Creature Keepers and the Burgled Blizzard-Bristles

by Peter Nelson

  Greetings, Elite Keepers!

  Hope all is well atop Mount Kanchenjunga. The monks and I are fine down here. I’ve been trying to contact Creature Keeper central command on the transmitter Jordan gave me, and after some trouble figuring out how to turn it on, I now find that I am quite unable to get reception. While I’m no technological expert, I suspect this may be because I am sitting beneath a mountain. Rest assured I will solve this challenge. In the meantime, be safe, enjoy your dinner, and I’ll see you soon!

  Your friend,

  Eldon Pecone

  Badger Clan 74

  “I’ll bet he could get reception up here,” Jordan said. “Wilford, would it be possible to bring him up so he could join us? He’d really love this place.”

  “To the mountaintop, I suppose. But not this peak. This peak is sacred.”

  “Then why did you let us up here?” Abbie asked. “I mean, I for one wasn’t very nice to you. Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

  “As I said, I sense that the two of you are pure of heart.” The Yeti paused. “Of course, the fact that you’re George Grimsley’s grandchildren doesn’t hurt, either.”

  “Well, why’d you let him up, then?” Abbie asked. “What was so special about George Grimsley that you even kept his footprints frozen as a memento all these years?”

  “Your grandfather was a young man when we met. He found me after getting a glimpse of the cryptid world and making a terrible mistake. He had seen with his human eyes a very special creature. And being human, he exploited what he saw, out of greed.”

  “But he changed,” Abbie said. “He wanted to make things right.”

  “He was lost and wandering. I helped him by shining a light on his path. I showed him where he might find a way to make right what he’d done wrong.”

  Jordan sat up and pulled his grandfather’s journal out of his backpack. He flipped it open and read from it. “This great creature has shown me my path and pointed me toward my destiny.” He looked up at Wilford, then glanced at the image of Everest shimmering above him. “That’s it. That’s what you did. With your snow-vision power to see anywhere in the world, you showed Grampa Grimsley where to find the cryptids!”

  “I wondered how he located all those creatures all over the globe,” Abbie said. “I can hardly ever find my iguana, Chunk. And he never leaves our apartment.”

  “Your grandfather took his first steps along his path down off this mountain. Then he followed it toward his life’s work, helping many of my kind.”

  “It’s because of you he became the very first Creature Keeper,” Abbie said.

  “Not just me. There was one other cryptid without whom your grandfather never would have started wandering in the first place. And now it seems that cryptid is trying to undo everything he unwittingly helped your grandfather create.” Wilford stared off.

  “Chupacabra thinks I’m my grandfather,” Jordan said.

  “I see some of him in you,” Wilford said. “But I also see you’re nothing like George Grimsley. I mean that in the best of ways. Unlike him, you are not afraid to ask questions. To truly learn. Your grandfather had to overcome his pride and his desire to conquer before he could open his mind and heart. I do not sense that conflict in you.”

  “Chupacabra said George Grimsley never asked the right questions,” Jordan said. “That he never learned his history.”

  “It’s true. Your grandfather was loyal, brave, and resourceful. He would set his mind to a task and get it done. But he wasn’t very curious. He didn’t look very far beyond what he considered to be his duty.”

  “Sounds like he would’ve made a perfect Badger Ranger,” Abbie said.

  “Chupacabra also predicted that bad things would repeat themselves,” Jordan continued. “And we wouldn’t recognize it until it was too late. What’d he mean? What questions didn’t my grandfather ask?”

  “Probably the same ones you’re not asking me right now,” Wilford said. “Maybe you are a little like him.”

  Jordan thought about this. Abbie saw her brother’s confused expression and chuckled. “He wants us to ask him something, genius.” She turned to Wilford. “Okay, I’ve got one. It’s pretty basic. Where did cryptids come from?”

  Wilford gazed past the Everest image, up at the stars. “Cryptids have been here for a very long time. But that does not mean we all came into being at the same instant, or from the same place. Each of the earliest cryptids was born with special, elemental powers. But even we were born at different periods of the earth’s evolution.”

  “We?” Jordan stared at him.

  Wilford nodded. “I was the first.”

  “How old are you?” Abbie asked.

  “I was born hundreds of millions of years ago, out of a catastrophic event. A massive ice age that wiped out more than half the earth’s living creatures at the time. As they were forced into extinction, I came into existence.”

  “And your elemental power is connected to snow and ice,” Jordan said. “Coincidence?”

  The Yeti shook his head. “That pattern repeated over the eons with extra special cryptids, each with its own unique elemental power. The second came with the evolutionary explosion of the first giant trees. Their roots stretched deep into the earth, deeper than any other plant before them. They were magnificent, but they affected the balance between soil and oxygen, wiping out even more species than my birth event. But from the rich, root-churned soil sprouted a new and noble cryptid endowed with Soil-Soles—which could manipulate the very earth they touched.”

  “Syd,” Abbie said. “The Sasquatch.”

  “During the third great event, sea-level fluctuations and other factors created the deadliest extinction the world had yet seen. It wiped out nearly every living thing but created a single magnificent one. She was born deep below the planet’s newly changing waters—and given the elemental power to control them.”

  “Nessie and her Hydro-Hide,” Jordan said. “And what about the fourth?”

  “The fourth?” Wilford looked at him. “To my knowledge, there are only three of us.”

  “Chupacabra told me there was a fourth special creature with an elemental power,” Jordan said. “One that even my grandfather didn’t know about. Why would he make that up?”

  “Chupacabra is a liar and a trickster,” Wilford said. “But he is most dangerous because his reasons do not necessarily have to be rational.”

  Abbie looked down at Morris. His shell rose gently with his breath as he slept. “But is it possible?” she asked. “Could there be a fourth creature with an elemental power?”

  “Anything is possible,” Wilford said. “And I’ve been up on this mountaintop a long time. But I think I would’ve noticed another planetary catastrophe that gave birth to a fourth special cryptid.”

  “What about the others,” Jordan asked. “The nonspecial creatures. Did they come from catastrophes, too?”

  “Sort of,” Wilford said. “We three elemental cryptids arrived long before the dinosaurs. We saw them come, and over the eons we saw them go. Their final extinction was brought on at the end of what you call the Mesozoic era. An asteroid six miles wide slammed into the earth, near what is now known as the Yucatan Peninsula. The mark of its impact is still there today. It sent tons of dust and vapor into the sky, blocking out the sun, eventually thrusting nearly three-quarters of all life into extinction, including the dinosaurs. But it also began a chain reaction of evolutionary anomalies that over time spawned all the various and unique cryptids you know. Plus a few you probably don’t.”

  “Including Chupacabra,” Jordan said.

  “Chupacabra came up and made himself known to us around the same time the human race did. We three saw there was something different about humans, unlike any other creature we’d seen come and go on earth. They seemed harmless enough, but endowed with a unique ability to learn, and a survival instinct to control the world around them. Unfortunately, we noticed similar traits in Chupacabra. He wasn’t like other crypt
ids. He was cunning and impatient, with a desire to rule over that which he had no right. He resented the powers we three had and believed we were wasting our gifts. He wanted us to act as gods. To control the earth and all its creatures. Including humans.”

  “Yep,” Jordan said. “That’s him, all right.”

  “We had no interest in Chupacabra’s ideas of how the world should be.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t like that,” Abbie said.

  “It was a dark time. He lashed out at us, and then at less powerful cryptids.”

  “He killed his own kind?” Jordan asked.

  “He was too smart for that. All cryptids instinctively know that if they kill another cryptid, their fate becomes the same as the one that they destroy. But he did cause harm, and pain—and panic.”

  “How awful,” Abbie said.

  “It was a cruel attempt to bait the three of us into joining him in ruling the world. But it didn’t work. Nessie, Sasquatch, and I had witnessed too many destructive events that had wiped out so much life. We couldn’t be a new force of misery to any living creature. But we had to do something to stop him. We set out to capture him, but he went into hiding. Even with my gift to see for miles, Nessie’s ability to scan the seas and oceans, and Sasquatch’s power to split the ground open to look under every stone, rock, and tree, we couldn’t find or capture him. So we hid our cryptid brothers and sisters, scattering them all over the globe. Then we divided the earth into three sections, and each of us settled in a different area—Sasquatch in what are known as the Americas to the west, Nessie in the central European and African segment, and me here in the east. Together we vowed to use our elemental powers to keep the planet in balance, and to avoid another mass extinction—of cryptids, but also of humans.”

  Jordan thought about this for a moment. “We call ourselves Creature Keepers, but all this time, it’s really been you guys who’ve protected us.”

  “You’re People Keepers,” Abbie said.

  Wilford stared at the two of them, looking somewhat taken aback, as if reminded of something he’d long forgotten.

  “Yes,” the Yeti finally said. “I suppose we are.”

  20

  As the night wore on at the top of Mount Kanchenjunga, the wind picked up and the temperature began to drop quickly. Wilford noticed his guests shivering in the cold as they watched the surveillance storm images of Mount Everest. Even Morris was trembling in his shell.

  “There is no need for all of us to keep watch at the same time,” Wilford said. He stood up and gently blew through his Blizzard-Bristles. A snow gust danced and swirled, whipping into a wide circle before them, forming a dome from the ground up. Seconds later, the last wisp of snow settled atop a perfect ice house.

  “Cool,” Abbie said. “It’s kinda like a yurt.”

  “But frozen,” Jordan added.

  “A fro-yurt!” Morris exclaimed. He ran toward the dome and dived, sliding feetfirst on his shell straight through its small entrance. Abbie and Jordan laughed as they followed behind. Before entering the fro-yurt, Jordan turned to watch as Wilford sat back down on the flat rock and continued to stare at the image of Mount Everest, all alone.

  Inside the fro-yurt, Jordan found Morris and Abbie lying on their backs, staring up through a small, round hole at the top. The little igloo was surprisingly warm and cozy, and Abbie had packed snow atop Morris’s ice-filled sara, just to be sure.

  “Aren’t the stars beautiful, master?” he asked her.

  “Yes, and again, you don’t have to call me that,” Abbie said. “No one is your master. You’re part of our team now. So just be your own Kappa. Got it?”

  “As you wish, master. If you’d like me to get that, then it shall be gotten.”

  Abbie noticed a thoughtful expression on Jordan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you think he’s lonely up here?” Jordan asked.

  “I think he’s grown not very fond of the rest of the world,” she said. “I can totally relate—but yeah, I’d still get lonely up here, all alone.”

  “Being alone is not the same as being lonely,” Morris said, continuing to stare up through the hole in the domed ceiling. “After a while, loneliness can become a companion. It just doesn’t make very good company.”

  Jordan and Abbie looked at the Kappa. “You’re a freaky little dude,” Jordan said.

  “Don’t listen to him, Morris.” Abbie lay down beside him. “So before Katsu and Shika became your Keepers, were you lonely?”

  “Oh, yes, master,” Morris said, still staring upward. “For thousands and thousands of starry nights I was all alone. At first it was good. Then it wasn’t. And then it got much, much better. Once he found me. George Grimsley was very good company. I had such terrible trouble falling asleep all alone before he came along. He would lie with me by the riverside, and together we would stare up through the beech trees and count the stars until I drifted off.”

  “How long did he stay with you?” Jordan asked.

  “Until the day he introduced me to my first masters.”

  “Katsu and Shika,” Abbie said.

  “And then I wasn’t alone anymore, ever again.”

  “Morris,” Jordan said, “after that, did you ever see my grandfather again?”

  “Of course. I see him every night. I see him right now. Right . . . up . . . there. . . .” Jordan saw the stars reflected in Morris’s big, beautiful eyes until they slowly closed, and the Kappa drifted off to sleep.

  Abbie soon followed, leaving Jordan to stare through the hole in the fro-yurt. He thought about all the cryptids he’d met, and how most of them lived alone with their Keepers, hidden away from the world. For the first time, the thought of it made him sad. Each of these unique creatures had once shared a common acquaintance. The same first human friend. And that friend was gone forever. He thought about how alone his grandfather must have felt when he was wandering the world, until the day he met Wilford. Finally, he thought of Wilford, right outside, sitting all alone in the cold snow, staring at the shimmering image of a cold, lonely mountain eighty miles away.

  Jordan crawled out of the fro-yurt and sat down next to Wilford.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jordan asked.

  “I was thinking about what Chupacabra told you. About there being a fourth special cryptid born with an elemental power. Why wouldn’t such a creature make itself known?”

  “I don’t know,” Jordan said. “But why would three mass-extinction events create three special cryptids, then a fourth leave nothing but a mark?”

  “That’s a very good question.”

  “Here’s one more,” Jordan said. “It’s about another one of Chupacabra’s strange claims. He’s always so sure I’m George Grimsley. It’s like he can feel him, or smell him. I know he’s a liar and a trickster. But I think he really believes it. And the crazy part of it is, in a small way, so do I. Sometimes I feel like my grandfather is still alive. Like he’s with me, and he always has been.”

  Wilford reflected on this. “None of what you said was a question.”

  Jordan took a deep breath. “If my Grampa Grimsley was alive and you knew where he was—you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  The Yeti pondered again. “Your grandfather had a path to follow. It led him to his destiny. And then, unfortunately, it led him into the mouth of a very large and hungry alligator. You also have a path, young Grimsley. And you must follow it to your destiny. There are no shortcuts, no glimpses into what lies ahead. There is only you, your path, and your footsteps. Anything beyond that . . . should not be your concern.”

  Jordan thought about this for a good long time. He was growing incredibly sleepy. It was cold, but he suddenly felt so weary that the thought of standing up and walking the few feet back to his warm blanket inside the fro-yurt seemed an impossible journey. Instead, he leaned against his new friend, his head resting on the Yeti’s shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Jordan said dreamily. “But it’s really cold, a
nd you’re really warm.”

  “Oh, uh—yes. Of course.” Wilford looked down at him, and slowly extended a furry arm around Jordan. His gaze drifted back up to the image of Everest twinkling overhead, and he and pulled Jordan in closer.

  Jordan smiled as he felt the warm fur surround him. “Oh, and Wilford,” he said, drifting off to sleep. “None of what you said was an answer.”

  21

  Jordan awoke to cold water tapping him on the forehead. He opened his eyes as he was struck with a ripe odor. As his eyes adjusted to the morning light, he peered through a greenish haze all around him and sat up. His head felt heavy, and a horrible grogginess overcame him. He stumbled to his feet and looked around. He was still on the flat rock, but everything seemed different. The billowing piles of pure snow were now nearly gone, melted down to a dirty green slush.

  Jordan felt incredibly drowsy but fought to stay awake. The foggy haze, the smell—it all came flooding back to him. It was the odor of stinky feet. He looked up. The space overhead that had contained the sparkling image of Mount Everest and the trail of crystal powder that had delivered it was now a toxic, floating river of sludge sloshing above him, contaminating the entire mountaintop. All around him, what was left of the snow was vaporizing before his eyes into a green, toxic fog that filled the thin air. Jordan knew what this was. And who was responsible for it. They were being poisoned.

  A panic set in as he looked around. Wilford was nowhere to be seen. And the fro-yurt had eroded away as if it had somehow rotted during the night. Through the haze, Jordan could make out a figure lying in the center of the remaining slush. He ran toward it.

  “Abbie!” He leaped over what was left of the melting wall and stood in the center of the degraded igloo. Abbie was lying there, motionless. A chill rushed through Jordan as he lifted her and pulled her out. Morris was nowhere to be seen.

  Fighting off his dizziness, Jordan carried Abbie away from the vile mist, over to where his grandfather’s footprints had been. The entire slope down from the peak was melted away, including the preserved boot prints. He found a small patch of untainted snow and set her down.