Final part of Cobble Comment Story #2. Enjoy!
The next morning, Mysty and James set out for the Bahamas at first light.
Pressing a complicated series of buttons, Mysty converted the pogo stick into a very small boat-like device. There were two small seats, which James and Mysty occupied, Horace riding perched in the prow.
By the evening, they skirted their boat into a cove in the proper island in the Bahamas. Disembarking, James noticed a series of ripples in the still waters of the cove.
“Mysty? What’s that?” He pointed at the water.
Mysty glanced over and shrugged. “Just fish, probably.”
Walking to the water’s edge, James peered in, and saw his own reflection.
Suddenly, his own image broke and was replaced by the face of a beautiful woman.
Taken by surprise, James jumped back with a yell. The woman placed a finger to her lips, and smiled. James crept closer, and, craning his neck, peered into the water. The bottom half of the woman’s body was the tail of a fish.
“Mermaids?” James whispered in awe.
The mermaid winked and swam away swiftly and silently. James sat there, frozen in place.
“James, we must sleep. Tomorrow’s our last day, we need to set out at dawn.”
At first light, again, the next day, they set out for the Prime Minister’s house.
“How are we supposed to stop Danny?”
There was a pause. Finally, Mysty replied. “Honestly, child, I don’t know. I know that Danny has a weakness for caves and unexplored mountains. But I think it’s up to you to figure out how to stop him from killing the Prime Minister.”
James considered for a moment. “Are there any mountains around?”
“No. We’re in the Bahamas, James.”
“Good point.” James’s mind whirled with the possibilities. Finally, as the approached the guarded home of the Prime Minister, he had a plan formed.
Mysty whipped out several small needles and rendered the guards unconscious, walking into the Prime Minister’s home uninhibited.
They marched, Mysty leading the way confidently, straight to the Prime Ministers office. The Prime Minister stood as they burst through the door.
“What is the meaning of this?” He asked indignantly.
James spoke up, “Sir, we hate to burst in—but we are here to save your life.”
James continued, “There is a plan to poison your lunch quesadilla today. We are here to stop the assassin from following through.”
“My quesadilla is being prepared now,” The Prime Minister said, brow wrinkled with consternation.
“Oh, no,” James muttered. “The plan’s out the window, then. Mysty, let’s go to the kitchen, Danny will already be there. I’m sure of it.”
They ran back through the halls to the kitchen as fast as they could. As they burst in the doors, James shouted, “Where is the Prime Minister’s quesadilla? I need it, now!”
A cook dropped a plate holding the quesadilla on a counter and held up both hands.
“Mysty, dispose of the quesadilla.”
Mysty nodded and grabbed the plate gingerly. James ran through the kitchen, frantically scanning for Danny. Finally, against the wall, edging towards the door to the outside, there was a small pickle.
James was momentarily stunned by Danny’s size. He had expected a … well, larger pickle. He quickly recovered, however, and picked up Danny, kicking and screaming, and dropped him into a jar, screwing the lid on.
The Prime Minister was saved.