by Sheila Grau
If he followed this road, eventually it would take him to the trailhead for the Manguno Laguno Nature Preserve. There, a series of trails crept up into the amber-colored hills. Somewhere up in those hills was a wormhole that led to Earth.
“I’m hungry,” Bonip said, peeking out of the backpack. “You didn’t pack any food in here.”
“No, I didn’t,” Jaq said. “Mellifluous, unique, haberdashery.”
“Say what?” Bonip said.
“I’m hungry, too.”
“So you speak nonsense?”
“Those words taste good to me,” Jaq said. “Rimple muffin.”
“How about ‘Wonderful wipper woefully hungry’?”
“I don’t like those W words. Or words that start with B.”
“Like . . . Bonip?”
“Your name tastes like fish-flavored bark, with a sour aftertaste,” Jaq said. “It’s revolting.”
“Well, excuse me. I’m not very fond of ‘Jaq’ myself. It’s too short for a name. But I guess that suits you, shorty. Plus, you smell bad.”
“Why don’t you go home?” Jaq said, stopping to look at the pest, which was hard to do, because he was still perched on Jaq’s backpack. “I’m not in the mood to be insulted. Badly.”
“I’m sorry,” Bonip said, climbing onto Jaq’s shoulder. “But you started it. I don’t want to go back. To be honest, the other wippers won’t even have noticed I’ve been gone, and that will make me feel worse than starvation. Can we get something to eat, please, please, pretty please?”
“No,” Jaq said. “And by the way, when you say ‘please’ over and over, it grates on my nerves like someone chewing with their mouth open. It makes me want to scream, it’s so annoying.”
“Oh? Sorry, then. Can we get something to eat? I beg of you? I beseech you? Pretty beseeches? No, ‘pretty’ probably tastes bad, too . . . Gorgeous beseeches?”
“How about you don’t plead for anything.”
“But I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry, too.”
They walked on.
“How much farther?” Bonip asked a few steps later. He’d collapsed in a dramatic heap, draping himself over Jaq’s shoulder. “Are we there yet?”
“Does it look like we’re there? I’m still walking.”
The road had come out of the trees and into a neighborhood with square houses sitting behind neat gardens. The gardens were filled with calming colors, the kind of colors that didn’t take a side in an argument, because they were neutral.
“Where are we going?” Bonip asked.
Jaq looked at the map. He had reached the spot where the street curved to the left and the trailhead was up on the right. “I’m going to try to rescue a guy who needs help and hopefully get myself some glug at the same time. But first I have to find something called a wormhole. It should be up this mountain.”
“Wormhole?” Bonip said, perking up.
Jaq had given a lot of thought to this wormhole. He wondered if he’d be too big to fit into it, but at the same time he really hoped it wasn’t the hole of a giant fang-toothed worm, because a giant fang-toothed worm would eat him.
Jaq, being a farmer, loved worms. The small ones. They were a gardener’s helpers, loosening and fertilizing soil. Whenever Jaq had a day off from school, he would go to the river with a bucket and collect as many worms as he could. Then he’d carefully place them in his small garden, and in the fields, too.
“A wormhole sounds perfect,” Bonip said. “I could really go for some worms right about now. That’s one thing I can say about your pathetic garden—it’s loaded with worms.”
“You guys eat my worms?” Jaq asked.
“Huh? Your worms? Um, no.”
Of course they do. Great Smolders, Jaq hated wippers! He brushed Bonip off his shoulder. The wipper landed with a bounce and looked up at him. Jaq pointed at Bonip. “It takes me hours to . . . Oh, forget it! Don’t follow me. Just . . . don’t.”
Jaq stormed off, not looking back. If he had looked back, he would have seen a sad little wipper with a quivering lower lip watching him leave.
Jaq reached the mountain trail and pressed onward. His legs were weak and shaking from hunger, but his anger kept him moving. He held the map in front of him, looking for the landmarks that were mentioned.
“There’s the broken tree,” he said to himself.
“There’s the rock that looks like a face,” he said a little later.
“There’s the river. I’m getting close.”
He crossed a rope bridge where the river was wide and calm. Then he followed the trail that led to the waterfall. Soon, the playful river was lapping and splashing over boulders. The sound made dots and swirls appear in Jaq’s vision. Twice, he veered suddenly, as if he were dizzy.
Jaq wasn’t used to walking next to so much sound. He knew the dots and swirls weren’t really there, but they startled him. Like most youngsters on Yipsmix, he was still learning how to filter out unnecessary sensory information.
The constant rush of noise grew louder as he climbed the trail. The splashing of the river seemed to echo off the trees next to it. Jaq’s vision became more and more clouded with blasts of color. Rounding a bend, he was met by a cascade of sound that completely filled his vision. To Jaq, it looked like he was walking toward overlapping strips of color, but he was really walking toward a steep embankment next to the raging river, a river that could sweep him away and smash him against giant boulders if he fell in.
And that embankment was just one step away.
12
HE’S STRONG, HE’S SWIFT—HE’S KLINGDUX THE INDESTRUCTIBLE!
A footstep from disaster, he heard a scream.
“Stop!”
Jaq froze.
“What’s wrong with you?” Bonip screamed. “You’re about to fall into the river!”
“I can’t see!” Jaq said. “It’s too noisy!”
Bonip climbed up to Jaq’s ear. “Listen to my voice. Take three steps back.”
Jaq did. Bonip guided him back around the bend, where the sound of the river was more muted. Once they were safely away from the river, he jumped off Jaq’s shoulder.
“What do you mean, you can’t see because it’s noisy?” he asked.
“The sound of the river—it throws blasts of color in my vision.”
“Jeez, Bigleg,” Bonip said, shaking his head. “First Bs taste like fish and now waterfalls make colors appear?”
“Yes,” Jaq said. “Don’t you taste and see sounds?”
“Nope. I only see things that are there. Sounds come in my ears. Smells come in my nose. I taste food when I have some in my mouth, and I feel things that touch me. That’s it.”
“You’re a strange little fellow,” Jaq said. “It’s like your brain is stunted, and it just experiences one sensation at a time. You only have five senses?”
“Yeah. How many do you have?”
“Seventeen.”
“Shut up.”
“What? Everyone does,” Jaq said. “Sense of direction, sense of time, sense of motion, sense of pain, sense that somebody is watching you—” He stopped listing them to wave away an orange ribbon of sound as a bird cawed from the branches above.
“Yeah, I’m the strange one,” Bonip muttered.
Jaq blinked. He rubbed his eyes. “I’m never going to make it to the waterfall.”
“Can we move away from the river?”
“No, there’s only one trail,” Jaq replied. He put his hands to his temples, closing his eyes again. He breathed deeply and tried to relax. He knew that with fixed concentration he could focus on the important sensory information. It was what they learned to do in school.
Soon he was able to make the colors fade to the edges of his vision enough so that he could continue up the trail. “I think I’m okay now,” he said. “I’m going to try that bend again.”
Bonip looked at him, his hands clasped together, a questioning look on his face.
Jaq sighed. “You
can come. And . . . um . . . thanks for saving me . . . you know . . . by the river.”
Bonip bounced cheerfully and then climbed onto Jaq’s shoulder. “Give me the map. You close your eyes, and I’ll guide you.”
The path grew narrower and steeper as they continued. The crash of water raged louder and louder. Even the thumping of Jaq’s heart was clouding his vision now.
“We’re almost there!” Bonip screamed over the noise of the falls. “It looks like the wormhole is behind the waterfall, and the waterfall is right there!”
Jaq nodded. They crept along slowly because Jaq was very nervous walking next to that powerful surge of water with his eyes closed. One misstep and he could slip in and be rushed away.
“Step forward!” Bonip yelled. “Another step! Another! Doing great! Three more steps! Now stop! Turn to the left! Okay—forward! Forward!”
Jaq could feel the mist on his face. The trail turned muddy and squishy, but he kept following Bonip’s directions. And then, suddenly, the thunder of the waterfall sounded a bit muted. Jaq risked opening his eyes. He had to blink a few times because he was in a dark cave.
“Where are we?”
“Behind the waterfall. The cave entrance was right there. I walked you inside a few steps, and then the cave turned, and here we are.”
Jaq pulled out his map, but he couldn’t see anything. He continued down the cave because there was nowhere else to go. Soon the walls closed in and he could touch both sides with his hands.
As he neared the end of the cave, he noticed a faint glow.
An oval shape was shimmering at the end of the tunnel. He inched closer to get a good look. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It seemed to give off a faint hum that radiated beautiful bright curlicues of color. It was hypnotizing and exotic.
“Dead end,” Bonip said sadly.
“Are you kidding? It’s right here!”
“Where? I can’t see anything.”
“It’s practically exploding with color,” Jaq said. “I can feel it vibrate when I move my hand close.”
Bonip ran down Jaq’s outstretched arm to see if he could feel it, too, but this startled Jaq and he shook his arm. Bonip flew into the air, his momentum carrying him forward, right toward the strange, glowing space. And then, zip! He was gone.
“Oops,” Jaq said.
13
AN ASSAULT ON JAQ’S 17 SENSES
“Bonip?” Jaq called.
Nothing.
“Bonip? Come back out!” Jaq shouted at the shimmering oval.
Bonip remained gone. He had disappeared into the wormhole. Was that a bad thing? Was it a good thing? Had he jumped through a portal to Earth? Or had he just been eaten by a strange new species of giant fang-toothed worm?
I have to follow, Jaq thought. But all of a sudden, he really didn’t want to. He had never been a jump-in-first kind of kid. He was the kind of kid who made sure the water was deep enough, warm enough, and free of bloodsucking creatures and harmful chemicals before he jumped in.
Jaq knew he had to go after Bonip. The wipper needed his help, probably. Or maybe not. The little guy was shifty and resourceful. Maybe I should wait and see if he comes back out. That would be the wise thing to do. Right?
No, he should be bold and go after him. Jaq knew that without great risk, there is no great reward. Grandpa had told him that once, right before he’d taken a nap.
Grandpa was right. He should jump in.
But Grandpa had lost his farm because of a bad investment. Should he really take advice from him?
Jaq paced with indecision. He walked toward the wormhole, persuading himself to jump in, only to spin away as arguments against jumping in popped into his head.
Just step through. It’s why you came here.
No, wait—it could be dangerous. Hunger can be beaten. Dead is dead.
Jump, you coward!
Don’t be foolish!
You really don’t have a choice, Jaq, a third voice in his head told him. You have to jump. It’s what Klingdux the superhero would do. And probably Klingdux the freasel, too.
Jaq closed his eyes, held his breath, and stepped forward.
He was sucked into the wormhole. The rocky walls of the cave seemed to disappear into emptiness. As his world faded away, he felt a strange sensation, like his body was being squeezed and pulled apart at the same time. The air was sucked out of him, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. All was silent.
At last, he burst free and fell onto soft soil. Before he could get up, Bonip jumped on his face.
“What took you so long?” Bonip asked.
Jaq inhaled with relief. “Where are we?” He brushed himself off and stood up. He seemed to be in a forest of tall plants with giant leaves. “How did we get here? What’s going on?”
“Isn’t it great?” Bonip said, peeking through the leaves. “Have you ever seen colors like these?”
Jaq looked through the leaves and immediately knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t on Yipsmix anymore. Gone were the soft browns and muted grays of his home. He’d landed in a brightly colored, screaming nightmare. It was an alien world filled with explosions of sounds and colors and smells. He’d never experienced anything like it, and it made him dizzy.
“Focus, Jaq. You’re spinning,” Bonip said.
Jaq plugged his ears. He tried to calm himself, because it’s very hard to concentrate when your body is jittery with panic. If sadness dulls the senses, then panic magnifies them. He breathed deeply and recited the prime numbers up to 503. All prime numbers were soft and round and kind. They were like friends who helped him relax when he was frightened.
“Concentrate, concentrate,” he chanted to himself. “Two, three, five, seven, eleven—”
He peeked out of the bushes. They were in a place that seemed similar to the marketplace on Yipsmix, but all the stores were indoors and stacked on top of each other, two stories high with a roof over everything. The sounds and smells and sights were trapped inside. They bounced around angrily, like wild beasts trying to escape. They seemed to charge right at Jaq, and he wanted to turn around and dive back into the wormhole.
And then he screamed. Two giants were walking by his hiding spot in the plants. Jaq had known that he was going to see giants—Plenthy’s letter had called this place “giant-filled.” But knowing and seeing were two different things.
These giants were massive.
Jaq covered his mouth and ducked back behind the protective cover of the plants.
“Winking moons, they’re huge!” he whispered to Bonip. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait,” Bonip said. “Jaq, we came here for a reason. Just relax. Take it slow. The wormhole is right there. We can dive back in if we have to, but let’s see what’s going on here.”
Jaq felt his whole body tremble. He looked at Bonip, standing so bravely at the edge of the plants. “You’re right,” he said. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself again. “The wormhole’s right there.”
They were well hidden in the little border of plants, so Jaq peeked out again, fingers back in his ears. His neck craned upward as another giant walked past. Jaq guessed that he would come up to the giant’s midcalf. He was surprised at how similar they were to Yipsmixers, the only real difference being their size.
The plants were neatly contained in an area edged by smooth, shiny bricks. High above Jaq a glass ceiling filtered light down onto a sparkling fountain in the center of the space. A couple of giants sat at the edge of the fountain while others walked past. Storefronts faced him from the opposite wall.
The fountain murmured and crashed with noise and, in Jaq’s view, popped and swirled with color.
Bonip jumped onto Jaq’s shoulder and poked him in the cheek. Jaq unblocked that ear.
“There’s got to be food nearby,” Bonip said. He pulled on Jaq’s shirt. “Do you smell that?”
“I smell everything,” Jaq said. “Don’t you have any senses that are going crazy
?”
“Just one,” Bonip replied. “My sense of hunger.” He punched Jaq on the cheek again. “Hey, you’re losing it, guy. Focus! We need to find food. Just block out all that other stuff and focus on food smells. C’mon, Jaq. It’s not that bad. What if I stuffed some dirt in your ear?”
Jaq replugged his ear and sniffed.
Oh, man, this is hard. It took a lot of concentration to suppress his other senses. He felt like he was shutting off chunks of his brain, but doing so brought relief. His vision cleared enough to see what was really in front of him.
And there, on the facing wall, just to the right of the fountain, he saw them. The golden arches that Plenthy had mentioned in his note. Two of them, just like the letter had said. “There.” Jaq pointed. “We have to go over there.”
“Okay!” Bonip said. “Let’s go.”
“We should wait and watch first,” Jaq said.
“Bonip doesn’t wait and watch first,” Bonip said. “Bonip goes after what he wants.”
And with that, Bonip jumped off Jaq’s shoulder and onto the bricks that bordered their little forest of plants. He hopped down to the ground and started across the open space.
Every bit of Jaq wanted to crawl back to the wormhole and go home. Every bit except the tiny little part of his brain that he’d forgotten to shut off. The part that told him he should never, ever, abandon a friend.
Bonip wasn’t exactly a friend, though, so it was a murky area.
14
FRENCH FRIES TASTE ROUND
Bonip was just a speck to the giants. They didn’t notice the white fluffball as it dodged their steps. They would notice Jaq, though. He was sure they would.
He tried to swallow, but he had no saliva left in his mouth.
“You coming?” Bonip called. He had reached the edge of the fountain.
Jaq took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said to himself. He stepped onto the brick edge of the plant area. The drop to the floor was only about half as tall as he was. He waited for a trio of giants to pass, and then jumped down. He ran out, quickly covering the space between the plants and the edge of the fountain, where Bonip waited. He grabbed the wipper and hurried to the next bit of cover, a potted tree outside the golden-arches store.