Horns & Wrinkles Page 18
"Emeralds," Reliable St. John answered for them.
"Diamonds," Biz's cricket sang.
"Gold doubloons," added Jim Dandy's cricket.
All lies, of course, but to find out otherwise, I'd have to hike over there in person.
I did feel a tiny tingle as I stepped over the ripple, but other than that, I could have been stepping over a sidewalk crack. The river and valley and sky on the other side looked exactly the same, as did the trolls standing behind me. Jogging, I soon reached the cabin and shined my light through a glassless side window. Inside was nothing but one small room with rotted-out floorboards and junk deposited by the last flood that passed through—pop cans, paper plates, plastic spoons. There was no sign of missing troll fathers or of anything that might have lured them.
Turning around, I was about to call out that there was nothing there when I saw it.
A hole was opening at the base of a huge old cottonwood tree twenty steps behind Stump, Biz, and Jim Dandy.
A rock troll was rumbling out of the hole.
He held a pitchfork. He wore a bib. He looked as though Bodacious Deepthink might be his cute little sister.
I didn't need to shout "Look out!" The only thing quiet about a rock troll that humongous was his manners.
"PUDDING!" he slobbered. "PUDDING!"
"We're not sorry. We're not sorry," sobbed the lucky cave crickets.
Backed up against the ripple, Stump, Biz, and Jim Dandy had nowhere to go but the river. They might have made it too, except that Jim Dandy fainted—this time for real—and Biz thought he was stone again. Something told me they weren't the first river trolls to freeze on that exact same spot. It appeared the crickets' lies had led us into a trap.
True blue to the end, Stump struggled to drag his friends into the river, but there wasn't time. The rock troll was closing fast.
With a whoop, I came running.
That slowed the rock troll for maybe a split second, to laugh. I was about to hurl the flashlight at him, but before I let go, the light beam raked across his face, blinding him. Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he tripped.
"Get down!" I yelled.
Stump shoved Biz on top of Jim Dandy, then dove to sand himself.
The rock troll sailed over them, shooting past the ripple. The bloodcurdling scream he let out at that instant made my ears flap.
"COLD!"
As he tumbled and twisted on the far side of the ripple, his feet splashed into the river and a block of ice instantly formed around them. His wails and writhing went on until he burst into a crackling flame, which according to the old lady was the only way he could keep warm. As he lifted off the ground, his flames grew brighter. In less than a minute he was blinding as a shooting star. Then he began to shrink until, in no time at all, he was small as a shooting star. Pointing skyward, he zoomed out of sight.
Not a one of us blinked or twitched a tail. We were all leaning so far back that we almost toppled over. At last Stump said in a hushed voice, "Is that what happened to our fathers?"
Lost in our own thoughts, each of us gazed upward as if seeing the night sky for the first time.
"That or pudding," Biz squeaked, breaking our trance.
"Hey!" Jim Dandy said, coming to life. "That means we did it. We found 'em."
And then they danced. And sang. I joined in too.
We didn't sound any better than the last time, but at least we weren't at it long. When we started line dancing down the beach, we tripped over the same thing that had sent the rock troll sprawling. We ended up in a giggly pile on the sand, several feet shy of the ripple. At the center of the pile was a large box turtle who had parked right in everyone's way. It was my friend Lottie, come to say hello.
THE END
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Afterword
The town of Blue Wing, Minnesota, lies a hundred and twenty some miles downriver from the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul. Mapmakers usually overlook it, but these directions may help: Follow Highway 61 south from St. Paul. Don't be confused by the city of Red Wing—that's a completely different town, with completely different stories. Once past Reads Landing, start paying attention. If you reach the Reno Bottoms without spotting Blue Wing, you've gone too far and will have to backtrack.
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