Giggleswick: The Amadán Map

Chapter Nine: Breaking News

Chapter Nine: Breaking News 

The thought of a map had played on Elliot’s mind over the next several weeks, to the point of which he wished he’d never thought of it to begin with. He’d tried the idea out on Eliza, but she had thought it rather unlikely such a map existed seeing as the three people who had ever successfully made the voyage to Giggleswick had used other means of navigation. Godfrey Gallagher had used his infallible ability to recall nautical figures, and Poppy and Lefty Scrum had used their parrot, Evol. But Elliot wasn’t convinced these circumstances disproved the need for a map. What if something happened to Evol? Would no one ever be brought over to Giggleswick again?

When the Noodles had invited the Bisbys over for a barbecue one weekend, Elliot thought he might have the chance to ask Mr. Noodle. Wally, however, had clearly not forgotten the last conversation they’d shared, because every time Elliot tried to speak to him, he would blurt out a random question like “So what’s your favorite school subject, my boy?” or “Is that hamburger cooked enough for you?” in an obnoxiously loud tone of voice. 

Mrs. Noodle had later suggested they play a game of lawn bowling in the back yard, which their dog Bert easily mistook for fetch, and when Elliot had opened his mouth to shout the score after a few rounds, Wally screamed “Crikey! I plum forgot! Elliot –– how did you and Eliza do on that writing assignment of yours?” 

Mr. and Mrs. Bisby had looked worried Wally might be sick or something with all these sudden outbursts, and Eliza had growled “Daaad!” in a low voice. 

“Good gracious, Walter, do stop hounding the boy!” Lilly Noodle had chortled while nibbling on a shrimp cocktail. Her husband grew rather quiet after that incident, and Elliot was finally able to speak without being interrupted, but he’d also known that asking about the map was now out of the question. 

When another Monday rolled around, Eliza reminded him that it was the day of musical auditions. She had come prepared with nearly the entire score to South Pacific, and thanks to her humming it all the way to school that morning, Elliot had "Bali Ha'i" stuck in his head the rest of the day. Elliot was embarrassed to admit that he had nothing prepared to sing and decided he would have to settle on a chorus of “Ol’ Man River”, which his sixth grade choir had sung the past spring. 

Much of his attention in class that day was spent trying to remember enough of the lyrics to the song, and by the time his last class was over, he had scribbled, scratched-out, then scribbled again, until most of the lyrics were written on a piece of notepaper. Whether they were the correct lyrics or not, Elliot couldn’t be sure, but they would have to do. 

Drama practice was held in a large ornate theater with velvet-cushioned seats and ruby red curtains, the likes of which Elliot had never seen before, much less in a school. By the stage, a slightly hunched woman draped in an oversized silk shawl was perched on a stool wearing bifocals on the end of her nose and what appeared to be a crooked wig on top of her head. 

“She’s a bit of a mess,” warned Eliza as they followed a group of students toward the front of the theater. 

Elliot agreed. “Looks that way.”

The woman hacked several times into her fist, sounding a lot like the garbage disposal in the Bisbys’ kitchen sink. “Afternoon,” she wheezed in a deep, wet sounding voice. “I’m Agnes Detweiler ... hack ... You’ve all chosen to audition for me today, so let’s get on with it ... hack hack ... and try to look like you give a crap,” she spat, glancing down at the clipboard clutched between her jumble of fingers and large jeweled rings. “You’ll be auditioning for Godfrey Gallagher: the Musical,” she added nonchalantly.