Creature Keepers and the Swindled Soil-Soles

by Peter Nelson

  “Meet Roxanne,” Syd said, smiling down at the exposed-stone surface. “She’s mostly gneissic granodiorite, cored by a younger porphyritic quartz diorite.”

  “Wow, she’s a real looker, Syd.” Abbie shot Jordan a surprised look.

  “Yep,” he said. “Not too bad for a gal born in the Upper Cretaceous period. Hefty, too! Probably a good million times deep as she is wide. She’s the main vein to the Cascadia Subduction Zone. Cracking Roxanne open would be pulling the emergency cord, if the pressure ever built to megathrust earthquake level. She’s special. And I sure hope I never have to crack her.”

  “Why is that?” Abbie asked. “Aside from the personal connection, I mean.”

  “Because she also makes up a nasty shear zone—see how she runs to the edge and forms a cliff over the water? A major Soil-Sole fracture would break off her entire cliff, setting off a mini-tsunami across Harrison Lake. Would take out Echo Island, Sasquatch Provincial Park . . . wouldn’t be pretty.”

  Abbie stared down at Syd’s huge feet. “Syd, would you mind stepping down off Roxanne’s face, please? Like, verrry slooooowwwly . . .”

  Syd hopped onto the ground. It trembled, but only slightly. “Don’t worry, Roxanne’s a tough old gal. It’d take a very hard, very solid direct hit to crack her.”

  “Let’s say the pressure beneath Mount Breakenridge built to a super-high level, and you didn’t crack her open?” Jordan said. “What then?”

  “It’d likely cause a megathrust. Probably break the North American tectonic plate free from the Pacific Oceanic crust.”

  “And form a new supercontinent?” Abbie asked.

  “Re-create Pangaea?” Syd shook his head. “Nah. All the continents would have to be broken free, and something very powerful would have to push them back together. It took hundreds of millions of years for them to drift and settle where they are today. More likely, North America would sink, or break apart like a saltine cracker, along every fault line it has. Or some combo of the two.”

  Jordan and Abbie stared at Syd. “Anyway, that’s kinda why it’s important I walk the fault line every day.” He looked up at the sun in the sky. “Shoot! I’m gonna miss my show! Race you guys back—time to get our Squatch on!”

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! He thundered off in his Soil-Soles. Abbie tiptoed after him, trying to get him to stop. Jordan was about to run, but suddenly froze. He heard a rustling in the bushes, and peered into the shadows. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he thought of Gusto. He readied himself for anything.

  “That’s just a black-tailed deer, Jordan!” Syd’s voice boomed from across the plateau. “Feels like a male, probably about a hundred eighty pounds!”

  A large buck popped out of the bushes, looked at Jordan, and trotted silently off. Jordan shook his head. “Those are some shoes,” he said to himself. Then he ran across the side of Mount Breakenridge, toward the waiting rope ladder.

  Up on the tree house deck, Jordan and Abbie watched as Syd stepped to the corner by the door and closed his eyes in concentration. Tsssssss . . . The ankle sheaths opened like a blooming flower, although the fragrance was a little different. They unwrapped from his ankles and Syd stepped out, a couple of feet shorter. He walked through the door, grabbed some grubs on his way past the kitchen, plopped himself on the couch, and switched on the television. Abbie followed him in as Jordan lingered outside. He crouched down and peered at the empty Soil-Soles.

  Jordan entered the den to find Syd and Abbie settling in to watch Buck Wilde’s show. On TV, Buck was going through his usual dramatics, creeping through the dark woods, looking back to whisper to his audience his every thought and observation. “I’m picking up a very strong scent here,” he murmured tensely. “It’s a foul odor that I would definitely describe as Stank de Squatch!” He pulled his lasso off his belt. “We better be ready—I think we’re getting close to something!”

  “If it was the inside of Syd’s Stank-Soles, you’d know it, dude!” Abbie yelled.

  “HAW! HAW!” Syd laughed loudly. Abbie smiled up at him.

  “What’s with the lasso, anyway?” she asked. “What’s he gonna do, try and rustle you?”

  “That’s Buck’s thing,” Syd said. “He’s really good with it.”

  Jordan sat down and looked at Syd and Abbie. He felt worried, and anxious, and trapped. He understood now how important it was for Syd to go out and do what he did, but he still had a bad feeling about Gusto. Jordan couldn’t let anything happen to Syd. Not on his watch.

  There was another thing bothering him. Watching Abbie and Syd, he worried once again that maybe he didn’t have what it took to be a Creature Keeper. If this was what creature keeping was all about, basically creature-sitting, Jordan wasn’t sure he could do it. There had to be a better way for him to help.

  Buck was spouting off after hitting another dead end on his show. “That Squatch barely got away from us again, folks,” he said. “But don’t you worry, as long as that varmint is out there, I’ll keep looking for him! He can’t hide from ol’ Buck Wilde forever! And so long as you keep watchin’, I’ll keep searchin’! And together we’ll GIT! OUR! SQUATCH! ON!”

  “NO!” Jordan found himself standing in front of the television, sweating and breathing heavily. Syd and Abbie stared up at him.

  “Dude, are you all right?” Abbie said.

  “Maybe we should all get some shut-eye,” Syd said. “Got a schedule to keep.”

  Jordan woke a little before dawn. He quietly slithered out of his sleeping bag so as not to wake his sister and peeked in on Syd, who was snoring away in his big bed. Then he tiptoed out onto the deck.

  He stood there, barefoot, staring down at the Soil-Soles. Jordan considered carefully what he was about to do. Sure, it might be a little extreme, but desperate times called for desperate measures. This was just the kind of bold action that a truly great Creature Keeper should take, he thought. His cryptid was in danger if he ventured out, but his work was important to the safety of the world. Yes, this was bravery at its best—the kind that would be recognized, rewarded, and respected.

  Jordan hoped that once the Soil-Soles were on his feet and his feet were on the ground, he’d be able to feel what Syd had felt. He’d watched carefully where and how Syd stomped on the ground at the various pressure points. I can do this, he told himself.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then stepped up and into them.

  He felt a coolness surround his feet, then ooze between his toes. It felt alive, and Jordan had to fight the urge to pull his feet out. What stopped him was the strange sensation of them probing and tightening, as if the Soil-Soles were connecting to him. He looked down and wiggled his toes. The large, brown, meatball-like toes wiggled in sync. He watched as the sheath part climbed his ankles, wrapping around his calves. There was a slight pinch as it sealed tightly around his lower calf, then it was over. Jordan was wearing Syd’s Soil-Soles.

  He lifted his leg and felt the odd sensation of wearing something dense and unwieldy, yet at the same time light and completely in his control. It wasn’t a struggle to lift his enormous new feet. They felt like they were filled with helium, as if they were responding to his effort, helping him. He stepped carefully to the center of the deck, then walked to the railing.

  Jordan looked out at the twin sequoias with the scraped-off bark. He remembered how Syd had slid down feetfirst, and knew he had to try. He stepped off the deck, pushing just a bit with his anchored foot. He found that the Soil-Soles gave him more leaping strength, and he reached the tree easily. Not only that, his new feet gripped the bare, barkless trunk tightly. Jordan brought his other foot over and placed it on the other tree. The effect of his feet gripping the trees felt strange, especially as he loosened that grip. It was like a new muscle he’d never used before. Trusting his foothold, he pulled his arms away and steadily slid downward, in complete control of his speed. Reaching the bottom, Jordan gently stepped onto the ground. As soon as he did, a sensation overcame him
like nothing he’d ever felt before.

  12

  The earth was alive, and Jordan was connected to it. It was a surge that came through his feet like electricity, shooting up his body, entering his mind. It wasn’t just feeling vibrations and movements in the ground. It was more instinctive than that. Like a sixth sense, he could almost see what he was feeling, which meant he could separate all the different impulses he was receiving. He quickly understood how, with a little time and practice, he could learn to identify what each vibration was, from a lady with a limp fifteen miles away to a deer hiding in the nearby brush.

  Jordan made his way to the places Syd had stopped. Each step was an incredible experience, introducing new impulses, as some signals faded and others got stronger. He would have been happy standing in one spot with his eyes closed for hours, just feeling everything, but the sun was coming up and he had a job to do.

  He reached a rock outcropping where Syd had tested and planted his massive foot. He felt a slight pressure, almost like a dull pain, which made its way into his mind, like a light headache. He lifted his foot and put it in another spot on the rock. The pressure immediately returned, but in this spot it felt sharper. He actually winced when the throbbing reached his brain. A few more tests revealed the highest pressure point, and Jordan opened his eyes. “Here,” he said.

  He lifted his foot, took a second to concentrate, then slammed the Soil-Sole down on the stone floor. BOOM! CRACK! RUMMMMBLE!

  He looked down. There was a thin fissure beneath his big brown Soil-Sole. He heard a faint hissing, which got louder. He stepped back. HISSSSSSSS! The steam seeped out of the crack he’d made. He placed his foot near the crack. There was no pressure, no dull pain. He stomped off, giggling to himself. “This is so cool. . . .”

  He repeated this exercise at just a few more spots, careful not to get too excited or to overdo it. He remembered what Syd said about Mount Breakenridge being a double threat—not only the tip of one of the biggest fault lines in the world, but also the host of “Roxanne,” a very dangerous sheer cliff that could fall into Harrison Lake and cause some very unpleasant consequences. Before he headed back, Jordan had to check out the massive rock.

  He stood in the center of Roxanne, staring out at the lake that could be turned into a mini-tsunami with just a stomp of his foot. It was an incredibly powerful sensation, so much destruction in his control. Jordan shuddered to think what could happen if that power were in the wrong hands—or in this case, on the wrong feet.

  Everything was still and peaceful as the sky above Harrison Lake began to lighten from dark blue to deep orange. Jordan was about to tear himself away from the beautiful sunrise when he spotted a falling star. As the fiery red streak cut across the sky at an angle over the lake, Jordan realized it must be a meteorite.

  He couldn’t see where it hit the water, but a bright green light flashed across the surface of the lake. Jordan thought he’d better check it out. Beside the ridge was a sloping descent made up mostly of boulders and other large rocks—terrain that would be far too rough and treacherous had he been wearing his sneakers. But with the Soil-Soles on his feet, Jordan felt confident jumping right in and sliding straight toward the water far below.

  He leaped like a snowboarder hopping into a pipeline, and landed on a small boulder. It immediately crumbled under the weight of his mammoth feet, and the rubble caused him to slide down the hill. He skidded faster and faster as the slope grew steeper, pulverizing the loose rocks and rolling along the debris as he struggled to stay on his feet.

  Jordan carved and dredged his way down the mountainside toward a patch of thick trees waiting at the bottom. Caught in a direct collision course with some thick tree trunks, Jordan pushed off with his powerful feet. He soared over the small grove, then hit what was waiting for him on the other side.

  SPLASH! Jordan hit Harrison Lake feetfirst and felt the cold chill of the water surround him as he went under. He kicked his big feet and pumped his arms in an attempt to swim toward the surface. It was no use. The Soil-Soles made his kicking more powerful, but their weight seemed to be pulling him deeper toward the bottom of the lake. He was sinking like a stone.

  Jordan reached down and yanked at the dense, deadly anchors encasing his feet. He clawed at the Soil-Soles in a desperate attempt to free himself.

  Thrashing around, it felt as if the tugging on his feet was growing stronger as he sank. He was losing air quickly, and getting light-headed. Was he imagining the water pulling at his shoes, or was he just sinking more rapidly? It didn’t matter. If he didn’t get them off, he would drown. He remembered how he’d controlled the grip of the Soil-Soles when he slid down the tree trunks, that feeling of a new set of muscles. He tried to relax those muscles. In his mind he pictured the Soil-Soles opening, releasing his feet. Suddenly, he felt the chill of the lake water filling the heavy boots. They had opened, and the water was pouring in. Jordan slipped his feet out, and kicked to reach the surface as the Soil-Soles sank beneath him, into the dark depths of Harrison Lake.

  Jordan burst through the glassy surface and gulped at the cool morning air. As soon as he’d recovered, a horrible feeling overtook him. He took a deep breath and dived back down, swimming as deep as he could, trying to reach the bottom—and hoping to reach the Soil-Soles. But some force was pushing him back up. The more he fought it, the more it was like he had on an invisible flotation device. He was too buoyant, and each time he ran out of breath and gave in, floating to the surface. Exhausted after countless tries, Jordan finally had to give up. He needed to get help, and quickly. He swam back toward the shore with a heavy heart. He’d lost Syd’s Soil-Soles.

  It felt like hours later when Jordan reached the top of the trail. He was wet and shivering and completely wiped out from hiking as fast as he could back up to the flat plateau. Once he got to the top, he couldn’t rest. He used what little energy he had left to sprint across the flat land to the grove of giant sequoias that held Syd’s tree house. He had to let Syd know what he’d done as fast as possible.

  He saw the hanging rope ladder, unrolled from the deck above. He stopped and looked around. Abbie, and possibly Syd, must have come down looking for him.

  “Abbie!” he yelled out. “Syd!” There was no answer. He couldn’t go looking for them. He needed dry clothes, and he needed to tend to his aching bare feet. They’d return soon enough. And when they did, he’d explain everything. Jordan reached out for the bottom rung of the hanging ladder and began climbing.

  The ladder jerked. Jordan looked up. He could see Abbie peering over the deck rail. He could make out Syd’s big furry arms, slowly turning the crank. As he was lifted, Jordan clung to the ladder. His body slumped with exhaustion. The higher he rose, the closer he got to Syd, and the worse he began to feel.

  He’d done it again, he thought. Rather than figure out a way to work with the others, he recklessly went about it on his own, just as he did when his recklessness led Gusto to destroy the Fountain of Youth elixir. It seemed no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to be a Creature Keeper, he always found a way to mess things up.

  As he reached the top, Syd lifted him through the trapdoor. The look on his face made Jordan’s heart sink.

  “Jordan,” he said softly. “What have you done with my Soil-Soles?”

  13

  “Syd. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  Syd looked a little scared, a little confused, and very concerned. “Just tell me where they are, Jordan. Where you last saw them. So I can get back on schedule.”

  “In the lake,” he said. “Just south of Roxanne’s cliff. But listen. There was something strange. About the water—”

  “I’m going out to get them,” Syd said, stepping toward the trapdoor. “And you two are staying here.”

  Before Jordan and Abbie could react, Syd dropped through the trapdoor, grabbing hold of the bottom rung of the rolled-up rope ladder. WHIZZZZZZ! He flew down, the ladder slowing his landing a bit, but still slammin
g him hard on the forest floor. The impact also pulled the upper end of the ladder right off the wheel. It sailed down after him, landing in a pile on the forest floor hundreds of feet below. Jordan and Abbie were stranded in the tree house.

  They watched helplessly as Syd ran off across the forest floor, toward the cliff overlooking Harrison Lake. Jordan also noticed something about Syd’s tiny feet.

  “Was he . . . wearing my sneakers?”

  “Jordan, do you know how dangerous that was? What were you thinking?”

  Jordan stormed into the den. Abbie followed him inside and watched as he grabbed his backpack and began cramming his things into it. “I screwed up again,” Jordan said.

  “So you’re leaving? We’re Creature Keepers! We can’t leave our creature!”

  “We aren’t doing anything. I’m leaving; you’re staying. I watched you with him. You’re good at this. I’ll just mess things up. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.”

  “This is crazy. Where will you even go?”

  “I have to find Eldon. He’s the one we need to fix everything.”

  “So you’re off to Brazil. With no shoes. Great plan.”

  Jordan looked down, then back up at his sister. “What size foot are you?”

  “Forget it.”

  WUMP! BUMP-BUMP!

  A clamor on the roof grabbed their attention. They ran out onto the deck and looked up. A lanky, gray, slightly furry winged creature was fluttering overhead. In his arms he held a portly old woman wearing a motorcycle helmet.

  “Doris!” Jordan exclaimed.

  “Kriss?” Abbie blushed.

  “Your landings are terrible!” the old woman yelled at the winged cryptid. “Three thousand miles, easy as pie, then you nearly kill us trying to land on a roof? Set me down! Gently, now.”