Text copyright © 2018 by Anna Humphrey
Illustrations copyright © 2018 by Kass Reich
Tundra Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada Young Readers, a Penguin Random House Company
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher—or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency—is an infringement of the copyright law.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Humphrey, Anna, 1979–, author
Megabat / Anna Humphrey; [illustrations by] Kass Reich.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 9780735262577 (hardcover).—ISBN 9780735262584 (EPUB)
I. Reich, Kass, illustrator II. Title.
PS8615.U457M44 2018 jC813’.6 C2017-904328-5
C2017-904329-3
Published simultaneously in the United States of America by Tundra Books of Northern New York, an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada Young Readers, a Penguin Random House Company
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017945613
Edited by Samantha Swenson
eBook design adapted from printed book design by Andrew Roberts
The artwork in this book was rendered in graphite.
www.penguinrandomhouse.ca
v5.3.1
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1. No Buttermelons
2. The Bat
3. The Land of Papaya Premium
4. The Library
5. Megabat
6. The Casserole Dish of Doom
7. The Box
8. The Post Office
9. The Escape
10. Birdgirl
11. Travelling Bat
12. Bat School
13. The North Star
14. The Departure
15. The Return
16. The Recovery
17. A Nest for Two
A Little Bit about Bats
A Mega List of Thanking Yourses
About the Authors
For my neighbors.
You made Kitchener home.
NO BUTTERMELONS
Daniel Misumi hated his new house. He hated the vines that crept up the red brick and the way the peaks over the upstairs windows looked like angry eyebrows. He hated the creaky floors and the weird wallpaper…but most of all, he hated his new attic bedroom—especially when he discovered a ghostly creature was living there.
Daniel’s first clue about the creature was the mysterious puddle at the top of the stairs.
“Oof!” he said, landing on his bum. It was moving day, and he’d been carrying a box of Lego. Pieces crashed to the floor and skittered under the furniture like beetles afraid of the light.
Daniel stood up and examined his wet shorts. “Mom!” he called. “There’s a puddle on my floor!”
Daniel found his mom in the bathroom. She was busy unpacking her bottles of relaxing bubble bath. “Just what we need.” She sighed. “A leak in the roof on our first day.”
Daniel’s father was summoned. He made grim faces at the ceiling and said things like “Welllllll…” and “Let’s see…” but no hole or crack was discovered.
“Maybe it’s not water,” Daniel said as they mopped up the puddle. “It could be corrosive liquid leaking from a rusty pipe.” In such an old house, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
Daniel eyed the ceiling suspiciously, but his dad just said they’d deal with it later.
So Daniel tried to put the puddle out of his mind, but later that night, when he was drifting off to sleep.
“Gots buttermelons? Hmmm?”
His eyes shot open.
“Buttermelons? Nope? None?”
The voice was small and quivering, and if he hadn’t been so terrified, Daniel might have noticed how filled with sadness it was.
He pulled the blankets over his head. At first it seemed to work. The room stayed silent for a long time. So long that Daniel almost convinced himself he’d imagined the whole thing.
“Buttermelons? Peeze! None? Nooooooooo.”
The voice came again, even more quivery than before. Plus, now there was a strange flapping sound.
Daniel sat up, turned on the bedside light and raised his arms in a fierce karate move. He looked around the room.
There was nothing—just his furniture and unpacked boxes.
He kicked his covers off and backed toward the stairs. But—“Oof!” he slipped in the mystery puddle again. “Uh. Ah!” He tumbled backward down the stairs.
“Daniel!” his mother appeared in her pajamas. Her hair was sticking up in a million directions. “Are you okay?”
“There’s a ghost…in my room.” He scrambled toward the safety of his parents’ bed.
His dad sighed.
“I promise there’s no ghost,” his mother said. To prove it, she marched up the stairs. Daniel was expecting her to yell down, “See? Nothing here,” but instead—THUNK.
His dad ran up behind her.
“Daniel?” he called back. “Your mother slipped! Why’s the floor all wet?”
“I told you.” Daniel said. He climbed under his parents’ covers. “That puddle keeps appearing. I think this house is haunted. We need to leave.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” his dad said, coming back down. “We’ll call a roofer in the morning. For now, back to your own bed, mister. It’s one hundred percent ghost-free up there.”
So Daniel climbed the stairs. He lay awake with his ears and eyes wide open, but he didn’t hear the voice again—at least, not that night.
THE BAT
The next morning, Daniel got up at the first sign of light. He stepped around the puddle and ran down the stairs to safety.
His mother found him asleep on the couch an hour later. “Rise and shine.” She ruffled his hair. “We’ve got a lot of unpacking to do before school starts.”
Daniel grumbled. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was school. Back in Toronto, he’d had two best friends and a spot on the soccer team—but at his new school, he wouldn’t even know where the bathrooms were—let alone who to play with at recess. It was going to be horrible.
Daniel closed his eyes again, but moments later, something brushed his neck. The ghost! He leapt up, only to find his father holding a feather duster.
“Ticklish much?” he teased. “Can you clean the shelves in the dining room?” Daniel groaned, but he did what he was told.
As long as he didn’t have to go back to the attic, he’d do anything.
Daniel sorted spoons, he organized underwear, he unboxed baking pans…but it was no use.
“Honey,” his mom said, after lunch. “Why don’t you take your dessert up to your room and play?”
“That’s okay!” he said quickly. “I’ll alphabetize the spice rack!” But his mom insisted.
She put a plate in his hand. It had a delicious-looking piece of jelly roll on it. Daniel doubted he’d be able to enjoy it in his room, but he knew that if he mentioned the ghost again, his parents would say he was being silly. So he took the plate and went upstairs.
When he reached the main floor landing, Daniel edged the attic door open and paused. There was a very faint sound. Drip. Drip. Drip.
He tiptoed up a few steps.
“Doooooooooh. Mine is all alooooone.”
It was the voice again.
“Mine is got no bests and noooo friends.” The words were followed by the dripping noise, faster now. Dripdrip
dripdrip.
Daniel reminded himself to breathe. If there was something lurking in his bedroom, he was going to have to face it eventually. He forced his feet to keep climbing.
“Hello?” he called. “I know you’re there! So show yourself.” Daniel froze, listening—but everything was still. Even the dripping sound had stopped. “I won’t harm you,” he added.
Daniel walked around the puddle and into the middle of the room.
Sniff. Sniff.
The softest little breathing sounds were coming from somewhere in the ceiling beams. Daniel squinted into the dark space and saw it. At first, he thought it was a large mouse…only its eyes were much too big. Also, it was hanging upside down. Then the creature shifted, and he saw the ripple and sheen of its wings.
A bat!
THE LAND OF PAPAYA PREMIUM
Daniel had touched a garter snake once, and his best friend in Toronto had a gerbil named Gopher that he liked…but bats were different.
“Please don’t suck my blood,” he said, even though he didn’t really expect the bat to understand.
“Yours said what?” the voice answered.
“I said, please don’t suck my blood,” Daniel repeated, in the direction of the bat, just in case it was the bat talking.
“Blood? Yours is drinking blood? Dust-gusting!” spat the voice.
“No,” Daniel said. “I don’t drink blood. You do. If you’re a bat. Are you?”
“Undoubtedly.” The creature edged into the light. “A bat. But not a dust-gusting blood-sucking bat.”
Daniel was no bat expert, but something about the shape of the face made him guess it was a boy bat.
The bat sniffed again. He had a tiny pink heart-shaped nose, almost like a rabbit’s. Suddenly, his eyes went even wider than before.
“Yours gots red smoosh-fruit!” the bat exclaimed. He swooped. Daniel threw his arms over his head to protect himself and the plastic plate and jelly roll he’d been holding went flying.
The bat landed near the dessert. He sniffed again, then plunged his snout into the jelly, snorffling like a pig at a trough.
While the bat ate, Daniel got a closer look. He was tiny—smaller than a blue jay and only a little bigger than a butterfly. He had a furry body and large, leathery wings.
When the bat finished, he looked up and burped loudly.
“Scu-zzi,” he said politely, then he flapped back into the rafters and hung upside town, tilting his head.
There was a long, awkward silence while Daniel tried to figure out what a person was supposed to say to a talking bat. Finally, he decided on the obvious.
“I’m Daniel,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Yours is a Daniel?” the bat said, tilting his head to the other side.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “And you?”
“A bat,” he answered.
“Yeah, but what’s your name?” Daniel pressed.
“A bat,” the bat repeated.
“Okay.” Daniel shrugged. “I’ll call you Bat then.”
There was another long silence. Finally, the bat gave a small, annoyed sigh. “A Daniel gots more smoosh-fruit?” He tapped his tiny talon.
Daniel knew there was still half a jelly roll, but his mom wouldn’t give him more before dinner—especially not if he told her it was for a talking bat.
“I can get more later,” Daniel said.
Bat hunched up his wings, clearly disappointed.
“I could probably get you some watermelon now, though.” Daniel’s parents loved when he ate fruit.
Bat’s large ears perked up. “Buttermelon?” he said.
“Watermelon,” Daniel corrected.
“Buttermelon,” Bat insisted.
“Okay, buttermelon,” Daniel said. It hardly mattered what they called it. “But first, are you the one who keeps making the puddle?”
“Undoubtedly,” Bat replied forlornly. “A bat is dripping. From a great sadness.”
“You mean crying?” Daniel asked.
“Dripping,” the bat repeated, “from mine eyes.”
“Why are you sad?” Daniel sat down on his bed. He wasn’t afraid anymore, only curious.
“A bat is many miles from mine home,” the bat replied.
“Are you lost?” Daniel asked.
“Lost,” said the bat. “And all alone.” Then he started to cry again. Drip, drip, drip.
“I’m a long way from home too,” Daniel said. “Well, three hours by car. But my family’s here, so I guess I’m not all alone like you.”
This only made the bat cry harder.
“Where did you live before?” Daniel asked.
“Mine home is the land of Papaya Premium,” the bat said.
“Where’s that?” Daniel asked. He’d gotten an A in geography, but he’d never heard of it.
The bat got a faraway look in his eye. “The land of Papaya Premium is where the shore meets the sea so blue. Where the parrots squawkety squawk and the piggy elephants romp in the raining forest. It’s being where the waterfalls burble and the whiffy orchid flowers spread sweetish stink.”
Daniel held up a hand to stop him because, otherwise, it seemed like the bat might go on all day.
“I mean, where is it?” he said. “Like, on a map.”
Bat frowned.
“Or a globe?” Daniel tried. That didn’t help.
“A blobe?” the bat said. He seemed to like that word. “Blobe, blobe, blobbedy-blobe.”
“Never mind,” Daniel said. He shouldn’t have expected a bat to know second grade geography.
Still, one thing was certain: wherever Papaya Premium was, Bat had to go back. If Daniel’s mom knew a bat was living in the attic—well, it wouldn’t be living there long. She’d get his dad to chase it out or—worse—call an exterminator.
If Bat couldn’t tell Daniel where Papaya Premium was, he’d need to figure it out himself. And, in the meantime, keep Bat from crying before he flooded the whole house.
“Wait here,” Daniel said. “I’ll get your buttermelon.”
THE LIBRARY
Even though Bat flew in circles and smacked his leathery lips when he saw the watermelon, it wasn’t long before he was right back to dripping—or crying—whatever you wanted to call it. Daniel was pretty sure neither of them slept a wink that night.
Daniel needed to get Bat home, and soon. He asked his parents about the land of Papaya Premium at breakfast, but they’d never heard of it either.
“Who told you about that?” his mother asked.
“Just a friend,” he answered.
“Oh,” she replied, hopefully. “Did you meet one of the kids next door?”
Daniel had seen the neighbor kids twice…once while carrying in boxes and again when he took out the trash. There was a girl about his age and a boy a little younger. He’d thought about waving, but they looked busy.
“No. Jason told me about Papaya Premium before we left Toronto,” he lied. His mom looked discouraged.
Daniel felt discouraged too. He couldn’t even look up Papaya Premium online because the Internet wasn’t set up. Then he remembered: there was another way.
“Can you take me to the library?” he asked.
“Sure,” his mom said. “The roofers are coming to look at that leak in your room anyway. Why don’t we go now?”
Daniel had almost forgotten about the “leak.” He couldn’t tell his parents what was really causing it. But he also couldn’t leave Bat to be discovered by the roofers.
“Wait! I just need to get my—um—bookmark,” Daniel said. He ran up to the attic.
“Bat!” he called.
Bat, who’d been fast asleep after a long night of keeping Daniel awake, blinked his giant eyes open.
“I’m going to the library to get information about your land. You need to come with me. Workers are on their way. If they find you here, they might hurt you.”
“Does theys gots brooms?” Bat asked, trembling.
“Ummm, I don�
�t think so,” Daniel answered. “But they probably have hammers and saws and things.”
Bat flew toward Daniel and latched on to one of his fingers with his feet, hanging upside down. Each foot had five tiny claws. They were sharp and grippy, but smoother than Daniel would have expected.
“Hide in my shirt pocket and stay quiet,” Daniel said. Then he remembered what he’d told his mom. He grabbed his Star Wars bookmark. “Hold this,” he said, tucking it into his pocket with Bat.
* * *
When they got to the library, Daniel’s mom went to sign up for library cards. Meanwhile, Daniel found a computer. It was in a corner facing the wall, so it was safe to let Bat out.
“If anyone comes, hide behind the bookmark,” Daniel told Bat.
Daniel started with an internet search for “Papaya Premium,” but all he got were recipes for smoothies.
Then he had an idea. Bat didn’t always call things by the right names…
“You said there are waterfalls, right? And orchids? Parrots? A raining forest and piggy elephants? And it’s near the sea…” Daniel entered those key words instead. The computer auto-corrected a few.
“Oh! You probably meant pygmy elephants!” he said. “And the rainforest. Borneo!” he announced, looking at the top search results. “Is your homeland Borneo?”
Bat was busy staring at the picture on Daniel’s bookmark.
“I think it’s probably Borneo,” Daniel concluded. “But that’s on the other side of the world!”
“Is a bat?” Bat asked, tilting the bookmark so Daniel could see.
“No,” he laughed. “That’s Darth Vader.” But he could understand how the bat might make that mistake. Darth Vader wore all black and his mask had a snouty look. “You know…from Star Wars. May the Force be with you!”
Megabat Page 1
