The Doldrums

When the final bell rang, the students scurried to the exits like mice from a sinking ship. Archer scurried in the opposite direction, up a few flights of stairs, down a number of corridors, in one of which he stopped to pick up a button, and continued to the library.

The Button Factory library was immense. Rows of shelves stretched up to the ceiling with ladders attached so you could reach the top. A separate room was filled with old couches and chairs where students could sit and look out at the inner courtyard. That’s where Oliver was waiting, lounging in a big armchair, when Archer stepped inside.

“I’ve got something good,” Archer said.

Oliver looked suspicious and not without reason. According to his math, over the past few weeks Archer had failed to find an adventure more times than he tried. But Oliver wasn’t good at math, and it’s not possible to fail more times than you try. Still, he was right about one thing. Archer’s track record was dismal. Oliver was fine with that.

Archer opened his bag and handed Oliver a mobile made of fish.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Oliver asked.

“Use the headband,” said Archer. “Strap it to your head.”

Oliver considered this and then, like any good sidekick, strapped the fish to his head. “Why am I strapping fish to my head?” he asked.

“To set the mood,” said Archer.

Miss Whitewood, the school’s librarian, rolled by with her pushcart. Of all the teachers at the Button Factory, Archer liked Miss Whitewood the most. She had dark wavy hair and smelled of books.

“Hello, Archer,” she said. “I have the books you’ve requested, but I’m afraid you’ll—” She stopped when she saw Oliver.

♦ TWO WEEKS PRIOR ♦

“Do you have the birdseed?” Archer asked.

Oliver tapped his pockets. Both were filled. “But this is a bad idea. If giant eagles exist, which I’m certain they don’t, I’d prefer to stay away from them.”

“Trust me,” said Archer. “I’ll meet you in the library after class and then we’ll go to the roof.”

Archer sat quietly in the library reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Mrs. Whitewood was atop a ladder shelving books. All at once, the doors flew open and Oliver came barreling down the aisle like a cat on fire.

“Run!” he shouted. “Run!”

Behind him, in hot pursuit, was a flock of chickens, and directly in front of him, Miss Whitewood’s ladder. Archer spotted Alice, Charlie, and Molly holding an empty cage and peering proudly through the doorway.

“Open your eyes!” cried Miss Whitewood. “Open your eyes!”

Oliver did, but only in time to see the warning label on the side of the ladder: WARNING: LOCK WHEELS BEFORE MOUNTING, which Miss Whitewood had failed to do.

Oliver smacked the ladder and plopped to the ground. The chickens pounced. Miss Whitewood let out a shriek. The ladder blew clear past the end of the shelf and launched her atop a young girl named Isabella.

One week later, Isabella returned to school. Oliver served his time and repaid his debt to society and Miss Whitewood’s limp was now barely noticeable.

“Why does he have fish strapped to his—no—never mind. I’m minding my own business.” Miss Whitewood turned back to Archer. “As I was saying, I have some books that might help you. But you’ll have to leave them here, I’m afraid. Can’t keep books over the summer.”

Archer thanked her. Oliver remained silent till Miss Whitewood rolled away.

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What mood am I setting with these fish strapped to my head?”

Archer was too busy looking through his notebook to hear the question. His fingers were twitching and his eyes were flashing, and though he stood just a few feet from Oliver, Archer was a million miles away.

Oliver waited patiently.

Archer lowered his notebook. “I’m ready,” he said.

“Ready for what?”

♦ WORLD’S GREATEST DEEP-SEA EXPLORER ♦

After much deliberation and assessment, Archer had decided he would become the world’s greatest deep-sea explorer. He would voyage the vast sweeping seas and penetrate their deepest depths. He would publish journals of his expeditions, cataloging the mutinies and pirate attacks while lost at sea. Man-eating octopi would shudder at the mention of his name—a name that would ring synonymous with the sea. Where Ahab failed, Archer would succeed, capturing as many white whales as historical remembrance required.

Oliver listened closely, and when Archer finished outlining his next great adventure, he smiled and said, “That sounded really good.” And he meant it because it did. “Except for that part where I was swept overboard. I don’t see why that was necessary.”

Archer reviewed his notes. “I can change that part if you want,” he said. “But try not to get caught up in these little details right now.”

It was too late for that. Despite his best efforts to indulge Archer’s fantasies, Oliver was always caught up in the details. He flipped open a magazine and spoke without looking up.

“What about a ship,” he said. “How can you do this without a ship?”

“I’m still working it out,” said Archer. But the first step would be to meet in Rosewood Park at midnight and from there, continue on to Rosewood Port. There would probably be a security guard or two at the gate. But if they could slip by unnoticed, the rest would be easy. “We’ll just have to pirate a ship and take her to sea.”

“Who’s going to do that?” Oliver asked, again without looking up.

“We are,” said Archer.

“You can operate a boat?”

Archer couldn’t operate a boat—an obvious detail he failed to consider. Then came the submarine. He couldn’t operate a submarine, either. In fact, Oliver managed to point out there wasn’t a single thing on Archer’s list that Archer could do, beginning with step one: Leave House.

“Can I take these fish off now?” Oliver asked.

Archer nodded and tore the page from his notebook. He was disappointed, but that was nothing new.

If someone tells you they love turkey smothered with cranberry sauce, that they love it more than anything else in the world, you might spend the day roasting that someone a turkey and smothering it with cranberry sauce. If that same someone then takes one little bite and says, “That’ll be all, thank you,” you’ll likely go red in the face and hurl both these turkeys out the nearest window because clearly, this person never loved turkey smothered with cranberry sauce in the first place.

Little bites are never enough when you love something. When you love something, you want it all. That’s how it works. And that’s how it was for Archer. Archer didn’t want a little taste of adventure with a side of leftover discoveries. Archer wanted the whole turkey and he wanted it stuffed with enough salts and spices to turn his taste buds into sparklers. Needless to say, it was a tall order for a boy who wore a size small blazer.

Archer wrinkled the page into a ball and tossed it into the trash. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out,” he said. “I have to.”

While Archer was talking, Oliver had come across an ad in the magazine for a shop in Rosewood called Strait of Magellan. The shop sold many things, but the ad was for survival kits. Oliver tore it out and tucked it into his pocket.

“I’m not worried,” he said, glancing at the clock. “But we’d better go. You’ll be in trouble if you’re not home soon.”

♦ ALL GLUBS ON DECK ♦

The sky was still drizzling as they made their way down the sidewalk. The clouds made it feel much later than it was. Archer was watching the streetlamps reflected in puddles. Oliver was staring at the clouds.

“I’d like to be one,” he said.