Ships Ahoy!

The Boss

WARNING: Some minor PG-13 content in this chapter, for implied horror themes and drug use. NOT for shipping reasons.

It was the spring of 1971 when Oprah and O'Donahue got their first and only American case in Ironton, Ohio. It was also the first and only case that was way out of their league—in more ways than one.

"So is the problem with your TV or your son?" Oprah asked the woman, looking back and forth between her and the device in question.

"I honestly couldn't say!" the woman said in bewilderment. "Maybe both. I just hope little Robbie isn't wrong in the head!"

O'Donahue patted the woman on her arm. "Not to worry, ma'am. I'm sure he's fine. Now start from the beginning and tell us what's odd."

The woman took a deep breath. "Every weekday afternoon at four o'clock, my son asks me to turn on the TV and go to Channel 58. Now that channel has always been nothing but static, but my son will watch it for half an hour. And then he goes on and on about this program with some girl named Janice and her friends Pirate Percy and the Laughingstock. I don't know if there's something wrong with the TV, or if he needs his head fixed!"

"Hmm." Oprah glanced at her watch. "Well, it's almost four now. Why don't my partner and I stay and watch what happens, and we'll decide what to do after that."

The woman wrung her hands and nodded. "Okay."

At that moment, a little boy of about six clambered down the stairs and into the living room. "Mommy, mommy, turn on Candle Cove!" he said.

With a sigh, the woman switched on the TV and turned the dial until the display read 58, while her son plopped down on the floor in front of the TV. Sure enough, there was nothing but static. But then the white noise faded out and was replaced by calliope music. To the agents' astonishment, the words CANDLE COVE appeared on the screen, set to a background with a beach and a pirate ship off in the distance.

"Are you seeing this, ma'am?" O'Donahue managed, jaw dropped nearly to the floor.

"Seeing what?" the woman cried out. "There's nothing but static! Even my husband and sister agree with me!"

"Weird," Oprah murmured. "It's like only kids can see it. But it's definitely there, I'm watching it clear as day."

Then the first scream sounded.

All three kids watched in horror as the camera rapidly cut to all sorts of marionettes screaming, screaming and writhing in unbearable pain. One was a pirate with a contorted face, one had a mustache and huge teeth, and one was nothing but a skeleton with a patchwork top hat and cape that looked to be made of human skin. And all were screaming and gnashing their teeth. The calliope music that had sounded so friendly at the beginning played on with a now frightening intensity. Then a new sound was added to the cacophony—sobbing. A five-year-old girl appeared, wailing uncontrollably as if she'd been sitting through hours of this.

"Oh my God..." Oprah whispered, eyes glued to the screen and unable to tear them away. "This is...this is..."

"What?" the woman shouted. "What is it, what is it?!"

"Satanic," O'Donahue gulped. "That's what it is, it's satanic!"

That single word galvanized Oprah into action. In one swift moment she lunged forward and switched the TV off. Instantly the screaming stopped, and there was merciful silence.

Robbie began to cry.

Oprah was shaking and breathing heavily. "Ma'am...I don't know what that was, but I do know this: Odd Squad is not qualified to help you."