by Nancy Krulik
“Maybe that picture was a fake, but Nessie isn’t,” Mr. Dreich tells her. “People have been spotting him since before there were cameras. Saint Columba saw a monster in Loch Ness nearly fifteen hundred years ago. Dr. Mackenzie saw Nessie churning up the waters in the 1800s.”
“But—” Sofia begins
“Nessie is very real,” Mr. Dreich says, cutting her off. “Dangerous, too. Especially when he thinks someone is after him. Like those reporters.”
“They’re not after Nessie,” I insist. “They just want a story.”
“Once it gets out that Nessie’s been spotted again, this place will be filled with people who want to catch him and put him on display… or worse,” Mr. Dreich says in a worrisome voice.
Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that.
“That’s going to put folks in danger,” he continues. “Because the Loch Ness Monster will do anything to keep from getting caught.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Tony says, biting even harder at his fingers.
Now we all seem a little scared. We’re just sitting there, staring at Ms. Frogbottom, hoping our teacher will tell us that everything will be okay.
But Ms. Frogbottom doesn’t say a word.
And somehow that makes everything scarier.
FROGBOTTOM FACTS
The custom of Scottish high tea started in the 1600s. It was a meal served to workmen at the end of the day, usually around five o’clock in the afternoon.
High tea got its name because the meal was eaten while sitting at a high table, as opposed to sitting on comfortable sofas and chairs.
5
“I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE GOING to visit a real castle!” Emma exclaims excitedly as we walk up the hill to Urquhart Castle. “Will we get to see a princess, Ms. Frogbottom?”
Our teacher shakes her head. “Sorry, Emma. No one has lived at Urquhart Castle since the 1600s.”
We cross over a wooden bridge, taking care not to slip on the wet wood beneath our feet. On one side of us, I can see Loch Ness. On the other I see green hills and trees. Oh, and sheep. Lots and lots of sheep.
“Look up there!” exclaims Ms. Frogbottom, pointing overhead. “That’s a golden eagle! Isn’t it majestic?”
FROGBOTTOM FACTS
Scotland has more sheep than people.
There are almost fifteen thousand sheep farms in Scotland.
My teacher pulls a small notebook and a pencil from her backpack. “Golden eagle,” she says as she writes in her book. “I can’t wait to tell the members of my bird-watching group that I spotted one of those.”
We walk a little farther, until Ms. Frogbottom stops and points to some broken stone walls that look like they were once a part of a building but aren’t anymore.
“Here we are!” she announces excitedly.
Urquhart Castle doesn’t look like any castle I’ve ever seen in the movies. There are a few places that seem like they were once buildings, but mostly all I see are piles of rocks, with signs telling us what used to be here.
“This is it?” Emma sounds really bummed.
“Yes!” Ms. Frogbottom exclaims. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
“Not really,” Emma says. “Everything looks like it was blown up.”
“Exactly,” Ms. Frogbottom replies. “The last army to live here blew up parts of the castle before they left. They wanted to make sure their enemies wouldn’t be able to use it.”
“There were armies here?” Aiden asks.
“Oh yes,” Ms. Frogbottom says. “Can’t you just picture the soldiers fighting with their swords, guns, and crossbows on this hill? Imagine the excitement of the MacDonald clan when they stormed the castle back in 1545. They were able to steal almost nine thousand animals, twenty guns, and three boats. Not to mention beds, sheets, chairs, doors—”
“Doors?” Aiden asks. “Why would anybody want to take doors?”
“They were probably beautifully carved and decorated,” Sofia suggests. “It sounds like the MacDonald clan took anything of value from Urquhart Castle.”
“What’s that building?” Olivia points to a tower made of stacked stones, with small holes that look like they were once windows.
“Grant Tower,” Ms. Frogbottom replies. “It’s named for the Grant family, who built the building in the 1500s and…”
Ms. Frogbottom is telling us all sorts of stuff about the tower, but I’m not listening. I’m just thinking about how badly I want to be back at the edge of Loch Ness, waiting with that news crew for Nessie to appear.
I know that could be dangerous. But “Danger” is a news kid’s middle name.
Okay, my middle name is Zachary, but you know what I mean.
“You can see most of Loch Ness from the top of the tower,” Ms. Frogbottom continues, pointing straight up.
Wait a minute! That’s it!
Mr. Dreich said people had reported seeing the Loch Ness Monster from the castle. If I got a glimpse of him from up there, I wouldn’t be in any danger. It’s the perfect plan!
“Let’s go up!” I cheer.
Tony gives me a look. “Didn’t you hear Ms. Frogbottom? That tower’s almost forty feet high!”
I didn’t hear her say that. But I think it’s great.
“Think of what we could see from up there!” I don’t say anything about possibly spotting the Loch Ness Monster. There’s no sense in freaking Tony out again. But seeing the monster is definitely what I’m imagining.
Actually, I’m imagining what will happen after I write my Loch Ness Monster newspaper story. I might get a medal for it. I bet Scoop Schaeffer would be really impressed to meet a news kid with a medal.
I wonder if they throw parades for newspaper editors.
“There’s no way I’m going up there,” Tony says nervously.
“Maybe we should look at something else,” Aiden suggests. “Didn’t Mr. Dreich say there was a prison here? That could be cool.”
“No!” I shout suddenly. “Why are we letting Tony ruin everything?”
“Oliver!” Ms. Frogbottom sounds really upset with me. “That’s no way to speak about your friend. Apologize to Tony immediately.”
“I’m sorry you’re afraid of heights,” I say.
“Try again,” Ms. Frogbottom orders sternly.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have said you were ruining everything.”
“I didn’t mean to ruin anything,” Tony insists.
Now the other kids are looking at me like I’m a monster. And not the kind of monster that belongs on the front page of the 4A Gazette.
“Perhaps we should go look at where the stables once stood,” Ms. Frogbottom suggests. “Come along.”
We follow behind her.
“Scottish Highland horses had to be especially strong,” Ms. Frogbottom tells us. “When lords and ladies traveled, the horses pulled all their belongings up and down the hills. And… oh my!”
Our teacher stops suddenly and stares at a bird by some nearby trees. “There’s a capercaillie, one of the rarest birds in this area. I have to get a better look. I’ll just go over by those pine trees while you all explore the stables.” And with that, she hurries off into the trees.
I don’t exactly know what Ms. Frogbottom wants us to explore. All I see are some rocks that look like they might have been at the bottom of a building at one time. You wouldn’t even know what had been here if there wasn’t a sign that said THE STABLES.
“Look!” Emma exclaims suddenly. She points toward the rocks.
A real horse has emerged from behind the pile of stones. It’s black with a small patch of white fur on the top of its head.
“That’s strange,” Sofia replies, studying her tablet. “There haven’t been any horses in the Urquhart Castle stables for hundreds of years.”
“Well, there’s one here now,” Emma tells her. “It’s beautiful! Look at that shiny fur.”
“That horse isn’t supposed to be here,” Sofia says. “I wonder where it came from.”
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“Who cares?” Emma declares. “It’s pretty. And it seems so gentle.” She starts walking toward the horse.
“Don’t!” Tony exclaims.
“Quiet,” Emma warns. “You’ll scare it off.”
“If that’s a kelpie, I want to scare it off,” Tony tells her.
“Tony,” Sofia says calmly. “You don’t really believe all that shape-shifting stuff, do you?”
“Yeah,” Aiden agrees. “This is just a horse.”
Suddenly there’s a flash of lightning against the gray sky. A few seconds later the thunder booms.
FROGBOTTOM FACTS
It rains a lot in Scotland. In fact, in the Scottish Highlands it rains more than two hundred fifty days a year.
The horse runs off in fright just as Ms. Frogbottom hurries toward us.
“We should head back…,” she begins, reaching into her backpack.
No. No. No! Please don’t pull out the Magic Map, I pray silently. I don’t want to go back to school until I see that monster and get my medal—I mean my story.
“… to the inn,” Ms. Frogbottom finishes as she fishes umbrellas out of her pack and hands them to us.
Yes. Yes. Yes! We may have a chance to spot the Loch Ness Monster after all.
6
“HAVE YOU SPOTTED NESSIE YET?” I ask Finn a little while later. The rain has let up and the fog has cleared. Finn, Amelia, and Millie are back on the rocky shore of Loch Ness with their news reporting equipment all set up and ready to go.
“Please, laddie,” Finn says. “Let us do our jobs.”
Finn is still trying to get rid of me. But at least this time he said “please.”
“Do you have the video camera ready?” Amelia asks Finn.
“Oh yeah,” Finn assures her. “If Nessie’s out there, we’ll get our shot.”
I wish I had a camera with me. Newspaper articles are so much better with photos.
But Ms. Frogbottom has a strict rule. No taking photos when we go on our field trips. She says she wants us to experience everything firsthand, through our senses. Not through a camera lens.
“Hey, Oliver? You want to play soccer?” Aiden calls out.
My classmates are kicking a ball around on the wet grass a few feet from the news van. They’re keeping busy as we all wait for Ms. Frogbottom to come back from the old inn across the road. She went there to find Mr. Dreich and get us a snack. Because Aiden is hungry—again.
FROGBOTTOM FACTS
Football (or soccer, as it is called in the United States) has been played in Scotland since the Middle Ages.
While our teacher is at the inn, we’re supposed to stay together and not leave the area. Which we won’t. None of us would disobey Ms. Frogbottom. There’s nothing worse than having to have a “talk” with her about “how disappointed” she is in our behavior. Those talks are awful.
“In Scotland it’s called ‘football,’ not ‘soccer,’ ” Sofia corrects Aiden. She kicks the ball—hard. It soars across the grass at top speed.
“Whoa!” Aiden compliments Sofia. “You kick like Rose Reilly—and she was one of Scotland’s greatest soccer players.”
“Thanks!” Sofia replies with a grin.
“Oliver, are you gonna play with us or what?” Olivia demands.
My sister wants me to play soccer now? When at any minute the Loch Ness Monster could pop out of that lake?
Or not.
Loch Ness is completely still. If there’s a monster in there, he’s not moving.
Maybe I should just go kick the ball around a bit. My classmates seem like they’re having fun and—
“Look at that!” I shout out suddenly. “Something’s happening in the loch!”
Suddenly the news crew leaps into action. Amelia, Millie, and Finn are all shouting at once and pointing toward the middle of the lake. Waves are starting to churn, even though there’s no wind blowing.
Whatever is making those waves is definitely in Loch Ness.
I’m getting excited. My nose for news is telling me that something big is about to go down.
And I’m not the only one who thinks so. My classmates are racing over to the water’s edge. They want to take a closer look at what’s going on too.
“Check it out!” Aiden exclaims.
“I don’t like this,” Tony adds nervously. “Not one bit.”
“Fascinating,” Sofia mumbles as she stares up into the sky. A whole flock of birds has taken off from the trees and flown away from the lake. “It’s too bad Ms. Frogbottom had to go find Mr. Dreich. She would have loved seeing all those birds.”
“WHOA!” Finn’s eyes look like they’re going to burst from his head.
I don’t blame him. Three big, slimy humps are popping out of the water. That could be the back of—
“Nessie!” Amelia exclaims.
Exactly what I was thinking.
“We’re going out there!” Finn races over to the news van. “Help me with the rowboat, Millie.”
He doesn’t have to ask her twice. Millie hurries over. Together she and Finn pull out a small wooden boat.
“Out of the way, kids,” Millie says as she and Finn push the boat out onto the water. “We’ve got a news story to go after.”
So do I. I really want to get into that boat and go out on Loch Ness. It’s not like Ms. Frogbottom said I couldn’t do that. In fact, I distinctly remember her saying we were going to take a boat ride today.
But I bet she didn’t mean we should get into a boat without her.
Besides, Ms. Frogbottom told our class to stay together while she went across the street. And there isn’t enough room in that boat for all of us.
So I’m stuck on the shore watching with everyone else as Millie climbs into the rowboat and sits between the oars. Finn and Amelia climb in too. Then they row out into the loch.
“I can’t believe they went out in a rowboat without life jackets,” Tony says.
“Do you really think a life jacket would protect them from an angry, vicious, dinosaur-size monster?” I ask Tony.
Tony shrugs. “It couldn’t hurt.” He looks out at the choppy dark waters of Loch Ness. “Those guys are idiots.”
“No, they’re not,” I argue. “They’re reporters. Sheesh, Tony.”
Tony frowns. I think I may have hurt his feelings.
But he isn’t even trying to understand how important getting this story is to me. And that hurts my feelings.
“Look at that water blow!” Olivia exclaims. “It’s like a hurricane.”
She’s not kidding. The waves are shooting into the air, with their whitecaps bumping wildly into one another as they come crashing down. The roar of the waves is so loud, I can barely hear Sofia, even though she’s standing right between my sister and me.
“Hurricanes have high winds,” Sofia tells Olivia. “There’s no wind here. That’s all coming from a force within the water.”
A force like a monster. A man-eating, angry monster. The kind of monster that helps a news kid win a best-newspaper contest.
I don’t know whether to be scared or excited.
By now, a whole group of people have gathered by the lake. I look for Ms. Frogbottom in the crowd, but my teacher is nowhere to be found.
Neither is Mr. Dreich. Which is strange. This is all going on right across from his inn. You would think he’d be the first one to come out and see what’s happening.
Fog-like steam rises up from the middle of the lake, making it hard to see the news crew’s tiny rowboat. I can just about make it out as it struggles to stay afloat against the waves.
SPLASH. Oh no! The rowboat flipped over!
Mr. Dreich was right. Nessie will stop at nothing to keep from having his picture taken—even if it means drowning Millie, Amelia, and Finn in Loch Ness!
“Nessie is one mad monster!” Aiden’s eyes grow wide with fear.
“I don’t see anyone out there,” Sofia says. She sounds worried too.
“Do you think Nessie is ea
ting them?” Tony asks.
“Wait! There they are.” Emma points toward the middle of the lake. Sure enough, through the fog I can see Amelia and Millie bobbing up from under the surface of the lake. They are swimming hard toward the shore. But there’s no sign of Finn, anywhere.
Has the Loch Ness Monster taken another victim?
For a country that has a fairy-tale unicorn as its mascot, Scotland sure is one scary place.
7
“THIS IS BAD,” TONY MUTTERS. “Bad. Bad. Bad.”
He’s not wrong. This is bad. That monster is no joke.
“Have you seen Finn?” Millie asks Amelia frantically as the two women climb up on shore. They are both dripping wet and shivering.
“I can’t see anything through that fog,” Amelia answers, sounding every bit as panicked. “Nessie really didn’t want us to get him on video, did he?”
“We’re not getting any video today,” Millie replies. “All the equipment is at the bottom of Loch Ness.”
“Hopefully Finn’s not down there too,” Amelia adds nervously.
“Wait! What’s that?” Olivia shouts, pointing toward the fog in the center of the lake.
“I can’t tell,” Aiden says. “It’s too far away.”
“Whatever it is, it’s coming this way,” Emma adds.
“I’m outta here!” Tony starts running away from the lake.
The steam begins to clear. That’s when I see…
One hump.
Two humps.
Three humps.
Four? Where’d that hump come from?
Wait. That’s not a hump. It’s—
“Is that Nessie’s head?” Aiden asks nervously. “I think I see red hair.”
“Do you think Nessie can get to us if we’re on the shore?” Olivia takes a few steps back.
“Maybe we should go into the inn,” Emma suggests in fear.
“No.” My throat is so dry, I can hardly get the word out. I’m scared too. But I’m not leaving. I’ve been waiting all day for this.
“That’s not Nessie’s head,” Millie corrects Aiden. “It’s Finn’s.”
