by Obert Skye
“Okay, big guy,” my dad said with a whistle. “I’ll start the car.”
Suddenly, I felt too nervous to do this. But I kept my mouth shut and ran down to the basement to get two big suitcases. After hauling them back upstairs I wheeled them to the kitchen. Sure, I was supposed to pack things like clothes and toothbrushes, but if I was going to some strange nature island, I needed snacks. Like I really needed them. They were the one thing that I couldn’t live without.
I threw open the cupboards and started cramming snack food and treats into the two suitcases. Luckily, we had just stocked up for summer, so we had tons of good things. I filled one suitcase with all the sugary treats I could fit. I crammed the second one with my favorite thing in the world—potato chips. We had about ten different kinds.
My dad gave a quick tap on the car horn in the garage.
“Coming!” I yelled.
I could barely get my suitcases closed. I took off my mask and put it into one of my pant pockets.
My dad honked some more. I needed to move.
I grabbed the last bag of chips left in the cupboard and shoved it under my arm. They were my favorite flavor—Munchables—sugar dipped and extra-salty.
“Coming!” I yelled again.
I ran to my room and grabbed the orange envelope that held the collector’s issue of Ocean Blasterzoids and my uncle’s note. It also had his address on the front. I slipped the envelope into the pocket of my suitcase. With the extra potato chips under my arm, I dragged my luggage into the garage. My dad hopped out of the car and took the suitcases from me. He threw them into the trunk and jumped back in.
“All set?” he said. “Lucky for you, the airport’s just a couple miles away!”
My dad really didn’t need to tell me that. We could hear the planes flying over our house all the time.
He backed out of the garage and we raced down the street. I couldn’t see any newts raining down, but to be perfectly honest, I was now more afraid of what lay ahead of me.
“I think we might make it!” my dad said. “I’ll call your uncle and tell him when to pick you up.”
“That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I talked to him on the phone just now. That’s why it took me so long. He said he’ll pick me up.”
“Way to be responsible,” said my dad, which kind of stung since everything I was saying was a lie.
My dad sped down the highway at an irresponsible speed. I double-checked my seatbelt and tried to calm my nerves.
We turned off the highway onto the airport road. It was all happening so fast. I had questions. A lot of questions. I tried to ask the most important ones.
“Flying on a plane is safe, right?”
“The only thing safer is riding on an elevator,” he answered.
“I don’t like elevators,” I reminded him.
“Well, good thing you’re taking a plane.”
Inside the airport, a man at the ticket counter took my luggage, but I held on to my extra bag of chips. My dad and I jogged toward the security line.
“You’ll need some cash when you get there,” Dad said. He reached into his wallet and emptied it out.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the wad of cash from him.
“Have a blast, kid,” he said. “Call me as soon as you get to Zeke’s, and remember I’ll be thinking of you every second.”
“That’s a lot of seconds.”
“I’m so glad you’ll be doing something other than staring at your computer or reading in your dark room. This is it, Perry, your summer begins now!”
“Thanks, Dad.”
His goofy grin made me realize I was going to miss him and Ohio worse than a severed tentacle. I had never been out of the state and I had never been away from my father. I kept telling myself over and over in my head that all of this was for Zeke.
“Have fun, and call me every day,” my dad said.
“I wish we could communicate like squids. Their skin lights up in ways that only other squids can understand.”
“Well, until we have that ability, use the phone.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you back. Now, I’m double-parked so I have to go. Plus, I’m just not good at good-byes.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Let’s just say, ‘Grains be with you until we wheat again.’”
“That’s awful,” I said, smiling.
My dad hugged me and helped me up to the front of the line where he turned me over to the airport employees. Since I was a kid traveling alone, a security lady showed me what to do. I emptied the many pockets on my cargo pants as quickly as I could. I had way more stuff in my pockets than I remembered.
The lady set my carry-on potato chips on a conveyer belt and walked me to the full-body scanner, where I had to hold my hands up in the air like a criminal newt getting apprehended by the squid patrol. My Admiral Uli belt buckle made the machine beep loudly, so I had to take it off. While I was walking into the machine for the second time, my pants fell to the ground.
“Hold perfectly still,” the lady said. “Still scanning.”
I stood there like a statue in my Admiral Uli skivvies while people in the line behind me tried not to laugh and failed. I looked to see if my dad was laughing, too, but he was on the other side of security waving at me as if everything was perfectly normal.
I pulled my pants up, and a different security woman with big hands helped me away from security and down to my gate.
I was going to Bunny Island to confront the newts and save my uncle. And I had no idea how weird and scary Bunny Island would be.
CHAPTER THREE
BUNNY ISLAND
Squidships are probably great, but it turns out planes are a pain. After the first long ride, I had to stop at another airport and switch to a different plane before that one finally landed on Bunny Island. The second plane was really small and filled with old people who kept talking and singing. I did get to look at my new “Salt Wars” comic book, but that was the only highlight.
When the plane touched down, the flight lady turned on the speaker and said, “Welcome to Bunny Island—where the temperature is just right and the fruit is so fresh you can flirt with it.”
Gross.
Everyone on the plane laughed and clapped except for me. I was already scared about there not being enough junk food. Now I was supposed to flirt with fruit? If it had been anyone else in trouble besides my uncle Zeke, I would have stayed in my seat and refused to exit.
Stairs led straight from the plane to the tidy runway. As soon as I stepped outside, sunshine blasted my eyes. Instantly, I began to sweat and worried that I might wither like a jellyfish on a hot sidewalk.
At the bottom of the stairs stood a woman with flowers in her hair. She was handing out round fluffy tails for people to stick on their behinds. She dropped one in my hand and said, “Welcome to Bunny Island.”
“Do I have to put this on?” I asked, knowing Admiral Uli would never wear something as embarrassing as a bunny tail. “I’m more squid than land animal.”
“It’s our custom,” she said.
She looked so hurt that I took the small tail and stuck it to my behind.
Inside the airport, large banners hung from the ceilings and fluttered in the air-conditioning. On each banner was a smiling man with slicked-back hair and shiny blue eyes. One of the banners showed him saying:
Welcome to Bunny Island—
America’s 37th Favorite Vacation Spot!
Another one had him drinking a green smoothie and saying:
Bunny Island: 100% Junk Food–Free
My sugar-covered heart almost had a heart attack! I knew that Bunny Island was supposed to be filled with health nuts, but I didn’t know it was junk food–free. And that wasn’t even true anymore, because at that very moment, my snack-filled suitcases came sliding down a silver chute onto the baggage carousel. Now there were at least two suitcases full of junk food on the island.
I felt like Admira
l Uli in Issue #32, when he smuggled crab kittens away from the wetlands of Mewmar.
I wrestled my first suitcase off the luggage carousel. As I was struggling to get a hold of the second one, someone’s hand shot out and grabbed it for me.
“I got it.”
I turned to find a boy who was probably a few years older than me. He had long wavy bangs that hung over his big brown eyes. His teeth were straight and white and his shoulders were way wider than mine. He was wearing a tank top with the words Rain Train on it and shorts that came to his knees. Also, he was dark-skinned and cool looking. I suddenly felt extra pale and dorky.
“Your suitcase smells,” the boy said. “Like food.”
“It’s not food, it’s just some old shoes.” I wasn’t proud of it, but I was getting good at lying.
“It’s got a strange vibe.”
“That’s probably the lingering foot odor.”
“Okay, no worries. Let me carry your bags.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Rain.”
“Wow, that’s a cool name, except for the fact that newts can travel by rain cloud.”
He stared at me.
“I’m Perry, by the way, and just to be completely honest and forthright, I’m ten.”
There was nothing but silence for a moment.
“So,” he finally said. “I guess ten-year-olds have tails.”
I forgot I was wearing the puffy white bunny tail. Now here I was meeting what might be a new island friend, and I looked like a baby bunny. I reached around, pulled it off my behind, and threw it over my shoulder like it had the kind of cooties that other cooties made fun of.
“So do you need a ride somewhere?” Rain asked.
An invitation for a ride? That was definitely something a friend would ask.
“You can drive?” I said. “How old are you?”
“I’m thirteen, and I can sort of drive. I have my own business—the Rain Train. I take people around the island and point out interesting things.”
“In a train?”
“Of course not. It was the only mode of transportation that rhymed with my name.”
“So you have a car?”
“It’s like a car.”
“Well, I do need a ride,” I said. I unzipped the front pocket of one of my suitcases, pulled out the envelope with my uncle’s address on it, and showed it to him. “Do you know where that is?” I asked.
Rain smiled. “I know exactly where that is. It’s a straight shot down Rabbit Road through town and past the mall and the beach. It’s in the Gray Hare subdivision. I can take you, but it’ll cost you some money.”
“That’s fine. I’ve got a wad of cash.”
Rain’s eyes grew stormy. “You know, I really can’t stand you Bunny Mooners sometimes.”
“Bunny Mooners?”
“Yeah, that’s what we locals call you tourists,” Rain said. “You come to our island and brag about your wads of cash. That’s not very cool.”
“I wasn’t bragging. I just don’t have a wallet.”
“Whatever, I need the money. Come on.” Rain motioned for me to follow him.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. To be honest, Rain was seeming a little newt-like, but I had no other ride, and the clock was ticking. My uncle wasn’t going to save himself. I needed to get to his house and start looking for clues.
I followed Rain outside. A straight road ran from the curb down toward the beach in the distance. I had seen the ocean in pictures and movies, but here, it was a completely different thing—enormous and turquoise blue, like the color of Admiral Uli’s friend Stacy Horse. I could smell the salt from where we stood. Looking at the water, it was easy to imagine a whole world of squids and death-defying adventures hidden beneath the surface. I shivered with excitement and uneasiness.
“I’ve never seen the ocean before,” I whispered.
“Well,” Rain said. “There it is.”
The island was covered with palm trees that looked like giant green scrub brushes. Along the road, tall wooden poles supporting large megaphones poked up at regular intervals. I knew from what my uncle had told me that the megaphones were a warning system, in case there was ever a tidal wave coming. At the moment, the sky above us was completely clear, and a hot wind swirled around me like an annoying ghost.
“Is it supposed to be this warm?” I asked. “I have sweat in places I’ve never sweated before.”
“That’s lovely.”
I spotted a motel with a large rabbit-shaped statue on the roof and a park where a couple of families were flying kites. A few people puttered down the road in golf carts, followed by a large woman on a Segway and a girl on a skateboard. The scene looked like the front of a fancy but sort of weird postcard—a postcard for a place that everyone but me would want to visit.
I was hot and uneasy, and I missed my room.
To make things even stranger, everywhere I looked, I started to notice real, live bunnies quietly hopping around and resting in every available spot of shade. I didn’t have any pets back in Ohio because I preferred animals to be in books or on the computer screen—there are way less allergies that way. Now, however, it looked like I was surrounded by a billion bunnies.
“So many rabbits,” I said, punctuating my statement with a sneeze.
“Yep,” Rain agreed. “You Bunny Mooners can’t stop taking pictures of them and trying to pick them up.”
“I’m not a Bunny Mooner, and I don’t even have a camera,” I said, kind of wishing I did. “Where’d all the rabbits come from, anyway?”
“That’s a long story that I don’t have time to tell. Now hop on.”
Rain motioned to an old green bike parked at the curb. It had an extra back seat and a cart hooked to the rear. A small horn was clipped on the handlebars.
“That’s what we’re riding?” I asked. “That’s not a car or train or even a normal bike.”
It reminded me of one of the worthless machines that Eelbert Brinestein was always tinkering with.
“Look around,” said Rain. “There are no real trains or cars on the island—just golf carts and Segways and bikes.”
He put my suitcases on the cart behind his bike and tied them down tightly with yellow bungee cords. I climbed on the backseat and put my hands on Rain’s shoulders. The adhesive left over from the bunny tail sort of helped hold me in place.
“Welcome to Bunny Island,” Rain said. “For the next few minutes I’ll be your tour guide.”
“I don’t really need a tour,” I told him. “But I do need to get to my uncle’s place. Maybe I should just borrow your bike and pedal myself? I’ve got pretty strong ankles.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say, because Rain’s neck got red and he started to huff.
“You think all my business needs is strong ankles? You wanna take over my gig? I know a heck of a lot more about this island than you do.”
“I don’t want to take over your business,” I insisted. “I just need to get to my uncle’s. Fast.”
“Fine.”
Rain took a few deep breaths and calmed down. He shook his butt as though swishing an invisible tail from side to side before settling down on the bicycle seat. For a second his movement reminded me of a newt, and it gave me the chills. He pressed the horn on the handlebars.
BUUUUUURRRRRRRUUUUUUUUPPPPA!
A powerful toot sounded and the packs of bunnies directly in front of us scattered. I held my hands over my ears as Rain tooted the bike horn once more. It wasn’t a newt toot, but still, something smelled off.
“Ready?” Rain yelled.
I nodded.
“Oh,” Rain added. “I forgot to tell you that my bike has no brakes.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But—”
Rain took off before I could finish my sentence, leaving my “but” hanging in the air.
CHAPTER FOUR
BIKE RIDE OF DOOM
The Rain T
rain flew down the path. We were moving so fast, I couldn’t hear my own screams. As we hurtled along, my life flashed in front of my eyes. I saw all the times I had been at home alone in my room eating toast dipped in chocolate spread and sprinkled with taffy. I saw myself lying in bed and reading comics and eating butter-covered chips. I also saw the time I was sick from eating too much.
I really missed home.
“Can you please slow down?!” I yelled. “I have a fear of dying.”
“Sorry, no brakes. I’ll try going faster.” Rain started to pedal harder.
“But I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of slowing down!”
I looked around for seat belts or an ejector seat, like Admiral Uli had in his squid sub, but there wasn’t anything like that. We bounced down the stone road like a couple of rubber balls. All around us, bunnies of all colors were hopping and jumping out of the way. One orange bunny hit my right leg and then sprang off me. A gray one shot out from the trees and hopped as high as my head.
Rain blew the horn, lifted his butt off the seat, and leaned into the turns. He swerved around a tall palm tree and shot past a fuzzy herd of bunnies parked by the side of the path.
“I-I-I-I-I can’t p-p-p-p-p-p-p-pay you if I’m d-d-d-d-d-d-dead!” I yelled as we bumped along.
“Don’t worry,” he yelled back. “I can always take the money from your wad of cash! Look, there’s the Bunny Hotel! That’s where most of the Bunny Mooners stay when they come here.” Rain lifted his right hand off the handlebars to point at the motel with the bunny statue on the roof as we blew by.
“Hold on to the handlebars!” I begged.
Rain let go with both hands and did some more pointing. “Down the road to the left is the Liquid Love Shack. That’s my mom’s business—she makes the best carrot juice in town.”
“Yuck!” I shouted.
Sure, I was scared for my life, but I wasn’t scared enough to say something nice about carrot juice.
“It’s not really for Bunny Mooners,” Rain yelled. “It’s a local hangout. There’s the golf course and the health food store. And the . . .”
Rain was pointing like a crazy man. I wanted him to put his hands back on the handlebars and find a way to slow down. I could see a large herd of bunnies up ahead. I could also see a group of people blocking the path, holding up their phones to take pictures of bunnies.
