Joey was yelling. He hoped Beezer was watching. Then he was embarrassed because Beezer might be watching. He wasn’t acting very courageous. He was hurt and confused. Henrietta spoke of courage and love. How would that help him now? He was still trapped in this land. The map was still at the bottom of the lake.
Joey kicked a pinecone. It flew between the tree trunks and landed in the water near the shore. It bobbed and floated in its new resting place. Joey kicked another and then another into the lake. Walking closer to the lake he raised his arm to throw the doll into the lake. He stopped when he realized what he was doing.
“No,” he said. “No, I won’t do that. I would never do that to you.” He stared at the doll’s unblinking eyes; he was seeing Glory in his mind. He held the doll close to his chest again.
“Remember why you are brave,” Henrietta had said.
“For love,” Joey mumbled. “For love of my family.” Joey’s anger faded.
“Seems to me like your adventure here isn’t over.” Joey could still hear the words as she spoke them.
Then it hit him—the adventure of this world would be finding a way to go home. In the other two worlds he was saving someone else. This time he was saving himself. He looked out across the lake. The only way home was through the map. The map was at the bottom of the lake. He was a bad swimmer and scared of the water.
“Oh, boy,” he said anxiously, when he realized what he was going to have to do. Fear, familiar like an old enemy, started buzzing in his stomach again. How would he ever swim down to where the map was? It was impossible. That’s why he hadn’t already tried it. “There must be a way,” he said. Henrietta wouldn’t have come and given him hope if there wasn’t. He was sure of that. Warm confidence grew in him even though he didn’t have the answer yet. He began to think.
On this side of the lake the bank fell away sharply into deep, dark water. On the far side, the side his camp was on, the water color was lighter.
“It’s not so deep over there,” Joey thought.
He looked about where he had seen the map sinking. Yes, the water was lighter there, shallower. Still, anything over his head was too deep. He could never swim out that far without drowning. He had barely made it to shore from where he had landed in the water. The map was another fifty feet out. Feelings of despair fought with feelings of hope as he paced back and forth. This was just too much. His eyes fell on the pinecones floating in the water. Before he had taken swimming lessons his dad had put him in the pool with a life vest. He had floated like these pine cones. An idea formed in his head.
Joey started back around the lake. It was late afternoon when he got back to his campsite. He had come up with a plan and already put it into action. Taking off his t-shirt he stuffed it full of pinecones, so full he worried it might rip. He tied the top and bottom of the shirt closed with his shoelaces. What he ended up with was something like a poky, lumpy beach ball.
Fear gripped Joey as he stood at the edge of the water. He did not want to go out into the lake again. He remembered the feel of water closing in over his head. Fear whispered, “You will drown.”
Before his first near drowning experience he decided to jump off the high dive at the city pool. He had gotten to the edge and looked down. He couldn’t do it. He turned around and went back down enduring the jeers of the other kids. Joey turned and looked at what he would be “going back down to” here. There were forests and meadows; hills and mountains. But there was no family. All this beauty was meaningless without someone to share it with. Without the map this land was just a big, beautiful prison. He looked down at the doll he had sat on a rock facing the lake. She stared across the water with untroubled eyes, totally content.
“I can’t be content here, like you,” Joey said. “I need to go home.” He leaned over toward the doll and whispered, “I miss Glory.” The doll listened quietly. Joey knew she would keep his secret.
Joey stared at the lake again. It was a simple choice: risk death for the opportunity to be among those he loved, or live here alone forever. Pushing against an icy fear Joey chose. He waded out into the lake, stumbling over the rocky bottom as he went. He stopped when the water was waist deep. It was cold. He sat his pinecone beach ball in the water. It floated.
“Yes,” he said pumping his fist.
That was as far as his victory went. When he lay across the lumpy pine cone ball it sank under his weight. It hardly pushed back. And like a beach ball it didn’t want to stay under him. It continually tried to float up on either side of him. He tried to hang on to it with one arm and paddle with the other. That didn’t work either. Fighting with it made him more tired than just swimming. As he struggled with it he swallowed water and coughed. Frantically he reached for the bottom. He was grateful when his foot touched a rock and he was just able to keep his head above water.
Shivering, Joey made his way back to shore where he rested on the warm rocks. His pine cone ball bobbed low in the water out where he abandoned it. The bitter taste of disappointment rose in the back of his throat. When he had the pinecone idea he was so sure it was the answer. If the flotation device wasn’t the answer, what was? Joey’s anxiety grew as he sat thinking. Perhaps he was stuck here forever?
“No!” He just knew there was a way to get the map.
Standing up he addressed the lake.
“I can swim,” he said. “I’m not very good at it, but I can swim.”
With sheer determination Joey waded back into the lake. He forced himself to keep going until the water was up to his neck. Then he lifted his legs and swam. His head immediately went under and he swallowed water. He rolled over onto his back to float. His legs and rear end sank. Water splashed over his face. Panicking he thrashed and splashed his way back to where he could touch bottom. Defeated, he made his way back to shore.
Salty tears mixed with the fresh lake water on his face.
“What am I supposed to do?” he yelled. He wiped his nose on his hand. “WHAT?”
The doll sat silently on its rock nearby. The serene look on its face annoyed him.
“You’re a big help,” Joey said. He wiped the tears from his face with his hands. Wet and without his shirt he was cold. The sun was nearing the mountaintops behind him. He didn’t want to spend another night here.
Joey lay back on the warm rocks and stared at the sky. The map was just 150 feet away. His family was so close and yet so far away. If he could just float long enough to get over the map just maybe he could swim down and get it. In water “down” was a direction he seemed good at.
His wet jeans stuck to his legs. They were heavy and made his attempts at swimming harder. Would taking them off make the difference he needed? He didn’t think so.
The thought of his jeans triggered a memory. Joey sat up. If the doll could have, it would have laughed at the look on his face. In Cub Scouts he had gone to a lifesaving demonstration put on by a local scout troop. During part of the demonstration they had turned their jeans into life preservers. They tied the leg ends together, zipped the zipper and buttoned them up. They filled them with air by blowing in them underwater. It was as clear in his mind as if he had just watched it yesterday.
Joey got up and began to peel himself out of his wet jeans.
“Don’t look,” he said to the doll. She didn’t turn her head, but he wasn’t so sure she wasn’t peeking out of the corner of her eyes.
He zipped and buttoned the jeans and tied the ends of the legs together as tightly as he could. Shivering, but full of hope, he waded back out into the lake. Steeling himself against the cold he put his face under the water and blew air into the pants. The legs began to inflate.
“Yes!” he cried.
With the legs filled with air the pants floated as good as a life jacket. It would easily hold him up. He put his head between the pant legs so the knot in the legs was behind his head. As long as he held the waist down underwater the air didn’t bubble out. Holding the waistband against him with his arms he swam alternatel
y on his belly or his back using his legs to propel himself.
As he swam the sun set behind the hill. He had to hurry. Even with the make-shift lifejacket Joey was scared when he got to deeper water. Panic swam right beside him, but he wouldn’t give it his attention. He focused his thoughts on his family.
“Mom,” he said. He breathed and kicked, “Glory.” Breathe, kick, “Story.” Breathe, kick . . . he hesitated, “Dad!” He repeated this as he slowly worked his way to the place he last remembered seeing the map.
The water was clear. He could see the bottom. There were rounded boulders down below. He got to where he thought the map was and didn’t see it. Panic almost got the better of him. His hope was sinking with the sun.
“Henrietta wouldn’t have come if there wasn’t a way,” he said. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. The thought buoyed his hope.
“Sometimes you know things without knowing,” Beezer had said.
The life-jacket made it hard to look down. On his belly he couldn’t lean too far forward without losing the air from the jeans. Leaning to one side he was able to glance sideways down into the water.
His heart leapt when he saw it. The map lay unfolded next to a large rock ten or twelve feet down. Joey’s excitement faded when he realized what would come next. He was going to have to let go of the life jacket in order to swim down to the map. When he did the air would escape and the life jacket would be no use anymore.
Joey was numb with fear.
“Oh, Henrietta,” he said, voice shaking. “I wish there was another way.” In his mind’s eye he saw Beezer watching him in one of the colored bubbles. He wondered if Beezer was as nervous as he was.
“Here I come, Beezer,” he said.
With that he took a big breath and let go of the jeans. The water was so much colder when it closed over his head. Joey pulled with his arms and kicked. At eight feet under his progress slowed and his ears began to hurt. In fear he began flailing. Wasn’t going down supposed to be easier than this? With an almost overwhelming desire to breathe he turned back toward the surface. The old air in his lungs helped him back up. When the air touched his face he took in great gulps. He looked desperately for his jeans and saw them about ten feet away just under the surface of the water. They were slowly sinking.
Joey looked toward shore. It was too far away. He would never make it back. He saw the doll serenely staring out at him. He remembered Glory’s smell on the doll. He would see Glory again or die trying.
Taking another gulp of air he went down again. Joey knew this would be his last attempt. An unexpected calmness came over him. In a minute he would either reach home or die. Either way the adventure would end.
His eyes focused on the map. He kicked and pulled as hard as he could. Again, at eight feet there was a sharp pain in his ears and his progress slowed. This time he pushed air out of his lungs. Bubbles rushed past his face. With the buoyant air gone he made three more feet in one stroke. He was just seconds away from drowning.
The map was just one foot away. His mind was fogging. He was dying. Through the fog he saw the home heart in bright red on the map.
“Home!” he thought. He gave one more kick and reached. The light grew dim. The weight of the water pressed hard on him. Everything faded. His last thought was that dying was a lot like using the map.
Chapter 16
Joey slowly regained consciousness. He became aware of water all around him. Was he lying face down at the bottom of the lake—dead? Something was odd. The water felt warmer, softer, and he was breathing. Did you breathe when you were dead? With each sweet breath he smelled mud and wet grass.
When he opened his eyes he saw water everywhere. It wasn’t the lake. This water was splashing bubbling like it was boiling. He caught glimpses of grass and mud sticking out above the surface. There was noise, too—a great rushing din. With an effort Joey raised his head. He was weak and his head felt heavy. Rain. It was pouring rain. He turned his head and stared disbelieving for a moment. It was the garage!
With effort he rolled over and sat up Indian style. The rain pounded down. The limbs of the weeping willow hung wet around him. Through the sodden limbs he saw the mansion. Joey was home.
The transition from the bottom of the lake to the watery backyard was confusing. He didn’t remember actually touching the map. He had been a blink away from death at the bottom of the lake. Joey still wasn’t convinced he was alive.
His right hand was tightly closed. He opened his fist and stared. It was crumpled and torn, but there was the bottom corner of the magic map. The bright red heart glowed through the rain. The words were still clear, Home is where the heart is.
Tears rolled down his face with the raindrops. This time they were for pure joy. Something wonderful had happened to him; something even bigger than coming home. Gratitude and love were the cornerstones of the joy he felt. He thought of Henrietta and Beezer. He thought of Captain Call and Tahee. He thought of his family. He recognized a love as deep as eternity. Joey couldn’t contain the joy he felt and sobbed out loud in the din of the rain.
A voice came to him through the rain.
“Henrietta?” he said, looking around.
It wasn’t her. It was Mrs. Johanaby. She called to him from the back porch. She was still wearing her cut-off sweats and Scooby Doo shirt. She was barefoot. To Joey’s eyes she looked as beautiful as Henrietta in her curls and hoop skirt.
Mrs. Johanaby spotted Joey sitting in the rain. She leapt off the porch and ran to him with muddy, splashing steps.
“Joey. JOEY!” Ignoring the rain she knelt down in the mud in front of him, felt his forehead, and then cupped his face in her hands. “What are you doing sitting in the rain? Are you all right? I thought you were still in bed. When I checked, you weren’t there.” She looked into his face and somehow detected his tears in spite of the rain.
“Oh, Joey,” she said, not understanding it was joy he felt and not pain. She pulled him close. He lifted his heavy arms and put them around her. In her embrace he felt such contentment he never wanted to let go. When her hold loosened and his didn’t Mrs. Johanaby tightened hers again. She pushed her cheek against his ear and ran her fingers through his wet hair.
“Let’s get you in out of the rain,” she said into his ear. Still on her knees Mrs. Johanaby tried to lift Joey in her arms to carry him to the house just as she had with Glory. Joey was far too heavy for this.
“Mom, I can walk. I’m okay,” he said.
Mrs. Johanaby let him slip to his feet. Unwilling to fully let go she put a supporting arm around him as they walked to the house.
Under the protection of the porch roof they stopped and looked at each other. The rain drummed a dull roar on the roof. Her hair lay tangled and flattened on her head. Water dripped down her face and off her chin. There were dark circles under her eyes.
“Aren’t we a sight?” Joey said.
Mrs. Johanaby laughed, and then cried. She pulled Joey close for another soggy hug. Joey patted her back. This time she didn’t want to let go. In no hurry Joey laid his head on her shoulder.
“I missed you, Mom,” he said. He felt her body stiffen slightly in a question.
“Missed me?” she said, loosening her hold and meeting his eyes. “You mean, last night when I was at the hospital with Glory?”
Last night? Joey thought. This is the morning of the same day I left on my adventures? He didn’t understand how that could be. If no time had passed had he really gone on any adventures at all?
Joey opened his hand. The map fragment was still there. His memory of the adventures was clear. He felt the difference his adventures made inside him. Yes, he had gone.
Mrs. Johanaby looked at the fragment, too. Thinking he was offering it to her in answer to her question she gently took it. She studied the heart and read the words; Home is where the heart is. She looked into Joey’s eyes. Not understanding what it meant her eyes flicked nervously to the left. Joey recognized the nervous habit. She did
this when she was uncomfortable.
“Why were you sitting in the rain,” she asked. It was a question meekly asked. She was afraid of something, Joey could tell.
He thought for a moment, and then he answered. “I went to see Beezer in the garage, and . . . and I fell.” Both of those things were true if not completely accurate.
His mother’s eyes flicked nervously to the left again. She knew he was holding something back and was afraid of whatever it was. She was trying to find courage to face it. Joey understood this. He also knew what it was she was afraid of. It was there in her eyes, a hint of the same look he had seen when she realized that she hadn’t gone back to the pond for him. Even though he was alive in her arms at that moment she was afraid that she had lost him in some other way.
“I am sorry, Joey,” she said. “I am so sorry.” She pulled him close again and held him more tightly than was comfortable. She was crying.
Joey again laid his head on her shoulder, this time with his face in her dripping hair. “I love you, Mom,” he said. His thoughts were a jumble. Those were the only words to reach his mouth. They made Mrs. Johanaby cry harder. Joey cried with her. Finally, with a hiccup, she stopped crying and loosened her grip. She smiled embarrassedly and wiped her face with her hands.
“Go get some dry clothes on. Then come back down to the kitchen. I’ll have Cream of Wheat ready with gummy bears,” she said. “I have something I want to read you.”
On his way to the stairs Glory and Story stepped out of the TV room. Joey recognized the sound of the same show they were watching when he left for the garage. They looked at him curiously as he stood dripping on the floor.
“Mom’s going to be mad,” Glory said. Her voice was soft and threatening. This was her way of telling him she was going to tell—maybe. It was a power play she used often.
“No she’s not.” Joey said it calmly and with authority— authority that comes with speaking the truth. A troubled frown formed on her lips. She wasn’t used to being resisted.
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