The Fantastic Family Whipple (18 page)
Read The Fantastic Family Whipple Online
Authors: Matthew Ward
“Now don’t get carried away, dear,” her husband frowned.
“Why, what ever do you mean, Charles? You owe this man your very life, and I don’t think you’ve so much as thanked him.”
“Yes…of course,” he sighed. “Thank you…Mr. Goldwin.”
“Don’t mention it, Charlie! What else are neighbors for, if not to lend a helping hand when needed?”
At that moment, Rita Goldwin and eight of her children rushed through the crowd and flocked around their father, hugging him and congratulating him for such a spectacular rescue.
Ruby, the ninth and final Goldwin child in attendance, shuffled in a moment later and immediately looked to Arthur, who returned her gaze with a subtle yet friendly smile. He could not hide the strange new connection he felt with her: it was because of her father’s heroism that his own father was still alive.
The girl, however, did not smile back. Her dark-outlined eyes were filled with a peculiar unease that sapped the smile from Arthur’s face and made him anxious all over again.
The two held their gaze for one brief moment—until Ruby’s mother stepped between them to address Arthur’s father.
“Charles,” she said, “we can’t tell you how glad we are you didn’t fall into that terrible fire. How awful that would have been for you—and on your birthday! My Rex has been messing about with that ridiculous rocket pack for months now. Who knew it would end up saving a life as valuable as your own?”
“In fact, dear,” said Rex Goldwin, “I believe that marks the First Human Rescue by Rocket Pack Ever Recorded—doesn’t it, Mr. McCleary?”
“I…believe it does, Mr. Goldwin,” Uncle Mervyn replied distractedly. He was busy staring at the disintegrating stage before them, into which two of his dear friends had disappeared.
“Hmm,” Rex added, scrunching his brow, “I wonder if this doesn’t present us with a certain groundbreaking opportunity here. Up till now, of course, no world record publication has ever published a record broken by someone sponsored by a competitor. But I know Ardmore has been hoping to collaborate for years—and seeing as it was Grazelby’s biggest star whose life was saved, I’m sure the
Guide
will want to do something to commemorate the occasion…perhaps by jointly publishing the rocket-pack rescue record with the
Ardmore Almanac
?”
Mr. Whipple hardly had time to open his mouth before his wife gripped his arm and blurted, “Why, what an excellent idea, Mr. Goldwin. Don’t you think it’s an excellent idea, dear?”
Arthur’s father just managed to get out a quick, “But
dear—” before Mrs. Whipple clamped her fingernails down on his arm. Mr. Whipple’s face fell like a scolded child’s. “Of course,” he said. “What an excellent idea.”
Uncle Mervyn, hearing agreement from both parties, nodded his consent. “Very well then. The International World Record Federation will no doubt be pleased to see cooperation between competing publications under its governance. I’ll file the proposal first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Oh my!” exclaimed Rex Goldwin. “I never dreamt the First Ever Collaboration between
Ardmore
and
Grazelby
would be for a record of
mine
—and for something so unexpected!” His eyes grew suddenly wide. “Hang on,” he blurted, “what time is it?”
Uncle Mervyn glanced at his watch and then back at the stage. “Eleven forty-eight,” he replied absentmindedly.
“So we haven’t missed the eligibility deadline then?”
“No,” said Uncle Mervyn. “It’s not till midnight.”
“Well then,” said Rex, “I believe these two records have just brought my family’s tally to the minimum thousand-record requirement.”
“Do you wish to declare?” asked Uncle Mervyn.
“We do,” said Rex. “Just give me the proper forms, and I’ll see to it they’re all filled out in the next twelve minutes.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said the certifier. “You may send me your paperwork tomorrow. Once I verify the information, I’ll simply backdate the forms, and then forward them on to the IWRF.”
“Great Barrier Reef!” shouted Rex as he wrapped his arms around his family. “Well, kids—it looks like we’ll be eligible for this year’s championships after all! Don’t ever let anybody tell you good things can’t come out of tragedy.”
Indeed, Arthur had never seen his father looking so tragic in all his life.
Soon, the stage fire had been reduced to a thick cloud of steam above the blackened floorboards. Members of the fire brigade rushed onto the stage and set about lowering a harness into the huge gash in the stage’s center.
As the growing crowd looked on with anticipation, the intrepid Whipple butler emerged from the crevice, carrying a lifeless figure in his arms.
Though the bystanders who had witnessed the horrific crash knew that the body in Wilhelm’s arms belonged to Mr. Mahankali, it scarcely seemed possible that it could be the same man. The right side of his suit was mostly missing, having been scorched clean through—and the silver-streaked hair that once covered his entire body now appeared to cover little more than half of it.
As Wilhelm carried the burnt figure down the stage steps and onto the lawn, the Whipple dogs flocked to their fallen master, whimpering with worry.
From this distance, Arthur and the other onlookers could see that Mr. Mahankali’s face was devoid of life and badly burned. The hair around his right ear and lower jaw had all been singed away, so that his dark and blistering skin was exposed to the night air, probably for the first time
in his life. Despite his rather gruesome wounds, Arthur was amazed at how peaceful the man looked, considering all the violence that had befallen him. The boy felt a sudden pang of dread. So this was what death looked like.
But just as the tears began to well up in Arthur’s eyes, the dead man spoke.
“Shi-va…” muttered the Panther-Man in a weakened whisper, peering out through barely opened eyelids.
The crowd gasped. Upon hearing their master’s voice, the dogs went wild, licking his face in jubilation. The Whipples rushed to Mr. Mahankali’s side. Arthur’s tears emerged as tears of joy.
Wilhelm was so overwhelmed with happiness to see his dear friend alive, he nearly dropped the man. “Mahankali!” he exclaimed. “You’re not dead!”
“Shi-va…” repeated the mangled man.
“There is no need to vorry about the elephant. He is still breathing, and they are vorking very hard to free him,” reassured Wilhelm. “Do not vorry, my friend. They vill have him out in no time. But now vee must get you to a hospital!”
With that, Wilhelm broke into a run and hurried off through the crowd toward the helipad on the other side of the estate.
Arthur could hardly process all he had experienced in the last few short hours. Between the bitter failures, terrifying encounters, and horrific catastrophes, there had been some major discoveries, great honors, and fantastic rescues.
But now, as his father gathered his family and led them off after their comrades, the boy could think of nothing else but the heroic gamekeeper who currently lingered at death’s door.
“Poor Mahankali,” Arthur overheard his father remark somberly to Uncle Mervyn. “He’s immensely fortunate just to be alive, but with so much hair burned away, he will now most certainly lose his ‘World’s Hairiest’ title to that awful Monkey-Man from Mongolia. I doubt our friend will feel very fortunate at all when he realizes what he has lost. It’s hard to say which is worse—losing one’s life, or losing one’s greatest world record.”
Then, with a sudden, hardened resolve, the Whipple patriarch declared, “I swear—if this curse has been aided by anyone on this mortal plane, I will not stop till I see the culprit hanged for what he has done to our dear Mr. Mahankali!”
It was a vow he would soon live to regret.
WHIPPLE MANOR!
WHIPPLES SUFFER SECOND CRUSHING SCARE—AND ADD DEATH BY FIRE TO LIST OF HOUSEHOLD DANGERS
This year’s so-called Whipple Family Birthday Extravaganza ended in disaster Saturday night when over a dozen thousand-pound birthday candles spontaneously fell from a twenty-foot-tall birthday cake and into a crowd of unsuspecting guests. After nearly crushing hundreds of horrified partygoers, the rogue candles set fire to an outdoor stage, stranding the entire Whipple family on a catwalk some forty feet in the air for over a quarter of an hour.
Several of the Whipples’ employees were badly burned in the melee—including Phoolendu Mahankali (better known as the celebrated Panther-Man of Pandharpur) and his equally distinguished elephant sidekick, Shiva—who are both in critical condition at the time of this writing. (Once hailed as the World’s Hairiest Living Man, Mahankali is not expected to retain his title, even if he does survive his injuries.)
Yet, despite its tragedies, the evening was not without its inspiring moments—largely provided by one Rex Goldwin, who, in the First Human Rescue by Rocket Pack, daringly saved Charles Whipple from falling to a fiery death.
The rescue capped off Goldwin’s recent return to public record breaking—after a dazzling start to his career was followed by some two decades of relative obscurity. Though the feat is set to mark the First Ever Cosponsored Entry in the prestigious
Grazelby’s Guide to World Records and Fantastic Feats
, Goldwin and his family have just declared their eligibility for this year’s World Record World Championships under the sponsorship of
The Amazing Ardmore Almanac of the Ridiculously Remarkable
, one of Grazelby’s less-respected competitors—a distinction, however, which may now be poised for reevaluation.
“Nonstop” Norman Prattle, the popular radio personality who served as master of ceremonies for the event, says he barely escaped with his life—and is quick to praise Goldwin’s efforts.
“I rescued as many people as I could before I was
forced to evacuate,” Prattle recounts, “but I just couldn’t save them all. Dodging giant falling birthday candles was certainly never listed in the job description for emcee, I can tell you that! I hear the Whipples themselves would have been burnt to a crisp had this Rex Goldwin fellow not been there to save the day—I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of him in the future. I hate to say this, but I’m worried the Whipples may be losing their touch.”
Saturday’s “Birthday Cake Catastrophe” was not the first stain on the Whipple family’s safety record. The incident is highly reminiscent of February’s “French Toast Fiasco,” in which one of the Whipple octuplets was nearly crushed to death by her breakfast.
After this second near-fatal incident at Neverfall Hall in as many months, some more excitable observers have drawn comparisons to the “Lyon’s Curse”—the shadowy run of misfortune from the Whipples’ distant past—but the Whipples have refused to comment on any such speculation. Meanwhile, other, more cynical pundits are simply accusing the Whipples of gross negligence—and argue the family’s proposed involvement in next month’s controversial Unsafe Sports Showdown is beyond the bounds of good taste.
The Whipples, for their part, have reportedly rejected all allegations of negligence, instead attributing the incident to “foul play” and procuring the services of the renowned detective, Inspector Hadrian Smudge.
Smudge, a guest of the Whipples during the incident,
holds the record for Most Solved Cases in History. Though recently retired from Scotland Yard, Smudge now lends his services to various government agencies and select private individuals.
In a statement released late Saturday night, Smudge sent a warning to any possible perpetrators: “The Whipples have been the victims of a highly skilled saboteur—but not so skilled, I assure you, as to deceive the heightened senses of Sir Hadrian Smudge! The world may rest easily tonight in the knowledge that the criminal responsible for this heinous act will be swiftly and mercilessly brought to justice. Villains be vigilant—Inspector Hadrian Smudge is on the case!”
Arthur looked up from the photograph of the pointy-faced man defiantly holding up a sinewy finger on the front page of
The World Record
—and shifted his gaze to the man himself.
There, on the opposite side of the hospital waiting room, Inspector Smudge stood questioning one of the Whipple servants. With his thick, arching eyebrows and hooked nose, Smudge looked even more striking in person, and Arthur felt a wave of reassurance at the detective’s decision to work on his family’s case. If there was one man who could get to the bottom of the previous night’s strange goings on, surely it was Hadrian Ulysses Smudge.