Anthony Lyle was born and raised in the mid-west. He is a child of the 60's and 70's, having graduated from Washington High in 1974. He served for a brief stint in the Air Force during the Vietnam Era. He tried his hand at different jobs until around 1986, when he found his niche in computer programming. He obtained his B.S. in Computer Science in 1997
The Peculiar, Perplexing Mr. Pickle
By Anthony LyleAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Anthony Lyle
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4772-1209-7Chapter One
Out with the Old!
"Unhand me, you vile witch! How dare you lay your wicked hands on Blackbeard the Terrible! I'll have you walking the plank. I'll have your head for this!" The kicking, screaming young boy struggled to get free from the older woman's arm around his body.
Miss McGillicutti carried the ten-year-old, screaming pirate to his bed and dumped him there. He reached under his pillow for his spare wooden sword and pulled it out swinging it at her head. She barely ducked in time! He then swatted her on the butt! She cried out and ran out of the room.
It wasn't long after that, that one could hear the father of the house begging her to give them one more shot. She turned to him, carrying her single bag in her arm with a sneer, looking down her nose at him through her glasses, which rested on the end of her nose. "My dear sir, you don't have children! You have demons and ... and ... pirates!" She shook her head angrily. "Good day, sir!" She turned and left the house, slamming the front door behind her.
He sighed and turned to see his wife standing with a worried look on her face. "Oh dear, what ever shall we do now? Summer is coming and we have no one to watch the children."
"I sometimes wonder if she isn't right," he muttered.
"Rupert Snodgrass! You take that back. Our children are just over stimulated, that's all." She was very defensive of her children. Tiffany knew that her children could be a little unruly at times, but they were, after all, just children.
He sighed. "I know, but that's the third nanny we've lost in just as many months. The last time I tried to find one, I had more hang-up calls than I have as a salesman in a week!"
"Well, we'll simply have to find one. We can't leave them unattended."
Susie sighed in frustration at her brother. "Well, now you've done it. You've chased off another nanny! Now they'll probably have to send us to one of those dreadful summer camps where we never get to see anyone for an entire summer!"
"It wasn't my fault. She wouldn't listen to reason when I told her that I still had pirate treasure to find before I went to bed!" Michael Snodgrass was nine, but in his mind he was Blackbeard the Terrible, or Blackbeard the Pirate. He was constantly conquering British navies or searching for lost treasure. He even had several wooden swords and the matching hat to boot. His only regret was that he wasn't yet old enough to have a beard that he could set on fire like the real Blackbeard used to do.
Susie and Michael heard sobbing. "I don't want to go to summer camp." They turned to the small voice of their youngest sister, Annie. Annie was six and for the most part was an innocent pawn in her older brother's and sister's wicked schemes. As a result, she sometimes took the blame for things that she didn't do, but that was the way it was being the youngest of three children.
"Oh, they won't send us to summer camp." Susie frowned and rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they'll find someone else to come watch us." Susie Snodgrass was the oldest of the three at age twelve. She tried to pretend that she was the most mature, but often as not, she was just as much of a handful as the other two put together.
Annie hung her head and a tear dropped out, and she reached down to pick up the family cat. The cat tried to get away but was too late, having failed to see the little girl over her. Annie held her close and forced her to her lap. The cat, Nancy Drew, was named after the famous girl detective because, well, cats can find anything.
"What if they don't find anyone? What if they have to send us away?" Annie whined.
"Now you're just being silly!" Susie shook her head firmly. "They're our parents, and they love us—even when you two are rotten to the core!"
"Am not!" Annie frowned at her sister. "You are!"
"Yeah, you're worse than us." Michael sided with Annie on this one.
Susie just rolled her eyes and sighed in the obviously much more mature manner of adults. She went to the door and turned to them. "Oh, good night, for heaven's sakes." She left to go to her room.
Annie looked at Michael. "You don't think they'll send us away, do you?"
"No, but I think we might have to worry about who we get to replace that old hag. I say good riddance to her. She was never any fun anyway!"
"Well, she did help me dress my dolls sometimes."
"Only because she didn't want to see them without clothes. It wasn't because she cared about you."
Annie sighed and nodded slightly in agreement. "So maybe they'll get someone nice this time."
"Maybe, but I think we kind of ran out of nannies."
Rupert Snodgrass sighed as he crossed another name off of his list. He had been trying for two days now to find someone else, and no one would even talk to him. Three agencies had all told him that his kids had a terrible reputation. Were his kids really that awful? Sometimes they could be a handful, but still, they were just kids.
Tiffany Snodgrass came into the office and smiled sadly. "No one?"
He shook his head. "I'm beginning to wonder if our kids are as terrible as they tell us."
"I'm sure that it's just a matter of finding the right nanny, dear. You'll think of something. You always do."
Chapter Two
In with the New
The kids watched from a bedroom window as the movers took furniture into the house next door. "Wow, they sure have weird furniture. Did you see that lamp? It was really old."
Susie rolled her eyes. "Oh, they probably just have refined taste ... or maybe they're wicked old."
"Ew, old people?" Annie wrinkled her face. "That means no kids."
"Well, maybe they have some grandkids," Michael mused. "Then I can conquer them and take all of their gold and make them walk the plank!" He stepped from the window and waved his hand around wildly as if he had a sword in his hand already. He laughed cruelly. "Take that, you British Swabbies!"
Susie groaned, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, heaven help me. Why did I get stuck with such idiots for a brother and sister?"
"I'm not an idiot!" Annie defended herself, frowning.
"Me neither!" Michael held his arm out at her and threatened her with his imaginary sword.
They continued to watch until it was obvious that there were no kids or toys being taken into the house. They wandered downstairs, where they watched their allotted hour of TV and waited for dinner.
"Pork roast again!" Michael whined. "Why can't we have roast pig?"
Susie giggled and Michael looked at her angrily. "What's so funny, lizard breath?"
"What's so funny is that pork roast is roasted pig!" Susie stuck her tongue out at him.
He looked at his mother and father. "Is that true?"
They both smiled and nodded. He frowned. "Well, it doesn't look like a pig."
"That's because it's cut up, stupid."
"Now, Susie, that wasn't nice."
"Sorry. It's cut up, moron."
Both parents rolled their eyes and sighed.
Annie suddenly looked horrified. "You mean this is pig meat? Ew. I don't like pig meat."
Susie smiled at her condescendingly. "You've been eating it for years!"
"Well, but I don't like it now!" Annie refused to eat the meat.
"Did you kids see who was moving in next door?" Tiffany decided to change the subject.
"Some old people it looks like." Susie sighed. "No kids that we could see."
"Oh, that's too bad. Did you see them?"
"Nah, just their stupid furniture that looks like it was made when Grandpa and Grandma were young." Michael did like pork roast now that he knew it was roasted pig! He had read where Blackbeard used to steal pigs from the farmers and roast them on his ship on an open spit. Though he didn't know how they could roast pigs over spit, in his mind, this was roasted pig, and that was the way a pirate should eat!
Tiffany and Rupert smiled at each other. "Well, I'm sure that they are very nice people, whoever they are."
"Not if they're grumpy old people like Grandpa," Michael muttered to himself.
"Your grandparents love you very much!" Rupert chided gently. He didn't say what he was thinking—that the kids kind of got under the grandparents' skin!
Michael saw the rotund bald man working in his yard. The man was down on his knees trimming some bushes when Michael saw his chance to capture some knave (even though he was still not sure what a knave was). He had his sword out, and he held it out toward the man. "Ahoy there, matey! Surrender before I have you beheaded and make you walk the plank!"
The man jumped up and looked at the boy. "Oh dear. They didn't tell me there were dangerous pirates on this block when I moved in! This can't be good. I'm afraid I don't have much gold to take."
Michael was immediately impressed. Finally someone recognized him for the pirate that he was! "Well, what have you got that I can rob?"
"Hmm? Oh dear, oh dear. That is a very good question." The little rotund man put a hand to face and tapped his cheek with a finger as he looked upward to think. "Let me see. Let me see. Ah, I know—I have a dagger made of the finest of silver."
"You do?" Michael dropped his sword as his mouth dropped open. "Can I see it?"
"I suppose, since you've threatened me with walking the plank. But if I show it to you, do I still have to walk the plank?"
Michael pondered that one. "Well, I suppose not since you gave me your booty."
"Very well. Let's see now; where did I put that fine dagger?" He turned and walked toward the house, and Michael followed without asking if he could. "I know I saw it when I unpacked yesterday—or was it the day before? Ho hum, ho hum, how the days do pass me by," he was muttering to himself more than Michael. "Ah yes, my study." He smiled and raised a hand, pointing a finger upward. "I remember now! Yes." He turned. "Uh, you'd best wait here. My pet doesn't like intruders."
"Pet? What kind of pet?"
"Why, a dragon of course. Doesn't everyone on this block own a dragon?" The man looked at him, perplexed. "I was clearly told that everyone on this block owned a dragon. You do own a dragon, don't you?"
Michael looked shocked. "No, all we have is a stupid ol' cat."
"Oh dear, oh dear. That is not good. I was clearly told that everyone had a dragon. Well, no matter. Wait here." He disappeared into the house and came back with a wooden dagger, but it was painted silver with a large ruby painted onto each side of the handle. He held it out to Michael. "I gladly surrender this dagger to the most famous of pirate in the land, Captain Blackbeard."
Michael beamed as he heard the compliment. "Thank you, sir." He took the dagger and looked at it. "This is fine booty, to be sure, and well worthy of sparing your life."
"Ah, then, a trade worth making! I kind of like my life," the man said, nodding.
Michael looked at him. "Uh, but I don't think my mom will let me keep it."
"How can she refuse? You won it fair and square, and you gave me my life in return for this fine dagger." He looked at Michael perplexed.
"Really? I can really have it?"
"I say, would Blackbeard ask such a silly question? I dare say not. Blackbeard does not ask—he commands!"
Michael beamed again and nodded. "Right, right. Thank you, sir." He ran back to the house.
"Mom, look! I captured this dagger from the man next door."
"You did? Oh, Michael, that's a fine dagger, but are you sure he meant for you to keep it?"
"He said so. He said that I won it fair and square in return for letting him live rather than walk the plank."
"I see. Well, if you're sure." Tiffany smiled. She had met the man earlier that day and found him to be a friendly sort. She wondered how he had such a dagger, though, after such a short time of hearing her talk about Michael and his pirates. It looked like it had been made a long time ago.
Later, she spoke to Rupert as they rested, having gotten the kids to bed. "I met the new neighbor. He goes by the name of Pickle. Odd name."
"Is that his first name or his last?"
"You know, now that you mention it, I'm not sure." She frowned. "But here's a strange thing. A very short time after I barely mention Michael's pirates, he gives Michael an old wooden dagger."
Rupert smiled. "Well, that was very nice of him. He must have had it saved up in some old trunk. You know how older people are about that kind of thing."
"Yes, he must have. He certainly couldn't have made it in that short of time. It was quite nice. Michael was in heaven the rest of the day!"
"I'll bet, having won booty from the neighbor already?" Rupert teased. They paused. "Pickle, huh? Well, odd name."
Tiffany chuckled. "And get this. He told Michael that he had a pet dragon! He told Michael that he was told that everyone on this block had a pet dragon."
Rupert laughed. "Must be quite an old man."
"That's the thing. I'm not sure how old he is. He could be old, but then he could easily be our age too." She frowned, slightly puzzled by the thought.
"Somebody help!" The little voice cried out louder than would be thought from a little girl. "Help!"
"Oh dear, oh dear. What seems to be the problem?" The older gentleman looked down at his young neighbor, Annie.
She pointed up at the roof and pointed at Nancy Drew trying to get down. "Nancy Drew is stuck and she can't get down."
"Oh dear, oh dear. Yes, indeed, she does seem to be stuck for sure." He frowned as he thought a moment.
"Can you get her down?" Annie looked up at him with tear filled eyes.
"Oh, me? Oh, heavens no. Oh dear, oh dear me. I could never get up there. Hmm, but let me think. There must be a way to get poor Nancy Drew down from there." He frowned in thought, put his hand to his face, and drummed his cheek with his finger. "Let's see. Let's see. Oh dear me." Finally, he smiled and pointed his finger upward. "Ah, I have it. A net! Wait here!" He left and came back with a long pole with a net at the end.
He reached up, but Nancy Drew would not get into the net. He frowned in puzzlement as Annie repeated what they knew. "She won't get in it. She must be scared."
"Indeed, indeed. What we need is something to make her not afraid! I have it!" He pointed a finger upward and then left, leaving the pole leaning against the house. He came back with a fish. Annie made a face as she smelled it. He smiled at her. "Well, I know it doesn't smell good to us, but I trust you'll find that Nancy Drew is not quite so picky about her food. She will smell this fish and forget about being afraid."
The old man put the fish into the net and raised it up. As soon as Nancy Drew smelled the fish, she was trying to get at it, forgetting about being on the roof, just as he'd predicted. Finally, she finally crawled carefully into the net to get at the fish, and he lowered her down.
Annie smiled and took the cat, who kept the fish in her mouth. "Nancy Drew! You're safe!" Then she turned to the man and smiled. "Thank you."
"Well, it was a matter of making Nancy Drew forget that she was afraid. Then she could do what she needed to do."
Annie didn't understand, but she was grateful for the cat's safety. "Mom! Mom! He saved Nancy Drew!" The girl ran into the house.
Tiffany came out and smiled and waved at him. Pickle waved back and returned to his house.
On the sidewalk in front of the man's house, Susie struggled with her bike. She kept falling over and couldn't seem to get a good start pedaling. By the time she threw the bike down in frustration, he was standing there, watching her.
She sighed. "I'll never figure out how to ride this stupid thing."
He came over, holding the garden hose that he was using to water his bushes. "That's because you're trying to do it with your eyes open."
"Huh? I have to ride with my eyes open. Otherwise I'll run into something."
"Obviously, but you will always run into what you're looking at."
"Huh? That doesn't make any sense."
"You keep looking down, and so you keep falling to the ground. If you look up you'll ride up."
She glanced at him, her face betraying that she thought he was being very strange. She got the bike up. "So you're saying if I look up, I'll be able to stay up?"
"Yes, oh dear, oh dear. Tilt your head WAYYY back so you can only see the sky." She did and started on the bike. She started to pedal and gasped as she suddenly felt herself riding the bike. She looked down and started to fall, but she quickly looked up, yelling with glee.
"I'm riding! I'm riding! I can ride it, finally!" She rode her bike back to the house and ran inside to tell her mother.
"You'll never guess what happened today." Tiffany looked at Rupert. "Susie learned to ride her bike, finally."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Peculiar, Perplexing Mr. Pickleby Anthony Lyle Copyright © 2012 by Anthony Lyle. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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