Uncle Jake laughed. "Listen kid, you were knee-deep in trouble and you know it. Face it, some of the bad guys have to be handled by adults."
"Well, I'm a bad guy and you're an adult. Let's see how you handle me?" Puck retorted.
"Boys!"
Granny shouted. "That's enough of this nonsense!"
Puck's face crinkled like he had just smelled a rotten egg. He huffed and shoved his sword back into his belt and then turned toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Granny Relda asked.
"Away, old lady!" the boy snapped as he thrust the doors open. Before anyone could stop him, Puck was gone. Granny watched after him with worried eyes.
Sheriff Hamstead hobbled over to the group. His overworked belt had broken during the melee and he was having a terrible time keeping his pants up. "Relda, are you and the children OK?"
"Yes, yes, just a little shaken up. Was anyone hurt?"
"Not seriously," Hamstead answered as he looked around to be sure. "I've gotten the mayor, Mr. Seven, and Ms. White to safety and I'm asking everyone to go home."
"Of course," Granny Relda said.
"Sheriff Hamstead! How are you doing? It's been a long time," Uncle Jake said, hugging the policeman. Sabrina looked over at her sister. Apparently the "hugging thing" that Daphne was always doing ran in the family. Uncle Jake squeezed the man so tightly, Hamstead was unable to stop his pants from slipping down to his ankles, revealing boxer shorts with little pink cupids on them.
"Uh… do I know you, mister?" the sheriff said, with his face squished against Jake's chest.
Uncle Jake stepped back in surprise. "Know me? Of course you know me."
"Sheriff, this is my son Jacob," Granny Relda said. Hamstead quickly pulled up his pants. "Relda, I didn't know you had another son," he said. "Ernest, what are you talking about?" Uncle Jake said. "You don't remember my brother and me? You caught us cutting school all the time. You took Hank and me down to the jail and locked us in a cell once. You told us that kids who skipped class had to go to prison and break rocks. It scared us half to death. We never cut again."
The sheriff studied Uncle Jake's face closely, but it was obvious to anyone that he didn't recognize the man. "Sorry, son. I have to chase down a lot of truants."
"But--"
Granny took her son by the sleeve and pulled him toward the exit before he could finish his sentence. "Let us know if you need any help, Sheriff."
She hustled the family outside and across the parking lot, where they found Mr. van Winkle sound asleep in his cab. Elvis had crawled into the front seat and was also snoring happily with his head resting on the old man's lap. The sack with the mozzarella-and-pepper sandwich had been torn open and its contents consumed. When Elvis let out a rather loud burp, Sabrina knew it wouldn't take a detective to figure out who had stolen the cab driver's lunch.
"You're not still using cars to get around, are you?" Uncle Jake said. "Why not use a flying carpet or something in the teleportation room? Mirror has all kinds of stuff!"
"I prefer to do some things the old-fashioned way," Granny said. Uncle Jake rolled his eyes.
Granny Relda opened the car door and pushed down on the horn.
The cabbie jumped in his seat. "Sweet mother of pearl!" he shouted. "What? Is it over all ready?"
"We're ready to go."
Mr. van Winkle rubbed his tired eyes and looked down at Elvis. Then he noticed the remains of his lunch.
"This dog is a menace," he complained.
The big dog licked his lips with an expression that seemed to say, "Who? Me?"
"Elvis, that's not very nice," Granny said. "We'll stop on the way home and get you something to eat, Mr. van Winkle."
"And a cup of coffee," Sabrina grumbled as she climbed into the front seat next to the gassy dog.
*
By the time Mr. van Winkle pulled the cab into the driveway of the family's two-story yellow house, everyone was a nervous wreck. Granny shoved a handful of bills into the cabbie's hands.
"Thanks for the ride," the old woman said. "And Merry Christmas to you."
Mr. van Winkle seemed pleased with his tip. "Sure, lady. And remember, the next time you need fast, reliable, and friendly service, call me," he said as he shoved business cards into everyone's hands. "But next time the furball stays home." Moments later he was gone.
"This place hasn't changed at all," Uncle Jake said as he marveled at the little house. "I bet there's still a dozen Frisbees on the roof."
"Things don't change much in Ferryport Landing," Granny said as she climbed the porch steps to the front door and began to unlock it.
"Wait a minute! I know something that's different. Why isn't the house decorated for the holidays?"
The old woman blushed as if she was ashamed.
"When we were kids, this place had so many lights on it you could probably see it from space," Uncle Jake told the girls. "The electric bill was so thick they had to spiral-bind it."
"We've been a bit busy lately," Granny Relda explained.