by Jon Berkeley
“Nails will be fine,” said Bea. Theo smiled to himself and clutched his backpack a little tighter.
Granny Delphine looked at the back of the boy’s head and sighed. “Either way, it’s all the same,” she said under her breath, though no one would have known what she meant even if they could have heard her.
“This is it,” said Pa. “Clipper Quay. Look out for number eleven.”
They slowed to a crawl, searching for numbers on the unlit warehouses. They found number ten and number twelve. Sandwiched between them was a car wash, standing like a mechanical mammoth against the evening sky. There was a small booth to one side, lit with a greenish fluorescent light. A neon sign read, MR. WAXY. Pa frowned. “That can’t be right,” he said.
“Did you check the back of your hand?” asked Bea.
“Very funny,” said Pa.
The door of the booth opened suddenly, and Captain Bontoc popped out as though he had been stored under pressure. He marched quickly toward them. “Ahoy, there!” he said. “Not a moment too soon. Let’s get you signed up and your luggage loaded. Look lively!” He glanced at the sky. “Departure in ten minutes.”
“I have some questions,” said Ma, leaning out of her window.
“All in good time, ma’am,” said Captain Bontoc. “If you’d just line up for check-in I’ll transfer your baggage to the bus; then we’ll fill you in on the details.”
“What bus?” asked Phoebe as they climbed out of the van.
Captain Bontoc had already grabbed several suitcases and wedged a couple of sleeping bags under his arms, so he pointed with his beard. In the shadows behind the booth stood a battered bus with a rather strange shape. It seemed to be cobbled together from several vehicles, and the underside was curved like the hull of a submarine. Six wheels poked out through open hatches in the hull like cannon from a sailing ship. Along the side were stenciled the words:
SKY BLACK, MOON BLUE
NINE SOULS GO THROUGH.
“It’s a busmarine!” said Theo.
“That’s the Blue Moon Mobile,” said Captain Bontoc. “One of only two in existence.”
Pa examined the vehicle in fascination. “What does she run on?” he asked.
“Water and land,” grunted Captain Bontoc. “She’s just as happy either way.”
“That’s not what I meant—,” said Pa.
Granny Delphine interrupted him. “There’s no time for chitchat. Get yourselves checked in, or we’ll miss the tour altogether.”
They queued up outside the booth. It seemed a strange start to a holiday, but Granny Delphine was not in a mood for argument, and it was a foolish person who would try. From the end of the queue Bea stood on tiptoe to see in through the window. There was a desk inside the booth, and behind it a back door fitted with a turnstile. A man with cropped gray hair like a scrubbing brush sat behind the desk. He was examining a complicated chart that was spread out in front of him, and he glanced up as Pa squeezed in through the door.
“Name?” said the man.
“Herbie Flint,” said Pa. “Bald Mountain to my friends.”
The man wrote something on his chart. He did not seem too concerned with what Pa’s friends might call him. “Through the turnstile and board the bus, please,” he said without looking up again. “Next!”
“Mrs. Delphine Walker,” said Granny Delphine, and marched through the turnstile without waiting to be told.
One by one they entered the booth, and the brush-haired man gave each of them a brief but searching look before making notes on the chart and sending them through the turnstile. He seemed to want to get through them as quickly as possible, but when Clockwork Gabby ticked into the booth he straightened up and looked at her wordlessly for a moment.
“Your name?” he said eventually.
“It’s Gabby,” called Bea through the door.
The man bent over his chart and made a number of notations. “Surname?” he said.
“Clockwork,” said Theo, who stood behind Gabby. He was clutching his backpack to his chest, and his hair stood up on one side where he had fallen asleep against Ma’s arm in the van.
“No, it’s not,” said Bea to the man. “She lives with us. You can just put Flint.”
Bea stepped into the booth and looked curiously at the chart that was spread out on the desk. It seemed to be based on the solar system, but the planets and their moons were overlaid with such a complex network of lines, trajectories, notes and symbols that it was hard to imagine how any sense could be made of it. It was weighted down at one corner by a thick glass jar with a screw top. The pencil with which the man was making notes on the chart was sharpened to a pinpoint, and his writing was microscopic.
“Name?” said the man, looking up.
“Bea Flint,” said Bea. She craned her neck to try to see what he was writing. “That’s an interesting map,” she said.
The man found a tiny space on the chart and filled it in with his pinpoint pencil.
“Are we going to another planet?” asked Bea.
The brush-haired man looked up and smiled. “In a bus?” he said. “I hardly think so.”
“It’s not exactly a normal bus,” said Bea.
“It’s amphibious,” said the man, “but I’ve never known it to fly.” He glanced out through the window of the booth. A fat yellow moon hung in the night sky. It seemed to be fringed on one side with a hint of blue. “Your bus is about to leave,” he said. “You’d better hurry.”
Captain Bontoc bustled in, dusting his hands. “All bags loaded,” he said. “Is she the last?”
“She’s the last,” said the brush-haired man.
The captain placed his hand on Bea’s back and propelled her gently but firmly through the turnstile. She found herself facing the open hatch in the side of the Blue Moon Mobile, and she took a deep breath and climbed aboard. As she did so she heard the brush-haired man speak to the captain. “Good luck,” he said; then a moment later she heard him call out something that sounded like, “You’re forgetting the Squeak Jar, Bontoc.”
The inside of the Blue Moon Mobile was as haphazard as the outside. The captain’s seat was a barber’s swivel chair, and the passenger seats seemed to have been salvaged from at least three different vehicles. At the back of the busmarine there was a large contraption of red and chrome with a sign on it saying, ICE CREAM. Theo was rattling the handle of the ice-cream machine. “It’s not working,” he said to Bea. “I pressed the button lots of times, and I pulled the lever. The machine just said, ‘Ouch,’ but no ice cream came out.”
“Machines can’t talk. Not ice-cream machines, anyway.”
“This one did,” said Theo.
Captain Bontoc climbed into the driver’s chair, and the hatches closed with a thump and a hiss. He placed the glass jar from the booth on the dashboard and unscrewed the lid; then he swiveled quickly to face the passengers. “Take your seats, please, ladies and gents,” he bellowed. “Remain seated while the Blue Moon Mobile is in motion, and use the belts provided. No eating, drinking or smoking, and”—he paused as he surveyed the passengers—“definitely no sleeping.”
Theo sat down in the backseat and folded his arms. Bea helped him with his seat belt before sliding in past Phoebe on the bench in front of him. The captain spun his chair back to face the controls and started the engine. It made a sound like a dozen fat motorcycles in convoy, which brought a smile to Pa’s face. The Blue Moon Mobile pulled out of its parking bay, but instead of turning toward the dockside it swung around and crawled slowly into the car wash. Captain Bontoc began to crank energetically a handle that protruded from the side of his chair, and the sights of a periscope descended slowly from the ceiling above him. At the same time Bea felt a grinding motion beneath her feet, and she looked out of the window to see a broad fin extending from the hull below her. It seemed like a lot of preparation just to go through a car wash.
The captain honked the horn twice, and the car wash jerked to life. The massive brushes advan
ced toward them like columns of spinning seaweed, spattering the windshield with foam.
“If you look at the sky to your right,” shouted Captain Bontoc, “you’ll observe something you don’t see very often.” He gestured toward the busmarine windows without taking his eyes off the approaching brushes.
Phoebe leaned out across the aisle to get a better look. “The moon is blue!” she said.
“So it is,” said Ma. “Look at that, Theo!” she called over her shoulder.
Theo said nothing.
He’s sulking about the ice-cream machine, thought Bea.
Within seconds the view was obscured by the car wash, which enveloped the Blue Moon Mobile like a shaggy storm. It was the roughest car wash that anyone on board could remember. The huge brushes roared against the busmarine’s skin, and water surged around them until it felt as though they were totally submerged. Clockwork Gabby gripped the seat in front until her knuckles went white, and Granny Delphine laid her hand gently on Gabby’s wrist. Excitement shone in Phoebe’s eyes, and she fumbled with the buckle on her seat belt until she was stopped by a roar from Captain Bontoc.
“Leave it be, missy!” he bellowed, without looking around. He was wrestling with the enormous steering wheel now, his face pressed to the eyepiece of the periscope. There was a plunging sensation, and the Blue Moon Mobile was unmistakably underwater. The brushes looked more like weeds with every passing second, and they thrashed about in the murky water like trees in a storm.
“I don’t like this,” said Ma, and Bald Mountain put his huge tattooed arm around her.
“Hold on tight!” shouted Captain Bontoc. The Blue Moon Mobile tilted sharply to starboard before righting itself. Bubbles swirled around them, and suddenly Bea spotted the strangest thing of all. Ahead of them there was another busmarine in the seething water. It appeared to be heading straight toward them, pushing through the weeds at full speed. The lights were on inside, and as it approached she could see that it was empty except for its captain, a jug-eared man with a walrus mustache. He was dressed in the same uniform as Captain Bontoc, and he raised his peaked cap in salute.
Captain Bontoc took his eyes from the periscope for a moment. He raised his own cap briefly to his opposite number before grabbing the wildly spinning steering wheel and returning his attention to the periscope. The other busmarine was so close now that Bea was sure their fins would scrape together. There was a loud and rather unexpected sound, a sort of ssssnup!, like an inside-out pop. Something about it made her distinctly uneasy. It was not the kind of sound she thought an underwater collision would make, but she held her breath anyway and hoped there would be no damage.
In the driver’s seat Captain Bontoc reached out and, without taking his eyes from the periscope, clapped the lid onto the Squeak Jar and screwed it tight.
“Did you see that?” said Phoebe, her mouth open in astonishment as she stared after the retreating vehicle. Bea just nodded.
“Where exactly are we?” demanded Ma in a loud voice.
“We’re almost there, ma’am,” answered the captain.
Sure enough, the water around them was getting calmer, and there was a series of thumps as the wheels made contact with solid ground. The Blue Moon Mobile began to climb a bumpy slope, and before long they emerged from the water, which streamed from the windows to reveal a landscape quite unlike the grimy warehouses of the canal docks. To their right a tangled forest spread out into the distance, and beyond it they could see tall mountains like the ones in the brochure, lit by a moon as blue as a jay.
The Blue Moon Mobile rumbled to a halt and Captain Bontoc killed the engine. Inside the busmarine there was silence as everyone tried to take in what had just happened. Ma removed Pa’s arm gently from around her shoulders, and the color returned to Gabby’s knuckles. Phoebe unbuckled her seat belt and hurled herself into the empty seat opposite, pressing her face against the window. Bea stared out at the forest that began a stone’s throw from the busmarine, and for once even Granny Delphine seemed lost for words.
“How about that!” said Pa. He ran his hand over his shiny scalp and turned around with a grin. “What did you think of that, Theo?”
There was no answer from the backseat. Bea scrambled to her knees and looked over the back of her bench. There was no sign of Theo at all. On the seat where he had been sitting there was nothing but an army backpack and a slowly disappearing dent in the upholstery beneath a still-fastened seat belt.
Bea’s eyes opened wide, and her insides turned to cold jelly. She remembered the sucking pop she had heard as they passed the other Blue Moon Mobile in the turbulent water. Too late she realized that it had come from directly behind her, right where Theo had been. She got down quickly from her seat and looked under the benches. All she could see was candy wrappers, fluff and a grit-caked lollipop, but no Theo.
“What’s the matter?” came Ma’s voice from the front of the busmarine.
Bea stood up slowly and turned to face her. She did not want to meet her mother’s eye. She opened her mouth, but it was a struggle to get the words out.
“It’s Theo,” she said. “He’s gone.”
Listening
Through the moonlit forest crept a blank-faced boy named Ike Ledbetter. He was twelve years old, or maybe fourteen, or nine. He had never been able to grasp numbers, which buzzed around his head and refused to settle long enough to make sense. At the first sign of the moon changing he had been sent to Cambio Falls to spy on the new arrivals. He slipped barefoot through the woods. The soles of his feet were leathery and hard. When he walked on stone floors it sounded as if he were wearing shoes, but among the trees he was the quietest of a stealthy clan.
Well before he reached the waterfall he knew that something was amiss. The birds were passing alarms to one another when they should have been settling down for the night, and he could hear tiny shouts carried on the breeze. “Ee-oh,” he heard, repeated in several voices, some high and some low. As he got closer the word turned into Theo. He wondered who Theo could be, and why he was being summoned so urgently. How many things could there be that wouldn’t wait until tomorrow? None of the voices he could hear was familiar to him, and his curiosity drew him closer to the sound.
When he reached the edge of the trees he stopped behind a trunk to size up the situation. Bontoc was back, as expected, and he had a new busload of strangers with him. There was always a certain amount of shouting and upset when strangers arrived, and Bontoc was well used to it, but Ike saw that it was different this time. The captain would usually be leading the way along the path to Bell Hoot by now, but instead he was sitting on a mossy rock by the falls, scratching his head in a puzzled fashion. A thin lady was shouting at him, her arms waving about like spider’s legs and her face just inches from his. She had drawings on her skin.
“That’s not good enough!” she was yelling. “You brought us here. You must know where he could be. He can’t have just vanished!”
There was an enormous splash from the pool. Someone had jumped in, but Ike did not see who it was. It sounded like a water buffalo. A skinny girl followed the first splash, leaping into the water as though there were no oilsnakes or slimfish to worry about. There were more people still on the Blue Moon Mobile, pulling up the seat cushions and tossing suitcases out onto the grassy bank, and still shouting for Theo. Evidently Theo was lost. But how could you lose someone on the Blue Moon Mobile?
An old lady appeared suddenly beside Ike, giving him the fright of his life. It’s not easy to sneak up on someone who’s an expert at sneaking up on people, and since Ike was just such an expert he was not used to being caught in this way. The old lady had big round eyes like a nightbird’s, and she grabbed his wrist with a strong grip. Her expression was determined.
“Where do children go,” she said in an urgent whisper, “who are lost in the crossing?”
Ike Ledbetter shook his head. “I never heard of it happening before, ma’am,” he said. “It’s just the cats and frogs and par
akeets that disappear, usually.”
The old lady’s grip loosened. She looked beaten for a moment; then she pulled herself together. “What’s your name?” she asked, fixing him with a keen eye.
Ike was taken aback. He was supposed to be finding out about the new people, not the other way around. Still, he could not think of a tricky answer in time, and the truth came out instead. Some of it, anyway. “Ike, ma’am,” he said. “Just Ike.”
“Well, Just Ike,” said the old lady, “if you see a small boy on your travels, bring him to Captain Bontoc. Don’t let him out of your sight. You know Captain Bontoc, I presume?”
Ike nodded. He felt pretty sure he’d be in deep trouble if he did what the lady asked, but it didn’t seem a good thing to mention that now. “Okay,” he said, and since the conversation seemed to be at an end, he turned and disappeared swiftly among the trees.
On board the Blue Moon Mobile, Bea Flint was standing on her tiptoes on the bench where Theo had last been seen. She could just see over the metal lip of the overhead luggage rack. There was no Theo there, either, just a thick layer of dust that made her sneeze so hard she almost fell backward off the seat. Outside the busmarine Ma was still shouting at the bewildered Captain Bontoc.
“Then bring us back through!” she yelled. “He must have gotten off the bus before…before we went into that thing!”
“We can’t go back through,” said Bontoc. He gestured at the pale blue moon as though that explained everything. “It’s too late.”
“Now then,” came Granny Delphine’s stern voice, “it seems that Theo is not on the bus and not in the water. Where else could he be?”
Bontoc would not meet Granny Delphine’s eye. “Disappeared,” he said. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Must have had a pet hidden. Him or one of the other kids, but up till now it’s always been the animal that goes pop. Never the child.” He looked up suddenly. “He wasn’t asleep, was he?”
