“Ah, but we have heard the stories!” cries Maddie.
“Brrr.” Earl pretend shivers.
“Well stated,” adds his twin.
Magic, Mama Inez reflects. It works in so many ways. Then, from her right side, B.J.’s voice says, “We’ve been talking about this since we got here.” He waves his hand at Wink and Nodia, who are standing a short distance away. “We’re sure we’ve seen you before,” and he waits, expectant.
“I do manage to get around,” Mama Inez says with a chuckle in her voice.
B.J. laughs. “Ah. Nicely put. And your dog?”
“Has the most uncanny ability to show up in the strangest places,” she says. And she smiles. “And how is your boat?”
“Ha!” B.J. crows. And “Yes. Like I said,” he calls to Nodia and Wink. Wink nods wisely, and B.J. reaches out to shake Mama Inez’s hand before he goes to tell his story.
The Cabeza River Run
“MOST OF YOU WILL remember that old nursery rhyme about Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.”
Nodia, standing at the tent flap, looks up, a quick tilt of her head, then leans over and whispers in Wink’s ear. Wink laughs. The rest of the audience waits.
“If this seems like a strange way to start, just keep it in mind while I tell you a story. Legend or coincidence?”
B.J. hears Nodia snort, pretends that he doesn’t, and keeps talking.
“On the night in question, our boat is close enough to the Cabeza that we can get her into the water with some judicious pushing and pulling. It’s also far enough away that she’s not visible to the casual passerby—or floater-by. We want to keep some secrets secret until the River Run. After all, design ingenuity is a big point category.
“The three of us circle the boat, and each looks with a different eye.
“‘Bad design’ is what Wink says, because he is always, always, the critical eye. I’m stung. I feel a sore spot, just what I would feel if I’d been bee bitten. But this sore spot is in my heart. After all, the WoSho is my design. Which, of course, means that I think she’s brilliant.
“‘Wink, you’re doing it again,’ Nodia says in the offhand way that shows that she’s just barely paying attention to her cranky brother. ‘Being negative. Try the positive-thinking thing. B.J.,’ she adds without a pause, ‘do you think I got your line right here?’ Nodia taps the prow. She’s the builder, and that’s the eye she’s using right now.
“‘I tried to get the curve in your blueprints, but it was a difficult piece of work.’
“I pretend to look carefully at the area her fingers indicate, but here’s the thing. I’m the brains. I do great designs. Really. But then, when I look at the finished product, too much of the time I have trouble matching what I put on paper to what comes out in three dimensions. So I look, and I wrinkle my brow, and I try to act like I’m thinking hard. I can’t see a thing that looks wrong, but I’m afraid that Nodia can. I try to figure out what she sees that I might be missing. I try to come up with the exact right thing to say. Next to me, Wink mutters, ‘Is it even going to float?’
‘Of course she’ll float.’ Nadia says. She watches Wink with her clear builder’s eye as she says, ‘She’s watertight. Her seams are double sealed. I’ve triple-checked.’
“Wink walks once around the WoSho, all the way around. He stops in front of me and says, ‘You knew this question was coming. You knew I’d have to ask. And I hate to live up to your expectations, but there it is. I still have to ask. Why is this boat shaped like a shoe? I was under the impression that we were trying to win the race this year.’ He makes the word ‘win’ sound big and important. And it is. But beauty and imagination have their place as well.
“‘I was inspired,’ I say. ‘I looked at a clog and I saw a boat. Even you have to admit that’s a stroke of genius.’
“‘I’ll admit it’s a stroke of something,’ Wink says.
“‘The curves mimic waves and should slide through the water. The bounce in the sole should take us through that rapids stretch by Sabine’s Farm. The raised toe hoists the mast higher than normal to catch even more wind without adding extra length and extra weight.’ I beam at him.
“Wink just shakes his head and asks, ‘Will we all fit?’ “‘Measurements say so,’ Nodia says. ‘Math never lies.’ When Wink looks at her, no expression on his face, she gives in a little and says, ‘It’s roomier than it looks.’
“‘Give it a try,’ I urge.
“Wink swings one long leg over the side. For a second he’s lopsided, half of him two feet taller than the other half. Then his other leg is up and over and he’s standing inside, taking in the view from the boat.
“‘Hmpf,’ he says after a moment.
“‘I was right, wasn’t I?’ Nodia looks smug.
“Wink doesn’t answer, just sits down on one of the bench seats and wiggles his butt into it, getting comfortable.
“‘So?’ I ask.
“‘So—you two climb in with me. Let’s try it the way we’ll really run the race.’
“I should say here that the Cabeza is a wild river with a bank that moves in and out on itself; a river that’s almost schizophrenic in its turns, from calm and flat as a dinner plate to jig-dancing waters. I should also tell you that every year, at the summer solstice, there’s a nighttime race down the Cabeza. You may have heard of it. It’s quite famous. People come from everywhere.
“But getting down the river in record time, in one piece, with wind, spilled moonlight, and cunning, that’s not all. As I said before, there’s design ingenuity.
“With the WoSho, I thought we’d be grabbing high marks in all categories.
“Nodia and I climb in with Wink. I, being the designer and therefore the captain, take the helm seat. That’s when I see that Nodia has carved a good-luck totem inside for all of us. ‘Nodia,’ I cry, ‘it’s Eileen!’
“‘Yes. The finest cat. And we all know how she loves sailing. I’m sure she’ll want to go with us, but she’s her own cat, too, and just in case she needs to be somewhere else during the solstice, I thought we should have her with us in spirit.’
“And that, of course, is the exact moment that the long grasses by the Cabeza rustle and there Eileen is, sleek and striped, her eyes reflecting the moon.
“‘Come on, then, climb in,’ says Wink, and she does, settling down beneath her image as if she’s requested this part of the design herself.
“Nodia fiddles a bit with the rudder. Wink, who will navigate, stretches his long legs as if he’s still checking the roominess of the WoSho, and looks in all directions. I touch the rigging for our sail. Eileen purrs.
“‘Comfortable enough?’ I ask, and even Wink agrees that the WoSho seems to be a very serviceable craft.
“‘So,’ Nodia finally says. ‘Test run?’
“I look to Wink for confirmation. He eyes the nearly full moon. I can almost see the calculations going on in his head. One of the rules of the River Run is: No timepieces. Everything is based on the moon, the connection with the solstice, the twenty-third hour of the longest day of the year. Wink is trying, I know without asking, to make this test as close to the real thing as possible. He answers Nodia’s spoken question and my unspoken one. ‘Yes,’ he says.
“We all get out, except for Eileen, who curls into an even tighter cat ball, and we push. We pull. We correct our course. And finally, we’re on the bank of the Cabeza.
“One last shove and the WoSho is in the water. She bobs in a contented way, bow curved toward the sky. I squish through the wet river reeds and climb in first. Wink and Nodia follow. A few adjustments with the sail, a flick of the rudder, and we’re off.
“The water gleams like rippled silver. The nearly full moon paints its double in the exact center of the Cabeza. The breeze coming off the water smells of cattails, duckweed, and freesia. I make another slight adjustment to the sail, and it’s then that I notice what looks like a tight, smooth patch, sewn with stitches so clean and neat that they look as if they we
re made by the fey creatures that, in all the handed-down tales told at bedtime, are believed to live in small enclaves up and down the banks of this river.
“‘Nodia?’ I ask over my shoulder. ‘What’s this on the sail?’
“Nodia leans slightly. I know because I can feel the WoSho respond to the shift in weight. I wiggle my fingers at the place with the stitching, on the lower right side of the sail.
“‘Oh. That. I forgot. Mrs. Oldalvi made that.’
“Mrs. Oldalvi. New to town. Long dark hair, red scarves with flashing mirrors, and magic fingers if word of mouth from far away is to be believed.
“‘Made the sail, right,’ I agree. ‘I knew that. But what’s this?’ My fingers wiggle again.
“‘That’s what I meant. She put that patch there, too. When I went to pick up the sail, it got caught on a rough spot on her counter. It’s such a fine fabric that it tore the smallest bit. She did the patch while I waited. I’ve seen other sailmakers, haven’t you?’ This must be a rhetorical question, because she keeps talking without waiting for an answer. ‘But she was amazing. I could barely see the thread against the cloth. Can you tell what she stitched?’
“Wink rustles a river chart behind me, and coughs a little cough.
“‘Umm…’ I lean forward and jostle Eileen, who looks at me, her eyes half closed. If a cat could sigh in disgust, that’s what she’d be doing. ‘Sorry,’ I say to her, and I shift both myself and the sail. Then I see it. ‘Oh! The evening star.’
“‘She knew she was making a River Run sail.’
“‘You told her?’ Wink asks. He sounds shocked. ‘After all our secret planning?’
“Nodia sighs. ‘Of course not. She just knew. She said the star patch would give us an edge.’
“I touch it. ‘An edge is a good thing.’ To the patch I say, ‘Work, please.’
“Wink coughs again, and says, ‘B.J. I’ve just found something.’
“‘I hope it’s something nice.’
“‘I suppose that depends on your definition. This year the rapids at Sabine’s seem to have spawned a twin.’
“‘Is this one of those river jokes?’ I ask. ‘You know, Knock, knock? Who’s there? Rapid. Rapid who? Rapid…?’ I sound nervous, I know. Rapids don’t sound nice to me. Not at all.
“‘No, B.J. And, just as an aside, that sounds like it was shaping up to be a lousy joke.’
“‘So ‘spawned a twin’ means just about what I think?’ I’m still hoping this might turn out to be an example of Wink’s often freaky sense of humor.
“‘Well, yes.’ Wink sounds disgusted, with me or himself I don’t know, and also embarrassed. ‘There seems to be a brand-new set of rapids about a half mile along. And it looks, on this map, like there may be a whirlpool, too.’ He says this like he’s saying something that just might be in bad taste in mixed company.
“I turn and look at him, and I’m sure he can see the white all around my eyes. ‘Do you think you might have mentioned this a bit earlier?’
“‘Well, to be honest,’ he says in a quiet voice, ‘I didn’t really look till now.’
“‘I didn’t hear that,’ I say, and fine, I admit it, I shout, even though I’m convinced now that Wink’s disgust and embarrassment are with himself for being lazy, for not doing his homework. I don’t bother to tell him that Nodia and I did what we were supposed to do. That even Eileen did her part, by stalking the banks of the Cabeza and looking for dangerous fish. Now Eileen lifts her head again, looks up at me, wary, and sends a nervous look in Wink’s direction.
“‘Gentlemen!’ Nodia shouts. ‘We’re here. It’s there. Let’s be proactive and concentrate on getting through. The WoSho feels good and solid. She’s riding like a champion. We’ll be fine. If,’ she finishes, ‘we concentrate.’
“Eileen meows, a very positive meow, and curls her tail around to her nose. No matter what the situation is, Eileen always agrees with Nodia.
“If Eileen can sleep, if Nodia is confident, everything’s got to be under control. I work on getting the feel of the WoSho and try not to think about whirlpools. The wind is behind us, the sail catches it, Mrs. Oldalvi’s star seems to glow in the light from the overhead moon, and we’re moving along at a nice clip.
“All of a sudden I hear voices carried on the breeze. Probably someone else out for a late secret test run. I can’t see them, so they can’t see us, which is just fine with me. But, as I said, I can hear. Shrieks. Hollers. With a fine-edged sense of panic attached.
“‘Whirlpool,’ Wink says, and he sounds breathless. I know he’s worried.
“I am, too.
“‘Better to take a look now than to see it for the first time at solstice.’ This is Nodia talking. And she sounds so calm and reasonable that, for the second time in the space of a minute, I let myself relax. ‘We’ll be judicious,’ I say.
“The Cabeza picks up speed. The moon’s reflection wavers. Mrs. Oldalvi’s evening star glimmers just like the real stars spattered above us and reflected below. The stars, their reflections, and the star on our sail—all look like dancing shards of pure white glass. It’s peaceful. It would be much better if I weren’t sweating about rapids and whirlpools, but for right here, right now, everything is joining together like a perfectly partnered dance, and I’d be a fool if I couldn’t appreciate it.
“Then we round a curve, and there’s the ruffle of rapids being pulled into the whirlpool. Whoever was yelping is gone. A good sign. Or a bad one. Either they made it through with no damage, or they were sucked down and are trapped in the river underneath us.
“Wink echoes my thoughts. ‘They’re gone. That’s good. As long as they made it through, of course. Otherwise, they’re sleeping with the fishes down below.’
“‘Wink!’ Nodia screams. ‘Stop being so melodramatic. Let’s all just concentrate!’
“Eileen is peering over the side. Her moon-reflecting eyes are wide, and for the first time she seems to be doubting this whole adventure.
“‘Try cutting it to the left; then, after that series of bouncy ripples, go hard right,’ Wink calls.
“And I try. I really do. I can feel Nodia working the rudder like mad. But the WoSho has a mind of her own. She heads straight for the whirlpool, on a ninety-degree intercept course.
“We bounce and bump over the first series of waves. The WoSho bucks a bit, like a worn-out horse, but she still feels solid. Only the smallest bit of water comes over the sides. Then we’re spinning, wide, flat circles that get tighter and sharper as we move closer to the center. And suddenly, just like that, the bouncing and bumping, the twisting and twirling, stop. Everything goes smooth, and I can feel us all breathe out in relief.
“Until, from the back of the boat, I hear Nodia say, ‘Uh, B.J. Look down.’
“I do, and when I do, I swallow three or four times, hard. The reason everything has smoothed out is now quite obvious. We’ve left the Cabeza, and we’re airborne.
“‘This,’ Wink says in a flat voice, ‘should not be happening. This should not be possible.’ He slaps me on the shoulder, harder than necessary. ‘I told you this was a bad design for a boat.’
“‘Maybe you should have looked at the map before you got in the boat.’
“‘Maybe you should have built something that acted like a boat,’ he counters.
“‘Maybe,’ Nodia calls from the back, ‘we’ve just seen a little of Mrs. Oldalvi’s edge. Some of that reputed magic.’ And she laughs, a clear, carefree sound.
“Eileen is leaning forward, her neat little front paws on the starboard side of the WoSho. She’s so far over the edge that I grab and hold tight to the polka-dot bandanna she likes to wear. Edge or not, magic or not, I have to keep my crew together.
“I look up. We’re surrounded by ebony-blue sky and cut-glass stars. We’re much closer to the moon. I can see the face of the rabbit in the moon that I’ve heard about, although tonight there’s a distinct dog look to that rabbit.
“The night air is co
ol, and smoother than any water I’ve ever sailed on.
“I can’t help it. I’m grinning in pure happiness when I look back at Wink and Nodia. ‘Boat design, edge, magic, whatever. The WoSho is making one fantastic airship.’
“Nodia laughs again. She’s looking as relaxed as she would be if she were swinging in her hammock. Even Wink is beginning to smile, a slow, lazy smile.
“We dip and curve. The WoSho takes care of everything, and our flight seems to go on forever. We can see the Cabeza below us, and the WoSho follows its curving course. Then Nodia says, ‘We should fly over Sabine’s Rapids,’ and without any other input, the WoSho does a gentle skid to the left.
“‘Did you see that?’ I yell. ‘Did you see that turn? I didn’t do a thing! She heard you.’
“Nodia pats the WoSho and croons, ‘Good boat,’ and Wink says, ‘Thank you, Mrs. Oldalvi.’
“We see, in the distance, the boat that must have crashed through the whirlpool before us. It looks like the whirlpool took a bite out of it. It’s listing to port. But we’re just fine. We act like little kids. We reach up and try to touch Orion’s belt. We wave at the Seven Sisters. We call to the rabbit-dog in the moon, and act as if he’s going to answer. We issue commands, and the WoSho responds like we’ve been working together for years. The tiny star on our sail glows with the same clean moonlight as the stars above us.
“Our flight seems to go on forever. But even something magically good has to come to an end. Of her own accord, the WoSho comes down, close to where the finish line for the River Run will be in less than twenty-four hours. She settles back on the Cabeza with the barest of ripples, and a tiny splosh.
“Wink, Nodia, Eileen, and I sit quietly in our resting ship. The WoSho bobs on the water as if she’s dancing a slow waltz. Peace and contentment spread over us like a favorite quilt.
“‘Well,’ Nodia finally says, which could mean anything.
“‘Yeah,’ Wink agrees. ‘Absolutely.’
“Eileen purrs and pats her totem.
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