Jack and Tollers: In Deep Water (Episode 4)

Last week, Elizabeth asked: "What do you think of a dog showing up and Jack expects it to be able to herd the sheep, but the dog is definitely NOT of the sheepherding variety?"

I loved it! There were so many ways that I could take that idea (which most of the other voters seemed to like the best of the options) and it took a while for me to decide how, exactly, I wanted to implement it. I wanted to do something that no one had suggested or thought of yet (including me), but still keep the humorous undertone. And then I thought of...

​Well, you'll see.

Episode 4
In Deep Water

​Send me a dog, Tollers. The Minotaur said that we might be able to speak with animals better. I just need one high-energy dog to help me demonstrate my plan. Make it anything but an Afghan hound. They're dumb as rocks.

For a time, there was no answer and Jack thought that perhaps there had been another interference from the Editor. But suddenly the sheep began to panic and scatter. Jack rubbed his hands together in glee, anticipating the Border Collie he envisioned.

Then the sheep separated and a tawny streak of fur emerged from among them.
Jack groaned. Tollers, seriously, a PUG?! They're useless. They're...

The pug halted several feet from Jack and surveyed him quietly for several minutes through its monocle. A golden watch fob sparkled from the pocket of its silk green and purple waistcoat.

Then it opened its mouth. Part of Jack's mind understood that the dog's words were actually a series of barks and yips, and that was surely how his teammates interpreted them, but what Jack heard was this: "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Uh... I'm Jack." Again, Jack's tongue growled and barked, but his words were clearly doggish.

"Hmm. Just Jack? I suppose it will do. But my name is much better." The pug puffed out its barrel-shaped chest. "I am Colonel Sherwin Edward Gladdenbury Kerfluffle the Fourth."

Tollers, I'm going to strangle you when this story is over.

Jack gestured toward the milling quadrupeds. "I don't suppose you know much about herding sheep?"

"Sheep?" Colonel Sherwin Edward Gladdenbury Kerfluffle the Fourth cast a baleful eye upon the creatures in question. "Egad, they're ugly, smelly brutes, aren't they? What do they want with all that hair? No, I know absolutely nothing about herding sheep. And I wouldn't do it if I did."

"Well, Sherwin, I need a golden fleece."

"Do you now? What for?"

"Festival of Heroes. Look, we're in a time crunch. The other teams are looking for their golden fleece as we speak..."

"Yes," said Sherwin mildly, watching as a hero from Centaur Team attempted to lift his gaze over the sheep with the stalked eyes of a lobster. "I can see that the competition is fierce. And intelligent."

Frog-Hero croaked impatiently at Jack, who withered him with a glare and wondered whether there was a way to redeem the fact that Tollers had sent him a pug.

"Golden fleece, eh?" Sherwin mused. "Hmm. How do you propose to get it?"

"I was thinking of herding them through a narrow place," Jack said. "But I needed a little help. My teammates are useless. And, frankly, the other team is stirring up the sheep so much that they're making it worse. But one good dog..."

"Ah, I see. You wanted someone else to do your dirty work for you."

Jack considered and crouched by the pug. "Well, what would you propose, colonel?"

"Would you like to be chased down and stolen from? No. Behave like a gentleman and you will reap the rewards of virtue."

"Huh?"
​
"Excuse me, ma'am," Sherwin turned to the nearest ewe. "We'd like very much to talk to the sheep with the golden fleece."

​The sheep blinked at him, chewed her cud thoughtfully, and spoke in sheepish.

"What did she say?" Jack asked eagerly.

"She said, 'Nice day, isn't it?' And she's very right. It is."

The sheep spoke and Sherwin lifted his doggie eyebrows. "She says that the grass is sweet, though it is a little dry."

Jack snickered. Classic. A useless lap-dog and a flock of brainless sheep.

Suddenly, the sheep perked up and moved purposefully through the flock.

"What did you say to her?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I simply told her my name. I should have thought of that before. She was very impressed."

"Does she know you?"

"No, but a regal name opens opportunities like you wouldn't believe."

"What now?"

"We wait."

Jack's teammates, apparently, had had enough of Jack's delay and had concocted some plan amongst themselves. Apparently, it involved attempting to herd the sheep by flapping their arms and making their animal sounds. Jack seated himself on the grass (he made sure it was dropping-free first) and watched them make fools of themselves, then get into a fist-fight with Team Cyclops, who had just claimed their golden fleece and were not inclined to let a competing team steal it from them.

Some minutes later, the sheep parted and a single sheep emerged, its wool glittering a light champagne gold. It trotted toward Jack and bowed its head in what was unmistakably an ovine bow. Then it lifted itself on its hind legs and its body warped. The fleece fell away from its body and the sheep melted into the figure of a woman, robed in white.

"Well done, Jack-of-all-trades," she said. "Collect your team and proceed up the hill to the labyrinth."

Jack took the offered fleece and the woman disappeared in a spray of golden lights. Jack drew in a deep breath.

"Sherwin," said Jack. "I would be very honored if you would accompany me through the rest of the First Trial."

"How thoughtful of you to invite me. Yes, I should be glad to join you, Jack."

When Jack reached the top of the hill, he whistled through his fingers. His teammates arrived hastily, puffing for breath and staring at him and the dapper pug. Jack barked at them to follow him and led the way into the labyrinth.

This was no ordinary labyrinth, for its walls and ceiling were not made of hedges or stone, but of dark water, swirling endlessly and held in shape by some invisible force. As they penetrated deeper into the fluid maze, the passages shifted around them. The heroes of Team Minotaur twitched every time one of the swirling walls shifted around them, silently sealing off passages around them and parting to reveal new ones. Bird-Hero tweeted nervously.

After several minutes, Jack was not the only one who realized that there was no way to find a way out of a maze in which the layout constantly changed. Duck-Hero quacked sadly and Chimp-Heroine screeched her frustration into the water, which swallowed the sound. The passages were very dim, but here the Minotaur's eyesight came in handy. All of Team Minotaur could see in the dark.

Team Centaur was not so lucky until one of them had the bright idea of growing the eyes of nocturnal creatures. Team Cyclops was helpless except for the hero with the magical eye, who seemed very loathe to share it with his teammates. Several members of Team Cyclops blundered into the water walls and disappeared entirely.

Frog-Hero began to sob in terror, a choking, croaking sound, which prompted Cat-Heroine to hiss at him to be quiet.

"Hmm," said Sherwin. "Looks like we're in deep water, eh, Jack?"

"At least we're not in hot water," Jack quipped in reply. Even as he spoke it, the water began to steam around them, boiling dangerously, and the heroes leaped back from the walls, bleating or crowing or honking in alarm.

Jack's eyes narrowed. Colonel Sherwin Edward Gladdenbury Kerfluffle the Fourth glanced at Jack and his clear round eyes seemed to sparkle with intelligence.

"I don't suppose we'll have any luck getting out," he said. "But if you have a plan, don't let me throw cold water on it."

A spray of frigid water spat from the wall at Jack and drenched him. The heroes of Minotaur team shrieked and Chimp-Heroine jumped into the arms of Duck-Hero. Jack stood, dripping, as the heat diminished and a distinct chill shivered through the labyrinth.

"I've got it, Sherwin. It's a maze of idioms. Water idioms, to be exact."

"Strange concept."

"I know the author. There's nothing conventional about him. It's just like something he would do."

Sherwin surveyed the water and blinked thoughtfully. "Given the situation, don't you think we'd better test the waters?"

"Good idea," Jack agreed. "I'll dip a toe in it. Don't really want to jump in on the deep end."

YOU ARE SUCH A GOON, the waters said in layers of translucent letters.
​
"We're like oil and water, Tollers," Jack replied cheerfully, and, taking off his boots, thrust his right big toe into the water. 

​When he pulled it out, his eyebrows shot up. His toe had turned to water, transparent and swirling, but holding its shape. Fascinating. He touched it and it felt as solid as his real toe.

So what had happened to those Cyclops' heroes who had fallen accidentally into the walls? Were they truly gone or had they just changed essence?

"You know," said Jack. "I heard once of a rat who was forced through a maze to get to a peanut. One day, the rat realized that it was stupid to run through all those winding little halls, so he just hopped on top of the wall and ran along it until he reached his prize. I'm feeling a bit like that rat. What do you think, Sherwin?"

The pug tilted his head to the side and hunched his shoulders in the dog equivalent of a shrug. "I think it is time to get our heads above water."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Jack replied. Turning to his teammates, he demonstrated his transparent toe and pointed toward the walls, miming a dive into the waters. The heroes shook their heads, backing away from Jack. But they reckoned without Sherwin. He snarled and snapped at their heels and, driven like the sheep from earlier, they fled from his jaws straight into the waters, disappearing as they became like the walls themselves.

When the last had disappeared, Jack turned to Sherwin with a sweeping bow. "Colonel?"

"Why, thank you," said the dignified pug and jumped in. Jack followed.

For half a moment, he felt that he had made a terrible mistake. Tollers had apparently not built breath-ability into this fantasy water. It would be useful to grow gills as the Centaur Team could. But, no, each team had to have the potential of surviving. Jack thrashed toward the distant light above him, a trail of bubbles escaping his lips. Even in this emergency, his fingers clutched the golden fleece. There was a way out. There always was. He just had to find it.

What are you playing at, Tollers? Come on! You've always wanted to write something amazing. Well, now would be the time! Surprise me! Wow me! Blow me out of the water!

And just as Jack thought the words, he knew that they were exactly what he needed.
He exploded out of the water, gasping, and landed on the deck of a ship. His teammates fell around him, flopping like landed fish. Sherwin landed on all fours, gave himself a brisk shake, and dipped his head to return his monocle to his eye.

"Bree-haw," said Donkey-Hero, coughing up water and glaring at Jack. "Hee, hee, squeak, wheeze."

Jack shrugged and turned his attention to the distant shoreline over the bow of the ship. Team Cyclops had already accidentally discovered the secret and was sailing slightly ahead of them. But their ship was weaving oddly in the waters, especially as they sailed closer to the misty island that emerged blackly from the waves...

What had the bullfrog said? Oh yes. "You must take the fleece in a ship past the island of the Sirens." 

​Well, that was easy. Odysseus had already escaped their dangerously seductive song by plugging his ears with wax. And in the absence of wax, fingers would do. Did Tollers think Jack didn't read his Greek mythology?
​
Then he heard the voices. And they were not what he expected.

Option 1
​"Jack! You miserable, good-for-nothing cockroach!"

A second voice joined the first. "Clumsy oaf! I should take you by your ear and throw you in the root cellar!"

Good heavens, it was his Great Aunts Myra and Mona. Jack hadn't heard from either of them in many years and was very sorry to hear them now. His only consolation was that they were hopelessly out-of-date. There were no root cellars these days. But knowing Aunt Mona, she would find a good substitute.

Well, no worries. Jack would steer well clear of the Sirens' island. Or was that what they ​wanted​ him to do?


Option 2
"Jack, this is your conscience speaking."

Jack snorted behind his hand. His personal Jiminy Cricket was on the loose on the Siren's island? Yeah, right.

"It's not Jiminy Cricket. It's Jumping Jehosaphat. If you don't rescue me from the Sirens, you'll lose your conscience. And then what are you? THE VILLAIN, that's what."

​
Option 3
"Jack! Jack, you've got to help me out!" 

Was that Tollers? What was ​he​ doing here?

"Look, I got lost in my own book--it was just so absorbing, you know?--and you've got to help rescue me because these Sirens are not as sweet as they look. Jack! Tell me you're out there. Say something! Bark! Oh, where is my pen when I need it? Stay back, you creepy enchantress! Back!"