Moby Clique (21 page)

“There, you see? Now give me the book and I’ll bring him over the side,” Ms. P says.

“Don’t trust her!” Blade calls out, but too late, because Lindsay hands over the book. Naturally, the minute Ms. P has the book in her hands, she drops Ryan back into the foaming sea.

“That’s it!” says Parker, coming to for the first time, pulling herself up on her feet. She hobbles up to Ms. P and grabs the book out of her hands. Ms. P is so busy concentrating on Lindsay that she doesn’t see Parker. “No one messes with
my
Ryan,” Parker adds for good measure, as she gives our teacher a hard push. Ms. P totters and then falls over the side of the boat.

I feel a little like cheering for Parker. Except for the fact that she’s Parker, and because one second later she drops
Moby-Dick
over the side of the boat.

“Parker! We needed that,” I say. “There’s no other way to curb the storm or get us home.”

“I’ll get it!” Lindsay shouts, scrambling up on top of the boat railing and leaning over, trying to reach the book. But, in seconds, Ms. P has appeared again, this time dripping wet and clutching both books to her chest—
Moby-Dick
and
To the Lighthouse.
With her free hand, she reaches up, grabs Lindsay’s arm, and flings her overboard.

I’m not sure if it’s Lindsay screaming, or me, as I run straight to the edge and look over. Miraculously, my sister’s managed to fall straight into the boat with Captain Ahab and his crew, saved from the ocean, which—given the fact that she can’t swim—is a good thing. She’s out cold, though, and that’s definitely bad. So is the fact that they’re headed straight out to fight Moby Dick, and everything in the book says they’ll lose.

“We’ve got to save her!” I shout to Heathcliff, who’s already in motion. He leaps at Ms. P. She sidesteps Heathcliff’s lunge, but isn’t quite fast enough. He manages to grab a book from her hands and tosses it to Blade, who catches it easily. She pops open the book and Ms. W flies out.

“That’s more like it,” she says, then turns to face Ms. P, whose eyes widen in fear.

“Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf? I’d say
you,
right now,” Blade says to Ms. P.

“Good one,” Samir says.

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Samir nods his admiration.

“Would you two get a room already?” Parker snaps at them both. “Jesus. Enough with the flirting banter.”

The two teachers circle each other warily and then, suddenly, Ms. P floats upward, toward the lookout post on the ship, fleeing as fast as she can go. Ms. W follows.

I am still hanging over the rail, watching Lindsay sail away with Ahab.

“Lindsay!” I shout. “Lindsay! Wake up!” Lindsay groans a little, but doesn’t quite come to. I watch, helplessly, as Ahab’s rowboat moves farther and farther from the ship. Beside me, Heathcliff glances at the water. There’s too big a gap now to jump, even for him. I look out on the ocean and see that Ryan is swimming toward Lindsay. He’s making good progress. I hope he gets there soon.

Above our heads, Ms. P and Ms. W clash.

“Give up, Sylvia, you’re trapped!” Ms. W yells.

“Never!” Ms. P shouts back.

The two ghosts swirl in figure eights around the ship’s mast and sails. At this rate, Ms. P could play her game of “keepaway” forever.

A bright light breaks through the clouds in the horizon. It’s sunlight, and it slashes through the clouds in sharp rays, illuminating the water in bright, dazzling patches.

“We’re at the boundary,” Ms. W calls to Ms. P. “We can’t go any farther.”

“I assume she means purgatory?” Blade asks me.

“We can go farther and we will. I
will
see my children again.”

Beneath our feet, the boat comes to a standstill. It’s strange, but true. We just stop moving and the sea around us goes completely still. Behind us, the storm is still raging, but in this one spot, with the light coming down, everything is still. It’s like we’ve crossed some invisible line. The ocean runs past us, but the boat is completely still, as if some large invisible hand is holding us stationary.

“Whoa,” Samir says.

“This is
so
cool,” Blade says, leaning far over the rail to watch the water splash up against the side of the boat, even though we’re no longer moving.

I put my hand out over the rail of the ship and it hits something hard and cold. It’s like invisible glass.

“I told you we were at the boundary,” Ms. W says. “Now, stop this nonsense and come with me. You can go no farther.”

“No,” Ms. P says, floating out over the ship’s stern. She puts her hands up as if to feel what is holding us in place. “No! It isn’t possible! The ocean!”

“We cannot leave before our time,” Ms. W says. She’s nearly close enough to Ms. P now to grab her. She lunges, but Ms. P spins away at the last second and the two are suddenly locked in a struggle. Somehow Ms. P loses her grip on the book and
Moby-Dick
falls into the water beside us. I see it slowly sink beneath the surface. There’s a giant bubbling circle, as if it’s causing some kind of reaction with the water.

“Is that what I think it is?” Samir says, pointing.

The bubbles grow bigger, then a spout of water bursts up through the surface. A whale’s signature.

I swallow, hard.

“If you’re thinking it’s the world’s most famous sea mammal, then yeah, it’s what you think it is.”

We turn in time to see a massive white tail rise out of the water just feet from the boat. It stays there, still, for a second, dripping water, before crashing through the bough and sending splinters of wood in all directions.

Twenty-six

Chunks of wood and water
fly through the air as the
Pequod
leans sharply to one side. The mast cracks in half and comes crashing down beside us as Parker, Heathcliff, and I hop one way to avoid it and Blade and Samir go another.

“No way, it isn’t…it’s not possible,” Parker is sputtering in shock.

“Get used to the impossible,” I say.

Moby Dick slides under the boat and it rocks hard to the left. I lose my footing and go sliding on my back across the deck, dangerously close to the water that’s bubbling up from Moby Dick’s attack.

Heathcliff shouts my name as he tries to come after me. But the deck is in pieces and it’s hard for him to find his footing.

I don’t see any sign of the whale, but I know he’s nearby and that he can swallow people whole. I flail my arms and legs and manage to grab on to some fish netting. But it looks like I’m too heavy for the netting because it’s coming loose from the hooks holding it to the ship.

At my feet, I see the water churning and bubbling. As I watch, frozen, the whale surfaces, its giant head huge and hulking. I’m now a few feet away from its massive, bent jaw. Its mouth creaks open, revealing rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, each one big enough to cut me in half. I’m starting to think movie producers made a mistake when they chose sharks for
Jaws.
Moby Dick is way scarier.

“Um, nice whale?” I say, trying to get a firmer hold on the fishnet, which is coming loose in my grasp. And then I hear a scream and Parker tumbles down the deck, bouncing into me, and nearly sending us both into the giant mouth of Moby Dick.

She’s now clinging to the net and I’m holding on to her legs.

“Don’t let go!” I shout to her.

“Um, state the obvious!” Parker shouts back.

Moby Dick blows out more water from his blowhole and opens his mouth wider, sending out a scented bouquet of decaying fish.

“Geez, ever heard of an Altoid?” I say, flinching.

“What’s an Altoid?” asks Ms. W, who swoops in from above my head and lifts us to safety.

“Ms. W! Thank God.”

“You’re welcome,” she says as she puts us down on the edge of the ship that isn’t yet underwater.

Parker just crosses her arms. “I’m still going to sue,” she tells Ms. W. “And just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you’re not liable.”

I crowd together with Blade, Samir, and Heathcliff, who are all holding on to whatever they can to stop themselves from sliding into the bubbling water.

“Where’s Ms. P?” I ask, glancing quickly around us.

“There,” Ms. W nods. I follow her gaze backward to see that Ms. P is floating over the water. It looks like she’s going after Ahab’s boat, and Lindsay.

“We have to stop her. But where’s the book?”

“That book?” Samir asks, pointing at the water, where a soaking-wet copy of
Moby-Dick
bounces up, buoyed by a wave.

“Exactly,” Ms. W says, grabbing it from the water. She hands it to me. “I’m going to save your sister and get Ms. P.”

“You have a plan?” Samir asks, hopeful.

“I’m going to lure Moby Dick over here and when I do, you have to capture him in this book, do you understand?”

“What’s this about luring the whale
to
us?” Samir asks, looking unnerved.

“Um, I hate to point out the obvious here, but has anyone
else
noticed that this ship is sinking?” Blade asks, nodding toward the bubbling water, which seems to be eating up the deck.

“Hang on for as long as you can,” Ms. W says. “I’ll be back.”

And with that she floats off in the direction of Ms. P and Ahab’s boat. Ryan is in it, struggling with Ahab. He’s trying to get control of the boat. I feel a swell of pride. Even if I’m over him, it’s nice that he’s on my side. And he sure is fighting hard to save my sister. And for once, I’m not jealous. I’m glad.

I can’t see if Lindsay is awake or not and I can’t see where the whale is, either. I watch as Ms. W grabs Ms. P from behind. There’s a struggle, as Ms. W tries to contain Ms. P and starts pulling her back toward the
Pequod.

“Oh no,” I hear someone behind me cry. I look in time to see a large white hump coming toward us. It’s Moby Dick.

“Um, is this the luring? ’Cause I’m not a fan of the luring,” Samir says.

The ship, which is sinking fast, lurches even farther to one side as water bubbles up along the deck. Caught between the waves and the invisible barrier keeping us in one spot, the ship’s deck begins to crack and break apart beneath our feet.

Suddenly, I’m losing my footing. Heathcliff tries to steady me, even as he’s pushing me farther back in the boat, away from the water. The boards beneath my feet buckle. I throw my hand up to grab something, anything, but all I get is air. I’m sliding backward. As if in slow motion, I watch the first edition of
Moby-Dick
fly right out of my hands and over the side of the ship’s railing, making a little
plunk
sound in the water.

And then a strong hand grabs me—Heathcliff.

“The book!” exclaims Samir.

“I think I can still reach it,” I say, grabbing a harpoon and leaning over the side of the quickly sinking ship. The hook at the end of the pole is just inches from the bobbing book. I can almost reach it.

“Too late,” Samir says, holding on with both hands to the ship’s mast. He nods forward and I see the white whale closing in.

Heathcliff scrambles across the deck and starts gathering together the harpoons that are left on deck.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to save us,” he says.

“At least someone is,” Parker says.

The water along the deck starts moving quickly toward us as the ship lurches even more toward its broken half. I lean even farther over the edge of the boat. I almost have the book. It’s
this
close. Millimeters, even.

Heathcliff grabs a rope and leaps up to the railing of the boat while the ship dips farther down. He steadies himself as the whale circles around what’s left of the ship, then heads for us.

I’ve got a corner of the book under the harpoon’s hook now. All I have to do is pull it in. I can almost reach it.

Moby Dick surfaces near the ship, blowing water high into the air. With a steady hand, Heathcliff takes the harpoon and aims straight at the whale’s eye. He lets the harpoon fly and it hits home. The whale writhes and wiggles, as if trying to shake loose the sharp barb. Then, without slowing down, it flips over and dives deep.

Just as he does, I snag the book.

“Got it!” I shout, lifting it over my head.

And the next thing I know, Moby Dick hits us again with his massive tail. This time, the hull cracks in two. The ship is now breaking into small pieces and sinking fast.

“Jump!” Heathcliff says, grabbing my hand and pulling me overboard. Blade and Samir follow us into the water, where we all land with a cold splash. The frigid salt water stings my eyes, as I try to follow Heathcliff to nearby floating debris. Behind us, the small pieces of the
Pequod
drift apart, some sinking and some bobbing on the surface. Seconds later, barrels of water and a square box that looks a lot like a coffin pop up in the water. Parker manages to swim to it and grabs hold of it.

“I can’t swim!” shouts Samir, sputtering and struggling in the water. Blade reaches him, though, and together they swim to a floating barrel of gunpowder.

Heathcliff points to them and I nod, swimming for another barrel nearby, all the while keenly aware that I’m in the middle of a freezing ocean with a wounded but angry Moby Dick swimming somewhere nearby. I’m clutching the book and trying to swim at the same time, but I’m not going very fast.

The water around me is so dark it’s nearly black and I can’t see anything below about a foot beneath the surface.

I try not to think about being swallowed whole. I am also seriously regretting ever seeing any of those lame
Jaws
movies, because right now all I can think about is the possibility of something chomping on my legs.

The sea swallows the top of the
Pequod
’s mast, the last bit of the ship disappearing under the black water. Debris floats everywhere, but there’s no sign of the whale.

“Where’d he go?” Blade sputters beside me. Samir is clinging to her, his knuckles white.

“Do we really care as long as he’s not
here
?” he points out.

“He’s there,” Heathcliff says, nodding toward Ahab’s row boat, which is about thirty feet from us.