Read The Boy with 17 Senses Online

Authors: Sheila Grau

The Boy with 17 Senses (17 page)

BOOK: The Boy with 17 Senses
12.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Jaq couldn't answer. He had a huge lump in his throat. He looked down and blinked rapidly. Then he kicked the ground and continued for home.

“Hey, he's just a dumb animal,” Bonip said. “That bratty kid probably feeds him twelve times a day. Don't take it personally.”

“Why shouldn't I?” Jaq said. “I raised him! I gave him my bed, my blanket, and most of my own food. And now he acts like he doesn't even know me. Just like you did. I'm sorry, but I do take it personally. What's wrong with me?”

“There's nothing wrong with you,” Bonip said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Jaq just shook his head.

“You wippers are right,” Jaq said. “I'm a funny-looking loser. Davardi's right—I'm just a stupid kid. And Tormy's right—I'm a coward and I have no friends.”

Bonip hopped up onto Jaq's shoulder and punched him on the cheek. “You're pretty good at turning off the noise on Earth,” he said. “You need to do it here, too. Why are you
listening to wippers, swindlers, and brats? Why are you letting them decide who you are?
You
need to decide who you are, or who you want to be. Nobody can decide who you are but you.”

“I can't pretend to be brave when I'm not,” Jaq said.

“You
are
brave! You went back to Earth even though you knew it was filled with giants.”

“I also let Tormy steal my chicken. I didn't fight at all, and they took Grandpa away!”

“How could you fight them? You were outnumbered eight-to-one. By grown-ups!”

Near the gate, Jaq picked Bonip off his shoulder and placed him on the ground. “You probably don't want to be seen with me.”

Bonip looked up at him. “Jaq—”

Jaq waved his hand and went inside.

Back at the Vilcot farm, Klingdux was still struggling to get out of Tormy's grasp so he could chase after Jaq.

Inside, Jaq's mother greeted him with a hug.

“No glug?” she asked Jaq.

Jaq shook his head. “It turns out it's fool's glug. It will turn to dust in a couple of days.”

She slumped back into her chair. “I just don't know what else to do. I don't know how we can save the farm.”

“How's Grandpa?”

“Still in jail. Vilcot told me he'd drop the charges against Grandpa if I sold the farm to him.”

“What did you say?”

“It was funny, actually. I wish you could have been there. I told him that Grandpa is very happy in jail. They feed him there, and because of his age, he doesn't have to do any work. I thanked Vilcot for his offer but declined.” She even laughed. “I thought he was going to spasm with rage. I have a feeling he's dropping the charges right about now.”

Jaq smiled. He looked out the window at the fence that separated their land from the Vilcots' farm, with its tall, healthy trees just dripping with fruit. But in front of the fence, on the Rollop side, there was nothing but dusty, barren land.

“It doesn't matter,” Jaq said, giving the wall a frustrated kick. “We're going to have to sell this place, aren't we?”

“Yes.”

“And Vilcot will buy it, won't he?”

“Yes.”

“Where will we live?”

Mom had no answer for that.

Jaq gave her the chocolates he'd brought back from Earth, and for a brief moment they were happy.

“I wish I hadn't made you sell Klingdux, Jaq,” his mother said, drifting off to sleep. “Oh, Jaq, I dream of being able to buy you all the things you want. Wait, no. Then you'd be a spoiled brat like that Tormy Vilcot. Let's say I dream of being able to buy you one or two of the things you want. Because I love you and you're a good kid.”

She was asleep before he could answer.

24

PLAY THAT PURPLE SONG AGAIN

T
he next morning, Jaq's mother got up early to go to work. Jaq thought she looked so tired; the burden of saving their family had worn her down. After she left, Jaq decided to skip school. He was too distracted to pay attention to anything anyway.

He stood on the back porch, gazing at the fields. His family was going to lose their farm. It might be small and difficult, but it was theirs. The one-room shack was theirs. He knew the feel of the soil, the earthy-woody smell of his ripweed field, and all the familiar sights—the amber fields, the trees growing by the
dry riverbed, with their brown trunks and parchment-colored leaves, the caramel and cream-colored hills beyond the river.

He didn't want to lose it all, but there was no fighting it now. Even if he rescued Plenthy, even if Plenthy told mean, old Vilcot that Grandpa hadn't stolen his money, it wouldn't give them money to keep their farm.

Still, he
had
to help rescue Plenthy. Nobody deserved to be trapped on Earth.

Jaq sat on the back porch and listened to the songs on the iPod, but none of them painted a clear picture like that other song had. The songs were all Grande Taco Salad Supreme. Not a single Salad Bar in the mix. There were blasts and swirls and smells, but they gave him a random mishmash of senses. An explosion of red pops coupled with . . . the smell of cut grass? The music made no sense.

And then, as he tended his side garden, the hose dripped some water onto the iPod and it stopped working altogether. No matter how hard he pushed on the buttons, nothing happened. What kind of people made something that broke after a little water touched it? That was ridiculous! And now Fiona's gift was worthless to him—not only was it broken, but he hadn't been able to find the song he wanted.

Frustrated, Jaq picked up a rock and threw it into the field.

“Hey, fat-foot.” A sharp voice emerged from the stalks. “Where are the worms, huh? We're hungry over here.”

“The Vilcots moved the river,” Jaq answered. “My worming spot has dried up.”

“So walk a little farther and find a new one,” another wipper said. “How lazy can one guy be? Jeez.”

Jaq got up to go back inside. He didn't have to take this abuse anymore.

“You'd be slow and lazy, too,” another one said, “if you had to drag around that enormous head.”

Laughter filled the air, until . . .

“Hey, cut it out.”

Jaq turned around. Bonip had crept out of the stalks and stood in front of the insulting wipper.

“What did you say, Bonip?”

“You heard me, Drixo. I said: Cut . . . it . . . out. Why are you picking on him? Can't you see he's miserable? This guy has been getting us worms for months, and all you do is insult him. That's mean.”

Jaq couldn't believe it. Nobody had ever stuck up for him before. Not here, not at school, not anywhere. He wanted to reach down and hug the little wipper.

“Mean?” Drixo said. “Me? I'm the nicest guy here. Just
yesterday I helped Egbot clean out his nest. He didn't even ask me to.”

“That's not how it works,” Bonip said. “You can't be mean all day, and then just because you do one nice thing that makes you a nice guy. A nice guy wouldn't say a cruel thing, ever. Not one mean thing, not ever. You, Drixo, are not nice. I'm not nice, either, because I turned my back on that giant fat-foot when he needed a friend. But I'm going to stand up for him now. And if that makes you guys hate me, then hate me.”

“What's going on?” Another wipper peeked out of the stalks. Jaq recognized him as the ringleader of the bunch.

“Nothing, Hedgemud,” Drixo said.

Bonip didn't say anything. None of the other wippers said anything, either.

“Well, I'm feeling like we gotta go next door,” the wipper leader said. “I just scouted over there. Nice, rich soil. We may have to dig a bit harder, but I bet there are worms over there. Plus, I feel this crazy tug pulling me in that direction.”

Contagion by Mention
, Jaq thought.

“Okay, let's go,” Drixo said. The wippers quickly scurried off toward the Vilcots' farm.

Bonip looked up at Jaq. Jaq smiled and nodded toward the fence. “I don't have any food for you here,” he said.

“You want me to help you get back to the waterfall later?” Bonip asked.

“That's okay,” Jaq said. “I can make it. Thanks, though.”

Bonip nodded and crouched down, compressing his back legs. And then he took off like something shot from a catapult. Those wippers could almost fly, they jumped so far.

After the wippers left, Jaq got to work collecting foot scrapers. As he hunted for the diamonds, he thought about Bonip's plan. He knew it was logical, but a little part of him couldn't help but think that he was a coward for staying on Yipsmix. Then he remembered how frightening it was to go through that wormhole. And what, exactly, could he do if he went through with the diamonds? Nothing.

He piled a small mound of diamonds on the porch. The stupid rocks were so worthless, Jaq had no idea how many Fiona would need. He'd found all the ones that were close to the house.

He had just returned from the old riverbed with two huge rocks when his mom arrived home early from work. Jaq followed her inside, where she collapsed into her chair.

“They fired me,” she said. “I made too many mistakes because I've been so tired.”

“Oh no,” Jaq said.

She got right back up again. “But I'm not giving up, Jaq. I'm going to the bank to see if I can get a new loan and get Vilcot off our back. Will you be okay here alone?”

Jaq nodded.

“I'm not giving up,” she said again.

But before she could reach the door, the ground started to shake. Thumps rocked the house, and the air shimmered with flashes of light. Jaq and his mom stepped outside and saw the Vilcots riding their Arbians up to the front door. Jaq looked up at them, perched so high on their mounts.

“I'm here to inform you that you must vacate the premises by tomorrow,” Ripley Vilcot said. “I've purchased your loan from the bank, and I'm foreclosing. Don't know why I didn't think of this sooner. You have one day to pay what's owed or vacate. Please be gone by tomorrow night.”

Jaq and his mom were too stunned to say anything.

“By nightfall,” Vilcot repeated. He took something out of his pocket. It was another key, just like the one Jaq had traded for Klingdux. “And you can give this to Greggin,” he said, throwing the key at Jaq's feet. “Tell him that his friend is not getting the last laugh with his little mocking gifts.
I
get the last laugh.”

He rode off laughing.

25

BOOK: The Boy with 17 Senses
12.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Chosen by Chaim Potok
Journey into Violence by William W. Johnstone
Joyce's War by Joyce Ffoulkes Parry
Swallow This by Joanna Blythman
Jasper John Dooley, Left Behind by Caroline Adderson, Ben Clanton
Making Trouble by Emme Rollins