by Rob Harrell
There was a pause before the prince replied. “Wait . . . THAT WAS YOUR PLAN??? Get eaten too? BRILLIANT WORK, EINSTEIN!! Now we’re BOTH dead!”
I was too distracted by my cramped, bumpy trip down the esophagus to pay much attention. Now I knew what a wad of chewed-up food feels like.
The breath was being squeezed out of me, and I was worried I might black out—when I was dumped into a slightly larger, squishier area.
I flipped on my flashlight. There were huge bits of fish and beanstalk leaves floating around in the liquid—this had to be the stomach—and then I spotted the prince’s feet. Roquefort was rolled up in a huge piece of leaf like a little prince-urrito, which explained why he couldn’t see or move.
I unrolled him as quickly as I could, ignoring his complaints.
Unwrapped, Roquefort started chewing me out for being a moron—until I held up the enormous thorn I’d smuggled in.
Time for a disclaimer: I cannot claim that no sea serpents were injured in our escape. I’m sure there are some of you out there who looove man-eating demon-fish. Maybe you belong to some group that protects bloodthirsty, ocean-dwelling monsters.
All I can tell you is that I did what I had to do. I took that thorn and jammed it into the creature’s stomach like I was drilling for oil. Then we, along with the rest of the contents of the stomach, lurched forward violently as the serpent came to a screeching halt.
Together we dislodged the thorn so I could cram it into the side of the stomach. There was a muscular convulsion around us, along with a stomach grumbling that threatened to burst my eardrums.
I stuck the thorn in once more—and that did the trick.
Now, I could sugarcoat the truth and tell you the creature sneezed and blew us out in a big puff of air—like in cartoons. But let’s be honest. Our serpent blew chunks—us being some of the bigger chunks.
Everything in the stomach started frothing and churning around violently, and then came the yarfing.
There was nothing comical or easy about it. It was violent and scary and disgusting, and we were shot backward up the throat like we were on the world’s worst waterslide.
We shot out of the nose, snapping both of our air hoses.
I looked back and saw the serpent, its face scrunched up in pain and a nasty slice on its nostril where the thorn must have shot out. Just before it took off, it looked over and saw us. Surprise and anger registered in those big eyes.
Then it was gone—probably in search of some first aid and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
Water began pouring into our suits, and I started fighting to get out of mine. I took a huge breath and popped off my helmet. I kicked the suit off and headed toward the surface for some air.
When I got high enough to see the surface, the waves looked rough and sparkly like rain was hitting the water.
The storm had hit.
• 10 •
MAKIN’ WAVES
I broke onto the surface and into a nightmare. Huge waves were everywhere, and the rain was coming down in torrents. As soon as I was swept up one side of a wave, I got smashed down the other, catching blasts of salt water up my nose. I twisted around, looking for the boat, pushing my soaked hair and ears out of my face.
I was launched up a steep hill of water, and at the wave’s crest I was able to see the boat.
It’s weird how time slows down in crazy moments like this. It’s like your brain is going so crazy fast, everything around it seems to be standing still.
I saw the boat drifting away and getting pounded by the waves. I heard the engine trying to start. Chester was at the back, working frantically on one of the motors, and I heard him yelling to Trunk. “Try it again! Again!!”
Then I went flying down the other side of the wave. I had a split second to wonder where the prince was before I was hurtling to the top of the next wave. The boat was already another ten or fifteen feet away. Kevin was at the back railing with binoculars. (How he wasn’t passed out in the fetal position will remain a mystery for the ages.) Then he spotted me and yelled as loud as he could.
I was smashed back down and shot back up, and what I saw this time took my breath away. Kevin had one round lifesaver around his waist and another in his hand, and he was diving from the side of the boat in my direction.
I forgot about the prince, the waves, the lightning . . . everything except getting to Kevin. I put my head down and swam like I’d never swam. Swum? Swummed? Whatever.
The waves were at least ten feet high at this point, so it was a bit like body-surfing on a roller coaster.
I was swimming so hard with my eyes closed that I didn’t see Kevin until I crested a wave and slammed headfirst into him. I slipped into the extra lifesaver and saw a combo of crazy fear and relief on his face.
We had to yell to be heard over the storm. Kevin was full-on freaking out, and I couldn’t blame him one bit. “The boat! Engines are flooded! Chester’s trying to fix ’em!”
I nodded and noticed on the next wave that I could barely make out the shape of the boat through the rain.
Kevin sputtered, burped, and coughed up about a gallon of water.
I looked around the best I could, then shook my head. “Don’t know.”
We both scanned the area until the rain started coming down even harder. I could barely see Kev’s snout a few inches away from my face. We both put our heads down and held on tight.
* * *
I’m not sure how long the storm lasted, but it felt like days. When the rain and waves slowed and finally let up, there was no sign of the boat or the prince. We were completely alone. No land in sight. Just water, water, and more water. I floated there, worrying myself sick about Chester and Gramps. I kept picturing Gramps yelling back at the boat “What’s going on?” and tried not to start crying.
A while later, the sun came out and started drying us. Kevin spoke for the first time in hours.
I let that sink in for a bit. “Any elf in particular?”
Kevin thought about it. “Not one we know. Maybe a Keebler elf.”
I let out a small laugh without raising my head.
A few hours went by before we spoke again. We just drifted, feeling the sun slowly turn us into beef jerky. Once, I thought I heard a boat engine, but it turned out to be some kind of bug.
When I spoke, I sounded like a desert goat with a mouth full of sand. “Have you looked around lately?”
Kevin’s voice was a croak. “I opened my eyes about two hours ago. Wasn’t anything to see. Just water. And I think I’m too tired to lift my lids now anyway.”
“I hear that.” The thought crossed my mind that we were floating shark bait, but I wasn’t about to mention that to Kevin.
I must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because I dreamt I was lying in my bed and a huge Muck Beast was licking my toes.
I could feel the tongue moving slowly. Slurrp. Shhlurp. Shhh. Shhhhh.
Then I was awake. I could still feel something dragging against my toes, but the sound had changed. I bolted upright.
“KEVIN!!”
We were a few feet off of a beach, my toes dragging on the bottom and waves shushing quietly onto the shore. As Kevin woke up, I stared at several huge palm trees against the blue sky. Kevin turned around and screamed. “LAND!! WE’RE NOT DEAD!!!” Then his eyes grew wide as I pulled us in.
“Wait, we’re not dead, are we?? How would we know??”
I walked up onto the sand, fell to my knees, and face-planted.
Kevin crawled up beside me and collapsed on his back. “Yeah, well . . . the day isn’t over yet.”
• 11 •
LANDED AND STRANDED
After a while, we both sat up and took a look around. The beach curved out of sight in both directions, and I couldn’t see much past the line of trees at the top of the beach.
I sto
od up and started knocking the sand off of my shorts. “I’m not sure, but look at this place. There’s probably a five-star resort on the other side. We’ll be in hammocks sipping Shirley Temples before you know it.”
That got Kevin on his hooves, though he grumbled as he brushed himself off.
We started walking along the beach, looking for signs of life. We’d only walked five minutes before I got the sense that this island was tiny—and maybe ten minutes after that we were back at the spot where we’d left the lifesavers. Dang.
Kevin was starting to get twitchy (he does this sometimes), so I suggested we go up into the trees to see if there was a natural spring or something. The wooded center of the island looked pretty dense, with palm trees, flumpfruit bushes, and snarly vines—so who knew what we’d find.
We were almost to the tree line when a clump of bushes started shaking in front of us. Whatever was in there was a lot bigger than a muck rabbit or a squirrel. (Unless you count Mustachioed Mongo Squirrels, but they’re mostly found in the northern kingdoms.)
Kevin yelped and stumbled back a few steps.
The fronds rustled a bit before they parted and Prince Roquefort jumped out.
“You’re trespassing on Roquefort Island! Drop your weapons!”
I groaned and relaxed my shoulders. “We don’t have any weapons, you idiot. Unless you count bad breath.”
Roquefort eyed us both suspiciously. “One can never be too careful on Roquefort Island. It’s a savage, dog-eat-dog place. Be warned.”
He straightened and held the tip of the spear up to my nose to drive his point home.
I pushed it aside. “What happened to your clothes? And how long have you been here?”
The prince squinted up at the sky and seemed to count on his fingers for a few moments. “Judging by the travels of the sun . . . I’d say twenty minutes, at least.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to help Kevin up as Roquefort went on.
“My clothes are drying on a rock back there. But how did I arrive on Roquefort Island, you might ask?”
He did. “After you COMPLETELY ABANDONED me back there, I thought I was a goner. I fought valiantly for hours, but eventually I breathed in too much water and I blacked out.” He let that hang in the air for a bit.
“I woke up leaning against a palm tree over there.”
I stared at him blankly. “That makes no sense. Why didn’t you drown? How’d you end up in the tree line?”
Suddenly the prince turned away, mumbling and looking sheepish.
He was acting weird, so I pressed him. “I missed that. What?”
He turned around and blurted it.
“Or, like, she was part pig and part fish! I was in and out, so maybe I dreamt her, but I think she was . . .” He trailed off, probably because of the looks on our faces. “I swear if you tell anyone about this, I’ll take this spear and make troll and pork shishkabobs out of—”
“Seriously?? I thought they were just bedtime stories my dad would tell me!!” Kevin was so excited, you’d have thought he’d won the mutton lottery. “Was she insanely beautiful beyond your wildest dreams?”
I’d heard of a mermaid before, but a mer-pig was new to me. Kevin was licking his hooves and using them to smooth his stray hairs and eyebrows into place.
“Maybe she’ll come back! I need to freshen up—get some of the wrinkles and sand out of this shirt.”
I had to smile, as both Meredith and imminent death seemed to have slipped his mind for once.
* * *
We spent the afternoon searching the island. (If I ever screw up and call it Roquefort Island, you have my permission to give me a long, deep, luxurious swirly. Seriously.)
By incredible luck, there turned out to be a small natural spring up in the trees. It was barely a trickle of water bubbling up out of the ground, but we made it work. We sipped at it until our stomachs sloshed and then sat in the shade sharing the one banana we’d found that wasn’t rotten. Then we all lay back and complained for a while. (Sometimes it helps, okay?)
Kevin and I managed to throw together a little shelter made of palm fronds while the prince sat in the shade fanning himself and calling out orders.
I somehow got through the late afternoon without strangling Roquefort. Kev and I started building a fire as the sky turned orange. Kevin was holding a piece of wood as I rubbed another against it—trying to create a spark.
“You think Chester’s okay?” Kevin didn’t look up from the piece of wood.
I took a break and looked out at the water.
“Unless he cracked the wrong joke and Trunk ate him.”
Kevin laughed nervously and I went on. “I mean, he’s still on the boat, as far as we know. I keep thinking we’ll hear him coming any time now. Or maybe he’s gone back for my gramps and now the whole kingdom is out looking for us.”
Kevin smiled as bravely as he could. “Well, I’m sure they have the entire navy searching for His Royal Jerkypants.”
I started pushing the wood back and forth as fast as I could. “True that.”
The fire finally started. (Score another for troll strength.) When darkness fell, we all sat around, trying not to think about food as we stared into the fire.
When the awkwardness in the air had built to a nice unbearable thickness, the prince excused himself to the shelter to sleep. And not two minutes later, horrible rattling snoring came echoing out of the little lean-to.
I’m not kidding. It made Gramps’s snoring sound like a cute little kitten purr. Like, I think something may be seriously wrong with Roquefort’s nose or face. That or he swallowed a Chainsaw Dragon.
Eventually, Kevin and I gave up on sleeping in the shelter and settled down to sleep on opposite sides of the fire. Just before I nodded off, I looked over and saw Kev staring up at the stars with big worried eyes.
• 12 •
ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE
I woke up to the sound of singing, and thought for a moment that I was still dreaming. It was a girl’s voice. The sound of someone singing absent-mindedly to themselves. I lay there for a few seconds until I recognized the tune. “Lost at Sea” by The Sandy-Toed Minstrels. How annoyingly appropriate.
I rolled over and saw Kevin looking back with a hoof to his lips in a shushing gesture. He was pointing toward the water.
I sat up to look, and there in the waves, her snout sparkling in the early morning light . . . was a mer-pig. She was gently splashing up water to wash her long fish-tail off. Her blond hair was practically glowing as it swept back and forth across her shoulders.
I turned back to Kevin and saw that he was already full-tilt over the moon. The look of love on his face was something to behold. I was trying to get his attention when I heard the prince’s voice whispering in my ear.
I couldn’t help it. My head snapped around and I yelled.
The prince fell back, startled. I remembered we were trying to be quiet and continued in a whisper-yell. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??”
But it was too late. The singing stopped and I heard the mer-pig’s voice.
“Wow! Y’all are finally up?”
Kevin started stammering. “I . . . well . . . how . . . you . . .”
Seeing how much trouble he was having forming words, I got to my feet and walked down the beach toward her—feeling a little woozy from the lack of food.
“Hi. I’m Zarf.” I pointed over my shoulder and introduced Kevin and Roquefort. “What’s your name?”
She smiled and extended her hoof. “S’wella.” The way she was holding her hoof made me think she wanted me to kiss it, like in old movies, but I just gave her a fist bump to be safe.
“So . . . S’wella. You’re a mer-pig?”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I guess I am—but I haven’t heard that one in a while. We go by a lot of names.”
<
br /> “But mer-pig’ll work just fine.” I wouldn’t have expected an ocean resident to have her light Southern belle accent.
Roquefort stepped up. “So, you’re the, um . . . thing that saved me?”
She splashed some water over her shoulders. “I am indeed. I saw you were in trouble, and protection’s one of my sacred duties as a clickity-click tic squEEAAK clicka-ticka WHEEEE.”
We must have stared back blankly, because she went on. “Sorry. Mer-pig. Force of habit.”
Then Kevin stepped up beside us—slowly, like he was approaching the Queen of Everland.
S’wella put her hoof to her chest, completely caught off guard. Then a small blush showed up on her cheeks. “Thank you . . . Kevin. Nobody’s ever given me a flower before.” She gave him a big smile. “But that’s actually the bloom from a Poison Fantasia Bush. I’d wash your hooves right quick if you don’t want itchy blistering lesions.”