The Hotel Under the Sand (13 page)

Captain Doubloon worked down there in the mornings. He liked throwing the laundry in and adding soap flakes, but he didn’t so much like hauling out the wet laundry afterward and putting it through the wringer, or trudging along between miles of clotheslines with his arms full of wet towels and his mouth full of clothespins, while his parrot made sarcastic remarks. Still, he was too proud to admit that sailors weren’t better than anybody else at keeping things clean, so he did a good job and didn’t curse where anybody but the parrot could hear him.

When any of the guests decided to go to the Dining Room, Masterman would serve as the maître d’, in his long tailcoat, and show them to their places. Emma would give them their menus, which Mrs. Beet wrote out in ink every day, and then take their orders when they had decided what they wanted to eat. Winston would run down to the Kitchens with their orders, and when Mrs. Beet had loaded their plates, he would hurry back up with a big silver cart full of trays of food.

The Freets never ordered anything but dessert, like Cherries Jubilee or Baked Alaska. The People of the Sands had coffee with every meal, and put so much cream and sugar in it that the coffee was as thick as syrup. The beautiful people ate only lettuce and drank only water. Mr. Eleutherios and his lady friends had wine with every meal, even breakfast, and generally ordered roast lamb with rosemary and garlic.

Captain Doubloon ate down in the Kitchens, sharing a cozy table with Mrs. Beet and Shorty, but Emma and Masterman had their own table in the Dining Room. When all the guests had been waited on, Winston would wait on the two children. Emma felt very grand ordering veal cutlets or breaded sole or filet mignon, and sipping from her fine-cut crystal water glass.

O
NE MORNING, AS
she was brushing her hair, Emma noticed that she felt light-hearted. As she thought about it, she realized that she had been light-hearted for quite a while now. It gave her a little shock to understand that it had been a long time since she had thought about the storm, or the people and things she had lost in the storm.

She had been so busy having adventures and making new friends that she hadn’t had time to be sad. It made her feel guilty now. She was a little glum as she went down to breakfast, and a little silent as she sat across the table from Masterman.

“What’s the matter with
you
today?” Masterman said at last.

Emma picked up her spoon and stirred her oatmeal around before answering. “Don’t you ever feel bad about being an orphan?”

“I used to,” said Masterman. “I felt bad all the time.”

“What happened to your family?” asked Emma. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“That’s all right,” said Masterman. “My father was The Astonishing Wenlocke. He was the greatest magician who ever lived, because his tricks weren’t just illusions. He could work
real
magic.”

“Is there real magic?”

“Of course there is. Look around,” said Masterman, waving his spoon at the other people in the Dining Room. “Who do you think all these people are? They’re magic. And Winston’s a ghost! If you weren’t very good at noticing things, you might not even see them, but we Wenlockes have always been able to see them.”

“I can see them too,” said Emma.

“Well, I suppose you’re intelligent,” said Masterman, a little grudgingly. “Or maybe it’s because you’re a kid. My father always told me that everyone starts out being able to see magic, but because it’s scary, most people pretend it isn’t there. By the time they grow up, they really can’t see magical things anymore. That was the problem with my father’s magic act.
“
He sighed and looked down at the table.

“Why?”

“His magic tricks were real, and no one could figure out how they worked. People got angry that they couldn’t figure out the tricks, especially the people who wrote stage reviews for newspapers. So they wrote bad reviews of his shows, and then no one would come to the shows after the second or third night. So we had to move around a lot. The Astonishing Wenlocke played in all the great cities of the world. We stayed in the very best hotels.”

“Was it just you and your father?”

“No. My mother was in the act. ‘The Astonishing Wenlocke and Melusine, his Lovely Assistant!’ She had a beautiful costume with spangles and wore a tiara with feathers. And if the accident hadn’t happened—” Masterman scowled, and jabbed his spoon into his grapefruit half so hard a squirt of grapefruit juice shot across the table. “I was going to be in the act too, as soon as I turned five. My mother would have made me a costume and everything.”

“I’m sorry,” said Emma.

“But one night they put me to bed in our room in the hotel, just as they always did,” said Masterman. “And they kissed me goodnight and went off to the theater, just as they always did. When I woke up in the morning, I thought they’d be there, just as they always used to be, having breakfast. But that morning, they weren’t.

“I waited and waited, and when they didn’t come back I called Room Service and ordered my own breakfast. I had pancakes with four different kinds of syrup, and coffee with extra sugar, and ice cream. I ate breakfast and then I bounced on the beds, and then I bounced on the couch, and then I bounced on the armchairs.

“But my parents still hadn’t come home by lunchtime. So I called Room Service and ordered lunch. I had chocolate cheesecake and orange soda and more coffee with extra sugar and ice cream. Then I bounced on the beds some more. Then I moved the furniture around and made a fort. Then I played with my father’s stage makeup and drew a beard and mustache on myself.

“Dinnertime came, and I was just about to call Room Service when the door opened and the police came in. They told me there had been a mysterious accident. Both my parents had disappeared.”

“What happened?” asked Emma.

“Well, there was a trick called the Vanishing Cabinet,” said Masterman. “My mother would step into it and close the door. Then my father would open the door and she’d be gone. But then he’d close the door, spin the cabinet around, and open the door again, and she’d step out smiling and waving at the audience.

“But on that night she hadn’t come back, no matter how many times my father spun the cabinet, and the audience began to boo and stamp their feet. So my father climbed inside the cabinet too and closed the door. I guess he was going to look for her. The audience waited and waited, but nothing happened, and at last the theater manager came out and opened the cabinet. No one was inside.”

“Didn’t anyone ever find them?” Emma asked.

Masterman shook his head, pressing his lips tight together. He swallowed hard.

“So then I had to live in an orphanage for a few days until this rotten little man came and told me he was the Wenlocke family lawyer. He said I was going to be his ward now. I was supposed to call him Uncle Roderick.”

“Did you?”

“No,” said Masterman. “I called him Rotten Stinky Little Baldy.”

“No wonder he didn’t like you!”

“Well, I found out he had the Vanishing Cabinet burned,” said Masterman. “Along with all my father’s other magic stuff, because he said magic was wicked and dangerous. Because of that, my parents could never come back through the cabinet, even if they were still alive.

“And he thought I knew where the Wenlocke family treasure was. I told him there wasn’t a treasure anymore, because of Great-Grandfather Masterman losing it when this place sank under the sand. But Uncle Roderick wouldn’t believe me. He said he’d send me to Pavor Noctis Academy unless I told him the truth.

“And when he did send me there, it was horrible. The other boys got birthday presents and holiday presents from their parents, but all I ever got were cards from Uncle Roderick, and they always said the same thing: ‘Dear Masterman, sorry I can’t afford to send you any presents, but if I knew where the Wenlocke treasure was, you’d have a pony and a puppy of your very own. Too bad! How do you like the hard beds and bread and water meals at Pavor Noctis? If you want to leave, all you have to do is
tell me where the treasure is!’
”

“That’s awful,” said Emma. “That’s just as bad as what happened to me. What did you do, when you felt scared and all alone?”

“I thought about my parents,” said Masterman. “I knew that they wouldn’t have let Uncle Roderick treat me the way he did. They would have wanted me to be all right. So I decided I
would
be all right, whatever Uncle Roderick tried to do. I would be brave and escape as soon as I could, and grow up somewhere, and then I’d become a magician.

“So I flew away! And here I am now, right where every Wenlocke has longed to be for a hundred years. So awful things happen sometimes, but good things can happen too. The trick is to be as brave as you can through the terrible parts so you can get to the wonderful ones, because they
will
come along someday,” said Masterman.

“That’s true,” said Emma, looking around at the Grand Wenlocke.

“And when they come, you have to remember how to be happy again,” Masterman added. “That’s very important.”

“But you can’t ever forget the people you lose, can you?” said Emma.

“Of course not,” said Masterman. He picked up his water glass and held it up. “Here’s to making them proud of us!”

Emma held up her water glass too and they clinked glasses and drank. She felt better. She decided that Masterman was wise as well as brave, even if he was a brat most of the time.

O
NE DAY AS
Emma and Masterman were bringing their seventeenth load of pillowcases down to the Electrical Laundry Room, they heard a lot of very bad language coming from behind a long row of drying top sheets.

“Ahem,” said Emma.

The bad language stopped. Captain Doubloon glared out with his one eye from between two bath towels. “Oh, not more bloody laundry,” he said.

“I’m afraid so,” said Emma.

“And we have the whole third floor to make up, so I hope you’ve finished ironing the bottom sheets,” said Masterman.

“No, I ain’t, because I’ve had to wash all the tablecloths and napkins. Them blasted guests is got grape juice spilled all over em,” said Captain Doubloon.

“Awk! Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!” said the parrot.

“Shut up, you darned bird! Look here, kiddies, we needs more folk working here,” said Captain Doubloon. “Chambermaids and laundresses and whatnot. This ain’t no work for a sailor!”

“But where could we find any help?” said Masterman. “We’re a long way from
ordinary
places. We can’t exactly put a want ad in the paper.”

“Winston could telegraph again,” said Emma.

“So he could, but then, you might find maids turning up what’s got fairy wings, or snakes for hair, or some such,” said Captain Doubloon. “And I don’t reckon magical folk make dependable housecleaners, somehow.”

“You know, if you towed the hotel away to that tropical island you told us about, I’ll bet we could advertise for more help there,” said Emma.

Captain Doubloon’s one eye shone like a lighthouse beam.

“So we could,” he said. “And it might be a good idea to do it afore the next Storm of the Equinox too, so’s we don’t have the whole place going to Davy Jones’s Locker again. And then, once we was settled, I could ask Mrs. Beet for her hand in marriage!”

“Marriage?” Masterman began to giggle. “You and Mrs. Beet?”

“You can keep yer snickers to yerself, you little whey-faced whelp,” said Captain Doubloon. “Mrs. Beet’s a fine woman, and good cooking lasts a sight longer than good looks, let me tell you. Besides, she likes me as much as I likes her.”

“Two eyes, one heart?” said Masterman, grinning.

“Aye,” sighed Captain Doubloon. “It’s like we was made for each other.
Neddy dear
, she calls me.”

Masterman would have started laughing again, but Emma stepped firmly on his foot and said, “That’s lovely, and I’m very happy for you. Will it take very long to get the hotel ready to travel?”

“Not more’n a few days, I reckon,” said Captain Doubloon.