Madeleine

The One Where Milo Disturbs The Dirt

Madeleine's POV

At the crack of dawn, Milo leaned over the edge of the boat and vomited as the ship's horn was blown. I rubbed his back slowly, glancing out at the open sea. "Carrots. Why is there always carrots? I didn't even eat carrots." Milo muttered, gagging again.

I handed him a handkerchief and he wiped his mouth, thanking me. I marveled at our surroundings, "The ocean is beautiful at this time of the morning." I stretched my arms out along the railing. "It is." Milo agreed. We enjoyed the serenity of the waves until an announcement from the speakers was broadcasted.

"Attention. All hands to the launch bay. To whoever took the 'L' from the motor pool sign, ha ha, we are all very amused."

Milo grabbed his bag and my hand, and lead the way. Once inside, we approached a very familiar face. "Excuse me?" We need to, uh, report in," Milo said. "Yes, Mr Thatch?" the one and only Helga Sinclair turned to face us.

"Ah! I-It's you-!" I stammered.

"Blondie! I got a bone to pick with you!" a small man interrupted as a crane lowered the cargo crates he was sitting on. "Hold that thought," Helga told us as she rolled her eyes and went to the small man. "What is it this time, Cookie?"

"You done stuffed my wagon full to bustin' with non-essentials. Look at all this," Cookie grabbed a crate and began pulling out ingredients. "Cinnamon, oregano, cilantro. What in the cockadoodle is cilantro?" he tossed the crate away and shattering glass could be heard. (I can hear this scene😂.)

"And what is this?" he held up a lettuce. "That would be lettuce," answered Helga. "Lettuce? Ugh- lettuce?" Cookie replied with a revolted expression. "It's a vegetable Cookie." Helga snatched it out of his hand.  "The men need the four basic food groups."

"I got your four basic food groups!" Cookie held up three fingers. "Beans, bacon, whiskey and lard!" I immediately thought about the diner back home. They had good food and for some reason, I was not looking forward to eating Cookie's cooking.

"I miss the diner food already," I whispered. "Yeah me too," Milo whispered back with a scrunched nose. We were startled by the sudden blaring of an alarm. "Alright cowboy, pack it up and move out," Helga ordered Cookie, shoving him backwards.

"Attention. All hands to the launch bay. Final loading in progress."

Milo and I followed the dozens of soldiers to the elevator. We were taken to the launch bay and both of us couldn't help gawking at the gigantic submarine which was called the Ulysses. "Wow! It's magnificent" I exclaimed. "Hey, junior," a voice said as a trolley got pushed into Milo's back.

We both turned around. "If you're looking for the money rides, they're back there." "E-Excuse me?" Milo called after him. "You dropped your, uh, dy-dynamite." The man pulled his truck back, taking the red stick off of Milo. "What else have you, uh, got in there?"

"Oh, you know, gunpowder, nitroglycerin, notepad, fuses, wicks, glue, ehhh, paper clips. Big ones." He gestured the size with his hands.
"Just office supplies," he shrugged. He quickly left.

"Milo! Mads! Where you been?"
Mr. Whitmore approached. "I want you two to meet Commander Rourke. He led the Iceland team that brought the journal back,"

"Milo and Madeleine Thatch," the Commander acknowledged. Milo and I practically dropped our bags in order to shake hands with him. "Pleasure to finally meet the grandchildren of old Thaddeus." "I see you two got that journal. Nice pictures but I prefer a good western myself," Rourke turned back to us.