Puddlejumpers (32 page)

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Authors: Christopher Carlson Mark Jean

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BOOK: Puddlejumpers
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Roused by their summons, Ernie found his last ounce of courage. He sighted his target, then reared back, kicked his leg high, pushed hard off his back foot, and hurled the Crystal Acorn straight into her fiery mouth. “Steee-rike!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The Hag staggered backward, stunned. For a moment she wavered, then rose again to her full height and spit the Acorn with such force it buried itself in the soot at Ernie's feet. With a terrible shriek, she charged. Ernie's pulse pounded in his ears as he frantically dug to reclaim his Crystal. But before he could wind up and throw again, Hagdemonia snatched him in a claw, lifted him to her mouth, and swallowed him whole.

Horrified, the Puddlejumpers listened to Ernie's defiant
“Hooty-hooooooooo!”
as he toppled down her gullet. The call echoed to silence.

Hagdemonia screeched victoriously, proclaiming the death of the Rainmaker. The battle for the Most Dark had come to its bitter end.

But unbeknownst to Hagdemonia, Troggs, and even Puddlejumpers, Ernie had kept the Crystal Acorn in his grip as he was swallowed alive. Now inside her murky stomach, he felt his chest burning from holding his breath. Struggling to stay conscious, he swam blindly against the turbulent current until he could feel the mushy wall of her stomach. He thrust his fist into the flesh and planted his Acorn just before a surge swept him into the dark recesses.

In the warmth and moisture of the Hag's bowels, the Acorn germinated and began to sprout. Delicate tentacles grew into sturdy vines that shot up, down, and sideways throughout her entire body.

Hagdemonia stared in horror as roots burst through her feet, anchoring her to the bedrock of the Most Dark. She writhed in agony as branches exploded from her body, then howled with demonic protest as her torso transformed into a trunk. Finally, her hateful face crinkled to bark, silencing her forever.

The Jumpers watched in awe as the great tree surged upward. Water poured from its every blossom and leaf to douse the burning river and extinguish every fire in the Most Dark. The Troggs and Red Grunts howled and cursed and tried to bury themselves in the scorched earth, but the water thundered down and drowned them in a merciless flood.

In the Up Above, the oak smashed through the foundation of the Holsapple manse and water roared through the cellar, corridors, and secret passageways. Titanic branches invaded the kitchen, dining room, and great hall, destroying the posh furniture, antiquities, and stolen loot. The jars of eyeballs from the pantry watched the stuffed buffalo float past, and the mounted animal heads seemed to smile with their final revenge as the current swept them away.

A tidal wave surged up the stairways, and water drowned every story and cascaded from every window. The manse protested with a last shuddering boom as the house imploded in a swirling vortex, and the earth swallowed it whole.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The Return

I
F STARS HAD EYES
, they might have seen a great horned owl soaring out of a night sky toward a profoundly still turquoise lake. The full moon shimmered on the water like a beacon as the owl circled the giant oak, only its leafy crown visible at the center of the lake. There, in the uppermost branches, the bird settled beside the lifeless body of Ernie Banks.

The lake began to ripple, as if it were raining from below. Tiny hands broke the surface—first Runnel, sputtering and gasping for air, followed by Root and Chop, Cully, and Buck. Soon the whole tribe bobbed to the surface. They swam steadily toward their Rainmaker, buoyed on the oak's lonely pinnacle.

Ernie Banks had fulfilled the ancient prophecy of MotherEarth, but had paid with his life. The Puddlejumpers retrieved the body of their fallen hero from the oak and ferried him to shore.

With Greystone leading the way, Root, Runnel, Cully, and Buck carried Ernie's limp body on their shoulders along the boundary fence. Like a mournful wind, the tribe followed behind.

As the moon dipped below the horizon, the procession crossed into Frazier land. They laid Ernie's body on a bed of wheat. Birds and animals emerged from nearby nests and dens to watch respectfully as Buck and Cully carefully peeled away his burned and tattered clothes. After Greystone washed his body with morning dew, Pav dressed his burns with a balm, then covered him with stalks of wheat.

The tribe chanted a farewell song as each Puddlejumper passed by to touch the heart of their Wawaywo. When the song drifted away with the wind, Root and Runnel knelt next to Ernie. Root steadied his foot as Runnel gently pinched the Spiral Tattoo between her fingers. Whispering farewell, she pulled the thread, unwinding it from his flesh until it stretched between her fingers and his foot.

Runnel held her hand to the east and waited for the sun. As the warm sphere broke the horizon, its golden light surged through her palm, shimmered across the taut thread, and fired into the sole of Ernie Banks. There was a deafening thunderclap and a blinding flash…and the Puddlejumpers were gone.

At the Frazier farmhouse, the thunderclap rattled the windows and woke Russ from a fitful night's sleep on the couch. Still dressed in his work clothes, he slipped into his boots and went to the kitchen to make coffee. As he stood at the sink and filled the pot with water, he looked out the window and saw the sun rising over the fields. The eastern sky was a swirl of color, and a gentle breeze swept across the plateau. Something in the air felt different. It smelled like rain, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Russ went down the hall and opened the crib room door. Joey was still asleep cuddled beside her mother, their blanket kicked to the floor. He was retucking it when a staccato rapping startled him.

Russ followed the sound to the kitchen and opened the door. There, as on the day of his son's birth, the elfin mobile dangled from the sill, except now the empty harness cradled a carved figure of Ernie Banks, Cubs cap and all. A gust of wind blew the mobile, and the elves chimed together in a dance around the boy. Feeling faint, Russ braced himself against the door and stared at the carved figure of Ernie. He remembered the last time he'd seen the boy handcuffed in the sheriff's car, driving away. Now Ernie's words echoed in his memory.

“I can make it rain! I'm Shawn Frazier!”

Russ looked beyond the mobile to the deep blue sky streaked with hues of amber and gold. He went outside. A raindrop splashed against his hand. Another landed on his shoulder. From a cloudless sky, the long-awaited rain began to patter down. Russ arched his neck to let the water wash his face.

Before his very eyes, the wheat in his field seemed to revive, as if waking from a deep sleep. For the first time since his baby had been taken away, he dared to believe.

The steady rain woke Ernie Banks from his dead sleep. He sat up and saw that he was naked, his body covered in wheat stalks. He was in a muddy hollow in the upper field, his sneakers, Cubs cap, and clothes in a pile beside him. Even Russ' watch was there, though the lid was dented and its crystal was cracked.
How did I get here? Where are the Puddlejumpers?

As he stood to get dressed, he realized that the wheat only came to his waist. He was no longer tiny! He checked the bottom of his foot. The Spiral Tattoo, the tattoo that had been there his entire life, was gone.

Turning in every direction, he called through cupped hands,
“Hooty-hooooo!”
He couldn't believe they would abandon him like this, and he wailed desperately to the rain.

“Hooty-hooooo
…“

In the farmyard, Russ listened spellbound to the distant cry. It was the same sound he'd heard from the fields the night of Shawn's kidnapping. Suddenly he felt more alert than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

The calls carried down the slope and through the falling rain,
“Hooty-hooooo! Hooty-hooooo!”
Russ stepped to the edge of the wheat. Though his voice was tentative, he tried to imitate the strange sound as he called out,
“Hooty-hoo.”

The voice responded from high up in the field.
“Hooty-hooooo!”

With growing conviction, Russ hurried through the wheat toward the ridge above. He called again, this time louder,
“Hooty-hooo!”

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