Horns & Wrinkles (7 page)

They dressed like bicyclists, wearing yellow and blue nylon trunks and shirts, with a shiny smoothness that clashed with their rough scales. The way they strutted, you could tell they thought fashion couldn't get any higher than tight-fitting nylon. No helmets, no shoes, no gloves. Hard heads, webbed feet, long claws. Two of them had several inches on Duke. The one named Stump may have stopped a full head shorter than Duke but spread much broader.

Jim Dandy and Biz were frog green, and Stump leaned toward mud gray, though probably because he'd been rolling in something. Leafy willow-branch hair fell to their shoulders. Teeth, oh yes. Their stubby tails must have made sitting down a challenge. Their speckled scales had yet to sprout warts, the way old trolls supposedly do, though they weren't kids either. From everything I'd heard, trolls lived for hundreds of years, and didn't this bunch look it. And smell it. The log canoe I'd just climbed out of was perfume in comparison.

It seemed strange, but after a minute or two of gawking, I sort of got used to their snouts and knobs. In fact, it almost seemed as if maybe I'd spied them somewhere before, in a dream or video game or passing car. They weren't quite as scary after that thought. The red silk scarf around Jim Dandy's neck seemed almost silly, until he started to talk.

"So this is the cousin you promised?" Jim Dandy stood with an arm around Duke's shoulder, friendly as Duke was whenever he had his eye on something of mine.

"As promised," Duke bragged. "As promised."

All three of the trolls, plus Duke, gave me a close inspection then. Hard as Duke was checking, you'd have thought he'd never seen me before now. As for the troll eyes looking me over—they flashed orange as goldfish.

"She's kind of runty," Jim Dandy observed.

"Depends who's measuring," I said right back.

Jim Dandy had a good hoot over that, but the storm cut him short, blowing in with a crash and a blaze. Then the rain galloped in, and I felt as though I were caught in a car wash without a car.

The campfire climbed even higher in the downpour, which meant these trolls knew a little more about magic than keeping back doors open and turning people to stone. Too bad they didn't know a spell to keep their guests dry. The deluge started them dancing again, possibly in celebration, as around and around the campfire they whirled, bumping into each other and tossing puff balls on the blaze, which made the fire greener and higher.

Duke whirled too. In between lightning strikes, when you couldn't see as much, his horn let him fit right in with the crowd.

They howled a song as they danced. It's not the kind of song I hope to hear again anytime soon.

Chug-ga-la-ka, chug-ga-la-ka, spoon spoon
We dance in the dark
Not under the moon.

Chug-ga-la-ka, chug-ga-la-ka, hey hey
Lions and tigers
Get out of our way.

After a few verses I began to get the idea that they were trying to talk themselves into doing something brave, and that maybe, on the inside, they weren't so big and tough and scary after all.

Then, fast as the storm had arrived, it blew over. A carpet of clear, starry sky unrolled behind it, and the trolls turned sentimental. One of them, the one named Stump, pulled a ukulele out of an alligator-hide bag and started strumming a mournful tune. You'd have thought somebody's hamster had died. The troll called Jim Dandy started singing. It sounded as though he was having a tooth pulled, but Duke, standing respectfully off to the side, looked as though it was the prettiest tune he'd ever heard.

Goodbye, dear sisters,
We're leaving this river.
Goodbye, dear sisters,
We'll dig up our dads.

Our mothers don't want us—
We've turned truly rotten.
They drove us away
With the stone and the pan.
But someday they'll know

How poorly they judged us
When we come back
With pure gold in our hands.

Goodbye, dear sisters,
We're leaving this river.
Goodbye, dear sisters,
We'll dig up our dads.

We'll sniff up some stars
And trade them for crickets,
Whose lies will lead us
Through sand and through fog.
And when we find out
The place our dads went to,
We'll smash all their kettles
And drink up their grog.

Goodbye, dear sisters,
We're leaving this river.
Goodbye, dear sisters,
We'll dig up our dads.

Every word of it was heartfelt and left me wishing there were some way I could help ease their sorrows. When the one called Stump wiped a tear from his eye and waved for me to join in, I gave Jim Dandy some help with the chorus.

There's sure to be plenty
Of cold porridge and glory.
There's sure to be
Treacherous times that are bad.
But we don't fear nothing

Unless it's the story
Of Bo the Great Rock Troll
Who tricked all our dads.

Goodbye, dear sisters,
We're leaving this river.
Goodbye, dear sisters,
We'll dig up our dads.

We sang long enough for the moon to come up, yellow as a cat's eye and thin as someone who can't quit dieting. As soon as the moon arrived, Jim Dandy stopped singing and whipped out sunglasses, though in this case I suppose they should be called moonglasses.

Biz started to say something to Jim Dandy, then caught Duke listening and thought better of it. Grabbing a lock of Jim Dandy's willow hair, he yanked him off to the side for privacy. Jim Dandy went along without a squawk, which said tons about who really ran the show.

Duke leaned their way, eavesdropping for all he was worth. He couldn't have been hearing much, though, not the way his face was screwed up around his horn. Whatever he was missing left him plenty worried.

While Biz was roughing up Jim Dandy, the one named Stump eased up beside me to whisper, "Don't worry yourself any. I won't let them do anything real bad to you."

Of the three trolls, Stump was probably the ugliest, with whiskers that were bent and broken, and a bobbing Adam's apple. The tip of his snout, right around the nostrils, had a green duckweed foam bubbling out with every breath. But when he spoke, he sounded polite, protective, maybe a little simple, and, believe it or not, almost sweet.

"You mean like being turned to stone?" I said.

"Stone's not bad." The suggestion that it was surprised him. "Stone's nice and soothing. No, I'm talking about something like turning you into a church bell. Think how terrible that would be."

"Can you do that?" I asked. "Turn people into church bells, I mean."

"Not that I know of," Stump said with a startled laugh. "I was just saying it. You know, one of those for-example things."

I was about to ask how they turned people into stone, but Stump suddenly stiffened and shuffled away. Looking up, I saw Biz shoving Jim Dandy back toward the fire.

"Let's get down to business here," Jim Dandy barked, having received his marching orders. "We need to get these screens by tomorrow night."

"Relax, boys," Duke advised, all chummy. "My cousin can get you screens, no problem. Maybe a bucket of willow cats too."

"Lip smackers?" Stump perked up.

Willow cats are a baby catfish that bait shops around here sell. They're not my idea of a tasty snack, but with thoughts of stone statues and church bells filling my head, I played along, hoping that Duke knew what he was doing.

"Screens first," Jim Dandy insisted, after a sharp poke from Biz.

"You've got to have a few nibblies on the way," Duke said, always on the lookout for his stomach, "or the trip's not worth making."

"But what if there's not enough money for both?" Jim Dandy pointed out.

The nervous way he mentioned it made both Biz and Stump's snouts jerk up, as if they'd just caught a whiff of something foul.

"Well," Duke griped, backing off a bit, "I suppose you're right about that, but I don't see what a treat or two can hurt."

"No," Stump moaned, disappointed, "got to be screens first."

Biz continued his silent ways. Instead of talking, he crossed over to an alligator bag and dug out a silver dollar that glinted in the firelight. Stump got a dollar from another bag. Jim Dandy didn't budge, his grin growing suspiciously bigger.

"Where's yours?" Stump poked Jim Dandy's arm.

"Well, boys," Jim Dandy gushed, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"You told us you stole one from your mother," Stump said.

"Now, you boys know how my mother is." Jim Dandy stepped away. "She's not the sort to leave her purse unguarded."

"But there's screens to buy." Stump was dumbfounded.

Biz took a threatening step forward.

"Now, boys," Jim Dandy cooed, holding his hands up for Biz to stop where he stood, "ain't I the one who spotted old Duke here and brought him on board? Oughtn't that be worth something powerfully good before this business is through?"

Duke nodded yes as fast as he could to that. It slowed Stump a bit too, though not Biz, who was busy reaching for a fresh handful of Jim Dandy's hair.

"And I'm willing to bet," Jim Dandy sped on, leaning away from Biz's grasping hand, "that Duke's little cousin here can get us three screens for two dollars."

"But screens have always been a dollar apiece," Stump protested, shocked at the notion that they could be had for less.

Biz glared without bothering to agree.

"Yes, they have," Jim Dandy said, doubling up on agreeable, "but you've heard how sweet this little cousin of his can sing. And if she can't get us three screens tomorrow, plus some willow cats, then I'll swim back home and pinch a silver dollar from my mother's purse, no matter what."

"You said that before." Stump frowned.

"And this time I mean it," Jim Dandy promised.

During the face-off that followed, I decided it was now or never and told Jim Dandy, "I could get you a silver dollar."

"She's got a heart of gold," Jim Dandy cried out with a laugh that didn't sway anyone, not even Duke, who was reaching for my ears.

"Matter of fact"—I grunted, twisting away from Duke—"I can get you three silver dollars. One for each of you if you'll just promise to take me and Duke home, and do something about Duke's parents and some others, like our grandpa, who made the mistake of touching them." They all looked at me with such blank faces that I felt obliged to add, "They're all stone."

"Don't promise her anything." Duke pointed an awfully thick finger at me. "I'm not going home, and I like my parents the way you left them. And don't worry about silver dollars—I'll make her fork 'em over."

"What'd I tell you?" Jim Dandy patted Duke on the back like a proud father.

Biz drew a finger across his throat, shutting Jim Dandy up fast.

"Save your dollars," Stump muttered to me, downcast. "They wouldn't do us any good. These screens got to be bought with silver stolen from our mother's purses. Otherwise we'll never find our fathers."

"We don't know that for sure," Jim Dandy cautioned.

"Rules got to be followed," Stump said stubbornly. "Why do you think they're rules?"

Jim Dandy didn't come up with a slick answer for that, not with Biz trying to throttle him. It left me in a pretty tight pickle too, seeing as how I didn't have a backup plan to the silver dollars.

"Sit down," Duke growled in my ear. "Shut up."

He grabbed my arm too, but the instant he touched me his horn shot out another inch and he let go of me with a yelp. After that he left me alone, as we listened to the trolls carry on about how Jim Dandy was afraid of his own mother. They kept it up all the way to dawn, when they wrapped everything up in a hurry. Snatching their alligator bags, Stump and Biz each slapped a silver dollar in my hand.

"Talk sweet." Jim Dandy offered advice instead of a dollar.

"Don't worry," Stump said, doing enough of it for all of us.

As for Biz, he gave me a look so cold that it made me wish I were on my way, but I wasn't. Planting my feet, I announced that I wasn't going anywhere until they promised to change Duke's parents, our grandpa, and a couple of others back from stone.

Duke pretty near fainted from embarrassment, his cheeks boiled so red, but Jim Dandy only threw back his head and brayed loudly. It was Biz who gave me an answer.

"Done."

It was the first word I'd heard him say, and it answered why he was so willing to let Jim Dandy gab away. His voice was as high and squeaky as a baby bird's. Being a tough guy with a voice like that had to be all uphill. The way he held a paw out to shake on our deal wasn't exactly reassuring, not as grim as he looked, but I shook his scaly mitt anyway. Without a lawyer handy to draw up a contract, what could it hurt?

A couple of minutes before sunrise, they slid into the river. Biz led the way, followed by Jim Dandy, followed by Stump. Single file, they disappeared under the current. A few bubbles, then nothing, unless you counted a big bass jumping out of the water as if chased.