Jon Scieszka - Time Warp Trio 01 - Knights of the Kitchen Table

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2024-11-18 2 0 63.18KB 18 页 5.9玖币
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THE TIME WARP TRIO
Knights
of the
Kitchen Table
by Jon Scieszka
PUFFIN BOOKS
ONE
Halt, vile knaves. Prepare to die.”
“Is he talking to us?” asked Fred.
I looked around the small clearing. A dirt path went from one end to the
other. Fred, Sam, and I stood at one end. A large guy on a black horse stood
at the other. He was dressed from head to toe in black armor like you see in
those books about knights and castles.
“I don’t see any other vile knaves around,” I said.
Sam cleaned his glasses on his T-shiirt and took another look at the end of
the path. “Yes, there is a Black Knight down there.”
The sun glinted off a very real, and very sharplooking sword hanging from
the Black Knight’s side.
“And, yes, he looks like he’s planning to hurt us,” added Sam.
“Hey, it’s not my fault,” I said. “I told Fred not to open it.”
“You did not,” said Fred.
“Did, too.”
“Did not.”
“Did, too.”
“Excuse me, guys,” said Sam. “Can we discuss this later? I think that large
angry man in the black can is getting ready to kill us now.” The Black Knight
lowered his lance and set his shield in front of him..
“Um... Hello there, Mr. Knight, sir,” I called
across the clearing. “My name is Joe. My friends and I seem to have lost our
way from my birthday party. If you could just take us to the nearest phone-”
“None shall pass,” boomed the Black Knight.
“If you could just point the way toward New York we’ll be on our way and-”
“None shall pass!”
“I think I heard that somewhere before,” said Sam.
“Thy tongue and garb art passing strange. Methinks thy band hails not from
this shore.”
"What did he say?” asked Fred.
“He said we look funny, and we’re probably not from around here,” I said.
“And right you are, Sir Knight,” I called across the clearing (I threw in that
“Sir” part because they always talk like that in knight books). “We are not
from around here. And we would just as soon get out of here. So if you would
just point that long sharp stick of yours-”
“Silence, infidels, or mayhap enchatiters, in thy weird robes and boots.”
We looked at each other. We were all wearing jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers.
We looked at the Black Knight. He had on pointed metal shoes, armored pants,
an armored coat with hinges at the elbows and shoulders, and a huge metal
helmet that looked like a black bell, all topped off with a fluffy black
feather. His horse was likewise done up in a black skirt, a black saddle big
as an armchair, and a matching helmet thing with a fluffy black feather.
“Weird robes and boots?” said Sam. “Look who’s talking-the Tin Man with
feathers. He even dresses his horse funny.”
“Enough of thy evil spells and chants, magicians. Prepare to die.”
“I think I liked ‘None shall pass’ better than that ‘Prepare to die’ stuff,”
said Sam.
The Black Knight flipped down the visor on his helmet.
“Do something,” said Fred.
“Like what?” I said.
“Like . . . like... like, say some magic words!” The Black Knight spurred
his horse into a trot.
“Please? Thank you?”
“Not those magic words, you idiot. Real magic words. Like the ones your
Uncle Joe uses.”
“Abracadabra?”
The horse picked up speed. “Hocus-pocus!” I shouted. “Eenie, meenie, mynie,
mo!”
The Black Knightthundered toward us, his lance pointed directly at us.
We were about to be killed more than a thousand years before we were even
born.
TWO
BUT before the Black Knight arrives, maybe I should explain how three
regular guys happened to find themselves facing death by shish-kebab.
It all started with my birthday party. My two best friends, Fred and Sam,
were over at my house. We were just sitting around the kitchen table doing
birthday kinds of things. You know-eating junk, drinking soda, looking at the
baseball my sister gave me.
My mom started scooping up wrapping paper to throw away. That’s when Sam
found the other present.
“Hey, Joe, here’s one you missed.” Sam held up a small rectangular present.
It was wrapped in black and gold paper.
“Who’s it from?”
My mom read the card and made a sour face. “Your uncle Joe.”
“Yahoo!”
Uncle Joe was the best uncle anybody could have. He was a magician for a
traveling circus. And his presents were always the best. Uncle Joe’s stage
name was “Joe the Magnificent.” I was named after him. “Before he went off the
deep end,” my mother always added.
“The card says ‘Happy Birthday, Magician-in-training. Be careful what you
wish for. You might get it.’ “
“This is weird paper,” said Sam, wiggling the present back and forth in the
light.
“I’ll bet it’s one of those disappearing coin trick boxes,” said Fred.
I took the present. “Maybe it’s a magic cape that can make things
disappear.”
“That would have come in handy last year. You could have used itto make all
of those rabbits disappear.” Mom still had her sour face on.
“Well, that wasn’t really Uncle Joe’s fault,” I said. “I gave the hat the
wrong command.”
“Come on, already. Open it,” said Fred. I pulled back the black and gold
paper and lifted it up.
“It’s a.. . It’s a.. .“
“Aw, it’s just a book,” said Fred, rolling my baseball around the table.
And it was a book, But it wasn’t like any book I had ever seen before, It
was such a dark, dark blue that it looked almost black, like the sky at night.
It had gold stars and moons along the back edge, and twisting silver designs
on the front and back that looked like writing from a long time ago.
I looked closer and read the title. “The Book.”
“Great name for a book,” said Sam.
Mom looked relieved.
“Hey, let me see.” Fred dropped the baseball on the kitchen table and
grabbed The Book out of my hand.
“Wait a minute, Fred. Be careful.”
Fred opened The Book.
There was a picture of a guy on a black horse standing on a path at the edge
of a small clearing. He was dressed from head to toe in black armor like you
see in those books about knights and castles. He didn’t look very happy.
“Oh, man,” said Fred. “Wouldn’t it be great to see knights and all that
stuff for real ?“
Wisps of pale green mist began to swirl around the kitchen chairs.
“Joseph Arthur! Close that book and stop that smoking this instant.”
I grabbed The Book and slammed it shut.
The mist rose over the table, the stove, the refrigerator.
Mom and the kitchen disappeared.
And for just a second, I got that feeling you get when you dream you’re
falling. Then the mist and the feeling were gone. And Fred, Sam, and I were
standing at the edge of the clearing. We stood at one end of a small path. At
the other end stood the Black Knight.
THREE
The Black Knight thundered toward us, his lance pointed directly at us.
“Wait. I’ve got it,” said Fred. And he grabbed our arms and pulled us
together. “You guys stay close. On the count of three, Joe, you and Sam jump
to the left. I’ll jump to the right. One. . .“
The Black Knight was so close I could see the straps on his armor.
“Two.. .“
I could see the buckles on the straps.
“Three!”
We jumped. The Black Knight clanked by like a runaway train.
“Strike one,” said Sam.
Fred jumped back on the path. He stuck his thumbs in his ears and waggled
his fingers, shouting, “Nyah, nyah, you missed us. Nyah nyah, na nyah nyah.”
“Fred, are you nuts? What are you doing?” I yelled. “Let’s get out of here
before he gets that horse turned around.”
“That’s just what we want,” said Fred. “He’s too heavy and slow to hit us.
We’ll wear him out.” And then he yelled to the Black Knight, “Come on, you big
tin can. Give it another shot.”
Sam and I stood back on the path. “Oh, great idea, Fred,” said Sam. “He
didn’t kill us the first time, so let’s give him another chance. I wonder if
his mother ever told him it’s not polite to point sharp things at other
people?”
“Stand as men, you cursed knaves,” roared the Black Knight. He seemed even
more unhappy than he was before.
“Yeah, yeah,” yelled Fred. “Come and get us, Tin Man.”
The Black Knight yelled back, “Prepare to die, foul-mouthed enchanters.”
“I know you are, but what am I?” said Sam. “Same thing on three,” said Fred.
“One. . .“ The Black Knight trotted toward us. “Two . . .“
We could hear his saddle squeaking, and his horse huffing and snorting.
“Three . . .“
We jumped. The lance whistled through nothing but air.
“Stee-rike two,” called Sam.
“One more ought to just about do it,” said Fred, picking up a hefty stick.
And then he yelled, “Your mother was a sardine can.”
The Black Knight turned and raised his visor. He didn’t look mad anymore. He
looked positively crazy.
“Demon sorcerers. Foul wizards. Vanish not into the mists. Stand and die.”
“I really wish he would stop using that ‘D’ word,” said Sam.
The Black Knight kicked his horse into a trot.
“One . . .
He aimed his lance at us once more.
“Two . . .
His horse stumbled and wheezed.
“Three!”
We jumped. The horse clomped slowly past us. The Black Knight waved his
lance weakly over our heads. Fred jumped up, swung his stick with all his
might, and whacked the back of the Black Knight’s helmet.
Booonnnggg!!!
The helmet rang like a thousand church bells. The Black Knight sat up
straight, wobbled, and then fell to the ground with an armored crash.
His horse stopped and lowered its head, sweating mightily and still gasping
for air, but looking pretty relieved about dropping its heavyweight passenger.
“Going, going, gone! That one’s outta here,” said Sam. “Now let’s do
likewise before Mr. Fun wakes up and starts with that ‘Prepare to die’ stuff
again.”
“No hurry now,” I said. “With all that armor on, he won’t be able to get up
by himself when he does come to.’’
Fred gave the fallen Black Knight another whack with his stick, and planted
a sneaker on his chest.
“All hail, Sir Fred,” I said.
“All hail, Sir-eek,” said Sam.
“Sir Eek?”
Sam pointed to the edge of the clearing. Three more knights on horses, with
swords drawn, were galloping down the path toward us.
FOUR
The three knights charged. Ten feet away, they stopped. The lead knight,
carrying a white shield with a red cross, raised a huge sword over his head
and . . . and . . . and said, “Hail, Sir Fred.”
“Hail, Sir Fred,” said the two knights behind him.
“Whew,” said Sam.
“Whew?” asked the tall knight with the red-cross shield.
“He means Whew and Greetings, Sir Knights. Are we glad to see you,” I said.
“Praise Jesu, but you sirs speak fair strange as thy dress. You must be of
very strong magic to vanquish yon Black Knight with a mere oaken staff.”
The pile of armor wiggled a leg and moaned.
“For he hast slew many of our good knights of the Round Table.”
“For real? The Round Table?” I said.
“Aye. Know you of our Fellowship?”
“What did he say?” asked Fred.
摘要：

THETIMEWARPTRIOKnightsoftheKitchenTablebyJonScieszkaPUFFINBOOKSONEHalt,vileknaves.Preparetodie.”“Ish...

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