“Where’s Ms. P?” I ask, glancing quickly around us.
“There,” Ms. W nods. I follow her gaze backward to see that Ms. P is floating over the water. It looks like she’s going after Ahab’s boat, and Lindsay.
“We have to stop her. But where’s the book?”
“That book?” Samir asks, pointing at the water, where a soaking-wet copy of Moby-Dick bounces up, buoyed by a wave.
“Exactly,” Ms. W says, grabbing it from the water. She hands it to me. “I’m going to save your sister and get Ms. P.”
“You have a plan?” Samir asks, hopeful.
“I’m going to lure Moby Dick over here and when I do, you have to capture him in this book, do you understand?”
“What’s this about luring the whale to us?” Samir asks, looking unnerved.
“Um, I hate to point out the obvious here, but has anyone else noticed that this ship is sinking?” Blade asks, nodding toward the bubbling water, which seems to be eating up the deck.
“Hang on for as long as you can,” Ms. W says. “I’ll be back.”
And with that she floats off in the direction of Ms. P and Ahab’s boat. Ryan is in it, struggling with Ahab. He’s trying to get control of the boat. I feel a swell of pride. Even if I’m over him, it’s nice that he’s on my side. And he sure is fighting hard to save my sister. And for once, I’m not jealous. I’m glad.
I can’t see if Lindsay is awake or not and I can’t see where the whale is, either. I watch as Ms. W grabs Ms. P from behind. There’s a struggle, as Ms. W tries to contain Ms. P and starts pulling her back toward the Pequod.
“Oh no,” I hear someone behind me cry. I look in time to see a large white hump coming toward us. It’s Moby Dick.
“Um, is this the luring? ’Cause I’m not a fan of the luring,” Samir says.
The ship, which is sinking fast, lurches even farther to one side as water bubbles up along the deck. Caught between the waves and the invisible barrier keeping us in one spot, the ship’s deck begins to crack and break apart beneath our feet.
Suddenly, I’m losing my footing. Heathcliff tries to steady me, even as he’s pushing me farther back in the boat, away from the water. The boards beneath my feet buckle. I throw my hand up to grab something, anything, but all I get is air. I’m sliding backward. As if in slow motion, I watch the first edition of Moby-Dick fly right out of my hands and over the side of the ship’s railing, making a little plunk sound in the water.
And then a strong hand grabs me—Heathcliff.
“The book!” exclaims Samir.
“I think I can still reach it,” I say, grabbing a harpoon and leaning over the side of the quickly sinking ship. The hook at the end of the pole is just inches from the bobbing book. I can almost reach it.
“Too late,” Samir says, holding on with both hands to the ship’s mast. He nods forward and I see the white whale closing in.
Heathcliff scrambles across the deck and starts gathering together the harpoons that are left on deck.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to save us,” he says.
“At least someone is,” Parker says.
The water along the deck starts moving quickly toward us as the ship lurches even more toward its broken half. I lean even farther over the edge of the boat. I almost have the book. It’s this close. Millimeters, even.
Heathcliff grabs a rope and leaps up to the railing of the boat while the ship dips farther down. He steadies himself as the whale circles around what’s left of the ship, then heads for us.
I’ve got a corner of the book under the harpoon’s hook now. All I have to do is pull it in. I can almost reach it.
Moby Dick surfaces near the ship, blowing water high into the air. With a steady hand, Heathcliff takes the harpoon and aims straight at the whale’s eye. He lets the harpoon fly and it hits home. The whale writhes and wiggles, as if trying to shake loose the sharp barb. Then, without slowing down, it flips over and dives deep.
Just as he does, I snag the book.
“Got it!” I shout, lifting it over my head.
And the next thing I know, Moby Dick hits us again with his massive tail. This time, the hull cracks in two. The ship is now breaking into small pieces and sinking fast.
“Jump!” Heathcliff says, grabbing my hand and pulling me overboard. Blade and Samir follow us into the water, where we all land with a cold splash. The frigid salt water stings my eyes, as I try to follow Heathcliff to nearby floating debris. Behind us, the small pieces of the Pequod drift apart, some sinking and some bobbing on the surface. Seconds later, barrels of water and a square box that looks a lot like a coffin pop up in the water. Parker manages to swim to it and grabs hold of it.
“I can’t swim!” shouts Samir, sputtering and struggling in the water. Blade reaches him, though, and together they swim to a floating barrel of gunpowder.
Heathcliff points to them and I nod, swimming for another barrel nearby, all the while keenly aware that I’m in the middle of a freezing ocean with a wounded but angry Moby Dick swimming somewhere nearby. I’m clutching the book and trying to swim at the same time, but I’m not going very fast.
The water around me is so dark it’s nearly black and I can’t see anything below about a foot beneath the surface.
I try not to think about being swallowed whole. I am also seriously regretting ever seeing any of those lame Jaws movies, because right now all I can think about is the possibility of something chomping on my legs.
The sea swallows the top of the Pequod’s mast, the last bit of the ship disappearing under the black water. Debris floats everywhere, but there’s no sign of the whale.
“Where’d he go?” Blade sputters beside me. Samir is clinging to her, his knuckles white.
“Do we really care as long as he’s not here?” he points out.
“He’s there,” Heathcliff says, nodding toward Ahab’s row boat, which is about thirty feet from us.
In fact, he surfaces right beneath Ms. W and Ms. P. Somehow, Ms. W spins away just seconds before Ms. P is swallowed—whole—by Moby Dick.
“That had to hurt,” Samir says.
“Gives a new meaning to the words ‘fish food,’” Blade says. When I give her a look, she adds, “What? Samir is the only person allowed to make insensitive quips here? Besides, she’s a ghost—can she even be eaten?”
“Looks like it,” Samir says as Moby Dick dives deep underneath the water. He comes up again even closer to the rowboat—and my sister.
“Lindsay!” I shout, but I can’t see her from where I am. Ryan is there, still squaring off with Ahab, who isn’t giving up an inch. Most of Ahab’s other men have fallen overboard or been pushed by Ryan, so now it’s just him and the captain. Ahab swings a paddle at his head, but Ryan ducks. For a man with just one leg, Ahab sure can fight.
Ms. W picks up a bit of rope from the water and starts pulling the boat toward us. Moby Dick takes the bait and follows.
“Get the book ready,” Heathcliff tells me.
I haul myself up on the floating debris with Samir and open the sopping wet book. The pages are all stuck together and the type has started to blur. I don’t even know if it’ll work like it’s supposed to. But as soon as I start to doubt, the book begins to work its magic.
Pieces of the Pequod floating around us start getting sucked into the book like it’s a giant vacuum.
“Miranda! Watch it!” Parker says as the coffin she’s floating on zips into the book, nearly taking her with it. I shut the book, quickly.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Wait until the whale is closer,” Blade suggests.
“I would’ve appreciated that suggestion about five minutes ago,” Parker says, bobbing to another piece of the Pequod and latching on to it.
Ms. W tugs the boat toward us. She’s making good progress, but not good enough.
“She’s not coming fast enough,” Heathcliff says, nodding at Moby Dick, who has sunk down below the surface again. He�
��s going to eat the rowboat, just like he did in the book. He’s going after Ahab, and Ahab happens to be right next to my sister. Ms. W seems to sense this, too.
Ryan pushes Ahab, hard, and Ms. W grabs him, lifting him above the water and away from the boat—straight to us.
Moby Dick breaks off his attack on the rowboat and follows the floating Ahab, who is struggling against Ms. W’s grip.
“Let me go, woman!” he’s shouting. “The white whale is mine!”
“Miranda! The book! Open it! Open it now!” Ms. W yells.
“But what about you? You have to get out of the way!” I say, fearing that she’ll get sucked into the book, just as surely as Ahab and Moby Dick will. I don’t know the extent of the book’s power.
“Don’t think. Do it!” Ms. W yells.
I open the book and in a loud whoosh, nearby debris from the Pequod is quickly sucked into the book, as is a good amount of water from the ocean. The rowboat is pulled, but not drawn in, and I see Ryan cover Lindsay’s body with his own to protect her from flying debris. I can barely hold open the book, the force is so great. Heathclliff steadies my hands.
The book pulls on the whale, who fights it, but quickly starts to lose ground. With one last great show of will, Moby Dick leaps forward and swallows Ahab and Ms. W whole before being sucked straight back into the pages of the book.
I shut the book abruptly, but it’s too late. The whale and Ms. W have been sucked into the pages of the book.
I’m completely silent for a minute. I can’t believe it.
“Whoa,” Blade says.
“Yeah—whoa,” Samir adds.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to sue the school,” Parker says, rubbing her eyes, as if she can’t believe what she saw. “I’ll get seven figures, easy. High sevens. Maybe eights.”
“Maybe I should open the book again, see if Ms. W pops out,” I say, feeling a little sick and guilty all at once.
“Wait,” Heathcliff says, putting his hand on mine. “We’ll lose what little debris from the Pequod we have left.”
“The H-man has a point,” Samir says. “Unless you want to dog paddle back to Bard Academy.”
“Um, are you guys going to just sit there or is someone going to tell me what the heck just happened?” This is from my sister, who is sitting up in the rowboat and rubbing her head. “And by the way, any of you dorks see my retainer around here?”
Twenty-seven
The rowboat, which amazingly was not sucked into the book, has Lindsay and Ryan in it. Ahab and his crew are gone. She scoots over to make room for us and Blade, Samir, Parker, Heathcliff, and I crawl in.
“Does anyone know which direction land is?” I ask.
Everyone looks baffled. I take that as a “no.”
“Well, what I want to know,” Lindsay says, “is just how long were you going to keep the Bard secret from me anyway? I mean, just when were you going to tell me how frickin’ cool this school is?”
“Yeah, and you almost destroyed it and everything else,” I say.
“Details, details,” Lindsay says. “So is it true? Is our great-great-great-whatever a fictional character? And is Heathcliff the Heathcliff?”
“Yes and yes,” I say.
“Okay, ghosts I get. Heathcliff I get. But you two, no way,” Parker says, shaking her head. She might be forced to believe that Moby Dick can come to life and that her teachers are ghosts, but accepting that the Tate sisters are special is simply too much of a stretch for her. I glance at Lindsay, expecting her to change her mind and agree with Parker, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just pretends like she didn’t hear her.
“So does this mean we have, like, superpowers or something? I mean, because if we do, I am so making an outfit and, like, getting an alter ego, ’cause, like, all superheroes have one and…”
“Is she every going to shut up?” Blade asks.
“Probably not,” I say.
“Paddle! Everybody, let’s paddle!” Blade commands.
Even with all of us paddling, we don’t make it very far. And we’re not even sure exactly the right way we should be headed, so we soon give up. There aren’t exactly any landmarks way out to sea. Heathcliff suggests we conserve our strength and wait for rescue.
We float for another hour, at which point I don’t know how much longer I can sit in this hard, uncomfortable little rowboat. Not to mention, it’s sprung a slow leak, so the floor has an inch of water in it and my shoes are sopping wet and my toes are numb from the cold. And when my sister isn’t talking about being a super-hero, Parker is ranting about just how much money she’s going to get out of the school when her father finds out about the purgatory thing. And no matter how often we try to tell her that you can’t talk about Bard’s secret outside campus, much less in a courtroom, she just doesn’t believe us. Ryan is quiet and just stares out to sea. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but I’m sure he’s got the whole Rebecca thing to process. I don’t have much time to think about it because I’m busy looking at Heathcliff, grateful he’s still here. He sees me looking at him and covers his hand with mine.
“We’ll be all right,” he whispers in my ear and I believe him.
As more time passes, I start to think about Hana. I hope she got away from that guy in the woods. I can’t wait to tell her about everything that happened. I sure hope she’s okay.
“What do you think happened to Hana?” I ask Heathcliff. He shrugs. He doesn’t know.
“I’m betting she got away,” Samir says. “She’s the fastest runner I know.”
“She doesn’t run fast,” I protest. Hana is more of a bookworm than an athlete.
Samir shrugs. “Yeah, I know. I was just trying to make you feel better,” Samir says. “But I still think she got away.”
“We didn’t see her on the Pequod,” Blade points out. “So chances are she wasn’t captured.”
This is true and it makes me feel better.
“What about Ms. W?” Samir asks. “I mean, you think we can ever get her out of the book?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Who cares about your stupid little friends?” Parker sneers. “What about me? I think my ankle is broken. I know it is.” She rubs it gingerly and I have to admit it looks bad. It’s swollen and it’s black and blue. Still, I’m pissed that she called Hana and Ms. W stupid. But I’m not surprised. Parker never thinks of anyone but herself. “Lindsay, would you give me your jacket, so I can elevate it?”
I half expect Lindsay to do it, even though it’s freezing out, and the wind is blowing hard and we’re all practically shaking from the cold. Lindsay, however, just pulls her jacket closer to her and wrinkles her nose.
“As if,” Lindsay scoffs, clearly not letting go of her jacket anytime soon. Parker is shocked. Lindsay has never actually denied Parker anything before. I guess this means that Parker’s hold on Lindsay is broken. Finally.
“I guess you’ll have to find a new clone,” I tell Parker.
“Oh, shut up, the both of you,” Parker growls, put out.
Lindsay and I exchange a smile.
“Guys, how good does the Bard Academy cafeteria food seem right now?” Ryan asks, cutting through the tension to change the subject.
“Really good,” I agree.
“You guys are pathetic,” Blade says. “We’re out here in the ocean and you’re dreaming about Bard Academy food? How about some Taco Bell?”
“I would totally go for some Red Lobster,” Samir says.
We all stare at him.
“You can’t be serious,” I say.
“What? All this talk about Moby Dick, it got me hungry for seafood.”
“Wait, guys, what’s that?” Ryan asks, pointing to the horizon.
We all look in the direction he’s pointing and we see it. A huge ship.
“But I thought the Pequod was sucked back into Moby-Dick,” Blade says.
“It was, that’s something else,” I say.
“It’s the Rachel!”
Samir shouts. “The other boat in Moby-Dick. The one that saves Ishmael.”
“We’re saved? We’re saved!” Parker says. “Oh, thank God.”
When the ship gets close enough, I see a familiar figure standing on deck. It’s Coach H.
The Rachel slows down a bit and Coach H orders the crew to scramble into rowboats. In a few minutes, one of the boats paddles out to us.
And then I notice someone else who looks a bit familiar in the boat.
“That looks like…” Heathcliff starts.
“It can’t be,” I say, blinking hard.
“Hana?” Samir asks, unsure, as the boat gets closer to us.
“Ahoy, mateys!” shouts Hana. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and is wearing what looks to be a captain’s hat with a big white plume in it. “Did someone ask for a rescue?” she adds, stretching out her hand to me.
Twenty-eight
“Boy, am I glad to see you,” I tell Hana as soon as I’m in the rowboat. “The sailors—I thought for sure they got you. But then, I didn’t see you on the boat, so…where have you been?”
“Um, saving your butt, that’s where I’ve been,” Hana says, grinning. “As usual, you’re the one getting into trouble and I’m the one saving you.”
“You saving me? I don’t know about that!”
“Anyway, those guys that were after us on the rock ledge weren’t Ahab’s men. They were led by Queequeg, who apparently staged a mutiny and went to work for the Rachel. He took some men with him, which was why Ahab was short on crew members.”
“That didn’t happen in the book,” Samir says.
“Yes, well, change of plan in this version of the story,” Hana says. “And Coach H was already on the ship when I got here. Those other Bard students who were kidnapped got back to campus and told him everything, apparently. So then we saved your sorry butts.”
“Hey, watch who you’re calling sorry,” Blade says as we get to the Rachel. We climb up a rope ladder and onto the bigger ship. On deck, we come face-to-face with a tattoo-covered sailor who looks a lot more like a cannibal than a whaler. And he’s beating a drum. So that’s where the drumming sound came from? I guess that’s one mystery solved.
Moby Clique Page 17
