Coffin Island Read online

  “You’re descended from pirates too,” Professor Coffin said. “Now that you’re Headmaster you’re old enough to know the truth.”

  “I’m descended from pirates?” I gasped.

  “Pitches,” Professor Coffin said. “Pirate witches.”

  “It explains a lot,” I said.

  “Our moral deformity,” Professor Coffin grinned.

  “You wear that burden on your back,” Madison snorted.

  “Witchcraft has a stupendous knack for naming us,” I agreed.

  Professor Coffin was standing next to Flash with a flaming bucket of fire and a shovel.

  “I got my old job back,” Professor Coffin grinned and took a swig of rum from his hip flask. “Not a lot of competition for the prestigious spots on this rock with this stupid lot. I feel like a million doubloons now that I’m back at the top, the Janitor slot.”

  “Put Flash in his flaming coffin so he can recover,” Madison snapped. “And get out of my presence before I kill you.”

  “What a lovely witch,” Professor Coffin remarked. “She has a touch of the old hag.”

  Professor Coffin then proceeded to shovel up Flash which we all watched with deep fascination. Flash seemed to be disintegrating into little pieces of flaming ape. Professor Coffin tamped down the various parts of fiery flesh in the bucket of fire. Flash adjusted himself in the bucket. He let out a flaming groan of relief.

  “Make a hole for the bucket of ape,” Professor Coffin shouted. “We have an injured librarian coming through. We can’t afford to lose another creature that knows how to read on this island. They’re scarcer than a raven with spectacles.”

  The faculty witches begrudgingly parted to let him pass.

  “I’m just going to assume that I’m your number two witch in-charge,” Madison said.

  “You want to be Headmaster?” I asked.

  The faculty witches started shouting in disapproval.

  “This is a hostile takeover of The Coffin Island School for Witches by the pupils!” Madison yelled.

  The faculty witches shouted in approval.

  “The faculty witches deserved to die for mistreatment of the pupils,” Madison bellowed. “You are now under our rule! Defy Headmaster Boo and die!”

  The faculty witches shouted in approval.

  We’re off to a pretty good start, I thought.

  “Say something to them,” Madison said out of the corner of her mouth.

  “I didn’t ask for this job,” I said. “And I certainly don’t want it.”

  The faculty witches shouted in approval.

  “Keep going,” Madison urged.

  “You refused to teach us!” I shouted.

  The faculty witches roared in approval.

  “You refused to feed us!” I shouted.

  The faculty witches roared in approval.

  “You pawned us off on wombats!” I shouted.

  The faculty witches roared in approval.

  “Give them a punishment,” Madison suggested.

  “You have to stay in this library,” I shouted.

  The faculty witches shouted in approval.

  “Come up with something worse,” Madison said.

  “You cannot leave this library,” I shouted.

  The faculty witches shouted in approval.

  “Punish them,” Madison hissed.

  “Until you have read all these books,” I shouted.

  The faculty witches howled in disapproval.

  Professor Coffin stuck his head back in the door.

  “Have you gone mad, man?” he demanded. “These witches don’t know how to read.”

  “What are they called?” Madison asked.

  “Stitches,” Professor Coffin said. “They make sails.”

  “I suspected as much,” Madison said.

  “Makers of sails,” I practically shouted.

  “It explains a lot,” Madison laughed.

  “What were they doing inside the books?” I asked.

  “They tried to burn the books,” Professor Coffin explained. “The books devoured them.”

  “We know that,” Madison snapped.

  “Why did they try to burn them?” I asked.

  “How should I know that?” Professor Coffin demanded.

  “They didn’t learn anything while they were in there?” I asked.

  “Of course not,” Professor Coffin said.

  “You can’t teach them?” I asked.

  “Of course not,” Professor Coffin said. “They’re stitches.”

  “Why did you put them in charge of the school?” I asked.

  “The pirates abandoned ship and the stitches were underfoot,” Professor Coffin said. “You don’t need sails if you don’t have sailors.”

  “Where is the pirate faculty?” Madison asked.

  “I don’t know,” Professor Coffin shrugged. “They’re on Coffin Island somewhere.”

  “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “Drinking rum and horsing around,” Professor Coffin said. “Why do you ask?”

  Madison laughed.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Why were you in that book?”

  “I climbed into my book because I couldn’t abandon ship because I was Headmaster,” Professor Coffin said. “The doldrums were preferable. If you’re going to be a rum bum where else would you do it?”

  “We have a book in here?” Madison asked. “Just like a coffin?”

  “Where do you think your life story is written?” Professor Coffin demanded.

  “You knew this was coming?” I asked.

  “Our life stories are already written down?” Madison demanded.

  “I couldn’t get through the doldrums,” Professor Coffin grinned. “Your book won’t let you skip ahead. My life remains an open book because I closed it.”

  “Professor Coffin must teach you how to read,” I shouted. “Then you must read every book in the library starting with your life story. Only then can you leave this library.”

  The stitches said nothing.

  “I think you stunned them,” Madison said.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I don’t want to know my life story.”

  “I’m right behind you, chief,” Madison said as we backed out of the room and quietly shut the door of the library behind us. Stitches were already reentering the library from the coffin room. They were passing through the closed door against their will. Flash came roaring down the hall. He had recovered in his flaming coffin. He put himself through the keyhole. A great struggle to learn could be heard from within. It sounded like Professor Coffin was throwing his pupils against the wall. Flash was letting out hearty roars of approval. Flame on, my brother. Flame on, you cantankerous beast. Be light on your feet.

  Chapter

  “How do you like the skull and bones room?” Madison asked.

  “It’s lovely,” I said. “I like it when the dead come back to life.”

  “Particularly after the vultures have done their dirty work,” Madison snorted.

  We were walking through a world of bones. Skeleton war horses were stamping around with skeletal horsemen aboard. Skeletal footmen were fighting each other with cutlasses. The whole world was in bone and it was in an uproar. It was a little more horrifying than it sounded. Why would an entire world of bone go to war? Who could possibly gain from that?

  “It certainly lives up to its name,” I said. “The skeleton men don’t mind us?”

  “There is treasure buried under these bones,” Madison said. “The bone warriors are tasked with protecting it.”

  “What good is treasure to us?” I asked. “Why bother digging it up?”

  “That’s why the bone warriors are fighting amongst themselves,” Madison said.

  “They don’t care about us?” I asked.

  “They’re picking bones with each other because they’re bone warriors,” Madison snorted.

  “That’s a relief,” I said. “I was getting a little concerned fo
r a moment there. How do you fight a bone warrior?”

  “You smash him in the skull,” Madison shrugged.

  “I suppose like anything else,” I said.

  “I wanted to show you this room because sometimes witchcraft is just a fizzle on Coffin Island,” Madison said. “It can backfire the other way. There was some serious malicious intent here but it just didn’t pan out.”

  “Don’t tell that to all the bone warriors,” I said. “It seems if they hack the spine out that ends it.”

  “Just don’t let the bone spiders bite you,” Madison cautioned. “The bone venom takes hours to kill you.”

  “At least there is something deadly in here,” I said. “I was getting a little concerned that something was not actively plotting to kill me on Coffin Island. We wouldn’t want to sully the fine reputation of this institution. You’ve got to keep those coffins full.”

  “Thank goodness for small painful things like bone spiders,” Madison said.

  “It’s kind of hard to see the bone spiders because everything is bone,” I said.

  “Try to walk more gently on the skulls,” Madison suggested.

  “I wouldn’t think of insulting the dead with anything but light treads,” I said. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Do you want to go back to the library?” Madison asked.

  “I’ll take my chances in here,” I said.

  “I was just kidding about the bone spiders,” Madison laughed.

  “Nothing can kill us in here?” I asked.

  “Only greed,” Madison said.

  “I’m too busy working on hubris,” I said. “I don’t think that I can swing this Headmaster job.”

  “You don’t want to be Headmaster?” Madison asked.

  “You could say that,” I said.

  “You’re doing fine,” Madison said. “That was a stroke of genius back there in the library.”

  “We see what learning does for those stitches,” I said. “Then we decide if we want to learn ourselves.”

  “Chances are the next time we go in there,” Madison laughed. “The library will be back upside down. The stitches will be back in the books. And Flash will be his old ornery self.”

  “We just don’t go in there,” I said.

  “Getting an education at The Coffin Island School for Witches is probably a bad idea,” Madison said.

  “Something is bound to backfire,” I agreed. “You get ignorant like the faculty.”

  “I can’t decide if I want to tackle the trolls in the kitchen,” Madison said. “Or the black cats on the catwalk with the keys attached to their skeletons. There are also some elephant parrots that need to be corrected.”

  “They all sound pretty bad to me,” I said.

  “One won’t feed us,” Madison said. “The other two won’t let us off the island.”

  “What about the hourglass?” I asked. “Isn’t that the key to it all?”

  “It’s not much of a tourist attraction,” Madison said. “You’re going to be very discouraged by that particular piece of witchcraft. Why don’t I show you the cauldron or the broom first? You won’t get as discouraged by your situation. Trust me. They are both totally scandalous.”

  “I want to see the hourglass,” I said.

  “You better lower your expectations,” Madison laughed. “It’s extremely advanced witchcraft, Headmaster Boo.”

  “Can you please not call me that,” I said. “It’s totally upsetting that I’ve been put in-charge of this magical disaster.”

  “Perhaps you would prefer that I call you, Headmaster Booster,” Madison said.

  “It seems more suitable to the prestige of the position,” I said. “Can you believe that I might be stuck with this job forever?”

  “Maybe someday you will get promoted to Janitor if a more powerful witch comes along,” Madison laughed. “Professor Coffin called it a prestigious position.”

  “I can only imagine the honor,” I said.

  “I don’t blame Professor Coffin for drinking,” Madison said.

  “He figured out how to get rum on Coffin Island,” I said.

  “It appears for the Janitor out of necessity,” Madison laughed.

  “His flask is bottomless,” I said.

  “It would have to be,” Madison said. “Take my hand.”

  “I don’t want to fly again,” I said. “I don’t think that’s for me. Something tells me that I’m not supposed to fly.”

  Madison grabbed my hand.

  “There is no way that I am taking the staircase,” Madison said. “Mount Coffin is the Mount Everest of witchcraft.”

  “Where is the hourglass?” I asked.

  “You’re going to have to be careful with that power now that you are Headmaster,” Madison laughed. “However I am thrilled that you can take passengers. What a rush.”

  We were standing on the top of the world. The peak of Mount Coffin was where the prayer flags were kept. If you’re going to plant a prayer flag it might as well be seen from the heavens. We could see the curvature of the Earth. Or whatever contrivance of a planet we were on. Perhaps we were on the Planet of Witchcraft. Some poorly assembled test planet to try out ideas. It was far, far away and far out. It was far too many things. That’s far sure. I aimed to smash it.

  “I can teleport myself around the island?” I asked.

  “What an awesome power,” Madison laughed.

  “How could anybody be in-charge of this?” I gasped.

  “The Coffin Island Mountain Range,” Madison snorted. “This is your reign, Headmaster Boo.”

  The Coffin Island Mountain Range was a total disaster. It was in a continuous state of earthquake. Mountains were imploding. Mountains were exploding. Tidal waves were crashing over the continental rubble. Volcanoes were dumping lava on top of everything. The island kept reconstructing itself only to be destroyed again. The summit of Mount Coffin was the only safe spot. You might as well be at the top if you’re the man at the top. How else can you locate your position on the map? This wasn’t good. Perhaps I was Headmaster after all. I was hoping it was some sort of magical ruse.

  “Civilization can’t get a very good foothold in The Coffin Island Mountain Range,” Madison shrugged.

  “We’re living in that?” I asked.

  “Technically we’re under it except up here,” Madison said. “Our castle is subterranean but it’s solar powered somehow.”

  “Can we leave the castle?” I asked.

  “Perhaps with your power,” Madison said. “But I have never been able to get past the black cats. They’re guarding the perimeter.”

  “What about the emerald ocean,” I asked.

  “It’s under everything,” Madison said. “It’s a subterranean ocean.”

  “It sounds like a sewer when you put it that way,” I said. “It’s actually quite beautiful.”

  “Our ocean is a beautiful sewer,” Madison shrugged.

  “I might as well go look at the hourglass,” I said. “Trying to escape through that rubble looks like a death sentence. Then there is the open ocean after that.”

  “That would be the general gist of it,” Madison said. “But appearances are deceiving on Coffin Island. Try to jump off Mount Coffin.”

  “Are you nuts?” I asked.

  Madison stepped over the edge.

  “See,” she said.

  Madison was standing in thin air.

  “Eventually you will walk into an invisible wall,” Madison said. “Or an invisible box will trap you if you try to escape from the island. It’s like we’re living inside some sort of dream, you know? Coffin Island is a hallucination of sorts. A madman is behind this test. Of this much I am certain.”

  “I keep forgetting that this whole world is just a test,” I said. “There is so much trickery here.”

  “All the razzle-dazzle lulls your mind into complacency,” Madison said. “You just forget that you’re in a contrivance.”

  “This world is really wonky,” I agr
eed.

  Madison stepped back onto the summit of Mount Coffin.

  “I’m surprised it didn’t trap me,” Madison said.

  “There is an invisible box around Mount Coffin?” I asked.

  “How else could the island contain us?” Madison asked.

  “You hit an invisible wall if you try to fly off the island?” I asked.

  “It’s a little worse than that,” Madison said. “Sometimes it won’t permit me to fly up the staircase and forces me to walk. It takes days to climb up here. Or it won’t let me fly back down. Or it just traps me in an invisible box. I have to sit in the trap until it drops me. But you don’t have to worry about that with your powers. You could teleport out of any trap.”

  “I’m not too crazy about that power,” I said.

  “Let’s check the hourglass off the list,” Madison said. “I want to try to eat or try to get past the black cats. Then we’ll grab a quick scrub in the bathtub. Rub a dub, dub. Two witches in the tub.”

  “Where is the hourglass?” I asked.

  I had to actively tell myself not to teleport.

  “It’s in that piece of rubbish nailed to the sun over there,” Madison said.

  There was a cuckoo clock nailed to the sun.

  “How can a cuckoo clock be nailed to the sun?” I asked.

  “The sun is cold because it’s been stopped,” Madison said. “You could probably put up a clothesline if you like. Hang up some socks.”

  “Time is stopped?” I asked.

  “Take a closer look,” Madison suggested. “It won’t hurt you.”

  The Coffin Island School for Witchcraft was under The Coffin Island Mountain range? There was a cuckoo clock nailed to the sun? The sun was cold because time had been stopped? What are you going to do? This is witchcraft.

  “This cuckoo clock is stopped at five o’clock,” I said.

  “The witching hour,” Madison snorted. “Or happy hour.”

  “It’s always five o’clock on Coffin Island,” I said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “That tiny birdhouse runs our lives,” Madison snorted. “Or rather the hourglass that is within the tiny birdhouse controls our lives. It’s actually a little more unsettling when you look at it from that angle.”

  “The hourglass is equally unimpressive,” I said as I peered into the cuckoo clock. The sun was strangely cool to the touch. “The hourglass is an egg timer?”