by Asia Citro
DATA:
pH = 10, something bad is in our stream.
Tablet = some kind of soap is in our stream.
CONCLUSION:
Our stream is polluted.
Just then the doorbell rang. But not the regular doorbell. The magic one.
CHAPTER 5
MAGIC DOORBELL
Mom and I looked at each other and froze.
“Is that some kind of reminder alarm on your phone?” Dad asked my mom.
“Um, sort of,” Mom replied.
The doorbell meant that a magical creature needed our help. But my dad couldn’t see the creatures. To him, it looked like nothing was there. This was going to be a bit tricky.
I looked at my mom and raised my eyebrows.
“Zoey, I think I left something out in the barn?” My mom raised an eyebrow back at me.
“Oh, right, that thing,” I said. “Sassafras and I can get it for you.”
Sassafras and I dashed outside and through the barn to the back door. I opened it and looked around. My shoulders dropped. No one was there.
Then I looked way down. I jumped in surprise. There on the grass, standing on two legs like a person, was a shimmering purple frog covered head to toe in neon spots.
Could it be? Was this the talking frog my mom had told me stories about?
Sassafras pushed in front of me. He closed his eyes and gently bumped his head against the frog.
The frog reached out a tiny webbed hand and petted Sassafras on the nose. “Hello, old friend!”
Sassafras immediately began purring.
“Pip? Is that really you?” I squeaked.
The frog looked up at me. “You can see me . . . and you know my name? Who are you?”
Ever since I’d seen a picture of Pip in my mom’s office, I’d been dying to meet him. I burst out with everything all at once. “Hi, Pip! I’m Zoey. I think you were expecting my mom? But I can see you too. I’ve been helping my mom with the magical animals. Are you hurt? Is something wrong?”
“Oh my. Let’s see here. First, hi, Zoey. Nice to meet you. I was expecting your mom. But you will do.” Pip took a deep breath and got a serious look on his face. “The merhorses from our stream are in trouble. We don’t know what’s wrong.”
Pip began talking faster and faster. “Their skin and eyes hurt, and they can’t find any of their food. They usually eat mooflies, but they can’t find any.”
“Mayflies?”
“Right! They said they can’t find the marchflies under the water anymore.” He paused in thought for a moment and scratched his head. “Although I’m not sure what that means. I don’t know of any flies that live underwater.”
“Well, mayflies start their lives underwater as babies,” I said. “They have gills and stuff until they get way bigger. Then they actually fly.”
“Huh. Well, anyway, there’s something going on, because all the merflies are missing!”
“I noticed that the mayflies were missing when I was at the stream earlier,” I said. “Mom and I just finished running some tests on the stream water. I’ve got some bad news. It’s polluted.”
“Oh no,” said Pip, placing two tiny webbed hands on his cheeks. “I need to see your mother right away!”
Then Pip jumped onto my head!
“Ah, that’s much better. Humans are so useful. I can always see better from up here. What are you waiting for? Take me to her!”
I walked back to my house as quickly as I could manage with a frog on my head and a nervous cat winding through my legs. When I opened the front door, I wondered what would happen with my dad there. He couldn’t see anything magical. How would we talk to Pip? Maybe I should wait until later?
“Zoey?” called Mom from her office. “Did you, um, find the thing?”
Uh oh, too late to turn back now. They’d heard me come in. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I definitely found something.”
I turned the corner and my mom’s jaw dropped.
“Pip? Is that you?” she said.
“Did you teach Zoey your pretend frog game?” Dad asked. “In that case, I’ll take my own pretend frog to make a snack for us and leave you two to play with yours.” He held out his hand and looked at it. “Hello, Plop! It’s time for an afternoon snack. Would you like to come help me? Yes? Oh, thanks.” Dad leaned in closer to his empty hand. “Sure, Plop! We can make some dead fly sandwiches for you and your friend Pip.”
On my head, Pip spluttered in disgust. “I would never eat a dead insect. Disgusting!” Mom and I bit our lips to keep from laughing.
We had to work hard to hear Dad over Pip’s shouting. “Plop and I will be in the kitchen. Will you three . . . I mean four . . . join us soon?”
Mom cleared her throat. “Let us clean up in here first. Then we’ll come join you.”
Dad nodded and left, carefully carrying his handful of air.
My mom turned back to Pip, who had hopped down to her desk. He was standing there with his arms crossed.
“Ugh.” He sighed. “I thought he’d never leave. And really, Plop? What kind of a name is that?”
“I’m so glad to see you, Pip.” Mom kissed him gently on the head.
“I’m glad to see you too,” Pip said. “But we need to get to work.”
Mom frowned. “I was hoping you came to visit. Is something wrong in the forest?”
Pip flailed his arms around. “It’s the merhorses. They have red spots all over their skin and scales. They’re having trouble breathing and their eyes hurt. They can’t find enough food. And Zoey says the stream is polluted?”
Mom clapped a hand to her mouth. “Of course, the other creatures in the stream must be suffering, including the magical ones. Those poor merhorses!”
Seeing my mom so upset made my stomach hurt a little. What were we going to do?
CHAPTER 6
THE MERHORSES
Mom and I hurried through the snack that Dad and “Plop” had made. Pip sat on my head. He kept fidgeting, which was very distracting.
“I think Zoey and I are going to head back to the stream,” said Mom. “I’d like to see if we can find the source of the pollution.”
“Absolutely,” Dad said. “I’ll come with you guys. Three pairs of eyes are better than two, right?”
Mom and I exchanged worried looks. Pip wanted to take us to the merhorses so we could talk to them. How could we do that with my dad there? It would look like we were talking to air again. After our conversation with Pip earlier, it might be too much for Dad.
Mom’s eyes lit up. “That would be great! Why don’t you and I go upstream, and Zoey can go downstream. We’ll meet again at the middle?”
We all agreed on Mom’s plan and went back to the stream. Unlike my usual trips to the stream, this time I had a frog sitting cross-legged on my head.
The trail ended at the stream, and I stopped to take my shoes and socks off and roll up my pants. My parents walked upstream.
“The merhorses live over there. Let’s go!” Pip said as he wiggled nervously.
I plucked him off my head. “Hey!” he pouted.
“I can’t see where you’re pointing,” I whispered. “Here, ride on my shoulder instead.”
“The merhorses live over there,” he repeated. This time, I could see him point toward the other side of the stream from where I had been looking for bugs this morning. Wait a minute. Wasn’t that where I had seen that mysterious rainbow light earlier? Maybe I hadn’t been imagining it after all!
I gave Sassafras a quick pet, and then carefully crossed the stream with Pip on my shoulder.
“We need to get over there to that log,” Pip directed me. “You can sit on the shore there, and I’ll dive down to get the merhorses.”
“Get them from where?” I asked.
“From their rainbow cave, of course,” replied Pip.
“Rainbow cave?” I breathed.
“Oh, right!” Pip clapped a webbed hand to his head. “You’ve never even seen a merhorse. Y
es, they live deep down in the stream in hidden caves they built with rainbow stones.”
“Wait a minute, are you telling me there are rainbow stones in our stream?” My heart beat a little faster at the thought.
“Well, yes and no,” Pip said. “They aren’t just lying around, if that’s what you’re thinking. When a merhorse finds a stone that’s the right size and shape, it carries it back to the cave in its mouth. Then the merhorse uses magic to enchant the stone to shimmer in all the colors of the rainbow.”
“Their caves sound amazing,” I said dreamily. “That must be why they’re hidden. I bet if the caves were near the top of the water, animals like raccoons could find them easily with that rainbow light shining out.”
“Indeed,” said Pip. “You’re pretty smart for a human. You remind me a lot of your mother when she was your age. Ah, here we are. This log right here is the one we’re looking for.”
I knelt on the sandy shore. Pip hopped off my shoulder and jumped in with a sploosh. I got down on my hands and put my face right by the water. He disappeared under the log, but if I held my head in the right place, I could make out some rays of rainbow light shimmering deep below. I wished I had brought my underwater viewer. Next time, I promised myself.
Pip swam back into view. And something was following right behind him.
CHAPTER 7
PLEASE HELP!
The thing behind Pip was small, and the front half looked exactly like a miniature horse with light gray fur. Its white mane waved gently as two tiny hooves paddled through the water. Right around where its belly button would’ve been, it turned from a horse into a fish. The bottom part of its body was covered in dark green scales, and its powerful fishlike tail moved up and down as it swam. Its colors blended in with most things in the stream, so I doubted I would’ve spotted one on my own.
I put both hands in the water and watched in awe as it swam gracefully toward me. Pip climbed out of the water and sat on my wrist, while the merhorse glided into the palms of my hands. I started to lift it out of the water to take a closer look.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Pip yelped in alarm. “The merhorse needs to be underwater to breathe!”
“Oh!” I immediately lowered my hands. Now that they were back in the water, I could see flaps hidden by the horse fur on the merhorse’s neck. They opened and closed over and over again. The merhorse had gills. Of course!
I leaned closer to it and said, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you had gills. I’ll keep you in the water.”
The merhorse moved its mouth as though it were talking, but all I heard were some very strange, quiet sounds. I looked to Pip for help.
“Ah, yes. You don’t speak merhorse. I’ll translate.”
Pip ran his hands down his purple skin and brushed off the rest of the water. He cleared his throat and began: “He said, ‘Dear human girl, thank you for coming to help me and my fellow merhorses. We fear something is very wrong with our stream.’”
The merhorse continued talking. I turned to Pip.
Pip translated, “‘Many days ago, we all felt our fur and scales burning and itching. Our eyes stung. It was hard to breathe. This horrible feeling continued the next day, and a few days later we had trouble finding mayflies to eat. After a while, the stinging in our eyes seemed to get better, but this morning it began once more.’”
Hmmm. I couldn’t be positive yet, but from what the merhorse was saying, it seemed like the pollution was worse on the weekends. That could be a clue!
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, leaning down toward the merhorse. “I also can’t find any mayfly nymphs in the stream. My parents and I ran some tests on the stream water, and we think someone might be dumping soap into the stream.”
The merhorse spoke again. Pip held a hand to his mouth and gasped.
My stomach tightened. “What is it, Pip?”
Pip looked up at me with sad eyes. “He said, ‘Can you find who it is? Can you get them to stop, please? I fear if things do not improve, we may starve. I do not know how many more days we can last here.’”
My heart dropped. We couldn’t lose the merhorses too! “We’ll find a way to fix the stream water. We have to. I’ll be back soon to let you know what we figure out.”
We had to save the merhorses. And quickly!
CHAPTER 8
SASSAFRAS?
I waded back to the opposite side of the stream with Pip once again on my shoulder.
He hopped down when we got to shore. “I’m really worried about those poor merhorses, Zoey. They’re so hungry! I don’t think I can find any mooflies, but someone in the forest might have something they can eat. I’ll check back with you later?”
I gave a big sigh of relief. “That is a wonderful idea, Pip. They definitely need to eat. You work on that, and I’ll try to figure out where the pollution is coming from.”
Pip hopped into the forest. I opened my journal and added everything I’d just learned.
QUESTION:
Where is the stream pollution coming from?
OBSERVATIONS:
Seems like soap is being dumped on weekends?
pollution started about a week ago.
I looked up to see my mom and dad coming toward me, but I didn’t see Sassafras anywhere. He was probably hiding up in a tree again, freaked out that a drop of stream water might get on him.
“Sassafras?” I called. “Sassafras!”
Where was that cat?
My mom and dad joined me. “Sassafras,” we all hollered.
Finally we heard a faraway “Meeoooooow!”
“What is Sassafras doing way down there?” I asked. We headed toward the distant meowing.
Every few feet we stopped and called “Sassafras!” And each time the meow got louder. We rounded a bend in the stream and found him balancing on a log. His tail was all fluffed up and he was growling at some white foam caught behind a log.
Wait . . . foam! Soap!
“Sassafras!” I said. “You found the soap!”
I ran over to pet him, and I noticed a pipe above his head.
“Mom! Dad! What is this weird pipe? It must be where the soap is coming from.”
Mom bent down, swiped some of the soap foam, and sniffed it.
“Um, Mom? Why are you smelling it?”
Mom laughed. “That must look strange! I was checking to make sure that it wasn’t natural foam. Sometimes when leaves and other bits of the forest break down, they can make bubbles that look similar to soap bubbles. But there’s no mistaking the smell of store-bought soap. Here, see what I mean?”
Mom put her foam-covered hand out to me, and I sniffed. It smelled sort of like dish soap. Definitely not at all like a forest or leaves or stream water.
“I still don’t get it,” I said peering into the pipe. “What is this pipe? Where is this water coming from?”
“It’s stormwater,” Mom and Dad said at the same time.
I looked at them, completely confused. Stormwater? It wasn’t raining. And I was pretty sure that water from storms came from the sky and the clouds, and not from pipes in the ground.
“When it rains, what happens to the rain here in the forest?” Mom asked.
“It goes into the ground and makes mud and stuff?” I answered.
“Exactly,” said Mom. “Now, what happens when it rains on sidewalks and roads?”
“Hmmm.” I thought. “It makes puddles? And it makes little rivers in the gutters?”
“Right, and where do those little rivers in the gutters go?” asked Mom.
I thought and thought, but I wasn’t sure. I mean, the water must go somewhere. I needed my Thinking Goggles! I squinched my eyes tight, pretended my Thinking Goggles were on my head, and tried to think about little rivers of water in gutters. I stretched and reached for a distant memory in my mind. There it was! My friend Sophie and I had been waiting by the side of the road for our bus in the pouring rain. We’d broken some sticks into little pieces and dropped them
into the gutter river. The sticks zoomed along, and they went down into some sort of drain!
“Into a drain thingy!” I announced proudly.
“Yes, a storm drain,” Mom said. “If we didn’t have them, our roads and sidewalks would flood. Rain can’t soak into sidewalks and roads like it can into the forest dirt. So we collect all the extra water in gutters and it goes into a storm drain —”
“And then it comes out here? At the stream?” I interrupted.
“Yes. So anything that’s up there on the street can get gathered up by the rainwater and taken to a nearby stream or ocean. That’s why we have to be careful about what we do on our streets and sidewalks.”
I put my hands on my hips and looked up. “There’s just one problem. It’s not raining. So why is water coming out of this pipe? Is the water coming from a town far away where it’s raining or something?”
“Great observation.” My mom smiled. “No, it’s definitely coming from somewhere nearby. Let’s see if you can put this last piece of the puzzle together. What uses soap and water? A lot of it. Enough to fill a gutter with soapy water.”
I wrinkled my nose in thought. I imagined a gutter river of soapy water. Hmmm. To make that much soapy water you’d have to wash something big. Really big. Like a boat or a . . . car!
“A car wash!” I shouted. Sassafras flew backward off the log. Whoops. I didn’t mean to be quite that loud. But I was so excited. It had to be a car wash!
Mom and Dad nodded together, and I couldn’t stop smiling. We could definitely fix this. First, we needed to find the car wash. That couldn’t be too hard . . . Right?
CHAPTER 9
INTO TOWN
When we got home, we dropped off our things and our cat. Before we left on our hunt for a car wash, I quickly added some notes to my science journal.
OBSERVATION:
Soap is coming from the storm drain.
