Chapter 10
Meeting Pip
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The last three days of school before the two week vacation break seemed to last a dry eternity. Ms. Tavish introduced a new subject, urban geography, and told her class that she wanted them over vacation to try to observe how Aurelia was patterned: where the shops were, the housing, the transportation system. Perhaps it was interesting at some level to know how Human and Gracchus cities and towns were similar, but it was hard to pay attention during beautiful spring weather a few days before vacation. And Friday was worse. If a stranger had been observing the class on Friday, he would have thought that the students had some sort of compulsion to check the clock every few minutes.
No one was paying much attention to books. Tom saw Cassia Birnbaum staring out the windows with a glazed look in her eyes. Shasta and Wooly were passing notes until one of them was intercepted by Ms. Tavish. Even Luis didn't seem intent on getting ahead of everyone else.
Ms. Tavish too seemed happy as she dismissed school. "Have a good break, class. Don't forget absolutely everything you've learned."
Not only was Friday the last day of school before break, but it was also the last day of Luke's and Tom's home detention. Tom had made the case, successfully, that the detention ended on a Friday afternoon because that's when it had started, not at the end of the day.
After school Tom, Abby, Luke, Sara and Luis went to the House of Ice to celebrate.
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Full of ice cream and good thoughts, Luke, Tom and Abby walked home. Luke dropped off his stuff at his house and continued over to the Ellsworths' to talk about vacation plans with Tom.
Abby, sure that the boys were going to talk cars, went outside to the courtyard. This afternoon was golden and beautiful, warmer than it had been, and she was tired of being cooped up inside.
Wilson decided to go outside, too. The gray cat meowed at the door to the courtyard, and it silently opened for him. The interior doors were programmed to allow Wilson to come and go as he pleased, the fulfillment of a cat dream. The doors to the street, however, would not open no matter how much he yowled. Everyone had heard the rumors that some lost pets actually had been eaten. Dad had pointed out that this was no different from Earth.
Abby sat on the edge of the courtyard pool and let her mind drift. Maybe she'd re-read some of her Nancy Drew mysteries. Abby wondered if perhaps Sara would like to be a detective, too. They could practice tailing people. Abby would like to find out more about her mysterious neighbor, the man who ran around catching rabbits at night.
Idly, she saw that something had disturbed the fish. Probably they were just startled by her. Abby leaned back on her arms, closed her eyes and drowsed in the lazy sunshine.
Abby was abruptly brought back to life by a stealthy tentacle that extended out of the pool and wrapped around her wrist. Abby shrieked like a train whistle.
Tom and Luke came through the door like prize sprinters.
Abby was gulping for breath, unable to speak, but she pointed a dramatic finger at the pool.
"What!?" Now that Tom could see that his sister wasn't actually being murdered, he was impatient. "Abby, what is it?"
"There's a monster in the pool and it tried to drag me in!" Abby sobbed.
Luke and Tom peered eagerly.
"It's Pip!" Luke said. "Poor guy. I think you really scared him."
"I scared him!?" Abby was outraged. "What are you talking about? Who is Pip?"
"See, he's over there in the shadow of the fountain. He's gone sort of gray with white spots. The white spots means he's still scared," Luke pointed.
Abby and Tom looked, and Tom was first to make out a small octopus in the shadows. His body was no larger than a grapefruit, and his two large eyes were staring back at them.
"Look, Ab, it's an octopus!" Tom was thrilled.
Luke made a loud clicking noise with his tongue and trailed his fingers in the water. Pip made a tentative move towards him.
"Did you put an octopus in our pool?" Abby said. She was indignant, sure that the boys were playing a practical joke on her. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her body.
"No, no, Pip came over from our pool. I thought you knew about the octopusses-- octopi, I mean-- when you asked me where to buy fish. The fish is food for the octopus when he visits."
"Oh. So that's why Gruben kept saying that the fish are good food. Good food for the octopus, he meant," Tom realized. He bent down to the water for a closer look at Pip.
"He's probably been here lots since you moved in, but if you don't know he's here, he can be hard to spot," Luke said. "They can change color like a chameleon."
"What do you mean, he came over from your pool? Is he your pet?" Abby asked.
Luke laughed a little, still dangling his fingers in the water as Pip continued to make slow progress towards him. It seemed to Abby that the creature was watching her closely.
"I don't think that anyone could say that an octopus is a pet. They're more like people who come over to share your house once in a while," Luke said. "Almost all the courtyard pools are interconnected so the octopuses-- octopi, that is-- can come and go. And the entire system is connected to the Blue Pearl Sea. Didn't anyone tell you?
"It's quite a compliment when an octopus reaches out of the water to touch you, they almost never do that," Luke continued. "He must have liked the way you look."
Abby didn't much feel complimented. But now that Pip had come completely out into the light, he didn't look too threatening. In fact, he looked kind of cute in a slimy sort of way. Maybe having an octopus in the courtyard was okay. A new thought occurred to Abby. "That map we saw at the fish store, 'Wet,'-- that showed all the connections between the pools, didn't it?" she asked. Abby stepped closer to the pool.
Luke nodded. "Right. And traditionally, different neighborhoods carry different kinds of fish in their pools. Didn't you wonder why Gruben was showing you a map? He had to know where you lived before he could sell you the proper fish."
"Plus, like I said, he kept telling us that the fish was good food. It's just….when so much is different, it's hard to tell what you don't know," Tom remarked.
Pip had reached Luke. Luke slowly reached down into the water and ran his fingers over Pip's head. To Abby's and Tom's amazement, the octopus lost his white spots and turned a dark blue.
"He turned blue," Abby breathed.
"That means he's happy," Luke said. He continued to gently touch Pip.
"Can I touch him?" Abby had done a complete about-face. How could she have been scared of such a cute little thing?
"Sure. Just go slowly, no quick moves," Luke said.
Abby sat back down again and leaned over the water, extending a hand into the pool. The octopus drew back a little, then moved sideways and approached her. Pip reached out one of his eight tentacles, touched her fingers, then darted away a short distance, squirting water. He repeated this a couple of times.
"I think he's teasing you," Luke said.
Abby laughed, blue eyes alight.
"Once you've lived here awhile, you think of them differently," Luke said. "They're really smart."
"How smart?" Tom asked. He wanted to touch the octopus, too. Tom wiggled his fingers underwater.
"Even smarter than a dog," Luke said. "Different, though-- How do you measure intelligence in a species like this? They live in a completely foreign place, underwater, almost nothing in common with Humans or Gracchus for that matter. The ancient Gracchus considered them to be divine messengers and there were all sorts of laws protecting them. They still consider killing an octopus to be close to murder."
"But we eat octopus, don't we?" Tom asked. Pip was staying by Abby, ignoring Tom.
Luke nodded soberly. "I've heard that when the Gracchus knew that Human eat octopi, they were disgusted and some of them wanted to break off all contact with us."
A
bby was by now a complete convert. "Eat an octopus? Yuck!" Pip allowed her to touch his head. She was fascinated to see that he had turned a darker shade of blue and had a kind of striped pattern on his head.
"Why are there octopusses on Gracchia?" Abby wanted to know.
"You mean, why do both Earth and Gracchia have the same animal?" Luke said. Abby nodded.
"A lot of the sea creatures are similar between the planets, especially some of the older species, like sharks. I think all the planets have sharks. Both Vannevaria and Nawak have a kind of octopus, but all the Aeris have is squid. I've heard that squid are smart, but they're really shy and won't have anything to do with people."
Abby had a further question. "How do you know Pip is a boy?"
Luke shrugged. "Pip, Pippa. I've never had to buy a present for Pip, so it hasn't seemed important."
"Well, I think Pip is a girl," Abby announced. Tom rolled his eyes. When they had adopted Wilson from the animal shelter as a kitten, Abby had been convinced he was a girl kitty up until Wilson had been neutered.
They stayed out in the courtyard until Dad came home and Luke had to go home for dinner.
The next day, Abby noticed that most of the fish were gone from the courtyard pool, and so was Pip. She'd have to ask Luke if he'd seen her dear little octopus and if he knew when Pip would be back.
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That evening, Macready had been invited over for dinner. Knowing of his good friend Oliver's predilection for healthy food, Macready brought over an enormous gooey confection from the Theobroma Café for dessert so they'd have a balanced meal.
Usually, Dad didn't inflict his healthiest dishes on guests, but Macready was like family. Still, the vegetable lasagna would have been pretty good without the repugnant little squares of tempeh, Tom thought. Tempeh was like a stronger version of tofu for those who didn't find tofu awful enough. He mushed as many of them as he could into his napkin. If they had a dog, maybe he could have slipped it some of the tempeh. Wilson was a great cat, but he was too sensible to eat anything that hadn't had a pulse at one time or another.
"Macready, have you seen the Bonebreaker Race?" Abby asked over dessert. Tom, Luke and the other kids at school had been talking about it.
Macready swallowed a mouthful of chocolate cake and said, "Seen it? I've been in it! Great fun."
"You've been in it?" Tom was excited.
"There's a group of us, the MAFM, we decided last year that it just looked like too much fun to not be in the Bonebreaker Race. We're the first Human team."
"The maffem?" Abby asked. Was this like the Mafia? Not Macready, surely.
"The M.A.F.M. The Middle-Aged Fat Men," Macready explained the acronym.
"But you're not fat," Abby said. "Not very," she added, fairly. Macready was just a big man, barrel-shaped, more like the Nawak than anything.
Dad choked on his cake. Tom thumped him on the back until Dad could take a sip of water.
Macready looked over Oliver with a bright eye. "Steady on there, Ellsworth.
"In fact," he added casually, "I'd like to ask your father to join the MAFM. You don't have to be fat, necessarily. The Middle Aged Fat Men is a group of us who have reached a certain age of enjoyment in life. Expansive, open spirits: in a word, fat. We've had a Gracchus join us, too, though she can’t make it this year.”
"Dad, you could be in the Bonebreaker Race!" Tom said. This was great.
Oliver took another long drink of water. "The kids have told me about this race, but I'd like to hear about it from a firsthand source. What's it like?"
Macready shrugged. "Everything you've heard is true. It's a parade that also happens to be a race. It helps to have a sense of humor. No, that's not true: a sense of humor is essential. We could use that lawyerly brain of yours on some of the riddles, Oliver."
"Could I be on your team?" Tom asked Macready eagerly.
Dad shook his head. "Carr Whipple has told me that he won't allow Luke to participate until he's fifteen. I think that's a good rule of thumb. If we're living on Gracchia then, you can be in the race."
"Sorry, Tom. The law has spoken," Macready said.
"Then you should be on a team, Dad," Tom insisted.
"Well…"
"Is Ms. Tavish in the race?" Abby asked.
"Last year she ran one of the checkpoints," Macready said. "Plus, the checkpoints give aid to the racers if needed, bandages, food, water, that sort of thing."
Oliver thought for a moment. "All right. But keep in mind I'm not exactly in fighting shape, either."
Macready laughed and patted his comfortably full stomach. "Fortitude of the heart is more important than of the body. You'll do just fine, Ellsworth."
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Before he left, Macready had a private word with Abby.
“Still practicing the throwing technique?” he asked her.
Abby nodded. “I throw pretty good all the time now. It’s hard sometimes to find things to hit, though. I wish we had a punching bag.”
“As long as you remember to carry through. Like you really mean it.”
Abby nodded again. Macready had taught her to hit, really punch something, if she ever needed to defend herself.
More than two years ago, right before he’d left for Graccha, Macready had come to the Ellsworths’ house for a farewell dinner. Mostly, he and Dad had talked about old times, and Tom had asked lots of questions about aliens, but Abby had remained uncharacteristically quiet.
Abby was small for her age, and one of the big girls in her class had been picking on her. That day, the girl had shoved her down on the playground. It was done so cleverly that it looked like an accident, but Abby knew. She also knew that things would only get worse. So that evening, she hadn’t felt much like talking.
Abby didn’t think that anyone had noticed, but when dinner was over, Macready said, “Oliver, mind if I ask your daughter to give me a tour of your backyard? I’ve a notion to get a piece of land on Gracchia, and I need ideas.”
If Oliver had thought there was anything odd about his old friend getting landscaping tips from a nine year old, he didn’t let on. “Sure, let me turn on the back porch light for you.” It was only seven o’clock, but evening came early in the fall.
Outside, Macready asked Abby about the names of the different trees. She knew most of them; the apple and the cherry were easy, and there were oaks, ash (the one tree Abby could never remember), and maple with its beautiful fall colors, too. Abby pointed out the pine tree where the robin had made her nest that spring.
After a while, Macready asked, “So why so quiet at dinner, young Ellsworth? Is your Dad’s cooking getting you down?”
Abby laughed a little, then said, “There’s a girl at school.”
“And she’s bothering you?”
Abby told him how she had been pushed down. “She tripped and shoved me, but it just looked like I fell down by myself. I didn’t want to be a crybaby, either.”
“Ah.” They walked on for a few minutes, then Macready stopped and kneeled in front of Abby, his palms extended toward her. The night was completely dark now, and the only light came from the back porch. Their shadows were long and sharp on the grass.
“Hit my hands, hard as you can,” he instructed her.
“Hit you?” Abby was startled.
“Hit me. Do it.”
Abby drew back her right fist and punched his palm. Macready seemed to have barely felt it.
“Again. This time with your left.”
This hit was even weaker than the first.
“I thought so. Young Ellsworth, you hit like a girl.”
“But I am a girl,” Abby protested. For some reason, she felt like she might cry.
“And a very pretty one, too. But that doesn’t mean you have to hit like one,” Macready informed her. “First, we’re going to teach you how to throw.”
And so, Macready taught her
how to throw a ball. Abby had thought that she knew how, but he told her she didn’t.
“When you throw, you’re throwing from here.” He pointed to her elbow. “You have to throw from your shoulder and carry through. Don’t just fling the ball, child, aim it, don’t let your arm stop after you’ve thrown it, just let it flow through.”
Oliver looked out the window and saw his old, scarred Army buddy playing catch with his daughter with one of Tommy’s old softballs.
After about fifty throws, Abby thought her arm was going to fall off, and she still wasn’t throwing the way Macready wanted her to.
“Bring your arm back, let it flow forward. Throw it hard,” he said.
Abby’s mind seemed to shut off. The ball balanced in her hand, and then it was as if her arm were no more than an unconscious instrument. She didn’t think, she just threw, and it launched like a rocket right towards Macready. It made a sharp smacking noise on Macready’s hand. Abby stared in surprise.
“That’s it! Do it again.” Macready tossed the ball back to her.
Abby fired it again. It flew smooth and true.
Of the next dozen throws, some were really good, and some were just okay, but Abby knew what it felt like to throw. Macready had been right. She hadn’t known how.
“Now, hit my hand again. Follow through, just like when you’re throwing the ball, and pretend like you’re trying to hit something behind my hand.”
Abby threw a punch with her right fist that landed a solid blow on Macready’s palm
“Good! Now put your shoulder behind it.”
Abby did. This one rocked Macready back on his heels.
“Excellent! I’d say you know how to hit. Pretty good for a girl,” Macready smiled.
“If you need to hit someone, hit here,” Macready stood and gestured to his midsection, “right below the ribcage. Directly into the solar plexus. It’ll knock the wind out of him and leave him wondering what day it is.”
Abby smiled. Then she stopped. “But violence is wrong. The teachers say so. Besides, I’ll get in trouble if I get in a fight.”
Macready kneeled down again so his face was level with hers. “It’s better not to get in a fight, it’s true. And never, ever start one. But if someone else makes you fight, take her out, hard and clean. Don’t get angry, just defend yourself and get out. Understand?”
Abby nodded.
“What’s this bully’s name?” Macready asked.
“Tracy Bulworth.”
“Next time you see Tracy, look her straight in the eye and say to yourself, ‘I don’t want to fight, but you’ll be sorry if we do.’ Got that?”
“Yes. I’ll remember.”
“It’s possible she won’t mess with you. Bullies recognize strength, and it scares them. But it never hurts to be prepared.”
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So Macready and Abby had a special friendship. Happily, she hadn’t needed to use her newfound hitting skills against the dreadful Tracy Bulworth. Macready had been right. Knowing she could defend herself made all the difference Abby’s attitude, and that time at least, she hadn’t had to fight. From time to time, Abby did try to practice hitting; usually she just punched her pillow. But it was also very useful to know how to throw better than almost any other girl her age.
Besides being happy to see Macready because he was her friend, he always brought over something good for dessert.
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Far Travels, The Gracchian Adventures, Book One Page 10