Brass Monkeys (29 page)

“Hey, I am pale and funny,” I said without much amusement. “I’m the palest, funniest, most comical kid in the whole underworld.”

Harriet gave me a thoughtful look and grinned. “You’re the goofiest anyway.” She kept watching me.

“What?” I said.

She hesitated. “When we were in Ming’s School, in that horrible basement, you started to tell me something. You never finished. I just wondered what it was?”

“Oh, that,” I said. I felt my face heating up.

She nodded. “I just wondered if you were going to tell me? Ever?”

“Maybe. But not right now.”

“Why not? Is it something bad?”

I shook my head. “Not really. No, not at all. Heck no, it’s not bad!”

“So, if it’s not bad?” Her golden-brown eyes bored into me.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” I said. “On the day we get back safely to Grindsville, I’ll tell you.”

“What if you can’t remember? I mean, if your memory’s gone?”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s no way I’d forget that.”

“Okay, it’s a deal,” she said. She put her slim, cool hand in mine and we shook on it. “And you’d better believe I won’t forget it.”

We watched Jack resume his place at the tiller. Harriet turned to me with another one of those thoughtful looks.

“I like your friends,” she said. “Especially Jack. But I’m not sure he likes us all that well. He seems, I don’t know, really dark and unhappy.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Something bad happened back at Ming’s school.”

She regarded me intently. “Can you help him?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” The truth was, the adult world was a total mystery to me. I never could understand it, and the thought of how I might help Jack seemed like the biggest puzzle of all. While

I watched him, I felt a rush of sadness. There was something awful about the way he stood at the tiller, his blue light gone and his tunic bearing the awful “U.” Then another horrible thought burst in on me: we had all been hurt by Ming in our last encounter, and maybe none of us would truly recover. Ever.

Those thoughts were so gloomy, I gave it up and just sank into a moody silence. For some reason this atmosphere seemed to settle over the entire group. The talking died away, and after a while there was, complete silence.

We sailed for what seemed like hours, on and on across the sparkling waters. Jack must have decided just to go with the wind in hopes of getting lucky and finding the Grotto. This worked for a while, but then the wind died until there was hardly a ripple on the water. We began to drift aimlessly. Finally, to make the situation more hopeless, a strange blue mist rolled over us, making it impossible to see.

Where was the Blue Grotto?

At this point, Teddy tried to break us out of the mood by playing a song on the violin. It was a bouncy Celtic tune that seemed to energize us momentarily, but as the last notes died, you could feel the emotion slipping away. For a second I thought about playing my trumpet, but for some reason my heart wasn’t in it.

Ray jumped in and got us to sing “These Boots,” and that actually got us laughing, all except Jack, who refused to get involved. Then Lilah wanted us to sing “I’ve Got Sixpence” and so we started that, and for just a brief moment I thought Jack might join in. It would have been the greatest golden moment in the world if he had, but for some reason he wouldn’t. He actually turned his back and walked to another part of the boat. I saw a little look pass across Lilah’s face. I guess I suspected all along that she liked him in a romantic sort of way, but that tiny glance revealed everything.

We were just starting the last chorus of the song when our voices were suddenly blasted to nothing by a thunderous chord of music.

When the chord of music died away, Ray said, “Uh-oh …”

Jack snatched up a boat hook. He started to say something, but it was drowned out by a series of chords that seemed to come from the bowels of the Earth.

“Big uh-oh,” muttered Ray.

“Steady,” said Jack. Then, as if a curtain had been raised, we drifted out of the mist into a blinding pool of light. I heard Harriet cry out in amazement and I saw it too.

A big floating platform appeared out of the mist, and seated on it were dozens of young musicians, their instruments glinting in the light. They let go with another chord of music that came across the water like a monster cannonball.

Now they launched into a piece that absolutely riveted us. It was the kind of music you’d expect to hear on your first day in heaven. It made me want to laugh, cry, and yell in triumph all at the same time.

We drew closer to the floating platform, and suddenly another vessel appeared. It was a long blue canoe, being paddled by at least a dozen kids. A woman dressed in a flowing blue robe stood in the center of the canoe.

“Adjana,”
I murmured. It had to be.

I don’t think any of us moved a muscle as the slim craft drew closer. When the people in the canoe finally came into focus, I heard a gasp of surprise from Ray. I’m sure my own mouth was hanging open like a big trap door. The kids paddling the craft had brilliant tattoos all over their faces.

Ray whispered in a hoarse voice, “Holy Aunt Petunia, look at those tats.”

My gaze had already shifted to the woman. She was tall and slender and had waist-length white hair that rippled in the wind. In spite of the white hair, you couldn’t tell if she was old or young. She had that kind of face.

I glanced over at Jack, Lilah, and Teddy, and they seemed totally hypnotized at the sight of her. The canoe drew alongside, and I could see that she was beautiful. I know that’s a really cheesy, overused word and all, but in this case it’s the only word that really fits.

She smiled at us now, and her face seemed so wise, tranquil, and
familiar
. I felt as if I had known her all my life.

The paddlers reached out, grabbed our railing, and pulled the canoe closer. Now I could see what their tatoos were all about. It looked like each kid had drawn characters and scenes from a favorite book on themselves. The paddlers were a mix of races and genders. There were boys and girls, white kids, African-American kids, and some Asian-Americans. A short, muscular Latino sporting a wild bunch of green hair grabbed our railing and scrambled to the deck. The minute he was aboard, the woman gestured sharply to the paddlers. They called out a lusty “Ho!” and dipped their paddles, driving the big canoe away from the sailboat.

The Latino strode toward us, and I could see his upper body was covered with colorful drawings. He had written “Lorca Rules” on his forehead. I recalled a little about Lorca because, once during Spanish week back at Harris, I had seen his picture up in the library. I knew he was a famous Spanish poet, and I figured the drawings all over this kid were illustrations from various poems. A drawing of a Spanish bullfighter on his right cheek really got my attention.

The kid stopped, glanced around with a friendly grin, and then waved briskly to the band on the platform. The music immediately dropped in volume.

He nodded at Ray as if they had known each other for years. “I assume you’re the leader here?” he began.

Ray looked dumbfounded. “Ah, not really. Our leader is …” He looked at me.

I, in turn, looked at Jack.

“It’s him,” said Jack, pointing at me.

“Jack,” I started to protest, but he shook his head and looked away. “It’s you, kid,” he said quietly.

“And your name would be?” prompted the guy with the green hair, giving me an appraising look.

“Bumpus,” I said. “Billy Bumpus.”

The guy nodded. “So, a cool name, my man. My name’s Eddie Alfonso. I’m chief of the Tattaloonies.” He gestured at the tattooed kids in the canoe.

I nodded dumbly and heard Ray murmur in an awestruck voice, “Awright, Tattaloonies!”

“We’d like to welcome all of you to the School of the Blue Grotto,” Eddie Alfonso went on grandly. “Our leader and teacher, Adjana—” he pointed at the woman in the canoe—”wishes for you to come ashore as she has some very important information to divulge.” Here Eddie Alfonso squinted his eyes in an important manner and added in a low voice, “This is information that could be vital to a great mission, which I ain’t going to go into now, as I know it’s highly secret and dangerous. But if you’d care to follow us, we’ll get right down to business!” He paused and eyed me as if expecting an equally grand reply.

“Hey,” I said, “we’d really like to do that. Absolutely. No kidding.” I thought I had never sounded so stupid.

“Cool beans!” he said. “We’ll have a blast.” He started toward the railing, signaling to the paddlers in the canoe, but then he turned. “Oh, there was one other thing. Adjana wanted me to tell you how much she liked the songs you guys just sang. We all did.”

“She did? You did?”

“Too right, brother. That old ‘Boots’ thing knocked us down.”

“Great,” I said and I saw Ray light up with a giant grin. “And what was that piece your band was just playing?” I asked. “It was fantastic.”

“Good word,” replied Eddie Alfonso. “It’s a knock-down tune, but it ain’t quite done yet. You guys never heard anything like it, have you?” “Never,” said Harriet suddenly. “What’s it called and who wrote it?”

“It’s called ‘The Young Shall Ride Unicorns,’” replied Eddie. When he said that, the drawing of the unicorn I had found at Adjana’s old school flashed through my mind. I glanced quickly at Lilah and Teddy. Teddy had already signed it to Lilah and they were grinning and nodding at me like crazy.

“And as far as who wrote it,” Eddie Alfonso went on, “that could only be one person—McGinty!”

The sound of that name sent a jolt of excitement through all of us and I heard Harriet gasp. For a moment, even Jack flashed a grin.

“So where is he?” Jack spoke up quickly. “We need to talk to him.”

Eddie smiled and said, “Come ashore and Adjana will go into all that.”

Just then the long blue canoe came gliding powerfully toward us.

Eddie gave Ray a little thumb’s up, and said, “Great tats, man,” then stepped nimbly back aboard the craft. The paddlers never paused with their muscular strokes, and in a flash the canoe pulled away. Adjana gave us a friendly but mysterious smile and then turned her face toward shore.

Immediately the band on the floating platform started up with a grand chord, and again we heard “The Young Shall Ride Unicorns.”

During this we stood by the railing and stared like hypnotized geeks. I felt a sudden urge to jump in the water and swim after Adjana. When I glanced over at the others, I could tell she had the same power over them. Even Jack was staring after her as if lost in a dream.

“Okay, let’s follow them!” I shouted. Then I did a really dumb thing. Without thinking, I grabbed the tiller from Jack and turned the boat until we were following the canoe. Jack didn’t protest at all. He just stepped aside. When I realized what I’d done, I started to hand the tiller back, but he had already turned and was walking slowly away. I knew right then I had made a serious mistake, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because I had to watch where we were going.

The platform carrying the band was moving right along with us, being pulled by two ropes that disappeared off in the mist. Then the mist cleared, and there was the Blue Grotto.

First, there was the neatest little bay of blue water and then a long white sandy beach. I could see a big bunch of kids near the water’s edge, all of them hauling on the ropes, pulling the platform toward shore. Harriet pointed at a blue building that lay farther back near the rocky slope.

“I’ll bet that’s Adjana’s school,” she said. Her voice trembled with excitement.

The building resembled a small Greek temple, and the roof and columns were made out of some kind of blue stone that glinted in the light.

“That can’t be no school,” muttered Ray. “It looks way too good for that.”

Something else caught my eye—the landscape beyond the building. The rocky slope rose gently for a bit, then shot straight up in a solid wall of dark blue stone. That wall seemed to go up forever, disappearing in the misty dimness near the very top of the underworld. Gazing off into the distance, I could see the dim outlines of the wall and it seemed to form a giant circle around the Grotto. I figured the far end of the circle was blocked by the Cliffs of Notes and the Sea of Hot Lunches. Harriet must have been following the same line of thought.

“No one could ever climb that wall,” she said, “and my guess is, that’s why it’s impossible to get out of here.”

I nodded nervously. The rock wall made the Cliffs of Notes look like a climb on a jungle gym. I was pulled out of this frightening thought by the bright sound of trumpets. A small group of musicians had come out of the school and was standing near the entrance, lifting their horns in our direction. Some really terrific chords drifted on the wind.

“Whoa, is that great or what?” I said.

Ray laughed. “It’s totally nuts, man. I never cared if I went to school, anywhere. But seeing this place and hearing their music makes me
want
to go.”

Harriet nodded. “You’re right. In a strange way, I feel like we’ve come home.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. We followed Adjana’s blue canoe into the little sparkling bay, and right away I turned to Jack, hoping he’d take charge again. “What do we do now?” I called to him.

“Whatever you want,” he said with a shrug. “You’re the captain.”

I should have stopped right then and settled the issue. I mean, I was more of a mobile turnip-head than “captain” of anything. But all of a sudden it looked like our boat was going to ram the platform.

“Lower the sails!” I yelled. Luckily, this was the right thing to do. We dropped all the canvas to the deck and slowed to a crawl.

The platform and the canoe reached the beach just ahead of us, and the kids piled off, waiting for us in noisy groups. Now a group of older men and women came down from the temple-like building and joined the kids.

“Teachers,” murmured Harriet and I figured she was right. They had to be some of Adjana’s great Master Teachers.