Ruby Redfort Take Your Last Breath

by Lauren Child

  “A tiny man saved me, a miniature diver.” This wasn’t entirely inaccurate; against the colossal size of the octopus he had indeed appeared minuscule. But Clancy was not to know this, and now he was beginning to worry that perhaps Ruby had held her breath after all. Held it a minute too long. Holding your breath was considered a highly dangerous activity, he knew that.

  “You threw me the buckle,” she said, her words singsongy and happy. “Smartest kid I ever knew.”

  Clancy was relieved. OK, so maybe she was just in shock. That would explain things.

  “Ruby, you know you’re all blue?” he said. He looked at her hard, and it all began to dawn on him. Not only was she covered in indigo, but she had probably also swallowed some of the stuff too — drunk on indigo might be the best way to describe her state. He remembered what Ruby had told him about the ink of the giant octopus, the serum. She was blabbing the truth.

  “Where did that Count go?” she asked.

  “He sort of vaporized,” said Clancy. “Not literally, but he suddenly wasn’t there.”

  “He does that,” said Ruby. “Though I’m real surprised he didn’t kill you.”

  “Thanks for being so honest.”

  “I can’t help it,” said Ruby. “I swallowed the ink; I can’t tell a lie.”

  “So I can ask you anything and you’ll answer me truthfully?”

  “Yes.” She beamed.

  “So what next?”

  “We have to get out of here fast or we’ll drown.”

  “What? You’re kidding?”

  “Can’t kid, Clance.”

  “But why are we gonna drown?” Clancy was flapping.

  “The currents are returning. I felt it. The asteroid is getting too far away.”

  “That’s what the Count said.” Clancy was beginning to panic.

  “Any minute now, a giant whirlpool will swirl up and drag us down to the unexplored deep.” The serum had the unfortunate side effect of making the speaker sound happy and relaxed, which was annoying for the person listening, especially when the news wasn’t good. “It happened to my great-great-great-grandmother Martha.” Ruby was smiling. “But she was lucky enough to climb inside an apple barrel.”

  “OK,” said Clancy, trying to keep upbeat. “So we get a bit scratched, grazed even, but we’ll live.”

  “No, I don’t think so, Clance. You see, Martha’s barrel would have contained air, and you need air to breathe while you’re held under by the current, and to be honest even then you might suffocate. I mean, who knows how long we’ll be under?”

  Clancy looked around desperately. “You see an apple barrel anywhere?”

  “No,” said Ruby.

  “Don’t you have any ideas?” said Clancy.

  “Too bad we don’t have the rescue watch; it might have some device that could have saved us,” said Ruby.

  “But we do!” said Clancy, his voice bright again. “We do, the Count returned it.”

  “So where is it?” said Ruby.

  “I threw it at the wall,” said Clancy, pointing toward the furthest corner of the cave.

  “You what? What kind of bozo are you?” She ran to look. “Darn it, Clance!” That part of the cave was filled with supplies, equipment, and demolition tools all left by the pirates. She picked her way through the rocks and rubble.

  “Can you see it?” called an anxious Clancy.

  “No,” replied Ruby.

  “It might have landed in something,” said Clancy. “It sounded like it dropped inside a container of some sort.”

  Ruby looked up from her crouching position to see a large blue plastic cylinder; its lid lay on the ground next to it. Not an apple barrel exactly, but something that might do just as well. She peered inside; it was empty but for Bradley Baker’s watch.

  “You’re a genius, Clance; we might just make it outta here after all.”

  Without further discussion the two of them worked to pull the container out of the debris. The roar of the water was getting stronger, and as Ruby and Clancy climbed into the makeshift barrel, they were aware of the whirling water bubbling over the edge of the rock floor. They fumbled with the lid.

  “Quick, duh brain! We don’t have time for this.”

  “Quick yourself, buster!”

  Finally, they lined it up right and twisted it in place, which was lucky for them because one second later there was an almighty crashing as several tons of water forced their way into the cave, and a half second later the barrel was lifted high into the air before being sucked down, down, down into the eye of the whirling thing.

  “You know we still stand a very good chance of dying!” shouted Ruby merrily.

  THE MAKESHIFT CRAFT WAS SUCKED DOWN into the whirling ocean current, tossed and tumbled by the returning Sibling tide. It seemed to spin and rise and sink and spin, over and over. They might have been underwater for several hours, days even, or just ten minutes, they really couldn’t tell, but it felt like a very long time.

  Finally, the pressure forced the barrel up and out, and they surfaced somewhere to the east of Little Sister rock. Not that Ruby and Clancy were aware of that — for all they knew they could be in the Atlantic or the Dead Sea. The only thing they were sure of was that they were bobbing on the water, a little bruised, very shaken, and slightly queasy.

  “Am I still alive?” moaned Clancy.

  “Yeah, but you look awful. You’ve turned a funny color.”

  “It’s the barrel, bozo,” said Clancy. “It’s making us look blue. Although you already are blue.”

  Ruby inspected her arms. “I guess I am kinda blue.”

  “I hope that ink comes off,” said Clancy, “or your parents are gonna be asking some pretty tricky questions. You do look weird.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly looking picture-perfect there,” said Ruby. “Kinda ugly actually.”

  “Thanks a whole bunch,” muttered Clancy. “Speaking of ugly, what happened to Mr. Darling?”

  Ruby wrapped her fingers around her throat. “Squeezed to death.”

  Clancy shivered. “I guess that octopus got his tentacles on him.”

  “Arms,” corrected Ruby. “They’re called arms.”

  “You’ve been calling them tentacles,” Clancy pointed out. “I heard you say tentacles.”

  “Yeah, but they’re called arms — technically they’re arms.”

  “Could you quit being so pedantic?” said Clancy.

  “I can’t help it. I swallowed the truth serum, I gotta say what’s on my mind.”

  “You always say what’s on your mind. What’s the difference?”

  “Listen!” hissed Ruby. “Do you hear that?”

  “The Sea Whisperer?” Clancy sounded alarmed.

  “It’s a boat, buster!” snapped Ruby.

  Then they heard voices. Two of them.

  “Do you think it’s the pirates?” whispered Clancy. Their container wasn’t spacious enough to flap in, but Clancy’s arms were thinking about it.

  “Do I look like I have X-ray vision?” said Ruby.

  “Well, you certainly look weird,” replied Clancy.

  There wasn’t a whole lot they could do, so they just sat there while they felt the barrel being tugged toward the boat and the boat’s occupants struggling with the lid.

  They breathed in fresh air and looked up at two puzzled faces.

  “Kid, what are you doing in there?” said a familiar voice.

  “Just holding my breath,” replied Ruby, staring up at Hitch. She switched her gaze to the other face and was surprised to see Kekoa. “Hey, how come you’re out and about? I thought you were in the hospital nearly dying?”

  “I figured you’d be somewhere you shouldn’t be,” said Kekoa.

  “You figured I’d be in a barrel?” said Ruby.

  “No,” said Kekoa flatly. “But I tried to call you and your signal was off, so I figured you’d gotten yourself somewhere you shouldn’t be. Listening isn’t your strongest attribute.”


  “I’ll say,” said Hitch. He leaned in and pulled out first Clancy and then Ruby. “Kekoa dragged herself out of her hospital bed and came to find me. She guessed where you’d be, kid.”

  “But how?” said Ruby.

  “I did some reading while I was convalescing.” Kekoa held up a copy of the orange book, The Sea Whisperer. “Not a myth after all. The monster, the wreck, the cave, the treasure, it all began to sound like it could be true.”

  Ruby’s eyes took in the familiar cover and then they focused beyond the book on a man who was standing a little distance behind Agent Kekoa. He was clad in a blue wet suit that had a rip at the shoulder. His face was lined and brown from too many days in the scorching sun.

  “Francesco Fornetti?” asked Ruby.

  He smiled just barely — he looked all out of energy. “Buon giorno, Ruby Redfort.”

  She looked at him hard. “It was you down there!” she said.

  He nodded.

  “I read that book of yours,” she continued. “It was interesting. I thought it was going to be pretty bad, you know, what with the professional ridicule and all, but I was actually impressed.”

  “You speak the truth,” laughed Fornetti.

  “It must have been hard knowing you were right about something when everyone else thought you were a looney tune,” said Ruby. “A madman, a complete ding —”

  Clancy clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Sorry, Mr. Fornetti. She’s drunk a little too much ink and doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. But thanks for saving her life.”

  “Ah, no problem,” said the diver. “It was my pleasure.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” said Ruby, freeing herself from Clancy’s grip. “I owe you one.”

  Francesco Fornetti raised his thumb and forefinger. “Two,” he croaked.

  “How’d ya mean, two?” said Ruby.

  “You owe me two. I saved your life twice. Once before, many, many years ago,” he said.

  “That was you?” said Ruby. “You’re the one who rescues me in my dream, my dream that’s not a dream?”

  He nodded again. “I was sitting on the deck with your parents. You fell into the ocean, on purpose I think; the sea called to you. Your mother had a broken arm, and your father had dislocated his shoulder, but he went to save you anyway, and got caught somehow in the anchor chain. So I dived in and there I saw this incredible cephalopod, this octopus bigger than any octopus I had seen in all my long days, what they call the Sea Whisperer. It had grabbed you. I fought it and to my amazement it let you go. Why, I don’t know. It was a magnificent creature, and one I never expected to see a second time, let alone a third.”

  “But why did my mom and dad never tell me?” Ruby found it hard to believe that anyone could keep such a story from her.

  “I never told your parents about the Sea Whisperer. It was enough, for them, the terror of their daughter so close to drowning in their beloved ocean. I didn’t want to mention a sea monster on top of that.” He shrugged. “So I never breathed a word.”

  All those dreams, thought Ruby. Not dreams at all.

  Clancy looked at them both. He was excited, his whole face bright. “But this is great,” he said to Francesco Fornetti, his arms flapping. “The octopus is real, and you can prove it! You can tell everyone. Now they’ll see that you’re not a nutcase after all. I mean, not a complete crazy.”

  “No, no,” said Francesco, holding up a weathered hand. “That must remain a secret barely even whispered among friends. A creature from the ancient deep deserves to be left in peace. It’s enough I saw her again.” He looked at Ruby. “That you saw her again.” He clearly meant what he said, and there was no point arguing. The Sea Whisperer was a secret that should be held tightly.

  And so Ruby just nodded.

  WHILE HITCH RETURNED KEKOA to her hospital bed, and Francesco Fornetti went back to his boat to rest and dream, Clancy and Ruby returned to Cedarwood Drive. It was around midday by now, and they were hoping to sneak back into the house unnoticed so they could scrub the blue from Ruby’s skin and hide out until the truth serum wore off. Clancy thought this might be a good idea, or things could get very complicated; this was not the time for straight answers.

  Regrettably, though, this is not what happened. They were halfway up the eucalyptus when they heard a voice shout, “Ruby, Clancy, what are you doing out of school?”

  Clancy and Ruby looked down at the three faces looking up. The Redforts were standing there, drinks in hand, and behind them Mrs. Digby was holding a tray of exotic-looking nibbles. Sabina was shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “Get down here right now,” she ordered.

  Reluctantly, they climbed back down.

  Sabina had her hands on her hips and was launching into what would have been a rather long rant.

  “Look at your wet suit — it’s in absolute tatters. Can’t you take care of anything? Is that the one your father and I . . . why are you wearing a wetsuit? Why are . . .” She stopped midsentence, for she had noticed something very strange: Ruby was not looking the right color.

  Brant spilled his drink down his shirt front, and Mrs. Digby said a word considered unsuitable for polite company.

  Clancy was right: it was going to be tricky to explain the blue to Ruby’s folks. Her face was indigo-colored and so were her hands, her arms, and her legs.

  “Heavens, child!” scolded Mrs. Digby. “What in tarnation have you been doing? You look like a giant blueberry.”

  “It’s octopus ink,” said Ruby.

  “What?” said her father.

  Clancy kicked her hard on the shin.

  “I got pulled under by this giant cephalopod,” said Ruby. “It nearly strangled me to death, but then I got rescued by Francesco Fornetti, and Clance and me climbed into a barrel and —”

  “Rube!” said Clancy firmly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Redfort. I think the sun got to her.”

  “Call Dr. Makeland,” said Sabina.

  “But what were you doing?” asked her father.

  “Looking for the Fairbank rubies,” said Ruby merrily. “The Count tried to kill me with jellyfish, but you know what? I found them anyway, and then he tried to kill me with an octopus.”

  “The child’s raving,” said Mrs. Digby.

  “No, better call Dr. Grenveld,” said Sabina. “She’s good with heads.”

  Ruby reached into the small dive bag that was attached to her dive belt and pulled out the most exquisite rubies that Sabina or indeed anyone there had ever seen.

  “The child has robbed Keller’s jeweler’s!” squealed Mrs. Digby.

  “Well, I’ll be darned,” said Brant.

  “Oh, my!” said Sabina. “However did you come by those?”

  Clancy held his breath.

  “Like I said,” replied Ruby. “I found them!”

  IT WAS TUESDAY, and Ruby was looking forward to an evening watching Crazy Cops and stuffing popcorn into her mouth. Her folks were going out to a cocktail party, and Mrs. Digby was joining her fellow poker players in East Twinford; Hitch, who had come up with a plausible explanation for the recent wild events, was in his apartment listening to music. Dr. Grenveld had ordered that Ruby be kept at home for a few days just to make sure that the sunstroke had not caused any lasting damage, and so here she was home alone on a Tuesday night.

  She scratched the husky behind the ears. “I guess it’s just you and me, Bug old friend.” Just what she needed, a bit of downtime.

  As soon as everyone had left the house, Ruby padded over to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of banana milk, piled a plate high with cookies, and set the popcorn popper popping. The telephone in the kitchen rang.

  “Twinford lost property department, how may we assist you?”

  “What?” came the reply. Ruby recognized Mrs. Lemon’s panicky voice. Mrs. Lemon was a very panicky sort of person.

  “Oh, hi, Elaine. It’s Ruby.”

  “Is your mother in?” she asked.


  “Uh-uh,” said Ruby.

  “Your father then?” Elaine Lemon’s voice rose slightly.

  “Uh-uh,” said Ruby.

  “Mrs. Digby, she must be there?” Elaine was sounding like she had swallowed helium.

  “Gone to poker,” said Ruby, munching on a cookie.

  “But you’re there?” said Elaine.

  “I guess I am,” said Ruby.

  Ruby failed to recognize the relief in Mrs. Lemon’s voice and didn’t register what was coming.

  “Is your skin OK these days?” Mrs. Lemon asked.

  “Fine, Elaine. Thanks for inquiring.” Ruby had forgotten about her earlier lie, and in doing so had forgotten one of her rules: RULE 32: TELL ONE LIE AND GET READY TO TELL A WHOLE LOT MORE.

  “Thank goodness,” said Mrs. Lemon. “I need you to take care of Archie. I’ve got this emergency thing.”

  “Ah, the thing is, Elaine . . . I mean, I’m not so great with babies. I’m not really qualified, you know — not for the whole baby thing.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to be! You babysit other kids, right?”

  “Yeah, but not actual babies. I mean I don’t really get them, and they don’t get me.” Ruby was floundering.

  “Oh, you’ll love Archie — he’s a dear, no trouble at all. And it is an emergency.”

  “An emergency? A real emergency?” asked Ruby.

  “Oh, yes. It’s an emergency all right.”

  “Darn it!” hissed Ruby under her breath. What could she do? “OK, I guess, if it’s an emergency.”

  Elaine Lemon was standing on the front doorstep approximately two and a half minutes later.

  “So what’s the deal?” said Ruby as Archie was bundled toward her.

  “Bethany Mule is having a swimwear sale and I didn’t want to miss it.”

  “That’s it?” said Ruby. “That’s the whole big emergency?”

  But before there was a chance for Ruby to deposit Archie back in his mother’s arms, Elaine Lemon was running down the steps, jumping into her car, and backing out of the drive.

  “Oh, brother!” cursed Ruby.

  She called Clancy, but he said he couldn’t make it; his dad was expecting his family to be all present and correct at some ambassadorial party. Del was at a basketball game, Mouse was with her cousins, Red had twisted her ankle and couldn’t even hobble, and Elliot was not answering the phone. She called down to Hitch, but his reply came back, “You’re on your own, kid.”