Heroes & Villains by Jon Scieszka

Author:Jon Scieszka
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

GENERAL POOPHEAD

BEING AN ACCOUNT OF THE AFTERLIFE OF BENEDICT ARNOLD, TRAITOR TO THE UNITED STATES

BY LAURIE HALSE ANDERSON

1. IN WHICH THE BOY WITH CLENCHED FISTS EMERGES FROM A NASTY PLACE

The wheel of time spun, and the bloodstained war ravens flew across the Forgotten Sea toward their appointment. When they reached the seven-masted Ship of the Darned, on that cursed voyage of lost souls, they landed, eager for what would happen next. Perched on the rigging, the war ravens stared down at the boulder that rested on the ancient deck: a giant lump of dried pelican poop.

One of the ravens chuckled. (It was pretty funny until you thought about how big the pelican must have been in order to deposit a turd the size of a recliner.)

Suddenly, an enormous wave made the ship buck and leap like a snake-bit horse. The giant poop boulder began to roll across the deck. The empty-eyed sailors dived out of the way while the ravens flapped their wings and croaked in excitement. The boulder crashed into the mainmast so hard that it cracked open like an old egg.

A boy tumbled out.

He looked to be about ten years old. He wore filthy pants that ended just below his knees, and a torn shirt that had last been seen in the American Colonies in 1752. He lay on the deck, looking more dead than alive, but if you had the sharp vision of a war raven, you could see his chest rise and fall.

An empty-eyed sailor dumped a bucket of seawater over the boy’s head. The lad jumped to his feet, sputtering and wanting very much to say the worst words he knew but not being quite brave enough to say them. Instead, he clenched his fists.

“Why did you do that?” he yelled.

“You stink of pelican manure,” said the empty-eyed sailor.

“I beg your pardon,” declared the boy. “I do not—” He turned his head to smell his sleeve. “Oh, dear,” he said. “That’s disgusting.”

“Indeed.” The sailor yawned. “Do you remember your name, boy? Do you know why you’re here?”

The boy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Something was very wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Of course I know my name, you dunderhead.” The boy frowned. “It’s, ah, it’s a famous name. A worthy name, known all the world over. Just a moment, I, ah . . .”

He scratched at his head. ’Twas an alarming thing to wake up fresh-hatched from a massive pelican turd. It could make anyone forget his name for a while.

The empty-eyed sailor leaned on his mop. “Where do you come from?” he asked wearily. “Sometimes you remember that first.”

“Connecticut,” said the boy. “Everyone knows me there. I’m a smart lad, they say—strong and fearless.”

“I heard you like a good fight.”

“The only good fight is the one you win.” The boy spat on the deck. “I almost always win.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Tastes like something died in my mouth. Have I been sick?”

“You could say that.” The empty-eyed sailor scrubbed at the glistening loogie with his mop.

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