Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang (3 page)

The big people in court whistled. They roared with laughter. They stamped their feet and shouted, “Hear! Hear!”

“Well, then,” said the clerk of the court, “let’s get on with it. How do you plead?”

Jacob Two-Two turned to Louis Loser, looking for guidance. His protector was hiding under his desk, shaking with sobs. So taking a deep breath, Jacob Two-Two said, “Why with all respect, sir, I plead innocent. Why, with all respect, sir, I plead innocent.”

“That’s abominable! It’s most inconsiderate,” said Mr. Justice Rough, “for I am the busiest of busy judges. In an average day here I deal with desperadoes, swindlers, bubblegum smugglers, chocolate bar addicts, boys who want a bigger allowance, and girls who grow out of their shoes too soon – the lot! – all of whom have one thing in common. They are rude
to big people. Why, you wouldn’t even exist–” sang out Mr. Justice Rough, enraged.

“–IF NOT FOR YOUR PARENTS,” the big people shouted back.

“Everything you have–” continued Mr. Justice Rough.

“–YOU OWE TO US,” chimed in the big people.

The courtroom began to sway around Jacob Two-Two.

“I haven’t much time,” said Mr. Justice Rough. “If I don’t get through your case quickly, I’ll be late for my afternoon nap.” The judge paused; he glared at Jacob Two-Two. “If you’re innocent, why are you here?”

“Because I want two pounds of firm, red tomatoes,” said Jacob Two-Two. “I want two pounds of firm, red tomatoes.”

“Don’t mock me, boy. I heard you right the first time.”

“But, your Lordship, he says almost everything two times,” said the prosecutor, “and that’s why he stands before you.”

Mr. Justice Rough leaned toward Jacob Two-Two. “Why must you say everything two times?” he asked.

“Because,” said Jacob Two-Two, pleased to be able to explain himself, “I am two plus two plus two years old. I have two ears and two eyes and two arms and two feet and two shoes. I also have two sisters and two brothers. I am the littlest. Nobody hears me the first time. They only pay attention if I say things two times. And now, your Lordship, could I have two pounds of firm, red tomatoes? Could I please, please, have my two pounds of firm, red tomatoes?” and, he thought, swallowing hard, be allowed to go home. Oh, please.

“Are you finished, then?” asked Mr. Justice Rough.

Jacob Two-Two nodded twice.

“Thank God for
that!
” Bang, bang, went the judge’s gavel. Bang, bang, again. “Wake up the jury,” he demanded gruffly.

The clerk of the court shook the jury awake.

“Now, then,” said Mr. Justice Rough, “you’ve heard the evidence. How do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty!”

“Well, if that’s how you feel,” said Mr. Justice Rough, rubbing his hands together gleefully, “I will now pass sentence. Jacob Two-Two, because you are an unredeemed scoundrel, a charlatan, an ingrate, and
a smart aleck to boot, I hearby sentence you to two years, two months, two weeks, two days, two hours and two minutes in the darkest dungeons of the children’s prison. I do this for your own good, naturally, and it hurts me more than it hurts you.”

Suddenly, a bell-like voice rang out loud and clear: “
We will appeal this verdict, of course
.”

“Oh, yes,” sneered Mr. Justice Rough, rocking with laughter, “and who might you be?”

Right there, right then, the two little people shed their disguises.

They flung off their beards.

They discarded their dark glasses.

They tossed away their trenchcoats.

And, lo and behold, revealed in Day-Glo blue jeans and flying golden capes, the spine-chilling emblem
Child Power
emblazoned on their chests, were the intrepid Shapiro and the fearless O’Toole.

“Take cover, everybody!”

“Look out!”

“
It’s the Infamous Two!
”

“I am O’Toole,” announced Noah, leaping on to a table.

“And I am Shapiro,” proclaimed Emma, rippling her muscles for all to see.

Immediately, the two burliest policemen in court fainted. Teeth chattering, the prosecutor dived under his table. The jury, wide awake for the first time, stumbled over each other, fleeing their benches.

Shapiro, followed by O’Toole, traversed the court room, swinging from one chandelier to the next, dropping to the floor immediately before the trembling Mr. Justice Rough.

“I-I-I-I,” began Mr. Justice Rough, “a-a-am a grandfather myself. I a-a-a-adore children, beautiful little people. Have a gumdrop?”

“Stuff it,” said Shapiro.

“You’ll be hearing from us,” warned O’Toole.

CHAPTER 5

ut for all their big talk and threats, The Infamous Two did not interfere when Jacob Two-Two was carted off by two policemen to spend the night locked in the cell below the towering courthouse, before being shipped to the abominable children’s prison.

Jacob Two-Two, who was used to being tucked into a warm bed surrounded by his stuffed animals, tried his best to settle down on the bare wooden board in his cold cell. Unable to sleep, he passed the time trying to decipher messages scrawled on the walls by
previous prisoners. The most prominent message, printed in blood-red, warned:

The who?, thought Jacob Two-Two, when suddenly he heard somebody at his high barred window.

“Psssst! Psssst!”

Raising himself, Jacob Two-Two saw that it was the intrepid Shapiro, accompanied by the fearless O’Toole.

“We could have rescued you,” said O’Toole.

“Oh, yeah?”

“But Child Power needs your help,” said Shapiro.

“Aren’t I,” asked Jacob Two-Two a little sarcastically, “too little to help anybody?”

“Oh no,” said O’Toole.

“You must help us uncover the hidden children’s prison,” said Shapiro, “and rescue all the poor wretches being held there.”

“But how?” asked Jacob Two-Two two times.

“Hide this secret supersonic bleeper in your ear,” said O’Toole, “and we will find you, wherever you are.”

So Jacob Two-Two slipped the supersonic bleeper into his ear and was still wearing it the next morning when, blind folded, he began his long journey to the children’s prison, taking a route so utterly confusing as to confound even the most ingenious of his pursuers. Accompanied by two guards wearing dark glasses,
wearing dark glasses all the time
, he traveled by car, train, bus, canoe, helicopter, ox-cart, rickshaw, stilts, dinghy, skis, submarine, flying balloon, camel, raft, dogsled, roller skates, glider and motorcycle.

Jacob Two-Two’s two guards on his seemingly endless journey were called Master Fish and Mistress Fowl.

“I suppose,” snarled Master Fish, “that your daddy loves you?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Jacob Two-Two. “Oh, yes.”

“Well, I don’t, you little stinker. In fact, I think you’re perfectly horrible.”

Jacob Two-Two lowered his head.

“I can see,” sneered Mistress Fowl, “that you’re used to being treated kindly. Why, I’ll bet your mother reads you a story before tucking you in at night.”

Jacob Two-Two smiled in fond remembrance. He nodded twice.

“Well, you repulsive little brat, you just wait until you hear the bedtime stories we read over the loudspeaker system in the children’s prison.”

Jacob Two-Two loved stories. “Are they good ones?” he asked hopefully. “Are they good ones?”

“They certainly are,” said Master Fish, “if you like to tremble in the dark and listen to tales of red-eyed witches.”

“Or bloodthirsty vampires,” said Mistress Fowl.

“Or kidnappers.”

“Or monsters from outer space.”

Jacob Two-Two shuddered.

“The children’s prison,” said Master Fish, delighted, “awaits your pleasure.”

“But why,” asked Jacob Two-Two, “why a prison for children?”

Master Fish was outraged. Mistress Fowl was appalled.

“Don’t you think there ought to be a place,” snarled Master Fish, “for little people so utterly hopeless they can’t even ride a two-wheel bicycle?”

“Or dial a telephone number,” sneered Mistress Fowl.

“Or count the laundry?”

“Or even cross the street by themselves?”

Jacob Two-Two swallowed his tears.

“Look here, you useless twerp, little people are always doing the wrong thing.”

“Like waking up their parents at six o’clock on a Sunday morning to say the sun is out.”

“Or gobbling all the peaches on the kitchen table before their elder brothers and sisters come down.”

Or, Jacob Two-Two had to admit to himself, recalling the incident with a shudder, running to answer the telephone and telling Daniel’s new girl friend that his brother couldn’t take the call, because he was on the toilet, doing his dump.

“Admit it, clunkhead,” snapped Master Fish, “how many times have you watered all the house plants only an hour after your mother had done it?”

“I was only trying to be helpful,” protested Jacob Two-Two. “I was only trying to be helpful.”

“Yes, certainly. But you drowned them, didn’t you?”

“Ignorant little troublemaker!”

Jacob Two-Two retreated, convinced by his tormentors that there simply had to be a prison for little people as obnoxious as he was, but in his worst dreams he was not prepared for what lay ahead.

Fog, fog everywhere.

Mistress Fowl smiled. Master Fish began to whistle a happy tune. And for the very first time, they actually removed their dark glasses.

Jacob Two-Two shivered. It was so cold. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the first thing he made out, in the distance, were two gigantic chimney stacks, filthy gray fog billowing from both of them.

“Look,” said Mistress Fowl, “we’re almost there.”

As they emerged from a field of tall spiky grass onto a muddy shore, Jacob Two-Two made out a sign that read:

The sign pointed toward a rowboat, a leaky rowboat, and Jacob Two-Two was flung into it by his guards.

“I’ll row,” said Master Fish.

“I’ll steer,” said Mistress Fowl.

“And you, my dear,” they shouted together, “will bail.
Or we might sink
,” they added, bursting into laughter.