yet learned to swim it was less pleasant than it should have been. She was content to stay on the shore, but she wished she could dive into the inviting waters. She dared not, though. She was getting the hang of her swimming pool back home, but the rolling waves were a bit too much for her to get too close. She kept her inability to swim secret from the others. Only Doris really knew. And there was a girl who knew how to enjoy the water. Swimming, surfing, Doris seemed to've been born in the surf. Yvette couldn't help but envy her friend as she watched Doris riding a wave on Hawaii's signature sporting equipment.
Yvette had tried to learn to swim in her pool before the trip, but still hadn't progressed beyond a dog paddle. She felt pretty silly now. All that ocean before her and unable to take advantage of it. The Hawaiian experience could be enjoyed in other ways, however. Misty was taking hula lessons, and had hooked Sugar and Daisy into joining in. Meanwhile, Dr. Noyman and Clete discussed the less dangerous aspects of their experiments with Mr. Mallen, in terms of ways to produce larger pineapples. The conversation had to include mention of the more radical theories which resulted in the cultivation of dangerous plant life. Unknown to those involved in the discussion, this was overheard by one of Mallen's truck drivers.
That night, the driver arrived at a seedy bar along the coast. In the back room was a dapper fella of criminal persuasions, engaged in a pool game with a couple of flunkies when the driver entered the room.
"Mr. Donald," the driver kept his hat in hand, "I just learned of something that could be worth big bucks to the right party."
"Alright," Donald cooley chalked his cue, "does this have anything to do with the actors staying at your boss's place, Denny?"
"Not directly. When they showed up, they had a scientist with them. One of his experiments got out of hand and had to be destroyed, but I think it might have some value in the right hands."
"Why does a movie company have a scientist with them?" Jenkins, one of the flunkies, asked.
"They picked him up on an island after their ship had trouble. But get this, he was working on ways to make plants stronger. He ended up creating a mobile, carnivorous plant that nearly killed him."
"So?" Donald took a shot.
"You had me staking out Mallen's niece, thinking she would be a good snatch for ransom. This Noyman guy is an even better snatch. If we can get his secret, think how valuable a killer plant could be. It would make the perfect murder weapon, one that could never be traced back to the guy who ordered the hit. Tell me that wouldn't be worth plenty to the right party."
"It's an interesting idea," Donald paused to mull it over, "shows some talented abstract thinking. It could be very valuable to the right men... Okay, tell me everything you know about the guy."
TO BE CONTINUED...
Doris Flowers and Wendy Marco walked along the deck of the Conqueror. It was a beautiful, sun-drenched day which ran counter to the general listlessness of the ship and those aboard. With the ship unable to move and the studio crew unable to work, and all thoughts focused on those friends missing at sea, there was a sense of useless waiting which blanketed the vessel. The Boss and his wife leaned against the railing at the bow, looking out to sea. The Boss took a final drag from his cigarette and tossed it overboard before he felt a tug at his shirt. Doris, already diminutive, seemed even smaller and more helpless than usual. Her squeaky voice, normally so perky, seemed tired as she asked if there had been any word of the rescue of her friends. The Boss shook his head.
"We'll hear something the minute they've been rescued," he explained, "radio is the life-line to ships at sea. If something happens, like a rescue, it doesn't take long for all of them to know about it."
"I hope they're not in that open lifeboat still," Wendy watched the waves, "hopefully they've landed on an island or something."
"I can't stand this not knowing much longer." Doris seemed on the verge of tears. The Boss knelt down to look her in the eye, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I know what you're going through, Doris. They're your friends. I probably feel it more than you do. You know, you, Yvette, Minerva, Bev and Jean, all of you, you're more than friends to me. Ask my wife. I think of you all as my daughters, or at least my little sisters. You know there's nothing I won't do to get our friends back safely." Doris pulled close to his arm, pushing her forehead into his shoulder. He hugged her as his wife looked on. She could see what he had done. He made Doris feel better by letting her know that it was worse on himself, that whatever she was going through, he was going through it moreso. And Doris knew this was a man who would never give up, no matter the odds. Wendy smiled before looking back to sea.
On the island, Julie pointed the attention of Bev, Jean, Yvette, and Daisy to a map hanging in the radio room. Tracing down the coordinates from last night's mayday, Julie stuck a pin into the map to show the position of the Conqueror.
"The ship is about here, from what Clete wrote down, and our position is right here."
"That looks so close," Beverly noted, "we may be just over the horizon of each other!"
"Just about," Julie confirmed, "but not close enough. We could send smoke signals if we were closer, but at this distance, all they'd see is a cloud on the horizon."
"Do you think they were in the storm last night?" Yvette asked.
"No," Julie was certain, "they probably saw only the edges of it in the distance."
"This is crazy," Bev paced, "here we are practically next door to each other and yet we can't communicate!"
"Clete and Steve are doing everything they can to get the back-up generator going," Jeannie insisted, "just have patience."
"We're on a time limit, Jean," Bev crossed her arms, "we have to evacuate before tonight's storm moves in. Last night's storm produced the lighting bolt that killed the backup generator. We can't waste time here. We gotta get word out, get clear, and then send in the Marines to blanket this island with incendiaries to make sure not a trace of Doc's little experiment makes it off this island."
Outside, the others looked on as Steve and Clete monkeyed with the back-up generator. Clete nodded to himself as he inspected a pair of wires.
"What do you think?" Steve asked.
"It should be up and running before too long. Within the hour, I hope." Minerva and Dr. Noyman inspected the foundation of the house, to make sure nothing from the lab had been able to escape. Noyman stopped to light a cigarette.
"It's ironic. I wanted to develop a plant which would be resilient enough to withstand anything it was subjected to. Now I pray everything was destroyed and unable to reproduce itself."
"You had good intentions." Minerva tried to comfort him. "You were trying to help people. You still can, even if this experiment didn't work."
"How many disasters result from good intentions? We continue to think that we can control creation by our own hand, rather than accept our stewardship over same was meant to be Divinely guided. I was trying to improve upon a situation which was created for a purpose. The desert and the life therein has it's order. I neglected that order."
"But you learned what a mistake it was before it could do any damage. I can see the Boss when we tell him about it. He'll want to make a movie out of it, I'm sure."
"Better that way," Noyman smiled, "something to entertain. You came to my island at just the right moment. The Divine order I spoke of is fully on display. A volcano, a shift in current... I have no doubt that we'll get out of here and look back on this whole episode in wonder." Minerva nodded in agreement before turning to rest against the wall of the building. Noyman shared his cigarette with her. Minnie sighed.
"I want to get word to our friends, let them know we're alright. We've been too busy to really think about it, but they've been stuck in one place with nothing much else to do but think about it."
"I'm confident Clete will get the generator fixed. I wish I could be sure it will be early enough in the day to afford our evacuation from this island before nightfall."
Julie carried a plate of sandwiches out of the main door and brought them to the gang huddled around the generator. "With no power," she explained as she placed sandwich halves into napkins for the men to handle them, "I figured we'd better eat the perishables." The other girls marched out behind Julie and took a position near Steve.
"A fine idea," Clete wiped the grease off his hands before carefully taking the sandwich his wife held out for him, "I've been working so hard I forgot that I was hungry." Steve looked to the girls who had assembled behind him. Their expressions were almost identical, a visible curiosity about the status of the repairs.
"I think we should be finished soon," he reported, "but with the Conqueror crippled, we won't be able to do much else than let them know we're alright. Unless there's another ship in the area now, we'll probably have to stay here for at least one more night."
Back on the Conqueror, Crissy sat at the bow of the ship. Hanging onto the railings, she was letting her feet dangle over the side. Roger relaxed close by, but he remained fully on the deck as he watched his wife and chuckled to himself. In a way, Crissy was still just a kid. She bubbled with the vitality of youth, and every new experience was a moment of wide-eyed discovery. Yes, she possessed a wisdom which was at times beyond her years, but it was tempered with a child-like enthusiasm that Roger hoped Crissy would never lose. Even now, with things as they were, Crissy seemed to be enjoying herself by just being alive. And really, that was enough. Such a close call can put things back into perspective, and it made perfect sense that Crissy would be grateful to just be where she was. To feel the warm sunlight, the ocean breeze as it wafted around her toes, the warm caress of Roger's hand on her back. Whatever had happened in recent days, this moment was one of joyous intimacy. Every breath was a gift, and Crissy always kept that in mind.
The calm on the deck was shattered by the Boss speaking over the loudspeaker. As news of the rescue of the castaways bellowed across the ship, there was an eruption of applause from all hands. On the bridge, the Boss checked a map with Captain Talbot.
"They're close," Talbot said, "so close I feel more helpless now than I did before."
"When's help due to arrive?"
"We got word from a cargo ship that'll be in our area tonight, but not soon enough to evacuate the island before tonight's storms set in. If the intensity is like what they reported last night, they shouldn't attempt leaving that house until tomorrow."
"At least we know they're safe. Better to have shelter than try to ride it out in that little lifeboat."
"We can all relax, at least. Really relax now."
On the island, the mood was similarly relaxed now that contact had been made and the generator was working. Daisy looked at the clear skies, awed by how much the weather could change on a regular basis here. In the house, Clete and Steve cleared the sand away from the metal door down to the lab. Noyman was curious to know what, if anything, had survived. They had to be sure it was all over before leaving. As the door was swung open, it was evident that the stone stairway had been blackened by the smoke and heat. It was quiet down there. The men took up flashlights and moved down into the stairwell as Beverly and Jeannie looked on.
The lab was completely destroyed. Everything had been singed black, the tables reduced to piles of ash. The fire had burned with enough intensity to melt the control banks which would never be able to be salvaged. Clete nodded as he looked around.
"Looks like we got everything, Doc."
"Maybe not." Noyman reached down and sifted through some ashes. Small seed pods were pushed into view. "The experiment was too much a success. We destroyed the plant but it found a way to live on. These seed pods may be indestructible if they survived the fire that caused those instruments to melt."
"They can be ground up and incinerated again," Steve offered, "just make sure we find them all."
"I can't get over the irony," Noyman closely inspected one of the pods, "I achieved what I wanted to and now I pray the results never get out. I feel a bit like Frankenstein."
"Can we find them all?" Clete looked around. "Miss just one and this island will have to be quarantined forever."
"We'll go over the room with a fine-toothed comb," Noyman rolled up his sleeves, "we'll even check the cracks in the masonry to make sure the plant didn't shoot any spores that might've gotten embedded in the rocks."
Minerva and Yvette took a spot on the roof next to Daisy and Julie. The storm clouds were beginning to form. Daisy shook her head.
"Storm clouds made to order," the mousette mused, "and with regular timing. This island will make a good research base for studying meteorological events."
"Whoever lives here next is welcome to it," Julie leaned back, "I never want to see another electrical storm as long as I live. Imagine four months steady of this sort of thing."
"We have it good in Creek Bend," Minerva rested her chin on her knee, "it's hot and humid, but it's regular. We hardly notice the winters. We've had the occasional electrical storm, but even those are pretty rare. It's easy to take for granted that the rest of the country has to put up with change of seasons that includes severe cold of the kind almost unheard of in our area."
"I may talk Clete into moving to your town if that's the case."
"To be fair," Yvette chimed in, "the humidity has it's drawbacks. Although, it's better to put up with than a lot of other things, I must admit. Sometimes it's easy to take for granted that we live in a paradise."
Resilient as the seed pods were, cutting one open was easy enough. Inside were mounds of tiny black seeds. Clete placed one of the seeds on a plate of metal before placing a matching plate on top of it. This he used to hold the seed in place and carry it over to a vice as Steve locked it into place. Clete began turning the wheel as Steve, Noyman, and the Baxter sisters looked on.
"I wanted you to see this demonstrated yourself," Clete said, "I saw it the first time I wouldn't believe it if someone else had told me. My first thought was that we could crush the seeds, but take a look at this." After pressing the plates together, Clete removed them and carried them back to the table to pry them apart with a screwdriver. A perfect indentation had been made around the seed, while the seed itself was untouched. Stever inspected one of the plates, the outline of the seed visible to the girls next to him.
"Stronger than steel...," Steve mulled over the problem, "we know they can withstand heat. What about extreme cold?"
"That's a thought," Clete said, "we have liquid nitrogen we were using for coolant on the lightning collectors." Noyman nodded and Clete made for the canisters. Beverly and Jeannie stood by, each with slightly different reactions to the experiments. As the plants proved increasingly hearty, Bev found the situation increasingly troubling. Jeannie respected the gravity of the situation, but remained fascinated by the process of it all. While she would never call herself a scientist, Jean did possess an aptitude for the work. She had a technical mind and was often a help behind the scenes at the studio. Even with her smarts, however, Jeannie's tendency to be a bit scatterbrained ruled out any serious research work. Still, the process always held her interest.
As Noyman dipped one of the seed pods into the liquid, he prayed the experiment would prove fruitful. It would seem it did, as the pod was pulled back into sight and evidenced wear. The object was dropped into a beaker, shattering into a thousand splinters as it did. The seeds that exited the burst pod were now white in color. Noyman pushed an instrument down into the beaker and crunched one of the seeds into powder. He sighed and smiled. "We've done it."
In short order, all the seeds and their pods had been subjected to freezing cold and reduced to lifeless powder. This was incinerated until the ashes were gone. The danger was over. For the first time since the night before, Noyman was relaxed. All were in good spirits, despite the gloomy weather which had fully settled over the island. In fact, the girls even put on a little show right there in the main hall. Each did a solo number as Julie played the piano for them. Then they did a couple of songs as a group.
Something similar was happening back on the Conqueror, as the news of rescue had lifted everyone out of their funk. The deck was alive with lights and music as Sugar Chestnut did a number with Wendy and Doris. It was a combination never before recorded, but that was going to change once they all got back home. Misty stepped up to do a solo number, a gospel song she'd always loved and wanted to hear accompanied by the ship's band. Fortunately, before this happened, the Boss had figured out that he should have cameras and the sound equipment brought in to record the show. When Misty had finished, she announced that there was another singing voice on the ship and introduced Crissy.
Crissy was unused to singing for crowds, but she knew the moment was pretty special so she stepped up on the make-shift stage. Roger knew Crissy had a great voice, as she often sang for him. The couple had even joked that she should record an album titled Music To Cuddle By. This was a great turn of events for the Boss, who finally had a recording of Crissy's singing voice and the crowd's enthusiastic response to same, as well as footage of the act. As much as he'd been lobbying Crissy to join his studio, though, he still respected her wishes to remain on the sidelines. His wife stood by with a clip-board making notations of the recordings. She could tell he was unsure if he should keep the film or it's audio.
"Do I just write down that the vocalist is unknown?"
"Make a notation so we know where it is, but I'll talk to Rog and Cris before I decide what to do with it. If they don't want it public, I can give it to them as a gift." His wife leaned forward and kissed him.
The next day found the group reunited as the second ship had arrived and rescued the castaways from the island. The Conqueror would be towed to Hawaii, where the remainder of the film would be completed. During the voyage, the celebration continued with nightly concerts. It was a trip none of them would ever forget.
With Hawaii finally visible in the distance, Beverly opened her last pack of candy cigarettes. She'd gone through the others pretty quickly after getting off the island, and now she was hoping they sold candy cigarettes in Hawaii. There's no reason they wouldn't, but Bev really had no way of knowing they would. Jeannie stepped up and leaned on the railing next to Beverly, both girls fixing their eyes on the shoreline ahead.
"You think Dr. Noyman will have any trouble starting over?" Beverly asked. "All that funding for his last experiment went up in smoke."
"I'm sure he'll make out okay. That's assuming he goes back into research. He's been talking to the Boss ever since we came aboard. I think he may be interested in writing pictures after his encounter with a real-life monster."
"What about Clete and Julie?"
"Clete goes where the work is. I think after he and Steve worked together so well, he may join the studio team, too."
"That'd be nice. They're good people."
"Yes, they are. We know a lot of good people." Jeannie turned back to the deck to watch the passengers starting to gather to get their first look at Hawaii. Roger held Crissy up in the air so she could get a better look. It was a sight worth seeing, as the tropical sunset blanketed the inviting beach of an island where civilization would greet them all after a rather eventful voyage. Talbot was particularly happy to see the shore, as it meant he could soon begin repairs. It was a clear sign of Divine intervention that his ship hadn't been capsized when the bottom of the ocean crashed into the hull. It was only fitting that the Captain lead all in a hymn before disembarking. How many of the movie studio crew, he wondered, after all that had happened on his ship, would opt to fly when going back to California?
THE END
Crissy stood on deck, looking up at the stars. In the distance, just over the horizon, could be seen flashes of light from the electrical storm. The sight drew Crissy's attention with it's active flickering, almost looking like the light coming off a welder's bench. She hoped that her friends weren't stuck in the middle of that in their little lifeboat. Roger stepped up behind Crissy and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Crissy almost jumped, being a very timid girl prone to letting her mind wander, along with Roger's natural if unintended stealth, but it hadn't taken her long to become accustomed to Roger's presence in the short time they'd been married. His strong hands were quite familiar by now, and Crissy reached up to place her hands across his. He felt her initial quiver from the unexpected contact, but he was also starting to notice how she was becoming more comfortable with his unannounced appearances. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before fixing his attention on the flashing lights in the distance.
"You don't think they're stuck in that," Crissy asked, "do you?"
"I hope not. We don't know where that current took them, not for sure. They were just in the right place to catch it. The Conqueror just missed being trapped in it too."
"Hand of God? They would have been crushed if the Conqueror had slid into the same current."
"I'm sure it was." Roger wrapped his arms fully around Crissy to hug her, so joyed that she was safe and well. Crissy turned to face her husband.
"How's the Boss doing? Those are his friends out there, too."
"Oh, he's holding up. He's sure they're alright, he just wants to get back to them as quickly as he can. His wife has been a great comfort to him during this."
"It takes a lot of courage for a man in his position to stand by doing nothing, he's so used to taking command and protecting those around him."
"I wouldn't worry about him. The first thing a man like that learns is when to trust in a power higher than himself."
"He's a good man." Crissy nestled into Roger's embrace. "Steve's a good man, too. It's good that he's with the others."
"Patty would sure like to have him back, but she's been telling herself the same thing, I'm sure."
On the island, the intensity of the storm seemed to grow. Lightning and thunder remained a constant, lacking any sort of lull so as to sound more like an earthquake than a storm. Inside the house of Dr. Noyman, the girls took comfort in a roaring fire built in the gigantic fireplace which commanded the north wall of the main hall. Daisy rubbed her arms as she stood closest to the blaze.
"It helps," Daisy announced, "but it can't take my mind off that storm completely."
"They're practically routine around here," Noyman said as he carried into the room a tray of glasses and a wine bottle, "and even I must admit to growing tired of the dampness. I thought maybe this would help drive the chill out of our bones."
"Just why are electrical storms so frequent here?" Daisy asked.
"The island is situated directly between two opposing air currents," Noyman explained as he sat down the tray, "that and the mineral content of the island make conditions perfect for generating electrical disturbances as the evening air starts cooling down."
"You told us you were using electricity to make vegetation more hearty," Jeannie mulled over what had been told her, "how exactly does that work?"
"Vegetation is living tissue," Noyman inspected a glass of wine, "thus subject to certain natural phenomenon. As you know, muscle tissue is developed by first wearing it down. My first experiments applied a similar idea to plant life. By subjecting developing plants to mild electrical shock, I can make the plants able to survive increased electrical energies as they grow. A fully-developed plant can withstand several thousand volts which would normally bake it to a crisp. Of course, this was only a first step, but it proved that these plants can be conditioned to survive in environments which would normally destroy them."
"I see," Jeannie stroked her chin as she thought, "but how do you make the plants replace nutrients they would be unable to obtain in a desert?"
"That has proven more challenging, but cross-breeding combined with electrical stimulation has produced some promising developments. Obviously, the plants used for such dry conditions must be able to retain nourishment normally unavailable. One experiment gave certain plants mobility to seek out nutrient-rich soil. But obviously it defeats the purpose of the experiment if the plants simply move away from the areas being used to grow them. Other experiments focused on making them carnivorous so as to feed on the small animals any desert houses. Spiders, lizards, all insects and even some small mammals."
"There it is," Beverly whispered to Steve, "there's the red flag!"
"The carnivorous plants have certainly been a help around here," Julie chimed in, "have you noticed we aren't plagued by the usual pests one finds in the tropics?" Steve looked at Beverly and smiled. Bev shrugged and settled back into her chair.
"Okay, I guess you've got me on that one."
"It's incredible," Minerva said, "you've used electricity and cross-breeding to turn fruit-bearing plants into mobile carnivores?"
"There are also nutrient experiments. I believe I'm close to a breakthrough with the use of electrically-energized nutrients. Plants grown on electric conditioning favor energized nourishment. I haven't made them totally immune to desert heat yet, but their size has been dynamically increased. And with it, their potential to produce greater fruit!"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Doc?" Beverly spoke up. "Giant, carnivorous, mobile plant life sounds like something the Marines should be called in to fight off."
"Watch a lot of monster movies?" Clete smiled.
"My uncle Simon produces a lot of them."
"These are harmless experiments," Noyman smiled, "perfectly safe and confined to this island. Would you like to see them?"
"Your super-plants?" Beverly rubbed her neck as she considered it. Jeannie jumped right up out of her chair.
"I'd certainly like to see your work, Doctor!"
The lab was well-lit and sizeable, if rather gothic in appearance due to the old stone walls. Long tables housed rows of plant life which thrived under electronic devices suspended from the ceiling. These hummed as they fed voltage into the soil and some of the plants themselves. It was all very impressive, situated at the bottom of a spiraling stone staircase. Bev didn't think her uncle could possibly do better in setting a sinister mood, but at least it wouldn't be real if it were his doing.
Prominent in the middle of the room was a huge plant which looked like a leafy octopus. Thick tentacles spread out and draped over the edge of the table. In the center was a huge gourd-like structure roughly the shape of a giant pumpkin, but pale green in color. Evidently, the sight of this was as unexpected to Dr. Noyman as it was to everyone else gathered at the base of the stairs. Clete checked a row of control wheels and their dials as Noyman grabbed a stethoscope.
"This gauge reads twice the output it should," Clete reported, "there's enough voltage going into that plant to bake it to a crisp under normal circumstances."
"I must have opened the current and nutrient flow beyond my intentions," Noyman approached the body of the plant, "I meant to saturate the other end of the table, making ready a dry bed." Noyman listened to the body of the plant, hearing activity he didn't expect. Beverly looked down to the end of the tentacles near Noyman's feet. Metal-like claws were present at their tips. Moreover, they were beginning to move.
"I wouldn't get that close, Doc." Beverly warned as she pointed his attention to the claws. Noyman cautiously stepped back.
"Incredible!" Noyman gasped. "It's become completely predatory!" Clete began to turn one of the control wheels.
"I'll cut the juice!" As the current was reduced, the plant began to shudder. Julie motioned with her arm for everyone to keep back. Noyman was equally fascinated and horrified.
"It's gotten used to the flow of current. Cutting it's food source may make it mobile. Clete, try increasing the voltage. Maybe we can feed it so much current that it dies from over-exposure." Clete nodded and turned the wheel back the other way. The electrical device above the plant hummed louder. The plant's tendrils reached up and grabbed the feeding unit.
"Bad idea, Doc," Clete was growing uneasy, "it loves it."
"Open it all the way. It's acting like a morphine addict. Maybe we can give it an overdose."
"Do you have a flame-thrower handy?" Steve asked.
To everyone's amazement, the plant's body split open like a clam, now displaying a row of needle-like teeth in the same manner as a Venus flytrap. Jeannie knew now the boost in energy was a mistake. A tendril reached out and pulled the leg from another table, causing it to collapse. Clete continued to turn up the power.
"This can't be," Yvette was aghast, "plants don't have muscle tissue!"
"You're only making it stronger." Jeannie reported. "You said you cross-bred in properties from carnivorous plants. Yvette is right, plants don't have muscles for such movement, but a Venus flytrap uses electrical impulses to move in a muscular manner. Feeding it more current is only making it more powerful!"
Noyman and Clete exchanged a look of fear. Jeannie was right and they knew it.
"If we cut the power completely," Clete wondered, "will it die before it destroys the laboratory?"
"If it's food supply is cut off," Noyman warned, "it'll seek a different source of nourishment. It's carnivorous now." The weight of what Noyman was saying hit Clete like a tidal wave.
"If we take it's bottle away, it'll come after us. That's what you're saying, isn't it?" Noyman, seeing the folly of his work, nodded.
"This just can't happen," Minerva insisted, "we've got to be dreaming!"
"I wish we were, Minnie," Steve grabbed up a handy rake, "but this is happening. Everyone back up the stairs. Clete, turn up the juice and keep that thing occupied."
"What are we going to do?" Daisy asked.
"I means destroying Doc's work," Steve stood at the ready to protect the girls as they would file out, "but we can't let that thing get loose. This lab is underground. I say we get everybody out and then toss molotov cocktails down here. That thing may be immune to electric shock, but it should be vulnerable to fire."
"I'm not sure how effective that would be, Steve," Clete eyed the monster, "there's a lot of moisture down here. The fire may not burn hot enough to do any good. Not if it starts at the door."
"What about poison?" Minerva asked. "You must have a way of destroying your mistakes."
"Our failures are used as mulch for the next generation of tests," Noyman noted, "those we've always destroyed by applying more electricity." Clete took a step back and looked over the control banks.
"One thing we can try," he told the others, "open all the controls full blast until they overload. That'll start an electrical fire that should destroy everything in this room without the fire spreading beyond. It'll give us more time to escape, but we'll blow out the generators."
"I don't see what choice we have," Noyman admitted, "but we have to stop this here before it gets out of hand." As he spoke, bursts of electricity began to spark from the tips of the plant's tendrils.
"It's already out of hand," Clete began to throw all the controls wide open, "get upstairs!"
"Hurry!" Julie prompted. The girls began to march up the stairs, but the plant was beginning to get more active and whip it's tentacles about the room. Steve swung with his rake, holding the monster back as Noyman pushed Julie toward the stairs. Clete worked quickly to open the current as high as he could before the equipment began to spark. Steve held back the plant as Clete pulled him toward the door.
"You feel it?" Clete asked. "It's already drying out in here. When those banks blow, they'll ignite the chemicals we use to treat the soil samples. In a few minutes, all the air in this room will be ablaze!"
"Sounds good to me!" Steve threw the rake toward the plant and dashed out as Clete slammed the door and braced it.
"That's a wooden door," Steve noticed, "will the fire spread into the house?"
"There's a metal door at the top of the stairs, just in case of fire. Come on!" The men raced to the top of the stairs and slammed shut the other door which closed down over the floor. Clete toppled a potted fern and began to spread the sand around the edges of the door to add extra fire retardant. A few seconds later, the building was rocked by an explosion. The plant monster could be heard issuing a shriek down in the lab, where the fire was raging. Noyman stood over the door, defeated.
"We tried to do a good thing." Noyman mourned. Jeannie stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Your heart was in the right place, Doc. But maybe better plants aren't the answer. Maybe instead those deserts should be made more fertile by chemical means. Give regular crops something they can feed on when water isn't available."
"It'll mean starting over from scratch," Noyman smiled, "but such is the march of science. By God's grace, we've been spared a horrible mistake here today." As the generators finally blew out, the lights flickered and died. Only the fireplace in the main hall offered illumination.
"The planet was just saved," Minerva said, "but now we have no way of contacting the Conqueror. We've just been lost at sea..."
TO BE CONTINUED....
Patty waited patiently. She hadn't taken her eyes from the spot where the lifeboat was last seen. She wasn't scared, though. The prayer had calmed everybody. Their friends were going to be okay, it was just a matter of time until they could be caught up to.
The Boss, Roger, and Ed were on hand when Captain Talbot got a final damage report. They'd be stuck for a couple of days. The disturbance had hit with enough force to smash the starboard props, bending the shafts and removing one blade entirely. The shafts could be forced back into position, but the blades would need repairs they weren't equipped to perform. Providently, the rupture to the hull was minimal and a quick weld was holding just fine. Still, they were dead in the water. Talbot had no choice but radio for help from other ships. Unfortunately, there were none in the area due to the volcanic disturbance and there wouldn't be any for another day.
On the island, Steve and the girls had managed to outrun the rain. It was sunset as Steve pulled the lifeboat ashore and beached it before turning to look at the area they'd found themselves in. They'd need to find shelter from the imminent downpour. A cave would be best, if there was one. Minerva froze.
"I thought I saw a light in the jungle!"
"A light?" Daisy looked but didn't see anything. Yvette climbed up on a rise near the beach. She was absolutely dumbfounded as she turned back to the others.
"Get a load of this." The others climbed up to join Yvette and stood in momentary silence as they looked upon what Yvette had called their attention to. Nestled in the jungle atop a hill was a luxurious mansion. The group was soon huddled near the main door as the rains began to fall. Steve readied to knock on the door, but he was stopped by Beverly.
"Steve," the girl began, "a group of actresses and their photographer have run across a mansion on a tiny island. The Boss himself couldn't have dreamed up a better scenario for a spooker. Let's go back to the beach."
"Bev," Steve smiled as he shook his head, "you know we can't do that. Whoever lives here undoubtedly has a radio. We need to contact the Conqueror and let the others know we're alright."
"And what sort of person owns a private island and a mansion? ISLAND OF LOST SOULS! THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME! There's probably a guy in there who looks like Boris Karloff, and he has a doorman that looks like Tor Johnson. This can't turn out in our favor!"
"Plenty of people own private islands who aren't using them to act out sinister purposes. I'll bet you a dollar whoever lives here is more Liberace than Lugosi."
"You're on." Steve gently pushed Beverly out of the way and knocked at the door. Steve knocked a second time with more force. Inside could be heard someone scrambling for the door. In a moment, the door was pulled open by a man still stuffing his shirt into his slacks.
"I'm sorry," he said, "we obviously weren't expecting guests. Come in and make yourselves comfortable while I tell the Doc you're here." Beverly was expecting Tor Johnson, but she got Lee Van Cleef. As the group shuffled inside, Bev nudged Steve's arm.
"Doc. Tell me that doesn't sound ominous."
"Only if you've read too many pulp stories." Steve turned back to the man as he was moving for the huge staircase leading up to the second level. "Say, buddy..."
"Oh, my name is Armstrong. Clete Armstrong. I'm sort of the live-in maintenance man for the Doc."
"I assume he has a radio? We have people looking for us."
"He's got a radio, alright, but it doesn't always cooperate during these electrical storms."
"How often do you have these storms?" Daisy asked.
"Most nights. That's one reason the Doc built his place out here. For his experiments. I'll go tell him you're here." Armstrong bounded up the stairs. A thunderclap sounded. The girls began to huddle around a huge table in the middle of the room. Beverly narrowed her eyes as she looked at Steve. He sighed as he looked back at her. It was all in good humor.
"You've been in the movies too long, Bev. It makes perfect sense that a scientist would set up shop in a place like this, particularly if his experiments require this sort of climate."
"There's always a guy who says something like that."
"Okay, Bev," Jeannie chimed in, "tell us what you think we can expect. Giant spiders in the basement? Zombies in the jungle? Abbott and Costello in the hallway?"
"I'm not saying we have monsters," Beverly insisted, "but I tell you something is fishy around here. How could there not be?" Jeannie sighed and tried a different tactic.
"Do you remember that boy with the leather jacket? The one we only saw at night?"
"That was a perfectly reasonable mistake." Beverly became sheepish. Steve asked what the story was.
"When we lived in L.A.," Jeannie explained, "there was this boy who walked by our house every night for a week. Beverly was convinced he was a prowler looking to make off with one of us. Dad tried to talk sense to her, but Bev ended up digging a pit in the lawn to trap the guy. Turns out he was taking night classes and had to cut across our lawn to reach his motorcycle. He kept it parked way at the end of the street so he wouldn't disturb anybody when he drove off."
"Okay, I got carried away," Beverly was defeated, "but I didn't hurt him. The pit wasn't that deep."
"If Dad hadn't heard the commotion and stopped you, you would have killed the guy." Jeannie turned back to Steve. "She was waiting for him in the bushes, armed with a baseball bat."
"I thought I was protecting the neighborhood," Beverly turned red, "I was just a kid." That conversation limped to a stop. Yvette, Minerva, and Daisy turned their attention to a gigantic painting hanging above the fireplace. It was a massive depiction of a sun-baked desert littered with the bones of dead cattle.
"You don't suppose Bev has a point," Yvette leaned toward the others, "do you?"
"It certainly is in contrast to the view out the window," Daisy offered, "isn't it?" Minerva's immediate observation was a bit more technical in nature.
"Where does one get a thirty-foot canvas?"
"It used to be a theater screen." A deep, powerful voice sounded from atop the stairs. All turned to see a tall, elder man who for all the world looked and sounded like John Carradine. Steve fished a buck out of his pocket and handed it over to Beverly. "I had that piece commissioned as constant incentive to continue my work. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Dr. Noyman. I've instructed Clete to contact your ship, but we've had bad interference since the storm began. Given the signals we picked up earlier today, however, I must assume that you came from the Conqueror."
"That's right," Daisy said, "do you think we'll be able to contact them before long?"
"These storms usually last through the night," Noyman offered, " but sunup to evening tend to be clear and dry. I should be able to send word of your rescue tomorrow morning, but the Conqueror has suffered damage that will keep it from moving for the next few days. They can arrange for another ship to collect you, however."
"Then I guess the storm doesn't matter," Daisy shrugged, "you'd be stuck with us overnight either way."
"The prospect isn't entirely unpleasing," Noyman smiled, "we seldom have guests, as you might imagine. We do have room for company, however. Due to the storms, we often have to house until morning the crews of the cargo ships that supply us."
"Armstrong told us you built this place to take advantage of the storms for your work," Minerva pointed at the painting, "work you say this painting inspires. I'm not seeing the connection between the desert and electrical storms on a tropical island."
"It's fairly simple, really, I'm experimenting with plant growth. I'm hoping to make crops more resilient through electrical stimulation, thus creating plants strong enough to survive the most arid environment." Noyman looked upon the painting. "Should I succeed, vast useless wastelands will become valuable farmland."
"That sounds benign enough." Jeannie whispered to Beverly. Beverly smiled before whispering back.
"So did the experiment which resulted in the Killer Shrews."
In the radio room, Clete was having no fortune in contacting the Conqueror. His wife Julie entered, adjusting her robe as she did.
"You never came back, Clete. What goes on?"
"Company. That disaster we heard about earlier? One of the lifeboats got separated from the ship and ended up here."
"Are they alright?"
"Yeah, they looked fine. I don't think I'll be able to contact their ship before morning, with all this interference. Doc should have plenty of juice for his experiments, though. This is one of the biggest electrical storms we've ever had."
"I'll get dressed an meet our guests."
"I think you'll get a kick out of it. Do you know who's down there? Minerva Mallen, Daisy Poise, the Baxter sisters, and Yvette Pond!"
"Really?!!" Soon enough, Julie was entering the main hall, overwhelmed to meet such an assortment of stars. Clete came down the stairs a few moments later, apologizing that the ship couldn't be raised. Steve wanted to get back to his wife, but he still appreciated everything Clete and Dr. Noyman had done. He thanked them before stepping over to the window and looking out to sea.
TO BE CONTINUED...
