An Interlude from Caution - Miscreant's Welcome !

        “I wish you could be more precise. I really don’t know what you mean”

If only it were as easy as that. The two boulders of men grabbed me by arms and placed the handcuffs on me, tightly. As if I were one of the people on The World’s Most Wanted List. But I wasn’t, was I ?

As long as I cared to know, and as long as I cared to look back, I had been what you could call a “very cautious guy”. You know, the kind of guy who turns down an invitation to a Friday night party on a college campus known especially for it’s “rad” parties, just because he has to go over the study material for the Physics test the next day, for the fifth time. The kind of guy who looks thrice before crossing the street. And just to hit the point home, I live in a town where there are around two hundred of us. Chestershire is a small place with an even smaller working population. Out here, you either farm or you drink. But every once in a while, you find a “nutter” like me, who wishes to go to college. Why would you want to do that ? I don’t know. I’d like to think I wont be spending the rest of my life in this wasteland. 

I digress. The two men. Handcuffs on me. I have no idea what’s going on. Or maybe I do ? This has got to be one of those practical jokes that Christopher and Archie thought it’d be a nice idea to play, a fortnight before the important Mathematics test. Rationalizing my abduction as the whim of two less than enthused students with a lot of time on their hands, I played along. Because really, they weren’t in Berkeley to study physics. Berkeley was their playground. Again, who goes to college to actually study ? Revolting, I know.

“Okay, okay, but if you’re going to take me along, at least be gentle” I said softly, but that prompted the first man, who I gathered by the name tag on his collar pocket, to be Ringo, to manhandle me with even more gusto. Ringo ; an apt name for a man of this size. Maybe the other one was a Charlie. I’d have to see. He seemed to be more invested in keeping his identity hidden. I stole a glance at his collar pocket as they ushered me into an empty parking lot. No name tag. Right. It’s Ringo and Mr. Y, I said to myself. 

Why “Y” ? X seems to be cliched, doesn’t it ? And I hate cliches.

I am led to an air base in what I can only describe as a really uncomfortable ride. That may have to do with the fact that I had been dropped into the trunk with my eyes bound by a thick sheet of cloth, and not sitting on the cushion like leather seats ahead. But if Christopher and Archie thought that this was going to rattle me, they clearly hadn’t done their homework. An irony of a statement in more than one way. I had been well prepared for the test. Equations rattling off the top of my head, heck, I’d even dreamt of enjoying a grand dinner with Euclid and Pythagoras the previous night. Charming fellows, the two, just a bit too quiet for my liking. I was prepared to sit it out in some dinghy basement, if this is where it was leading, and finally, on the final day before the test, as sure as the dawn of day would come, my two friends would spring up on me and yell out in jubilation the cliched exclamation, “Surprise !”.

Although, I must admit, that for a prank of this scale, they sure had pulled out all the stops. These two men looked mean and like they meant business. Where had they hired these stage actors from ? The Theatre department at Berkeley ? Nah. They didn’t look like they belonged to there. The Theatre Department at Berkeley is soft and flaky, you see. And I don’t use the metaphor for the department itself, I mean the people who are in it. They are not the kind who’d agree to partake in a prank of this nature. “Action ?” they’d ask, in an attempt to make sure that the performance had indeed begun. These two men, they didn’t look like they’d ever waited on direction in their lives. 

I was hauled out of the back of the jeep and led into a small aircraft that had a capacity of ten .It looked like a fighter jet, except much longer and much bulkier. We took off and flew over the turquoise blue water’s of the Pacific.

It sure was a sweet sight.

So they’d even managed to charter a plane somehow. Those two broke bumholes. I wonder how many strings they’d pulled to get me here. Now what ? I’m led to an island and dropped off as a castaway ? Sure, I could do that. Tom Hanks handed us the blueprint years ago. I've been familiarizing myself with it ,just for times like these.

The aircraft starts descending and I can see a small yacht below, floating like it’s a Sunday afternoon out here in the middle of nowhere. “Jump” says Ringo, and before I can assent to or decline his polite offer, he grabs hold of me and flings me out into the serene waters of the Pacific.

“He didn’t have to do that” I think to myself as I’m halfway through my descent. “Oh well, as long as it pleases my friends”. I hit the water and sink a couple of feet below it, before I finally float up and gasp for air. “So long, assholes”, I yell to the departing aircraft. I can see the slimy face of “Mr. Y” looking down on me and smiling. Yeah, maybe he was one of those Berkeley kids.

It’s like a hand-off, of sorts. From the jeep, to the aircraft, to now this yacht. I am thrown a rope by the yacht hand, who tells me I should grab it before it’s too late. “Shark territory” he calls out. I need no second invitation. I climb aboard the vessel and reprimand the yacht hand as he hands me a towel to dry off,

“Shark territory ? Really ? Christ, whatever happened to playing nice once in a while ?"

The young man looked at me peculiarly and then smiled. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Daniels”.

“Thanks”, I reply grudgingly. “Where are we anyways ?”.

The young man, whose blonde hair I find myself looking enviously at, simply stares at me and continues smiling.

“Right, no answer. Pina coladas ?” I ask with a hopeful intonation, but I suppose I’ve stretched my luck too far.

“Follow me, Mr. Daniels”.

 I concede. We go down the steps and into the captains deck. This is far too luxurious for a prank orchestrated by two guys tethering at the ropes of calling back home to ask for “some extra money to get by”. The Captain, for who else could it have been, his hand on the wheel and in his sparkling white uniform, turned around and extended his hand forward. “You made it”. There is an eerie familiarity about the face in front of me. It looks like one of those faces you see on billboards driving down the road to mama’s house, and every time you pass it, you feel the sense of coming home. That same smiling look that tells you, “You’re almost here”.

“What is this ?” I finally ask, but it’s not in keeping with how things have played out so far. Am I not willing to go along with the shenanigans anymore ? Okay, I’ve got to stop and consider a possibility I may not have considered before.

This is weird.

Even for a…Hang on a second. How could I be so thick ? This can’t be a prank. Who does stuff like this in real life ? Real life isn’t this weird, troublesome and high stakes. Even for their own amusement, its hard to envisage Archie and Christopher going to such lengths, although they are quite anti-establishment. Rebelling comes naturally to them .

Am I in trouble ? Or worse yet, tangible danger ?

“You are not in trouble” says the Captain reading my mind and the grabs my limp hand and shakes it . “Welcome to the club, my friend”.

The Club ?

 “What club ?”

“The Miscreants Club. Over here, your only job is to partake in a life full of adventure and odd little escapades. All we ask of you, is to let go of the normal. We are in dire need of some entertainment around here, Mr. Alexander Daniels. We trust you will help us out with that”

“Who is ?” I turn around and watch the yacht hand who is now playing a flute and making merry of the sun out on the deck. I see a plane approach in the distance. It’s the same plane I was in moments earlier.

“The people of The Miscreant’s Club of course ! We are at your mercy, Mr. Daniels”

“Fun? Wha..Why ? But I…But I’m a Physics student at the University of Berkeley !” I plead in indignation.

“Yeah, Berkeley” says the Captain gravely. “You never wondered why we chose you ? We were very deliberate in our choice, Mr. Daniels. You see, we’ve been keeping tabs on you for about…just about long enough. And you my friend, are as far away from living a colourful life as anyone I know. Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it ? A colourless life without a dose of the weird and the nonsensical. So, we concluded that if we could turn you into somebody who you aren’t, which is basically somebody people like being around, we could set an example, you know ? Because you are going to show them that not all hope is lost. If you can agree to us initiating you into our highly secretive club, imagine what that’d do to the next man who wanders into the Physics department at Berkeley. You do see , don’t you ? You’ve been living a life that is at best, a big plain old hoot, Alexander. “

“I’ve been quite happy with my life” I say defiantly. “The Miscreant’s Club”. I say it with a scoff. “ And so I agree to indulge you in this passion of yours. The passion for fun. What’s in it for me ?”

“Fun ?”

It’s a big leap, from studying complex, highly structured mathematical equations to conversing with this ape of a man, who seems to think that the world revolves around the idea of one word, that frankly, I am growing sick of. “Fun”. Even Archie and Christopher couldn’t be as buffoonish in their assumptions about the workings of our world as this man’s observations seem to lean towards. There is a lot more to life than having fun. I enjoy my peace, my solitude, my own compa…

I’m grabbed by the yacht hand from behind, dragged to the deck upwards and thrown overboard into the Ocean. “We are glad to have you on-board, Mr. Daniels” says the captain stepping out and waving to me gleefully. It has been a day of ironical statements. Like clockwork, a submarine appears from the distance, speeding towards me like an incoming shark. “Not this again” I groan. My feet are dragged below the water and I am ushered into the little torpedo like structure. “Okay, okay, I’m getting in. Get your hand’s off. Hey…”

This time I see a familiar face. And it is a freckled, spectacled face I recognize quite well. The bruise on his right cheek gives him away. He had been brave and daft enough to pick a fight with one of the guys on the hockey team.. “Christopher ?” I look at him in a mix of bewilderment and disbelief. “What are you doing here ?”

“What do you think ?” He points feebly to a banner that’s above him, and on it, spelled out in bold red letters, “THE MISCREANTS CLUB”.

“They are corny, aren’t they ?” he says with a sigh.

“I….Okay” I say gathering myself. “Where’s Archie ?”

“Didn’t you see the plane on your way here ?”

The plane. Yes of course. In the near vicinity, there is a loud splash.

“We’ve got 5 minutes until pick up” says Commander of Submarine, Rodney Spike whose name I can make out again from the name tag on his collar pocket. “Wanna play a game of cards ?” he asks the man who has dragged me in. “Sure”

There is nothing for us to do but wait. Neither of us are good swimmers, and even if we were, weren’t we paying attention to the guy ? These are shark infested waters. There’s no good trying to make an escape. I sigh reluctantly. Yeah, best remain seated. Play it safe.

Minutes pass.

There’s a knock on the door. I don’t have to wait to see who it is, I mean who else could it be, considering the events of the past hour or so. Archie settles into his seat, shaking his head of seaweed and water and looks up at us excitedly.

“You’re never going to believe what we have in store of us. Check this out.” He procures a golden key from his pocket and displays it as if it’s an ancient artifact. “This, my clueless friends, is the key to a life of adventure and freedom. We can take this beauty anywhere we want. Anywhere in the world. Right ? How cool is that ?”

Anywhere in the world.

Me and Christopher look at each other, our blank faces making way for a couple of cunning, devilish smiles.

“I’ve always wondered whether Mr. Henry was lying about that lakeside cabin of his. What do you think, Archie ?” says Christopher turning towards our friend.

“Mr. Henry? The Math guy ? I had no idea he had a lakeside cabin.” There is silence for a few minutes before I proffer my attempt at a resolution.

“Maybe we can find out ?”. My friends eyes light up in excitement.

Maybe we can find out !

“I think we’re good here. “ calls Archie towards the Submarine Command. “Hey man, where do I insert this key ? Hurry up. We’ve got places to go. These guys “ he says pointing towards Rodney and his card playing partner scornfully. “A bunch of twaddlers if I ever came across any”.