by Will Taylor
“Hey!” said my mom as Kelly shoved her feet into a pair of hospital slippers and pattered over to the fort. Abby whooped. I shook my head. This little girl had some serious nerve, and if she felt well enough to decide she was going to come along, I wasn’t going to stop her.
“Head through the link, Kelly,” I called as she disappeared into the entrance. “Then take the second pillow to the right and straight on to Alaska.”
“Stop it!” said my mom, crossing to the fort. “Kelly, come out of there, sweetie. You can play in your fort later.”
There was no reply.
“She’s not in there anymore,” said Abby. “We told you—she’s on her way to Alaska.”
“I said stop it! This is absolutely not a game, girls!” My mom looked more upset than I’d ever seen her. She ducked inside the fort.
“Get the door!” hissed Abby, following my mom. I bolted for the door and locked it, turning off the lights for good measure, and scrambled after them just as my mom cried out.
“Holy— What?! What is this?”
“Hey, keep it moving, Ms. H,” said Abby, bumping into her from behind. “Just follow the open links.”
We crowded into Fort McForterson just in time to hear Kelly say, “Whee!” as she tumbled through the pillow to Uncle Joe’s. My mom stopped dead and stared around openmouthed.
“But this is your—our— We’re in—”
“Yes, yes,” I said. “It’s the fort in our living room, but right now we’re heading to Uncle Joe’s place up in Alaska. He needs our help.”
“Joe . . . ?”
“Joe, your little brother, yes. Oh come on, Mom!”
Coaxing and tugging, we finally got my mom through the forts, past the stomach-churning link, and out into Uncle Joe’s cabin, where Kelly was running out the front door in her bathrobe and slippers.
“Kelly, wait! You’ll freeze!” I called.
“I’m on it!” said Abby, pulling a pair of jackets from the closet and running after her. I turned to my mom. Her eyes were spinning between the fort and the cabin and the windswept tundra outside. She looked completely bewildered. I grabbed her shoulders with both hands and prepared to take control of the situation.
“Mom,” I said, “I know this is confusing, but take a deep, slow breath, remember? I need you to listen to me.”
We both looked around as heavy feet thudded up the front steps, and Matt came tromping in.
“About time!” he said. “It stopped raining, but he’s still out cold.”
“Wha—? What are you doing here?” said my mom.
“The same as you, Ms. H. Rescue mission.”
“But, but . . . ,” my mom sputtered.
“Mom!” I was worried I would have to slap her face, but her eyes locked onto me like I was holding out a lifeline. “Mom, we’re in Uncle Joe’s cabin in Alaska. I found him out on the shore a little while ago, unconscious and hurt. He needs your help.”
Her eyes were scanning side to side as I spoke.
“Joe . . . what? But how—?”
“There’s no time to explain, but my friends and I can travel between our pillow forts and that’s how we got here, and this is an emergency, so follow me!”
I pulled her to the door, Matt right behind us. She gasped as the cold air hit her and stopped, staring out at the arctic sky and waves and shore. I was already running down the steps.
“Straight ahead!” I called over my shoulder. And then my mom saw them: Abby, Mark, and Kelly gathered around the crumpled heap that was Uncle Joe. She gave a cry, and before I could take another two steps she was sprinting past me, a blur in her purple hospital scrubs, tearing across the rain-slicked rocks to rescue her little brother.
Twenty-One
“Have you moved him at all?” my mom asked, crouching down beside Uncle Joe and pressing a hand to his face.
“No,” said Mark as Matt and I jogged up. “We thought that wouldn’t be safe.”
My mom ran her hands gingerly along Uncle Joe’s twisted leg, then exhaled hard and turned to us, her face pale but relieved.
“You did the right thing; it’s a nasty break. The good news is that otherwise he doesn’t seem to be in danger.”
Abby spun and flung her arms around me. Matt and Mark gave a cheer. I squeezed Abby back and exhaled hard into the sky as the cloud of worry and anxiety that had been hovering over us lifted.
My mom climbed to her feet. “Okay, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “Here’s what we’re doing: our number one priority is to get Joe warm, so we need to carry him inside. Gather around and we’ll lift him together. I’ll keep his leg stable until we can get a splint on it.”
Everybody helped, and with a good amount of slipping and straining we managed to haul Uncle Joe back into the cabin and onto the bed. My mom carefully positioned his leg, then clapped her hands again and gave us all chores: Kelly and Abby went to gather up all the blankets and warm things they could find; Matt and Mark rooted through the cupboards looking for medical supplies; and I boiled water on the stove and make six giant mugs of hot cocoa.
And even though it was still technically an emergency, it was also pretty fun, with all of us crammed together in the tiny cabin gulping cocoa, digging through drawers and boxes for useful supplies, and shouting when we found them. Abby found a local map under a heavy book on whale anatomy, Kelly discovered a stash of extra blankets at the back of the closet, and Matt pulled a pair of ski poles out from under the bed that my mom decided would be perfect for splints.
Amid all the searching someone bumped the electronic clutter on the desk, and after a few sputtering crackles the same weird, heavy, soupy, staticy noise I’d heard before began churning into the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the speaker.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the underwater microphone,” I told them.
“It’s incredible,” whispered Matt. Mark nodded.
“Where are the whales, though?” asked Kelly. No one answered, and we listened in silence to the gurgling, glooping thunder of the deep, dark water out in the bay.
There was a groan from the bed, and the spell was broken.
“He’s waking up!”
We all crowded around as Uncle Joe opened his eyes. He looked from one face to another, blinking in the light.
“Joe,” said my mom, “Joe, it’s me, Karen. You had a bad fall. You’ve got a broken leg and probably a concussion.”
“Hey, Sis,” said Uncle Joe faintly. “Nice to see you, too.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked, leaning over him.
“Hurt,” said Uncle Joe. “Who are you?”
I looked at my mom in alarm.
“I’m Maggie, your niece. . . .”
“Not you, Maggie, you.” He nodded, then grimaced. “Ouch, guess I shouldn’t do that.”
I looked over my shoulder. Kelly and the twins were standing behind me.
“Oh, these are friends of ours,” I said. “This is Kelly. She’s—”
But Uncle Joe’s face spasmed, and he gritted his teeth around another groan.
“The shock’s wearing off,” said my mom, laying a hand on his forehead. “He’s starting to feel that broken leg. Okay, Joe, we’re going to get you to the hospital.”
“Which—hospital?”
“Mine,” said my mom. “Through the pillow forts.”
It was incredibly bizarre hearing my mom say those words, but everyone took it in stride. Everyone, that it, except Uncle Joe, who shook his head again.
“Ouch!” he said. “La-la! Don’t tell—me—anything! And can’t leave Alaska—lose grant. Have to stay—send reports—be ready—record whale.”
“Joe, that’s enough,” said my mom. “We’re taking you to the hospital and that’s that. You’re in no position to argue.”
“Your mom sounds just like you,” Abby whispered, nudging me.
Uncle Joe frowned and opened his mouth, clearly ready to put up a fight, then grimaced again and shut it. He was trembling
.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” asked Kelly. He gave a tiny nod. She patted his arm. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh! Dr. Hetzger!”
“Yes, Kelly?”
“Why don’t we get Joe some emergency pain medicine, like you keep in my room? I can run and get it for him.”
“It’s kind of you to think of that,” said my mom. “But seeing as we’re taking him there in a minute anyway—”
“No!” said Uncle Joe. “Hospital—here. Town not—too far.”
“He wants to stay, Ms. H.,” said Matt.
“Stop. It’s not safe, kids.”
“But shouldn’t he get a say?” asked Abby. “He’s the one who’s injured.”
“We’d have a seriously hard time getting him through all those links while he’s like this, anyway,” Mark pointed out.
My mom bit her lip, considering.
Kelly tugged at her sleeve. “I think he’s really hurting, Dr. Hetzger.”
My mom gave in. “Fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “We’ll take Joe to this town hospital. But I’ll go get the pain medicine from mine.”
“Do you want help getting back there?” I asked. The last thing we needed was my mom getting lost in the network.
“I remember. I’ll just follow the open links like you said.” She disappeared into the fort, and we waited for an anxious minute before she returned. “Here,” she said, holding out a small plastic bottle. “I’m not happy about this, but these will help Joe for now.”
“Thank—goodness,” said Uncle Joe. I ran to get a glass of water.
“Great idea, Kelly,” said Abby as I helped Uncle Joe with the medicine. “Now, how exactly are we going to get Joe to his hospital?”
“Why don’t we take this truck out back?” called Mark, pointing out the kitchen window. “Does it run okay, Joe?”
Uncle Joe, breathing shallowly, gave a thumbs-up.
“Cool, looks like we’ve got a plan, then,” said Matt. “I can drive. Is everybody— Whoa!”
He cut off as the entrance flap of Fort Orpheus billowed dramatically and Samson appeared, purring like a freight train at the sight of everyone, Creepy Frog dangling from his snagglepaw.
“Samson!” cried Abby. “The legend continues.”
“Well, the gang’s all here now,” said Mark.
“So that’s Samson,” Kelly said, kneeling down to pet him. Samson rubbed her fingers with his cheek.
“Where did that cat come from?” asked my mom. “And what on earth is that thing he’s dragging?”
“He’s my cat,” said Abby, freeing him from the stuffed animal. “He likes to wander through our network. And this is Creepy Frog.”
“It certainly is,” said my mom. “And Samson is very handsome, but we can’t afford to get distracted right now.”
But it was too late for that, as Abby chucked Creepy Frog at me, Samson got caught on Kelly’s bathrobe, Matt and Mark started arguing over who was going to drive the truck, and I missed Creepy Frog and knocked over my cocoa.
Eventually we all settled down, but the plan hit a new snag as my mom tried to decide who was going to help deliver Uncle Joe to the hospital.
Obviously, everyone wanted to go.
“Absolutely not!” said my mom, shaking her head over and over. “I am not taking you all on a nighttime joyride across the Alaskan tundra. It would be wildly irresponsible of me, both as a parent and a doctor.”
“But we can’t just go home,” I said. “Not after everything we’ve done!”
“Oh, yes, you can,” she retorted. “And as the only uninjured adult here, I’m ordering you and Abby back home immediately and Kelly back to the hospital. Matt and Mark,” she said, speaking over our objections, “will ride in the bed of the truck and look after Joe while I drive.”
“Sure, Ms. H.,” said Matt. “But how are you going to know where to go? It’s not safe to read a map and drive at the same time.”
“I’ll manage,” said my mom. “Joe won’t fit up front with his splint, and I need two people in the back to stop him from rolling around.”
“Maggie and I can do that,” said Abby, her hand in the air. “We can keep him steady. That way the twins can ride up front with you and read the map, and if anything goes wrong in back I can handle it because I learned all about first aid and stuff at Camp Cantaloupe.”
My mom wasn’t convinced.
“Kids, this is a very, very important thing we’re about to do. Joe needs serious medical attention, and I’d be better able to help him if I knew you were all safely at home.”
“We can do it, Ms. H.,” said Abby. “We want to help. Just give us a chance. Please.”
My mom stared at her for a long moment, then sighed.
“Fine,” she said. “But only because this is a real emergency.”
“What about me?” asked Kelly.
I nodded. “Kelly has to come too.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said my mom, raising her hands. “Who’s the parent here?” Uncle Joe, who’d been keeping quiet, chuckled. “Kelly, no, you are absolutely not coming; it’s just not safe. What if you caught a cold or developed a cough?”
“But I’ll be with you,” said Kelly. “What’s safer than being with my doctor?”
“Being back in the hospital where you belong!” said my mom. She was turning red. “Okay, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m canceling this whole wild circus. Joe, you’re coming back to my hospital with Kelly and me. The rest of you are going to help us carry Joe through the pillow forts, then get yourselves home and stay there. No argument, no discussion.”
We’d only just started arguing and discussing when Uncle Joe sat halfway up and shouted, “Hey! Everybody quiet!”
In the ringing silence that followed, a long, sweet, ghostly noise filled the cabin, rising and falling like a bird on the air. It was coming from the underwater speaker. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“What is that?” whispered the twins.
“Whale song,” said Uncle Joe, his eyes wide. “It’s Orpheus. He’s here! You!” He pointed to Mark. “Hit Record on the receiver! Quick!”
Mark scrambled over to the table and pressed a button on the ancient machine. Uncle Joe let out a breath and lay back.
“Oh, wow, finally! You have no idea how cool— Might be the first people to ever hear this.”
The song coiled around us, eerie and beautiful. I turned to look out the window, shivering at the thought of that huge, warm body slipping through the icy water just offshore.
“Orpheus . . . ,” said Uncle Joe. “You’re not alone, buddy.” He looked like he might cry. He turned to my mom. “That settles it. I’m not going back to Seattle. I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”
My mom gazed around at our circle of rebellious faces. Samson hopped off the desk and crossed the room to sit daintily at Kelly’s feet.
My mom sighed. “I suppose he’s coming too, is he?” she said.
Samson purred.
Twenty-Two
It took another full half hour to gather ourselves together and actually get on the road.
The main problem was Uncle Joe, who flatly refused to leave while Orpheus was singing unless we could find some way to bring the radio. It was becoming a real argument when the twins found a set of official-looking walkie-talkies in the cutlery drawer in the kitchen.
“If we tape one handset down to TALK and set it near the speaker, you should be able to hear the radio for a few miles at least,” said Matt. Uncle Joe was thrilled.
Soon the cocoa cups were piled in the sink, the back of the truck was toweled dry and loaded up with blankets, and we were carrying Uncle Joe awkwardly down the steps into the growing twilight. The wind was still going strong, roaring in off the bay and pushing the last of the clouds back to reveal a sky already twinkling with stars.
The twins settled Uncle Joe in the bed of the truck, and Kelly, Abby, Samson, and I piled in around him. My mom fussed over all of us, adjusting hats
and tucking in blankets, then got behind the wheel as Mark climbed into the passenger seat and opened the map.
Matt ran back to the cabin to lock up and turn off the lights, then hopped over the tailgate beside Kelly.
“Wait,” Abby said, jumping up from her seat beside me. “Here, take my spot.”
“There’s room on this side,” said Matt.
“No,” Abby insisted, stepping over Uncle Joe and cutting him off. “Not a chance, I want to sit next to Kelly and Samson. You sit next to Maggie.”
I could have died, she was being so obvious, but no one else seemed to notice. I was incredibly grateful for the cold wind giving me an excuse to be pink in the face as Matt settled into the nest of blankets beside me. He took up more room than Abby. Our knees were almost touching. Oh, cantaloupe.
“Well, this is pretty sweet,” Matt said, turning to me with a huge smile. “I get to ride with the lady in charge.”
I smiled back as best I could and flatly refused to catch Abby’s eye.
“Okay,” said my mom, sliding open the little window between the cab and the back of the truck. “All set back there?”
“Yes,” we chorused.
“I have to go to the bathroom!” called Uncle Joe. My mom groaned. “Ha, just kidding.”
Everyone laughed.
“Then if we’re ready to act like grown-ups, here we go,” said my mom. She turned the key, the engine roared to life, and we were off.
The icy arctic air whipped over us as the truck sped along, and I was instantly grateful for the mountain of coats and blankets my mom had insisted on bringing. Matt cinched the hood of his jacket tight and threw another blanket over our laps.
Abby leaned forward, patting Uncle Joe’s arm. “How you hanging in there?” she hollered over the wind.
Uncle Joe gave a thumbs-up, waving the walkie-talkie.
Kelly was riding with her head thrown back, gazing up at the dark sky and gleaming stars from her little cocoon of warmth. Her eyes shone. I could just see Samson and Creepy Frog snuggled in her lap. She spotted me watching and waved. I grinned and waved back.
Up in the cab I saw Mark shake out the map and say something to my mom. She laughed, her ponytail bouncing. She looked happier than I’d seen her in a long time, and I felt a sudden rush of affection for her. Somehow, she actually fit in on this adventure. She made it complete.
