Whale of a Tale

by Eric A. Kimmel

  Text copyright © 2019 by Eric A. Kimmel

  Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Lerner Publishing Group

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  KAR-BEN PUBLISHING

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

  1-800-4-Karben

  Website address: www.karben.com

  Additional image credits: Dimitris66/Getty Images (sea foam); Savushkin/Getty Images (old paper).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 13/20.

  Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Kimmel, Eric A., author | Stevanovic, Ivica, illustrator.

  Title: Whale of a tale / by Eric A. Kimmel ; illustrated by Ivica Stevanovic.

  Description: Minneapolis : Kar-Ben Publishing, [2019] | Series: [Scarlett and Sam] | Summary: Scarlett and Sam go back to ancient Israel, where they find themselves on a ship with Jonah, who is determined not to be a prophet.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018033354 | ISBN 9781541522169 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541522176 (pb : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Time travel—Fiction. | Jonah (Biblical prophet)—Fiction. | Brothers and sisters—Fiction. | Twins—Fiction. | Jaffa (Tel Aviv, Israel)—Fiction. | Nineveh (Extinct city)—Fiction. | Bible Old Testament—History of Biblical events—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.K5648 Wg 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018033354

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-44400-34661-11/26/2018

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: Checkmate

  Chapter 2: Downtown

  Chapter 3: Carpets for Sale

  Chapter 4: Row, Row, Row Your Boat

  Chapter 5: Jonah’s Story

  Chapter 6: Stormy Weather

  Chapter 7: Shark Week

  Chapter 8: Nineveh or Bust!

  Chapter 9: Welcome to Nineveh

  Chapter 10: Seismic Events

  Chapter 11: Danger Zone

  Chapter 12: The Gourd

  Chapter 13: Home Free

  Chapter 1

  Checkmate

  Scarlett nudged a pawn one space across the chessboard. She sat back with a big grin on her face. “Now you’re in trouble,” she told Sam.

  “Where?” Sam didn’t believe her.

  “Take a look. The bishop.”

  “No!” Sam exclaimed. “No! That’s not fair! I didn’t see that coming.”

  “That’s what chess is about,” Scarlett told him. “I believe you’re finished. Checkmate.”

  Grandma Mina bustled around the kitchen, shuffling pots and pans between the stove and the oven. As usual, she had several dishes going at the same time. She glanced over at the kitchen table where Scarlett and Sam sat. “Checkmate, eh? Do you know where that comes from? It’s Farsi. From Iran. Shah mat! It means ‘the king is lost.’ Helpless. Abandoned. That’s what it means.”

  Sam studied the board. “My king’s not finished yet,” he told Scarlett. But if there was a way of saving him, Sam couldn’t see it.

  “Wasn’t chess invented in India?” Scarlett asked Grandma Mina.

  “No. It was invented in Iran!” Grandma Mina’s family had lived happily in Iran for many years until a new government began to persecute the Jewish community, forcing Grandma Mina’s family to leave. She was very proud of her Iranian heritage and considered herself very much an Iranian.

  “Want me to reset the board?” Scarlett asked Sam. “We can have another game.”

  “No! I’m not done yet.” He searched the board, looking for a solution that just wasn’t there. That’s when the telephone rang.

  “One of you please get it! I have my hands full in here,” Grandma Mina called from the stove. Scarlett picked up the phone. She listened.

  “It’s Mr. Dihanian from the carpet shop. He wants to know where you are,” she called across the kitchen to Grandma Mina.

  “Ay! I was supposed to bring the carpet down to his shop this morning to have it cleaned! I forgot!” Grandma Mina wailed. “I can’t go now. I’m getting dinner ready.”

  “No problem,” Sam said, still studying ways of eliminating that deadly pawn. “Tell him Grandma will bring it next week.”

  “Can she bring it down next week?” Scarlett asked Mr. Dihanian. She listened, then turned to Grandma Mina. “Mr. Dihanian says he’s leaving for Istanbul on a buying trip. If you can get the carpet to him today he might be able to work on it over the weekend and get it back to you before he goes. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait till he gets back. That might be in a couple of months.”

  “I’m stuck,” Sam finally admitted. “I guess it really is checkmate.” He pushed over his king.

  “I’m stuck too. Shah mat for me as well,” said Grandma Mina.

  “Maybe not,” said Scarlett. “Why can’t Sam and I bring the carpet to Mr. Dihanian for you?”

  Grandma Mina laughed. “How are you going to get it there? You’re not taking my carpet on the bus!” That carpet was the most precious treasure Grandma Mina owned. It had been in her family for centuries. The carpet was said to have magical powers. That may well have been true. The ayatollah’s police in Iran had confiscated everything the family owned. They even made Grandma Mina hand over her wedding ring. But for some strange reason they had left the carpet alone. As Grandma Mina told the story, it was as if they didn’t see it, as if the carpet was invisible.

  “We won’t go on the bus. We’ll take a car service,” said Sam.

  “What’s a car service?” Grandma Mina asked as she stirred the soup.

  “It just started in town a month ago. It’s called Loft,” said Sam. “It’s an app on your cell phone. You open the app and enter where you want to go. Mom and Dad use the service. They let us put the app on our phones in case of an emergency. If we need to get home and they can’t pick us up, we open the app and call a car,” said Scarlett.

  Grandma Mina shook her head. “Cars come out of the air. You pay for them out of the air. People used to say that the stories in the Iranian Nights were fantastic. No more fantastic than what’s going on today. Who needs a lamp and a genie when you have happs and a cell phone?”

  “Apps, Grandma. No h,” said Scarlett.

  “What are the Iranian Nights?” Sam asked.

  “I think she means Arabian Nights.”

  “Tell Mr. Dihanian I’m sending you two down to him right now with the carpet. How long do you think it will take? You have to be back in time for dinner.”

  Scarlett spoke into the phone, relaying the message to Mr. Dihanian. “Sam and I are bringing the carpet now.”

  She hung up the phone and turned back to Grandma Mina. “It won’t take us long. Maybe about an hour.”

  “Probably less. We’ll drop off the carpet and have the car bring us right home,” said Sam. He and Scarlett took the carpet down from the wall and carefully rolled it up. Scarlett and Sam were always glad to help Grandma Mina. Despite what Grandma Mina thought, dropping off her carpet at Mr. Dihanian’s was no big deal. They were happy to help.

  How long could it take?

  Chapter 2

  Downtown

  Contrary to what Grandma Mina expected, the young man who came to pick up Scarlett and Sam looked completely ordinary. Red flannel shirt, jeans, close-cropped hair, and a beard.<
br />
  He was polite, friendly, and helpful. He knew where Dihanian’s carpet shop was. “Across the street from the library, right?” He opened the back of his red car and helped Scarlett and Sam put the carpet inside.

  Grandma Mina fluttered around like a mother robin guarding her nest. “There’s nothing that could stain my carpet? You don’t carry any paint back here. Motor oil? Grease?”

  “No, ma’am.” The young man assured Grandma Mina that his car had recently been cleaned inside and out. He didn’t transport paint, motor oil, body fluids, or nuclear waste. Satisfied, Grandma Mina switched to directing how the carpet should be put into the car.

  “Careful now. That’s it. This carpet’s very old and very delicate. It can’t handle rough treatment. Neither can I.”

  Scarlett, Sam, and the driver carefully eased the carpet into the back of the car as if they were placing a critically injured person into the back of an ambulance. They did have to lay it out at a diagonal and lift it up at the ends to make it fit, but not enough to upset Grandma Mina. She watched every step of the operation, finally nodding her approval when the carpet was safely inside.

  “Be careful closing the back door!” she said. The young man knew better than to slam the hatchback down. He lowered it slowly, making sure no end of the carpet was caught as he pressed it down. The latch clicked into place.

  Scarlett and Sam piled into the back seat.

  “Be back before five,” Grandma Mina said.

  “We’ll be back before three,” Scarlett assured her. Meanwhile, Sam introduced himself to the driver.

  “I’m Sam.”

  “Hi, I’m Jon,” the driver said as he pulled out of the driveway.

  “Short for Jonathan?”

  “Not exactly. Short for Jonah.”

  “Have you been driving for Loft long?”

  “Not too long.”

  “What did you do before?” Scarlett asked.

  “That’s a long story,” Jon said.

  “What?”

  “It’s like this . . .” Jon talked as he drove. He was a careful driver, stopping at red lights and stop signs, observing the speed limit, and signaling when changing lanes. They were soon on the freeway, heading for the bridge and downtown. “I had this job that I really loved. Really, really loved. Then one day my boss asked me to do something that I just couldn’t do.”

  “Something illegal?” Sam asked.

  “Nope. Nothing like that,” said Jon. “In fact, most people would say it was something good. But not for me. I just couldn’t do it. So I did the only thing I could do.”

  “What was that?” Scarlett asked. “You quit?”

  “No,” said Jon. “I wish I could have quit. That wasn’t one of the options in my line of work. I ran away. I’m sure the boss is looking for me right now. He’ll find me one day. I know that.”

  “Then what?” asked Sam.

  Jon shrugged. “Who knows? He’ll try to make me do what he wants me to do. He’ll make it rough for me if I don’t. I don’t care. Like I told him before, I’m not doing it. That’s final.”

  “Gosh,” said Sam. His curiosity was thoroughly aroused. “Are you sure you can’t even give us a hint?”

  “Nope,” said Jon. “And do me a favor. After I drop you off, forget you ever met me. It will be better for all of us.”

  “Why?” Scarlett asked.

  “Never mind,” Jon said. “We’re here.”

  ***

  Traffic was blocked on the street next to Dihanian’s carpet shop. A truck driver was delivering crates of soft drinks to the Mexican restaurant on the corner. Jonah asked Scarlett and Sam if it would be okay for him to drop them off by the library since it was going to be hard for him to find a place to pull over.

  “I really don’t want to hang around here too long,” he said. “You never know who’s watching.”

  “I get it,” said Sam, although neither he nor Scarlett really got it at all. Sam and Scarlett got out of the car. Sam shut the door. He and Scarlett waved goodbye to Jon as he drove off through the traffic.

  “That was weird,” Scarlett said.

  “I wonder what his boss wanted him to do.” Sam tried to imagine what it might be, but couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t right out of an action movie. He and Scarlett crossed the street to Mr. Dihanian’s shop.

  “Hi, Mr. Dihanian!” Scarlett said as they came through the door.

  Mr. Dihanian stared at them. “Where’s the carpet?”

  The full horror hit them. It was still in the back of the car. Talking about Jon’s mysterious troubles had caused them to completely forget why they had come downtown in the first place.

  “YAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

  Scarlett and Sam ran out of the shop, tearing down the sidewalk, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red car.

  “There it is!” Sam yelled. But when they got close, they saw a blonde woman at the wheel.

  Where could he have gone? Scarlett asked herself.

  “He could have gone anywhere. Maybe we can contact Loft and find out,” said Sam.

  “How?” said Scarlett.

  Sam fumbled with his cell phone. “The app’s up. They have a ‘contact’ button. Should I try it?”

  “Sure. Answer a bunch of questions, and someone will get back to you tomorrow. Maybe. We don’t have time for that, Sam. We have to find that carpet, or Grandma Mina will serve US up for dinner.” Scarlett looked up and down the street. A red car suddenly made a U-turn.

  Scarlett grabbed Sam’s arm. “Could that be him?”

  “Maybe,” said Sam. “He’s got the turn signal on. We’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s head him off.”

  Scarlett and Sam ran into the middle of the street, waving their arms.

  “Stop! STOP!”

  Cars swerved to avoid them. Horns blared. Drivers leaned out their windows to yell. A tour bus came barreling down at them. They saw the driver talking with the tourists. Didn’t he see them in the street? It didn’t look as if the bus was going to slow down.

  “Scarlett!” yelled Sam.

  “Sam!” yelled Scarlett.

  And then . . .

  Chapter 3

  Carpets for Sale

  “Get out of the way? What’s the matter with you? You’re blocking the road!”

  Scarlett and Sam, huddled together, opened their eyes. They were still in the middle of the road, but it was like no road they had ever seen before. It wasn’t paved, just covered with dust and dirt. And while there was plenty of traffic, there wasn’t a motor vehicle in sight. There were plenty of mules, donkeys, and people walking around without paying too much attention to traffic lights and stop signs—mostly because there weren’t any.

  “Are you going to get out of the way, or are we going to stand here all day, staring at each other?” There went that angry voice again. Sam looked up and found himself staring into the broad face of an ox.

  “I didn’t know an ox could talk!” said Sam.

  “They don’t. It’s that guy.” Scarlett pointed to the man standing beside a cart that an ox was pulling. He had a long, black beard and an odd-looking felt cap on his head. He wore something that looked like a long T-shirt that came down to his knees, belted in the middle. On his feet were rough-looking sandals laced up with string.

  “Well?” the man demanded.

  “We’re moving. We’re moving,” said Scarlett, pulling a still-bewildered Sam out of the way.

  The ox let out a snort. The cart moved on with the man grumbling all the while, “. . . just stand in the middle of the street . . . block traffic . . . you think everybody has all day . . . nobody’s in a hurry . . .”.

  Scarlett and Sam found a quiet corner under an awning next to a man selling dates.

  “Want to buy some dates?” he asked them.

  “No, thanks,” Scarlett said.

  “I’ll make you a good deal. Two minas for twenty shekels.”

  “No, thanks,” said Sam.

  “A camel load
came in yesterday from Palmyra. They’re really good. You won’t find sweeter dates in all of Jaffa.”

  “Jaffa? Is that where we are?” Scarlett asked. She and Sam knew enough about Israel to recognize the name of the main seaport.

  “Where else? If we were in Tyre or Zidon, we’d be speaking Phoenician. Not that it’s much different from Hebrew. The Phoenicians have been good friends and allies for many, many years, since the days of King Solomon.”

  Scarlett and Sam looked at each other. From the way the date seller spoke, King Solomon must have lived a long time ago.

  “Solomon was a great and wise king,” said Sam. “He made Israel a great nation.”

  “We could sure use him now.” A woman selling pita bread out of a basket joined the conversation.

  “Israel isn’t doing well?” Scarlett asked. The date seller and the pita seller both laughed.

  “Not doing well? It doesn’t even exist. There is no Israel.”

  “What do you mean,” Sam asked.

  “Where are you two from? Don’t you know any history?” the pita seller asked. “The people in the north couldn’t get along with the people in the south. So they set up their own country: Israel. It didn’t do them any good. They still fought and quarreled with each other and all of their neighbors. Finally, the Assyrians came along. They flattened the land and took everyone as slaves. There is no more Israel. The rest of us are barely holding on.”

  “Who are the Assyrians?” Sam asked.

  “Imagine all the plagues of Egypt rolled together,” the pita seller told him. “There was still an Egypt, even after the plagues passed through the land. But the Assyrians leave nothing behind. Israel was once a prosperous country. Now it’s a wasteland. And they’ll be back.”

  Scarlett felt her stomach begin to hurt. “If Israel is gone, this is . . .”

  “Judea. That’s what we call ourselves now,” said the date seller.

  “And your king is . . . ?” Sam asked.

  “Ahaz,” the pita seller told him. “You don’t want to tangle with him. He may be Solomon’s descendant, but he sure isn’t wise.”