Jon Scieszka - Time Warp Trio 09 - See You Later, Gladiator.rtf

THE    TIME    WARP    TRIO

See You Later, Gladiator

by Jon Scieszka

I

"You who are about to die salute me!"

"You have got to be kidding," said Sam.

The big guy who had spoken waved a net and a long-handled pitchfork in front of Fred, Sam, and me.

"He sure doesn't look like he's kidding," said Fred.

The fork-waving guy crouched in front of us. He wore a loincloth and sandals and a mean look on his face.

"I swear I put The Book away in a safe spot so we wouldn't get time traveled into any more trouble," I said. "Maybe he isn't a real gladiator, and maybe this isn't really Rome two thousand years ago."

"Yeah," said Sam. "And maybe I'm Santa Claus and maybe this is the North Pole."

I looked around for a way out. We stood in the middle of a little outdoor arena about the size of a small backyard. A tall wooden wall circled all around us. Our sneakers sank into deep sand. There was no way to escape.

"Now fight," said the gladiator, getting impa­tient.

"I cannot believe I let myself get dragged into this thing again," said Sam.time-travel-try-to-find-that-disappearing-Book

"Ah, what's the big deal?" said Fred. "It's just a little accident. This could be a great chance to see some real wrestling."

"Just a little accident?" squeaked Sam, his voice rising like it does when he gets excited. "Then why don't you explain the little accident to our friend with the trident."

"With the what?" said Fred.

"With that big fork he's getting ready to poke us with," said Sam.

"Oh yeah. I knew that," said Fred.

Sam pushed Fred forward. Fred looked up at the gladiator. He looked back at Sam. "I got it under control." Fred took off his World Wrestling hat and bowed. "Greetings, gladiator guy. We have come from far away to see some real wrestling. See I was telling Sam that even I could whip this one guy named Gladiator back in our time, but I wasn't talking about—"

The gladiator twitched like a rattlesnake.

One second Fred was hold­ing  out his  hat.  The next second his hat was speared on the end of the trident.

"—about you ... I wasn't

talking." Fred stared at his suddenly empty hand.

The gladiator flipped Fred's hat off, then pointed the trident to three swords stuck in the sand. "Now fight."

Fred backed away slowly.

"We're not really the fighting kind of—"

"Arrrrggghhh!" the gladiator yelled, and at­tacked. We all dove and grabbed a sword.

"Oh man," said Fred. "That's not fair. These are made of wood."

Sam held his sword in front of him with two hands. "I don't think our new friend really plays fair. Do some magic, Joe. Say something. Get us out of here!"

I tried to think if I knew any gladiator knockout spells. I remembered reading some kind of gladi­ator spell in The Book. But as usual, that was our problem. We had to find The Book.

"Excuse me, Mr. Gladiator," I said. I didn't know exactly how you should talk to an ancient Roman gladiator. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to be polite. "My friends and I dropped in by acci­dent. And we'll be on our way just as soon as we find our Book."

The gladiator twirled his net. "I don't think we're getting through," said Sam. "There's three of us and only one of him," said Fred, suddenly braver now that I was the one in front of the guy's trident.

I had to think of something, quick—before the guy poked all three of us like overdone turkeys. Gladiators. Romans. The ancient Romans spoke Latin. I remembered that the gladiator spell had something to do with Latin.

The gladiator circled around us, moving in for the kill.

"Ix-nay on the ork-fay," I chanted.

The gladiator jabbed at us. We all jumped back.

"What the heck was that?" yelled Sam. "You're only making him mad."

"That's Latin," I said. "Or at least the only Latin I know. Pig Latin."

The gladiator twirled his net overhead and dropped it on us before we even knew what had hit us. He yanked a line. We fell in a heap on the sand.

"Ahhhh!" screamed Sam thrashing around with his sword, clonking Fred and me on the head.

"Op-stay! Eeze-fray!" I tried.

The gladiator stood over us and raised his tri­dent overhead.

"Oh-gay away-ay?" No good.

The Time Warp Trio was about to be stuck through with one cruel blow. And no magic trick— Pig Latin or otherwise—could save us now.

II

But before we get poked full of holes and lose our first (and maybe last) match of Time Warp Trio vs. the Gladiator, I should probably explain how we got into such a fix ... again.

I know it sounds funny, but it's all because of a book. The Book. A dark blue book with strange silver writing and symbols. My uncle Joe, who is a bit of a magician, gave it to me for my birthday. But he forgot to mention that this book can send its readers anywhere in time and space.

He also forgot to mention that after you go to these strange times and places, the only way to get back home is to find The Book.

You readers out there who have followed us be­fore know we found all of this out the hard way.

We found you can be walked off the plank by pirates. We found you can be attacked by freaky monsters from Greek mythology. We found you can be chased by your own great-grandkids. We found you can even be terrorized by characters from other books (like Frankenstein and Little House on the Prairie, to name just two very scary books). The one thing we've never really found out is how the heck to con­trol The Book. I had sworn to Fred and Sam that I would figure out how The Book works.

But I never really got a chance to. We were over at my house after school, as usual. Fred was jumping around all hyper after school, as usual. So Sam and I decided to take him down.

"Freak Fred takes on all challengers for the World Monsterweight Title!" hooted Fred, bounc­ing up and down on my bed.

"Stone Cold Sam and Joe the Show, Tag Team Champions of the Universe, accept your puny chal­lenge!" yelled Sam, launching himself off my chair, going for Fred's head.

"Three-Way Smackdown!" I yelled, diving at Fred's legs.

We smashed into a pileup. We brawled onto the floor. We jammed Fred into the corner by my desk.

"Atomic Butt Squash!" Sam howled, sitting on Fred's head.

Fred rolled out with both arms over his head. "DQ! DQ for disgusting move!" He staggered around, pretending to be dazed. Then he suddenly charged and tried to ram me with a two-handed pile driver. I slid him off with a judo block.

"Joe the Show knows ancient fighting arts," I said. "Use your opponent's strength against him. Ha!"

I spun and pushed Fred past me, driving him into the side of my bookshelf.

The bookshelf wobbled.

"Hiiiiii-yah!" Sam piled on.

The bookshelf teetered.

"Oooooff!" Fred squirmed around and some­how twisted on top of both of us. "One, two, three, pin!" He jumped up and raised his arms in victory. "Your new Monsterweight Champion of the World—Freak Fred!"

"Boooo," said Sam, still slumped on the floor.

Fred continued his victory lap around the room. "Freak Fred rules all wrestlers! The Hunk, Man Mountain, Killer Kowalski, the Exterminator, the Gladiator—I could pin 'em all with one hand tied behind my back!"

Fred bounced on the bed, which knocked against the desk, which bumped into the bookshelf again.

And that's exactly when a book fell off the top shelf. It dropped onto the bed and fell open to a picture of an ancient Roman gladiator, armed with a net and a trident, standing in a small, wooden-walled, sand-covered arena.

Now this would have been a very amazing and funny coincidence if the book had been any other book. But because this book happened to be a cer­tain blue Book with strange silver writing and symbols on it, this was a very unfortunate and not very funny coincidence.

A familiar green time-traveling mist swirled around our Three-Way Smackdown. And before any of us even had a chance to say "Oh no," or ...