William Johnston - Missed It By That Much!

He was interrupted by a ringing sound.

“Somebody get the doorbell,” Hassan said.

“Excuse me,” Max said, placing the capsules on the rock. “That was my phone.”

He took off his shoe and put it to his ear.

Max: Chief? Is that you?

Voice: Chief who? This is Hazel. Any messages for me?

Max: You’re to call Fred.

Voice: Got it.

Max hung up. “Now then, I’ll just-”

“Max, you put the capsules on the rock,” 99 said woefully. “They disappeared.”

“I don’t care for your tone, 99,” Max said woundedly. “It’s a mistake anybody could have made.”

“Sorry, Max.”

“We’re sunk!” Hassan groaned.

“Not at all,” Max said. “True, without food and water our mission is going to be more of a challenge, but we are definitely not sunk. Eventually, we’ll reach a native village. When we do, we can stock up on food and water again. Our duty now, as I see it, is to push on. Hassan-which way do we go from here?”

“That way looks like a good way,” Hassan replied, pointing. “But then, on the other hand, that other way looks like a good way, too. I guess it’s a toss-up.”

“Some guide,” 99 said. “You’re supposed to know the way.”

He shrugged. “That’s what you get when you get a cheap guide.”

“Never mind,” Max said. “I’ll just climb up here on this rock and see if I can spot a trail.”

“Max!” 99 screamed.

But the warning was too late. Max was sinking slowly beneath the surface.

“99!” he called. “Give me a hand!”

Frantically, 99 reached out and got hold of his hand.

“Pull, 99!”

She pulled. But Max remained stuck in the quicksand.

“Max, you’ll have to help!” 99 cried.

“All right-I’ll pull.”

He pulled. And 99 joined him in the quicksand.

“I don’t think that was a very good idea, 99,” Max said, as they both sank deeper and deeper into the mire.

“Max! Don’t criticize! Do something!”

“Hassan!” Max commanded. “Get a pole! Quick!”

“I know just the place,” Hassan said. “A little shop that specializes in poles. I know the owner. He’ll give me a good deal.”

“Hurry!” Max cried.

Hassan dashed off into the jungle.

“Where are you going!” Max called.

“To the shop.”

“Where is it?”

“Back in Pahzayk!” Hassan called back, disappearing into the underbrush.

“A lot of good that’ll do,” Max grumbled. “But, at least, his heart’s in the right place. He’s trying to save us money.”

“Max, what good will money do us? We’re sinking. We’ll be gone by the time Hassan gets back.”

“You’re right, 99. Maybe we better leave a message for him. I wouldn’t want him to think we ran out on him.”

“Forget about Hassan, Max! Think about us!”

“99, for every problem, there’s a solution. That’s elementary logic.”

“We’re almost up to our chins, Max. What’s the solution to that?”

“Let’s stand on tippy-toes.”

“Oh, Max. . Max. . we’re going fast, Max,” 99 wept. “Good-bye, Max.”

“Hold on, 99! The capsules! I still have a number of them in my pocket. Maybe one of them will provide a means for getting us out of this.”

“Can you get them, Max?”

“Yes. . I think. .” He pulled his arm up out of the quicksand. His hand was clutching a half-dozen capsules. “I have them!”

“What are they, Max?”

“Let me see. I’ll scrape the quicksand off this label, and. . do we have any use for a snow plow, 99?”

She peered up toward the sky. “It doesn’t look much like snow, Max. Try another capsule.”

Max read another label. “A yoke of oxen?”

“I don’t think there’d be room in here for all of us,” 99 said. “Keep trying.”

“A dinner service for twelve?” Max said, reading again.

“Oh, Max, it’s no use. Hassan was right-we’re sunk!”

“No, 99, we’re saved! Here’s the capsule that contains twelve thousand gallons of liquid plastic. I’ll just press this button, and-”

Max sprayed the surface of the quicksand with plastic. Instantly, it hardened.

“Max! We are! We’re saved!” 99 cried happily.

With a hard surface to use as leverage, Max and 99 pulled themselves from the quicksand, then walked across the plastic to dry ground.

“Good old R amp; D,” Max said. “They think of everything-eventually.”

At that moment, Hassan came rushing back. He was gasping for breath. “I was half-way there,” he panted.

“You don’t have the pole,” Max pointed out. “What happened?”

“I had to come back,” Hassan said. “You didn’t tell me what size pole. A short pole? A long pole? You didn’t say. If I’d got a short pole, it might not have reached. And if I’d got a long pole, it might have been too long. We’d have had a length of pole that we couldn’t use. And this pole shop won’t accept returns. It’s cash and carry. You’re stuck with all the pole you buy, whether you need it or not. You can see the problem I had?”

Max turned to 99. “See? I told you he was trustworthy. How many guides do you find these days who think about expenses?”

“He’s a jewel,” 99 said dryly.

“Well, I see you’re safe,” Hassan smiled. “Shall we push on now?”

“Yes, and quickly,” Max said. “Every moment that we delay we’re losing ground. Dr. Livingstrom already has several days head start on us. Hassan, is there a native village anywhere nearby? We’re still in need of food and water.”

“There should be one around here somewhere,” Hassan replied. “Why don’t you climb up on that rock and look around.”

“Good idea. I’ll- No, on second thought, that isn’t such a good idea, Hassan. You’re forgetting something. That rock is really a patch of quicksand.”

“Slipped my mind,” Hassan said apologetically.

“Just watch it,” Max warned. “If you were responsible for getting me caught in that quicksand again, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to overlook it-in spite of your excellent record, to date, on keeping expenses down.”

“I understand,” Hassan replied, looking sheepish. “And, in the future, I will do as you say-I will watch it. In my country, we have a saying: The bird that flies down the chimney will never be served breakfast in bed.”

“Yes. . well, that’s a nice little saying,” Max nodded. “What exactly does it mean?”

“What it says,” Hassan replied.

Max nodded again. “I see. And, come to think of it, it makes a lot of sense. Any bird who flew down a chimney probably would be in no condition to eat even if it were served breakfast in bed.” He turned to 99. “We’re very fortunate, 99,” he said. “Not only do we have a guide who watches the pennies, but, in Hassan, we also have a sage, a wise man and an all ’round good Joe.”

“He’s a jewel,” 99 said sourly.

Hassan wielded the machete once more, and, slowly but surely, the three penetrated deeper and deeper into the jungle. As time wore on, however, the difficulty of proceeding increased. Without water, and plagued by the steamy heat of the jungle, Max and 99 grew weak. Hassan, though, did not appear to be suffering.

“Hassan, aren’t we about to that native village?” Max said.

“I think we must have missed it,” Hassan replied. “We probably should have made a left turn back there at that giraffe.”

“Why don’t they post signs in this jungle!” Max said irritably.

“They do,” Hassan replied. “But they drop off when the giraffes lower their necks.”

“Hassan,” 99 said suspiciously, “how is it that this heat and the lack of water isn’t affecting you?”