“Try it, indeed, lad,” said Baneen, heavily. “It can do no harm—though no good, either.”
Rolf hesitated a second, then took hold of the handle with both hands and pulled. He strained, but the handle did not move.
“You see?” said Baneen wistfully. He waved his hand and the Great Corkscrew faded once more from sight. “Had you been able to pull it forth, you could have called on the House of Lugh of the Long Hand, and on Lugh himself, for any single thing you wished—for so did Lugh swear, giving his gremlinish word, back before Arthur was crowned king. But as you see, you cannot do it—no human nor gremlin can, these days. And that was why, when Arthur failed, Lugh determined that there was no hope for us in humans, and we must all return to Gremla. So we are, indeed, now, as you know— Gremla save me!”
The last words came out in a yelp; and from beyond the dune they suddenly heard several men’s voices yelling at once. Rolf looked up at Baneen and saw the little gremlin now floating nearly a dozen feet off the ground, drifting like a soap bubble in the breeze, his tiny arms folded across his chest, his face still scowling mightily.
“What? What’s all this?” barked Mr. Sheperton.
The yelling voices were coming from the boat. In the distance, the voice of Lugh bellowed, “Baneen, you wart-toad, get down there!” Rolf sprinted up to the top of the dune. He flattened out on his belly and motioned to Rita to do the same. She did, right beside him, and they both peered carefully through the tall grass.
The poachers’ boat was a mess. A tall geyser of water was sprouting amidships, and the engine in the stern was boiling off a huge cloud of smoke. The sailors were scampering around the deck, plainly not knowing what to do first.
The captain was screeching, “She’s sinking! She’s sinking!”
Two men in business suits and sunglasses were looking pale and frightened. They were up at the prow of the boat, their mouths open.
“Help!” came Baneen’s voice from high above, as suddenly the geyser of water shifted its angle until it began dousing the businessmen. They spluttered noisily and waved their arms, trying to ward off the liquid showering down on them.
“I said get down !” Lugh roared. He was back on the scene now, looking up at Baneen.
Baneen made some twisting motions, paddling his feet in midair. He cried out helplessly: “By the Sacred Stone of Gremla, I’ve used up so much magic on those scalawags that I can’t get down again!”
Lugh’s face looked like a thundercloud. “Let the spalpeen hang there ’til sundown, then,” he muttered. And he stalked off, heading back for the Gremlin Hollow.
Rolf lay there in the sand, turning to watch the furious activity in the boat, which was still leaking and smoking. Then he looked up at Baneen again.
The little gremlin seemed genuinely frightened. “Lugh, me darling, don’t leave me here, please! The wind’s shifting… see, I’m blowing out to sea. You wouldn’t have me land in a watery grave would you, Lugh, oh most handsome and powerful of gremlins… would you, Lugh… would you?” Baneen’s voice got higher with each word. And sure enough, he was starting to drift toward the crest of the sand dune, heading toward the ocean.
Lugh stopped and looked back up at Baneen. “A watery grave it is for you, trickster. You’ve gotten yourself into this predicament with your tricks; now see if you can get yourself out. I’ll not help you.”
“Water’s bad for gremlins,” Rolf said to Rita.
“It could be very bad for Baneen if he falls into the ocean,” Mr. Sheperton admitted grudgingly. “Gremlins are immortal, of course, but still—”
“Look,” Rolf pointed. “He’s drifting over this way. Maybe we can grab him when he comes up to the top of the dune.”
“The people from the boat will see us,” Mr. Sheperton said.
“They’ve got enough troubles right now,” Rolf answered quickly, glancing at the still-frantic action on the boat. “They won’t be looking this way. And besides, we can’t just let Baneen float away without trying to help.”
Mr. Sheperton gazed for a long moment at Baneen’s flailing form, floating slowly toward them. “He’s too high,” the dog said with a shake of his shaggy head. “I can’t jump that high.”
Rita nodded. “I’m afraid he’s right, Rolf. We can’t reach him, even from the crest of the dune.”
Rolf could feel his face settle into a stubborn frown. “Oh, yeah? Well, we’re not going to sit here and let him go out to sea without at least trying to help.”
He got to his feet and walked slowly down toward the bottom of the dune. About halfway down, Rolf looked up, checked Baneen’s position, then started trotting along the dune’s slope to get exactly under the gremlin. He waited a few moments, letting Baneen drift closer to the top of the dune.
Then Rolf started running. He sprinted up the slope of the dune, toward the crest, stride, stride, each stride longer than the one before it. Baneen was already at the crest and starting to drift past when Rolf hit the top and leaped!
His outstretched fingers wrapped around one of Baneen’s feet. Rolf hit the sand with a thud and sprawled over on his face, with the yowling, yelping Baneen safely in one hand.
“What’s that?” yelled the man in the suit.
Rolf had landed on the seaward side of the dune. Mr. Sheperton dashed out and picked up Baneen in his teeth, while Rita came over to help Rolf to his feet.
“It’s that kid and the dog again!” the captain squeaked. “After them, and this time I want them brought back here!”
All five of them, the two drenched businessmen, the two grimy sailors, and the captain scrambled out of the boat and toward Rolf and his friends.
Rolf started back for the dune’s crest, holding Rita by one arm. But at the top, he saw Lugh, standing there with his legs straddled wide and his arms folded against his chest.
“You’re a brave lad,” Lugh said sternly. “Don’t worry about those spalpeens.”
Lugh gave a fierce glance, then pointed one finger at the advancing five men. “May the Wrath of Gremla strike your heads.”
Rolf turned to watch.
Immediately, a rain of bottles, cigarette butts, beer cans, wadded-up paper, plastic cups, a thousand and one items fell out of the empty air onto the heads of the approaching men. They yelled and screamed, flung their arms over their heads, tripped and sprawled on the sand as bottle after bottle, can after can, ashtrays, paper plates, a cloudburst of junk fell upon them.
Lugh smiled grimly. “They’ve been tossing those things out of their nasty boat for weeks, they have. And I’ve been saving it all for them.”
Rolf stared, amazed, as the five men staggered and limped back under the safety of their camouflaged bridge. The trash kept pouring down on them until they were all under protection. Magically, none of the trash littered the beach. It was all clean.
Rolf’s last glimpse of the men, as he and Rita went over behind the sand dune’s shoulder, showed him all five of them cowering under the bridge, trembling and wide-eyed. Even the captain was stained with dirt and sweat, and his beautiful jacket was covered with sand.
As they walked back to the Gremlin Hollow, with Lugh several paces ahead of the rest, Baneen began to prance around as spryly as ever.
“Ah, you saved me, lad. Saved me from a fate worse than death… water.” The little gremlin shuddered.