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Authors: Christopher Carlson Mark Jean

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BOOK: Puddlejumpers
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The dog barked a final time at the puddle, then joined her master running through the dark. But with the glowing light no longer ahead, there was nothing left to pursue. Russ ran anyway, shouting his son's name, wishing the trees could answer.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Water Kingdom

J
UST BENEATH
the forest floor, the Puddlejumpers listened as the father's shouts drifted farther and farther away. Once it was quiet, Pav and other Puddlejumpers waiting at the rendezvous offered hushed congratulations while making sure that everyone was all right. Although the babynappers had tumbled through the puddle hatch onto beds of thick fleece, it had been a rough landing. The sack had split open, and toys, teething rings, bottles, and clothes lay scattered across the cobblestone tunnel. Shawn was so startled by it all that he stopped crying, and Runnel could finally uncover his mouth.

The Puddlejumpers nestled the baby into a birch-bark canoe moored in a nearby stream. Runnel held him close as Pav fed him a gourd of milk spiked with pollens and spices. Buck freed the raccoons from their harnesses while Cully supervised the loading of Shawn's belongings into other canoes. They were about to set off when a muddy and disheveled Chop came tumbling through the puddle. Staring wide-eyed at the startled Jumpers, he blurted,
“Na-kwe-lay kazinga,”
which, roughly translated, meant, “Well, I made it.”

Relieved, everyone pressed around him, pushing and prodding and pinching in playful reproach.

As the Puddlejumpers launched downstream, they couldn't help but hoot with anticipation.

They were almost home.

Lanterns embedded in the walls brightened the otherwise dark passage as seven birch canoes navigated the tumultuous watercourse. A thick green moss blanketed the walls and roof of the tunnel. Here and there tangled roots poked through the dirt. There was a clean and loamy fragrance in the air. Buck paddled the lead canoe with Chop perched at the prow. Cully and Root oared the second canoe, where Pav and Runnel tended the baby.

Spurred along by the turbulent water, the birch canoes wound deeper and deeper into the earth. After descending the four major rapids—Wapata, Bootenay, Sisbaba, and finally Tittabuwasi—the water flattened out and the Puddlejumpers floated down a deep river. Soon they came upon a veil of lush ivy draped like a curtain across the water. One by one, the canoes threaded through a break in the greenery.

On the other side, the river opened into a cobalt-blue lake. This was their home, the Cavern of Pools, an underground hollow that sparkled like a radiant jewel. At the center of the lake stood Grandfather Oak, an ancient giant that reached three hundred feet to the ceiling of the cavern. A thousand ice-blue crystal acorns shimmering on its branches bathed the cavern in the ethereal light of dawn. From the oak's every leaf, twig, and branch, water poured down, a perpetual rain that pattered the surface of the lake. All around the cavern, waterfalls tumbled from the upper elevations. These waterfalls formed streams, which flowed down the gentle slopes of moss and clover, past hundreds of small shining pools dotting the meadows. The pools reflected the dome of the cavern, where rainbow-colored stalactites sparkled like generous constellations.

To signal their return, Buck shouted a victorious
“Hooty-hoo!”
Chop emulated the great scout with his own excited cry. Buck gave him a helpful shove into the water, but Chop didn't mind. He swam at the prow like a dolphin romping at sea.

In the meadows, hundreds of Puddlejumpers vaulted out of the pools, jumping from their homes just below the puddle hatchways. With cacophonous hooting, they sprinted down the green slope, then dove into the lake and swam out to greet their Rainmaker.

One Puddlejumper catapulted into the canoe and stood dripping wet next to Shawn. It was Greystone, the tribe's Ancient Guide. Though blind, he had deep-set amber eyes that seemed to look right through you, but his big ears compensated for the lack of sight. They were so keen he could even hear when it was raining in the Up Above. His beard, which he sometimes wore in a swirl on top of his head, was now braided and nearly touched his toes. The Puddlejumpers watched in awe as he used his skilled hands to see Shawn's face. Finally he kissed the crown of the baby's head and whispered, “Wawaywo,” then leapt to the bow and proclaimed his name to the Kingdom.

In jubilation, each and every Jumper echoed his call, “Wawaywo!”

The seven canoes continued toward Grandfather Oak's umbrella of rain. Their grandfather seemed to bow his leafy head as the canoes began to spin, drawn by a swirling undertow. Runnel and Pav secured the baby, and the Jumpers braced themselves just before the rushing water sucked their canoes into a hollow at the base of the trunk, plunging them down a steep gorge. They threaded the gnarled roots of the oak in a swooping, rollicking white-water ride that took everyone's breath.

The canoes splashed down in the sapphire waters of the Laughing Grotto. A resplendent rainbow arched from one side of the cave to the other and a refreshing mist filled the air. Water trickled down the onyx walls veined with gemstones and silver, tinkling like a thousand wind chimes in a gentle breeze. The Puddlejumpers placed Shawn on a stretcher of woven wheat and carried him across a white sand beach to a threshold in the rock.

Greystone led the way across the portal, then down a spiral stairway into their sacred Deep Down. Buck and Cully each carried a tiny lantern, casting giant shadows that danced along the wall. Like every other place in the Kingdom, there was water—water cascading all around them—water flowing ever deeper into the earth.

At the bottom of the stair, they reached an oak platform suspended by ropes of woven hemp. Heads bowed, the little ones teetered with their precious treasure onto the platform. It swung like a pendulum over a bottomless chasm. But the Puddlejumpers weren't looking down into the darkness. They were looking at the most magnificent sight in the Kingdom.

It was MotherEarth, an immense stone being within the canyon wall. Only her face was visible. If the Puddlejumpers stood on each other's shoulders, like a living totem pole, it would take thirty of them to reach the top of her moss-covered head. Her skin was smooth, caressed by the eternal veil of water streaming across her benevolent face. Every time she breathed, the rock rippled back and forth.

Each and every drop of water journeyed down Grandfather Oak to touch the face of MotherEarth. Now the Puddlejumpers had taken Shawn Frazier on that same journey, and it was time for him to begin his new life.

Root and Runnel proudly presented the human baby to MotherEarth. Her emerald eyes sparkled as Pav leaned out over the fathomless depths and collected water flowing off her lips. The tribe's healer trickled the water over Shawn's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, then rubbed the rest down the back of his neck and spine. Shawn shivered and squealed in surprise. MotherEarth laughed and the rocks shook all around them.

Greystone uncapped Shawn's Crystal Acorn and caught a droplet from MotherEarth's chin. He snugged the cap and fastened it around the baby's neck on a loop of milkweed fiber. This Acorn, harvested from Grandfather Oak, was Shawn's birthright as the Rainmaker, his talisman, and the weapon he would one day use in the last great battle.

As the little ones pressed close to touch the baby's Crystal Acorn, MotherEarth intoned a chant that resonated throughout the Deep Down like the call of some primordial whale.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Spiral Tattoo

A
FTER
M
OTHER
E
ARTH'S
blessing, the Puddlejumpers returned to the Cavern of Pools, where they celebrated as only Puddlejumpers can. Oak barrels were filled to the brim with milk and feast pots overflowed with their favorite foods, including fresh berries and cream, nuts of all shapes and sizes, rolled wheat pasta with dandelion sauce, and even an acorn taffy that poured like sweet butter from the churn.

Under Greystone's direction, scouts carried Shawn on the wheat stretcher down the meadow to the lake. Every Puddlejumper followed and lined up along the shore. The tribe watched with anticipation as Buck and Cully launched the six-month-old into the water. Shawn promptly sank. Holding their collective breath, the Jumpers leaned forward, all wanting to help the baby, but Greystone made them wait, saying simply, “He looks like a human being, but he's a Puddlejumper now.” A few bubbles percolated to the surface. Seconds felt like hours. Runnel, alarmed, waded into the water just as Shawn popped to the surface and gulped a deep breath.

The tribe shouted,
“Kadudee, matadie ra!”
and slapped the water with their webbed hands. Shawn struggled onto his back, but seemed to calm as he looked up into the radiant branches of Grandfather Oak. Runnel swam in a circle around the baby as Greystone spoke, “Wawaywo is big—bigger than us—but he'll be biggest when he grows small.”

The Jumpers laughed and slapped the water again. As Greystone told of the wonders that were yet to come, they listened spellbound, lifted by his every word like an ocean swelling with the tide. Suddenly he dove under the water and didn't surface until he reached Grandfather Oak, where he climbed onto the trunk above the hollow. As the water roared beneath him, he shouted,
“Walagadooroo!”

A great excitement filled the cavern as Puddlejumpers scrambled to find a partner. “Crown the Oak” was their favorite game. The object was to place a golden hoop at the top of Grandfather Oak. To begin, all the teams lined the shore around the lake. When Greystone tossed the hoop into the water, the players dove to the bottom to recover it. Swimming in the depths of the lake and on the surface, they worked in tandem, maneuvering their way onto the sprawling oak. The duo possessing the hoop played against everyone else. Once on the tree, Puddlejumpers sprinted up the trunk and along the branches in a wild scramble to reach the summit first. Some Puddlejumpers got knocked off into the lake and, if they weren't quick enough, were swept all the way down to the Laughing Grotto. There was lots of wrestling and tumbling and tackling and dunking. The hoop could be thrown through air or skipped on water or rolled on branches. Finally, a determined Puddlejumper placed the golden hoop on the uppermost branch and declared their team the winner.

By long tradition the game was always played with something at stake. On this special day, the Puddlejumpers cheered Root and Runnel as oak champions for the second time. Six months earlier, they'd earned the right to run beneath the stars and live among the human beings and keep the Rainmaker safe. Now, standing at the crown of Grandfather Oak, Root and Runnel humbly bowed their heads as the cavern resounded with hoots. There were others quicker, more agile and stronger, but no two Jumpers played the game with more heart.

Shouting
“Hooty-hoo!”
Root and Runnel dove from the summit with a backward twist and double flip before entering the lake like a pair of whispers. Greystone waited until they surfaced before sprinting up a cobblestone pathway toward the top of the meadow. He didn't stop until he reached a stone shelter known as the Well. It was the Puddlejumper gathering place overlooking the great lake and Grandfather Oak. Standing on the threshold, he drew a snail's shell from his belt and blew a deep, sonorous summons.

Every Puddlejumper rushed to the Well. They flooded inside, splashing through shallow water that bubbled up from a spring and flowed across the floor. Little geysers occasionally erupted, showering some and goosing others. The Jumpers crammed into every nook and cranny, window and ledge, anticipating the moment they'd heard about all their lives but never thought they'd see.

A hush descended on the Well as a covey of Puddlejumpers labored to carry the baby across the threshold. Shawn reached up to brush his hand through a mobile that covered the entire ceiling. The wooden figures knocked together in a melodic drumbeat. This was the tribe's treasured memorial—hundreds of carvings representing every inhabitant who'd been taken by the Troggs. It was their way of remembering them.

The Puddlejumpers laid the baby on a bed of wheat at the center of the Well. Greystone chanted one of the old songs as Pav crumbled a petrified wheat stalk over Shawn, ensuring nimble hands and a brave heart. Dipping into her chestnut thimble, she rinsed his eyes with morning dew, then sprinkled them with ground bat guano, ensuring great vision. There was a murmur of surprise when Greystone offered Root and Runnel a stiff pine needle and a thread of woven catfish whiskers but, as oak champions, they had earned the great honor.

While Pav gently pressed the top of the baby's spine so he wouldn't feel any pain, Runnel stitched a spiral into the ball of Shawn's right foot. After she pulled the final stitch, Root snipped the thread and held the baby's foot aloft for all to see. Everyone craned their necks to get a glimpse of the Spiral Tattoo, the same tattoo that was on the sole of every Puddlejumper. A few overzealous ones even tumbled from the rafters.

BOOK: Puddlejumpers
7.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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