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The Little Giants as the Mysterious Six in the Case of the Cryptic Clue (Volume 3)

By Lynette Harrell

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When in Doubt, Blame the Sea Pig


The summers in the small town of Fopple Top were the epitome of exciting times and great memories for those who ventured to the area. Tourists came from all over the country to climb the high peaks, test their bike skills on the nationally acclaimed Bill’s World bike trail, camp in the nearby National Forest or go trout fishing along the banks of the Fopple Top River that ran for miles and miles. Not only were sports enthusiasts drawn to the area to hike, bike and fish, tourists also came to find unusual souvenirs in the famously strange gift shops that lined Main Street. Thanks to the internet with its global advertising, people often arrived from other countries to see what weird treasures they could discover and show off to their friends and families. One day you’d see a bus load of Chinese people pouring into the gift shops and on another day there’d be a load of Spaniards invading the emporiums like an army of ants, all with one mission in mind― find the perfect weird thing.
It was on one of these beautiful summer afternoons that the Mysterious Six had decided to meet at the Fopple Top River to introduce Oliver to inner-tubing. They converged at the common starting place for all river floating enthusiasts, the giant cottonwood tree with its huge limbs hanging over the river like a hairy green giant bending down to scoop up a handful of water. They plopped down in the soft grass and began blowing up their various shaped floating tubes.
“Look what I got for my birthday!” Robyn shouted as she pulled a large inflatable monkey from her back pack. “Mom looked everywhere for this. She said that since I couldn’t have a real monkey I could at least have a blow up one. You can actually steer him a little bit with his tail!”
Her brown eyes twinkled in anticipation as she gazed at her new, polka dotted, monkey-shaped raft with its striped tail and vacant stare.
In all the years she’d been rafting she’d never seen anyone on a monkey raft before and was certain she’d be the first.
Dexter and the others looked at her brown, squashed monkey as she began blowing on the valve. “Wow, Robyn, that’s a nice one,” he said as his light-brown spiked hair glistened in the sun. He pulled out his raft, grabbed the valve between his fingers and started blowing. “I bet you’ll be the first one to ride a monkey down the river, especially one with a tail for a rudder.”
Bailey glanced over at Robyn’s monkey and looked at her own raft that she had just pulled out of a bag. “The one I used last year is still in good shape so I didn’t need to buy a new one,” she said as she unfolded a large orange giraffe, complete with a head and neck that stuck up in the air about three feet and a tail that hung down like droopy rope. She sat down on the ground, her blond braids hanging down around her face, and proceeded to blow into the valve, slowly breathing life into her raft and beginning to give her giraffe a shape.
Jack had brought his faithful old raft that he had named ‘Black D’ when he was six years old. (D for doughnut, of course.) Nobody had food on the brain quite as much as Jack. It was a real inner tube from some sort of cart tire that was the perfect size for rafting. Since it had a regular bicycle tire valve on it, he just aired it up at the gas station and rode down the street with it over his shoulders, being fully aware of the hazards that could come navigating Big D on a bike. If a cat or dog ever jumped out in front of him he’d probably crash and burn and end up looking like a pizza that had been dropped on the sidewalk, but at least he’d have great ‘crashed and burned’ stories to tell.
Dexter had been persistently blowing into what looked like either a small deranged looking whale with stripes or a large deranged looking tuna with stripes.
“I had to borrow my little brother’s ‘Freddy Fish’ raft because I dropped a hot iron on mine and melted it,” he explained as he huffed and puffed into the valve.
No one bothered to ask Dexter how on earth he’d managed to get a hot iron anywhere near his raft. Accidents and mishaps were as natural to Dexter as eating and sleeping were to the rest.
“I found a pink leopard raft at the mall,” Emily said excitedly as she took it out of its wrapper and started flattening it out. She had put her long, wavy red hair in a ponytail and had worn her usual floppy hat to protect her freckles from the sun. If she got too much sun, all her freckles turned into one, great big splotch which in her opinion, was quite unattractive. She knew when she had spied the wild-looking cat in one of the shops at the mall that it was exactly what she wanted, despite the fact that it clashed with her hair. It was eye-hurting pink, had heart-shaped sunglasses on its nose, black sparkles for spots, and a cup holder with a little pocket for sunscreen, ear plugs and a brush. It sported a blow up pillow attached to the back of it for basking in the sun, which is something she certainly wouldn’t be doing a whole lot of because of those obnoxious freckles.
Actually, no one did much basking on the river while inner-tubing because they were normally hanging on for dear life as the current sent them swirling round and round, dipping and bobbing from one side of the river to the other. The deeper areas in the river where the water was calmer would allow them to relax a little bit but then they’d immediately plunge down a small waterfall or get swept up in the current and start dipping and bobbing all over again. This would go on for about two and a half miles until the river grew wide and the water spread out and became too shallow to float down.
“Oi mates,” Oliver said in his British accent as he rode up on his bike. He had on his Royal Pain t-shirt, his blue and brown ‘BARMY’ hat that covered up his blond hair, and a pair of black and white striped shorts that looked like they’d been stolen from some poor, unsuspecting zebra. His legs were as white as a jar of mayonnaise and were probably not going to change anytime soon. He was unaccustomed to the idea of having tan skin since England, his former home, boasted of castles, not sun. He laid his bike on its side, pulled off his rucksack, unzipped it and began yanking on something.
“I didn’t own a floater so I had to go buy one,” he said as he finally got the raft out of his pack and began straightening it out. The others glanced over at Oliver’s wrinkled blob and promptly stopped to gawk at the peculiar looking piece of plastic he was beginning to breathe into.
“What is that?” Bailey asked as she turned her head and squinted her eyes, trying to figure out its shape. At first she thought it was because she hadn’t worn her glasses that it looked so bad but began to realize that it actually did look bad.
“Tom,” Oliver explained as he searched for the valve, “at Hoo-doo’s Treasures said it’s called a Scotoplanes globosa.”
“A what?” Jack asked as he tilted his head this way and that, trying to figure which was the front and which was the back.
“A sea pig,” Oliver explained as he pulled the valve cover off. “It’s a type of sea cucumber that lives primarily on the abyssal plain in the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. I thought everybody knew that,” he said in his familiar know-it-all voice.
Jack frowned, knowing full well that everybody did not know that. Oliver sure liked to show off how smart he was, which was always a little irritating but was sometimes just downright annoying.
“I thought cucumbers grew in dirt and hothouses,” Emily said as she frowned at the raft that was beginning to take on a very ugly shape and appearance. “Besides, that doesn’t look anything like a cucumber.”
“This isn’t that kind of cucumber,” Oliver corrected as he continued blowing. “It’s a deep sea creature. This one though, is the weirdest-looking one of all. I guess that’s why Tom had it in his shop. ‘The weirder, the better’, Tom always says.”
“So,” Bailey asked as she continued to inspect it, “were you actually wearing your glasses when you bought this or did you leave them at home?”
“Ha, ha,” Oliver replied as he stopped to take a breather, “very funny.”
“I think it looks like a sad blob,” Robyn said as she pushed back one of her brown braids and squeezed her raft. “A sad blob of bubblegum or a sad blob of pink puss with Vienna sausages for legs.”
“Well, I had a tough time deciding on whether to get this one or the Cymothoa exigua,” Oliver explained as he glanced at the others to see their response and continued taking deep breaths, filling his raft with the hot air that he never seemed to run out of.
“Oh, you mean a tongue-eating louse,” Bailey said as she stopped blowing into her raft and casually looked over at Oliver. Oliver turned his head and gawked at Bailey in wide-eyed amazement.
“Yes, Oliver, you’re not the only one who knows big words, but I do think you’re the only one so pedantic that you make everyone want to gag.”
Oliver blushed. He didn’t know what pedantic meant but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t a compliment. Bailey never ceased to amaze him with her knowledge, but that was one little fact he certainly had no intention of letting anyone know, especially her.
“What’s pedantic mean?” Robyn asked as she watched her monkey finally beginning to look like a monkey.
“It means a needless display of showing off how much you know,” Bailey said as her eyes glanced away. She realized at that moment that that’s exactly what she was doing!
“Oh,” Emily said as she stopped blowing into her raft and blinked her eyes while staring at the grass. “I think I’m getting light-headed.”
She laid the leopard down, grabbed her head and shut her eyes. Jack started to volunteer to help finish blowing up her raft since his tube already had air in it but Dexter beat him to it.
“Here, you’re probably hyper-ventilating. Let me do it for you,” Dexter said as he set his tuna thing down and took Emily’s raft in his hands. He still had a slight crush on Emily but tried not to let anyone know since he’d never hear the end of it. Still, he always jumped at the chance to do something nice for her whenever possible in hopes that she would notice him someday. But so far, his secret was safe…even from Emily!
They continued huffing and puffing, stopping and resting, and then huffing and puffing all over again, breathing life and shape into each raft. The giraffe’s head started to stick straight up, the monkey’s tail began to curl into a circle, the deranged-looking tuna/whale’s fins were plump, the leopard’s legs and paws became more pronounced and the sea pig looked worse than it did before it had any air in it.
“Are we ready?” Jack asked as he hopped up and looked at the five other rafts.
They were quite a sight to see. Lying in the grass like overfilled parade balloons was a tall-necked giraffe, a big black doughnut, a wild-looking pink leopard with shades, a chunky tuna that had ‘Chip’ written across its nose, a cross-eyed monkey with a curly tail for a rudder and a horrible-looking, fat-legged sea pig that maybe should have been called a ‘sea sick’ instead. It certainly looked more like something you’d find on the floor after someone had gotten ill.
They all headed toward the river wearing their summertime best—worn-out shorts, faded shirts, ratty tennis shoes and torn hats. All were anticipating an outrageously fun time.
Not only were six kids making their way to the rushing water, six glorious angels were walking over to it as well. Their eyes were bright and their wings were brilliant white as they accompanied their charges into the swirling river. They began to fan out as each angel accompanied his child into the water.
“Mum actually let me wear my gutties,” Oliver said as he hauled his treasured pig in his arms.
“Your gutties?” Robyn asked as she took a hard look at Oliver. “What’s a guttie?”
“The things I wear on my feet, duh!” Oliver answered, somewhat exasperated. “What on earth do you call them?”
“Oh…tennis shoes, sneakers…” Robyn replied somewhat irritatingly as she began to take a step into the river. “You know, normal words.”
“Whatever…” Oliver said as he ignored Robyn and gingerly stuck his shoe in the water, checking out the temperature.
“Great snakes, this water’s brass monkeys!”
“I’m the only one with a monkey and he’s not brass, otherwise we’d both sink,” Robyn said as she held her breath and marched into the brisk water.
“No, I mean it’s cold!” Oliver whined as he pulled his shoe out of the water. “It’s beastly cold!”
“Really?” Jack said as he held his breath and plunged in. “How could it possibly be c…c…cold? Just because it was s...s…snow on top of the mountain a few days ago, doesn’t mean it should be c…c…cold.”
He stuttered and gasped as quietly as he could, trying to look as tough as possible. He couldn’t let Oliver know that it was taking his breath away.
Jack and Dexter began to acclimate to the frigid water and plopped down on their rafts drifting away from the bank as the three girls slowly eased themselves onto their rafts, squealing and holding their breath. It was cold but not cold enough to keep them from having a boat load of fun floating down the river.
“I kind of think my floater might be a bit dodgy for this,” Oliver hollered as he set his rump down onto his sea pig. “I…I think it was designed more for swimming pools and fizzy drinks.”
He grimaced as he settled himself in, trying hard not to let any part of his body, especially his bahookas, make contact with the frigid water. His attempt was a pitiful failure and what felt like liquid ice cubes began filling his pockets.
“Blimey! I’m going to turn into an ice lolly! Oh…” he yowled as he flailed around, struggling to stay on. “Stone the crows! I’m a bloomin’ frozen nutter! You’re all a bunch of bloomin’ nutters!” he yelled as he splashed and thrashed, giving up on the idea of a dry rump.
The river seemed to be enjoying itself as it happily carried each child over the ripples and swirls. Sticks and other debris were also caught in the sweeping current, making it look like all the floating objects were racing to some invisible finish line. The rafts began banging and plowing into one another, as five navigators did their best to ram each other, which was half the fun. Robyn rammed into the side of Emily who in turn plowed into the side of Jack. She hit him with such force that he almost lost his ‘thinking cap’ and Black D spun around and started carrying him down the river backwards, which was actually fine with Jack. Pointing in the wrong direction made it easier to see Oliver’s horrified face as he tried hanging on for dear life, attempting to navigate down the eddies and riffles of the river on the ugliest floating device known to man. Jack knew there wasn’t any place on this stretch of the river that was dangerous, but Oliver didn’t know that. Oliver had only lived here for a few months and for all he knew, there might be a 100 foot drop off around the bend that would plunge him to his death.
Hmm, Jack thought as a large toothy grin spread across his face, that gives me an idea.
Jack slowly started guiding his inner-tube closer to Oliver to get within talking distance. The others were whooping and hollering, doing their best to bump into one another but Oliver was simply doing his best not to tumble off his pig. After several minutes Jack finally maneuvered his raft next to Oliver’s and casually said through his big buck teeth, “Be sure you’re near the bank on the left when we come around that bend up ahead. That’s the only way you can jump out so you don’t go over the falls.”
“What? What did you say?!” Oliver shrieked as he bobbed up and down and spun around in circles. “Did you say falls?”
Jack quickly let his inner-tube float him away, putting distance between he and Oliver. He knew he need say no more and would simply let Oliver’s imagination do the rest.
Poor Oliver began flopping and floundering around, trying his best to steer toward the left bank but the current had gotten stronger and all he could do was drift faster and faster toward the center of the river. For a moment his raft got hung on a large rock out in the deep water but just as he was positioning himself to grab it, his contrary sea pig dislodged and took him down the current again.
“Stupid sea pig! You’re gonna get us both killed!” Oliver hissed as he once again found himself facing where he had just come from.
The others began to navigate toward the left bank as they passed the bend but not because of any falls that were looming down stream, but simply because the river would become very wide and shallow and was impossible to float down.
As each one arrived near the bank, they stood up, grabbed their raft and carefully stepped across the rocks to the shore. They were well aware of the need to take it slow when trying to stand up on the slippery moss-covered rocks. If you stood up too fast, your feet would fly out from under you and you’d have lovely bruises in not very lovely places. Unfortunately nobody had thought to warn Oliver about the rocks.
Oliver came around the far side of the bend just in time to see the others getting out of the river. Panic seized him as he frantically tried to paddle to the other side.
I’m gonna drown, he thought as he thrashed around wildly. I’m going over Niagara Falls where I’ll get smished like a paper cup and then they’ll have to fish my cold, lifeless body out of this blasted river and give my dog to Penelope and paint my room purple and rent it out to gypsies.
“Help! Help!” he cried as he gripped his raft with all his might and yelled at the others. “I’m caught in the current and I’m going over the falls! Help!”
Bailey frowned at Oliver, wondering what on earth had come over him. The others turned around, saw Oliver flailing about like a cat in a hot tub, and wondered the same thing.
“Just hop off and stand up slowly!” she hollered as she competed with the noise of the river.
“I’m gonna drown! I’m gonna die!” Oliver shrieked as he clung to his hideously overstuffed pig.
“Stand up!” Bailey shouted as the others joined her in hollering at Oliver.
“Put your feet down!” “Get off the raft!” “Hop off the raft!”
Oliver could barely hear what they were saying but to him it sounded like “get off”, so with a great heave, off he got. Much to his utter relief and delight his feet touched the river bed as he quickly attempted to stand. But of course, if you don’t know about slippery rocks, you don’t stand, you go kersplat! And boy, did he go kersplat!— over and over and over again until his knees were bloody and his butt was bruised and his ego was black and blue. It was almost as if something was yanking him down every time he attempted to stand. The five watched in puzzled fascination as he was apparently trying to drown himself in three feet of water. Oliver’s angel scratched his head as he observed Oliver thrashing about like a turkey in a swimming pool. He shook his head, looked at the other angels, smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Robyn’s angel whispered something in her ear and Robyn, always the softy, got back in the water and waded over to help him stand up. But regrettably, as soon as Oliver took her hand he slipped once again and they both went down.
“These rocks are so slippy!” Oliver yelled as he lost his balance and tumbled back down into the water.
“Hold still!” she yelled as he thrashed about. “Take my hand, get up slowly and don’t try to walk. Just stand up slowly.”
Oliver finally calmed down enough to listen to Robyn and grabbed hold of her hand again. He stood up so slowly that he looked as if he was either standing on a land mine or was doing some sort of slow-motion worm ballet. He carefully stood up and clung to her like a kitten hanging from a tree. They walked along ever so slowly and still he managed to take her down two more times before they got to shore. Just as they reached the edge of the bank Robyn pried her hand out of his. She needed to get away from him as fast as she could before he somehow managed to drown her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the falls before we took off? he snapped as he flopped himself down in the sand. “I could have ended up looking like a pile of scrambled eggs!”
“What are you talking about?” Bailey questioned as she wrung out her braids and pulled her giraffe out of the water.
“The falls! The falls just beyond here!” he panted as he watched his beloved Scotoplanes globosa floating to its doom.
“There are no falls,” Emily said matter-of-factly as she looked at Oliver like he was one fry short of a Happy Meal.
“Jack said there were falls,” Oliver gasped as he tried to catch his breath.
All eyes turned to Jack. He stood stock still, looking away and trying hard to keep the smile off his face. However, looking at the exhausted, drowned rat named Oliver, was making it impossible to stay straight faced. What started out as a tiny speck of a grin, turned quickly into a great big smile as his big buck teeth presented themselves in all their glory. He burst out laughing and slapped his knee as he pointing at Oliver. When the others realized what Jack had done, as hard as they tried, they couldn’t help but laugh too. Poor Oliver, with his know-it-all attitude, was sort of like a big, itchy scab― he was just so easy to pick on.
“I’m really sorry, Oliver,” Jack cackled as he thought of the look on Oliver’s face when he had said the word falls. “I didn’t dream you’d freak out so bad. I thought you’d figure out that I was just pulling your leg.”
Oliver stood up, clenched his fists and was ready to take Jack on, knowing that he’d probably not live to tell about it. Jack was twice his size and as strong as a horse, but that didn’t seem to matter right now because Oliver just needed to try to even the score.
“You miserable plonker!” Oliver yelled as he lunged for Jack. Jack easily dodged him and stepped back, surprised at Oliver’s outburst. Fortunately, Oliver didn’t manage to connect with Jack’s nose, but instead lost his balance and landed with a thud on the ground.
“I’m sorry, Oliver!” Jack shouted as he studied Oliver who was struggling to get back up. “I didn’t know you’d get so mad.”
Oliver lunged at him again and just like a replay in a football game, he missed and once again landed on his rump, only this time, his rump was introduced to a sharp rock.
“Ow! Ow! Oh!” Oliver said as he leaped off the rock. “I think I just impaled my bum!” He started rubbing his backside and then angrily looked at Jack and said, “You’re on the verge of becoming extinct Jack! I’m gonna beat the ever-lovin’ popcorn out of you!”
“Calm down, Oliver!” shouted Bailey. “Jack was wrong in what he did, but that doesn’t mean you need to try and clobber him.”
“Yeah, Oliver,” Dexter said as he put out his hand and helped him up. “Quit trying to fight. You’ll just end up getting hurt.”
Oliver took Dexter’s hand and stood to his feet. His face was flushed and one knee was bleeding. “Lucky for you Jack, that my legs seem to be a bit wonky from falling down so many times, otherwise, you’d be sorry.”
Jack frowned at Oliver as he attempted to make amends and also understand what Oliver just said.
“I said I was sorry for pullin’ your leg and I meant it. I guess that was a bad idea. No hard feelings?” he said as he stuck out his hand to shake.
Oliver looked at the peace offering in the form of a hand and just stared at it, unwilling to move. After several seconds Emily intervened and said, “Go on, Oliver. He said he was sorry. Now forgive him and shake his hand.”
Jack continued to hold out his hand, which was a little bit humbling, since Oliver just gawked at it, but he wasn’t going to give up. He held his ground and waited.
“Oh, alright,” Oliver sighed as he shook Jack’s hand briefly and suddenly remembered his treasured sea pig. He looked down the river expecting to see a dot of a pig way off in the distance but to his complete surprise saw Miss Piggy not very far away at all, stuck on the rocks in the middle of the river. He turned, trudged down the sand and carefully walked into the middle of the river to grab his raft and started heading back to the shore.
The others waited for him before they began their trek back up the river to do it all over again. The rest of the afternoon was spent having a great time plowing, banging and slamming into each other, seeing if they could knock anyone off their tube. They even had a competition of seeing who could wham into each other the most. Oliver ended up leading the pack in total whacks and enjoyed himself immensely, in spite of his bloody shins, bruised bum and deflated ego. As supper time started beckoning them all home, they walked back up the river bank one last time to the huge cottonwood tree and began letting the air out of their rafts by sitting on them.
“Hey guys,” Bailey said as she continued to squeeze the life out of her giraffe, “I’ve come up with a secret code that we might like to use when we need to get a message to each other. What if we met at the grotto tomorrow at say… 10:00 o’clock, and I showed it to you?”
“A secret code?” “That’s a great idea.” “Works for me.” “Sure!” they said as they continued to flatten their hissing rafts.
As the sun began to cast long shadows on the grass and sidewalk, they started heading home in all directions. Emily to her mansion on the outskirts of town, Robyn and Bailey to their homes on Bauer Street, Dexter to his house a few blocks over from theirs, Jack to his home on the other side of town and Oliver, to his house in the Withering Heights Subdivision.
“A secret code,” Oliver mumbled as he rode his bike toward his house. “That’s brilliant. She’s brilliant. I jolly well think I might have met my match.”

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