Willa and the Whale

by Chad Morris

  Maybe in a couple of weeks I’d be comfortable enough to tell him to shave his beard.

  And Masha. She wasn’t taking me out to dinner or anything, and she still didn’t like how I made sandwiches when I was hungry, but I asked her what she was always doing on her phone and she showed me. So I sent a friend request and she accepted it on social media. She actually posts some really funny and cool stuff. I mean, it’s not like awesome videos of back-flopping humpback whales, but it’s fun. A lot of it is just what my stepsibs say and the trouble they get into. I think it’s how she deals with it all. I comment sometimes and she always responds. I like it. And for my birthday she posted my picture and said some pretty nice things about me. I think she really likes me.

  My stepsibs were still loud and cute—but loud. Did I mention that they were loud? Caleb still hangs out on the front porch, Nadia gets overexcited, Garth always repeats what everyone says, and I still feel like waking Hannah is considered the worst thing I could possibly do in this house. But they’re all pretty fun in their own way. Being part of a big family was never something I think I’d ever choose for myself, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, once you get used to it, there are some really good things about it.

  And Marc and his family. I had dinner over there three times in the last few weeks. I love those people.

  Lizzy is still Lizzy. We actually talk quite a bit now, mostly in class and at swim. In front of the whole class, she told Mr. Norton she wanted to be on my debate team, but then no one else in the class would stand a chance. And then Mr. Norton said that she was probably right. I liked that. A lot. He told us that next year we should try out for the school debate team. That didn’t seem like a bad idea.

  Jean Lambert was always just down the beach. And there was something very comforting about that.

  Coach Jackson helped me see how I was getting better.

  And I had my therapist for the hard days.

  I had a really great pod.

  “Yeah,” I said back to Meg, “I’ll be okay.”

  Then Meg rose up and did a most spectacular rise and back flop. Just for me.

  She told me again she’d miss me. And then she was gone.

  The bike ride back home felt heavy, but eventually I made it. I threw my bike in the shed and rushed to the front door. I had told my dad that I’d be back before dinner, and I was cutting it close. Rounding the corner and barreling up the front steps, I toppled over.

  Caleb had been sitting on the front steps again.

  “Sorry,” I said, getting to my feet and making sure he was okay. Thankfully, it was more awkward than painful. “This is a dangerous place to hang out when I’m not looking.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, checking his elbow for any scratches.

  Weird kid.

  I reached for the doorknob, then stopped. “Hey, Caleb,” I said, turning and sitting down next to him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you ever been to the tide pools?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

  He looked intrigued. “What’s a tide pool?”

  I let out a huge sigh. Who’s been training this kid? I sat next to him and pulled out my ocean journal.

  Willa Twitchell, Journal #5, today

  Hey, Mom, I still think about you all the time. More than whales, or feather stars, or crabs, or dolphins. I really miss you. And I always will.

  I had to say goodbye to Meg. That was hard. Really hard. Not nearly as bad as saying goodbye to you, but it wasn’t easy. You would have liked her. A lot. A ton. All thirty-three tons of her.

  The whole family is leaving in a few minutes to go to the university to see Blue. They’ve got his bones hung from the ceiling and they are having an unveiling. Can you imagine an entire blue whale skeleton displayed across the ceiling of a museum? He probably takes up the whole room. And just seeing him will probably inspire thousands of kids to want to know what happens in the ocean. He was the first blue whale I saw. And he inspired me.

  I’m really happy to have been a part of that. That he will be remembered. I’m proud of all of the people that helped.

  And Chihiro sent me one of your journals they found in your office. I’m reading it a little at a time. It helps me remember you and how much you love me. She also sent a paper lantern for Obon. She said that during the festival, she’ll be dancing to remember you. I’ll light the lantern here to remember you, too. To be grateful for you. And so you can find me. I’m not really sure how that works, but I want you to know that someone is definitely thinking about you, during Obon and every day before and after. That someone loves you. That you will never be forgotten.

  But before I go see Blue’s amazing skeleton, do you remember how you told me that the ocean is filled with more wonders than the most brilliant explorer could ever discover or fully appreciate? And then you said, “Just like you”? And you were pointing to me? I’ve never forgotten that. And I never will.

  And sometimes when I feel sad, really sad, I remember that.

  And I choose to believe that you just might be right. I mean, you were a great scientist.

  I’ll love you forever.

  Maylan Twitchell, Journal #13, twelve years ago

  I’ve studied creatures throughout the whole ocean, but none of them are as fascinating as my own baby girl. I love you, Willa. My little human. There are a lot of wonders and beauties in this world that continue to interest and surprise me, and I love a good ­surprise. But you, Willa, are my favorite pleasant ­surprise.

  Hey, you.

  Yeah, you.

  Thanks for reading this book. Without readers like you there is no reason to write books. Thanks for taking the time and trusting us enough to read Willa and the Whale. We hope you liked it. Feel free to hunt us down on social media, or email us at chadcmorris@gmail.com and let us know what you think. We love to hear from readers. And if you liked this book, please spread the word. That’s how other amazing readers find their next read. In fact, there’s a good chance that you read this book because someone recommended it to you. You can also check out the other books we wrote together, Mustaches for Maddie and Squint.

  If you are a teacher, librarian, media specialist, or administrator, thanks for reading our book, and thanks for all you do that encourages young readers. Your jobs are invaluable. If we can help, let us know. We love to visit schools and do assemblies. We’ve been all over the nation and have visited hundreds of schools talking about reading, kindness, creativity, friends, and imagination.

  And thanks to Shadow Mountain Publishing for publishing this book. Special thanks to Chris Schoebinger, Heidi Taylor, and Lisa Magnum who loved the concept and played important roles in shaping the story. Not only do they help us, but they believe in us, and are our friends. What a publishing company! And thanks to Derk Koldewyn for his editorial eye and hours of help. There would be some pretty embarrassing mistakes without Derk cleaning up our mess. He made our book better. Thanks to Troy Butcher and the marketing team for all of your hard work. Thanks to Emily Remington for the amazing cover. We love it. And thanks to Richard Erickson for the art direction.

  Thanks to our agent, Ben Grange, for his advice, help, enthusiasm, cheerleading, etc. He really is the best.

  We also need to thank all those who read manuscripts of this book and gave us advice and feedback: Maria Garcia, Susan Allred, Bruce Jacobs, and Josh Hales.

  Thanks to all of the marine biologists and enthusiasts out there who write articles and post pictures and videos. We already loved ocean creatures, but we heavily leaned on your expertise and footage. It’s absolutely fascinating and you do wonderful work. Seriously, everyone should look up information about Japanese puffer fish, bobbitt worms, humpback whales and any cool creature that catches your attention in this book.

  Thanks to everyone who cares about our oceans and all the life in them. They are worth preserving
.

  Thanks to Melissa Golden and her awesome children who inspired the “get that spatula out of your shirt” line.

  To all those who are going through something difficult, let’s not be afraid to talk. Talk to a friend, a parent, a therapist, or even a whale. Everyone should have their own whale.

  1. Willa loves sea creatures. All of them. Even zombie worms. What do you really love? Why?

  2. Willa and her mother both kept journals. Have you ever tried to keep a journal before? If you did, what would you write down? Why is it good to have your thoughts and memories written down?

  3. Willa’s parents went through a divorce, Willa’s mother died, and then she had to adjust to a new family. How can you see Willa becoming stronger by dealing with the difficult things in her life? Do you believe that our struggles in life make us stronger? Why or why not?

  4. Willa had a hard time dealing with her mother’s death. She talked to Meg about it, then Marc, her dad, and even a therapist. Marc had hard things to deal with too. Why do you think it’s good to talk about our problems and feelings with others? If you had a difficult problem, who would you talk to? Why?

  5. Willa tried out for the swim team, trying to get closer to Marc. What do you do with your friends? Why might it be good to try new things?

  6. For most of this book, Willa thought that Lizzy was her enemy. Willa was wrong. Have you ever misjudged someone? What do you think we can do to avoid misjudging other people?

  7. How are Willa and Marc similar? How are they different? Willa is also friends with people who are older and younger than she is. Can you name some examples? Why do you think it is important to be friends with different kinds of people?

  Shelly Brown was born in the ­Northwest and grew up near the ocean. It’s a part of her. She can surf and point out all sorts of sea creatures and plants (though not necessarily at the same time). Now that she lives in the mountains, she has saved money, planned, and taken Chad and their five kids to both coasts to swim, surf, search tide pools, snorkel, and watch sea lions, seals, turtles, whales, and more. Her soul speaks ocean.

  Growing up, Chad Morris was fascinated by blue whales. He read books about the world’s largest creature and did grade school reports on them. He drew pictures of them and taped them to his wall (the pictures, not whales—that would be impossible). He would love to see a blue whale in real life, but he’d rather not meet a bobbitt or zombie worm. Seriously, he’d prefer his bones not become jelly.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Trained by the Best

  Chapter 2: In Japan

  Chapter 3: Thanking a Humpback

  Chapter 4: Meg

  Chapter 5: Unnoticed

  Chapter 6: Risky

  Chapter 7: 400 Blue Whales Away

  Chapter 8: Marc

  Chapter 9: Almost

  Chapter 10: Skipping Rocks for It

  Chapter 11: Lizzy

  Chapter 12: Tryouts

  Chapter 13: Focus

  Chapter 14: Backflip for Me

  Chapter 15: Like a Wave Flung Me into a Coral Reef

  Chapter 16: News

  Chapter 17: Carry

  Chapter 18: Debate

  Chapter 19: The Mendoza Marina

  Chapter 20: The Shadow

  Chapter 21: 911

  Chapter 22: Help

  Chapter 23: The Plan

  Chapter 24: A Haze

  Chapter 25: Tell Them

  Chapter 26: Follower

  Chapter 27: Friends, but No Matching Necklaces

  Chapter 28: Like We Used To

  Chapter 29: Cookies

  Chapter 30: What to Do with a Dead Whale?

  Chapter 31: Whalesplosion

  Chapter 32: A Package

  Chapter 33: An Idea

  Chapter 34: Like You

  Chapter 35: City Council

  Chapter 36: Hard to Say

  Chapter 37: On the Blocks

  Chapter 38: Finally Winning

  Chapter 39: Migration

  Chapter 40

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  About the Authors

  Landmarks

  Cover

  Table of Contents