Horns & Wrinkles (25 page)

At least we couldn't hear any footsteps echoing in the inkiness behind us, though we didn't get to feel safe for long. An explosion suddenly knocked us down, followed by a dusty wind that blew over us. When the blast's echoes quit filling our ears and the wind died off, the ringing of pickaxes breaking rock could be heard.

They must have been widening the mouth of the tunnel to accommodate Bodacious Deepthink's swollen body, for the Great Rock Troll was screeching something over and over. Straining, I could make out just one word.

"FASTER! FASTER! FASTER!"

Only Reliable St. John, now riding atop the lantern, had something to say to that—"I think we should wait for her."

Taking the hint, Stump started trotting. The rest of us bumbled along behind.

When we reached the first fork in the tunnel, we all held up while Stump asked Reliable St. John which way to go.

"To the right," the cave cricket said.

Stump swung the lantern toward the right fork, which was the smaller of the two.

"You sure?" Stump asked.

"No," Reliable St. John answered.

Satisfied, Stump led us down the left fork, though there was plenty of second-guessing in the line behind him.

From then on, every time we reached a fork in the tunnel, Stump asked the same questions and Reliable St. John lied the same answers. In general, the tunnels headed up and the air grew ever so faintly fresher, though every once in a while we hit a stretch that dipped downward and the air turned fouler. Twice we passed small side tunnels down which we could hear stone birds singing far away. At those times everybody moved faster, especially Duke, who had shoved his way up front and who claimed over and over that he could hear the rock trolls getting closer. Maybe he could.

Bodacious Deepthink and her trolls had to have known some shortcuts. At times I thought I could hear voices or footsteps through the walls myself. But maybe not. Underground, in total darkness, sound comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Eventually we reached a three-way fork in the tunnel and came to a total stop, for the extra tunnel meant it took longer to sort through Reliable St. John's lies. When the cricket said we should take the tunnel on the right, there were still two tunnels on the left to choose from.

"Should we take this one?" Stump pointed at the nearest of the two remaining tunnels.

"By all means," Reliable St. John said, "if you want to get lost."

"That must mean it's the way to go," Stump reckoned. "Since we don't want to get lost."

But before we could get started, a toe-curling squeal erupted from the herd. Rock trolls had sprung out of the tunnel on the right and were dragging the closest rhino away.

"I'm too skinny!" the rhino cried, kicking and crashing about. "Way too skinny!"

"Save him!" Uncle Floyd shouted.

And that was when the first of twenty-eight more amazing things happened in that tunnel. One of the rhinos in the middle of the herd lowered his horn and charged to the rescue.

"Fool," Duke said.

Just then the rhino reached the trolls and there was a bang and a flash as loud and bright as another rocket blasting off for Pluto. There was smoke too, along with the sweet smell of peaches and cream. The trolls dropped the rhino they'd snatched and fled for their lives.

What caused the explosion?

A second act of genuine kindness.

After the echoes faded and the smoke cleared, a short, chunky kid in a tattered Little League uniform stood where the charging rhino had been. He was grinning wildly while rubbing a thumb across his forehead. His horn had vanished—not even a knob marked the spot.

From then on there was no shortage of genuine acts of kindness in that tunnel as the remaining rhinos charged at rock trolls who sprang out from side tunnels.

A few bullies acted more interested in being changed back into a boy or girl than in sacrificing themselves to save someone else. When they rushed forward, they stayed rhinos, and the trolls gleefully dragged them off, hooting and laughing above the wailing. But another rhino always unselfishly stepped forward to save the day with a
true
act of genuine kindness. Eventually, even the selfish bullies learned their lesson, and the next time they tried a rescue, their motives were purer. Smoke and the sweet smell of peaches and cream rolled off them.

By the time we reached the end of the tunnel, there was only one rhino left, along with twenty-eight kids—twenty-nine if you counted me. The remaining rhino wasn't shy about sharing his opinion, but then he never had been.

"Don't expect me to protect you," Duke blustered. "I plan on staying just the way I am."

"You might want to think twice about that," Stump told him. "Jim Dandy's nowhere near the friend you've been pretending he is, even when he's not stone."

Duke didn't care for that idea, but he didn't bother arguing about it either. He was too busy snorting at the dead-end wall that Reliable St. John had run us into.

Worse yet, we could see a lantern drawing closer from behind us. Shouts could be heard. Bodacious Deepthink kind of shouts.

"Faster. Faster! FASTER!"

"What should we do?" Stump asked Reliable St. John.

"Go back," the cave cricket advised.

"Impossible!" everyone cried, forgetting it was a cave cricket talking.

Right away Stump asked the cricket how we were supposed to walk through a wall.

"Not with a song," Reliable St. John answered.

"I think we could all use a song right about now," Stump told the cricket. "If you don't mind."

But before Reliable St. John could even clear his tiny throat, Bodacious Deepthink and her trolls roared around the last corner behind us.

"MY RHINOS?" Bo screeched.

We all crowded behind what was left of her rhinos, namely Duke. He, in turn, tried backing through us.

"WHERE ARE THEY?"

In the silence that followed, a single small voice answered.

Jewel box, jewel box
of the earth
Open up and send
us forth.

Reliable St. John was singing the rock wall open.

The cricket didn't have much of a singing voice, but apparently he didn't need one. The wall at our backs began to slide upward like a garage door.

"GET THAT CRICKET!" Bodacious Deepthink yelled.

But having had enough of smoke and peaches, not a single rock troll took so much as a baby step forward. Bo lifted a couple of nearby trolls up, hurling them at us, but as soon as they regained their feet, they scrambled for cover.

Outraged, Bodacious Deepthink took a deep breath and began singing. The nightingales had fled her voice, leaving something foul and creaky in their place.

Jewel box, jewel box
of the earth
Close your lid
or feel a curse.

The stone wall started soundlessly lowering.

Up and down the wall went, as first Reliable St. John, then Bodacious Deepthink, sang. At its highest point, the wall never raised more than a foot, which was hardly enough to crawl under, but was more than enough to tease us with whiffs of fresh air and glimpses of sunlight and snatches of birdsong.

Reliable St. John finally stopped singing long enough to call out, "I wouldn't plug her mouth."

"What wouldn't you plug it with?" Stump asked.

"A rock."

"I wouldn't either," Stump agreed, but at the same time he picked up a good-size rock, almost a boulder and, staggering forward, tossed it with all his might.

The rock hung in the air for nearly forever before landing in Bo's mouth just as she was cutting loose with "feel a curse." There it stayed, wedged tight, but although the rock put a stop to Bo's singing, it didn't keep her from grabbing. With one swipe of her hand, she had Stump by his ankle, holding him upside down as if looking for a saucepot to dunk him in.

"Do something," I cried to Duke.

What happened next was the second biggest surprise of my life. A glazed look overtook Duke's eyes, and then he actually did something, though first he had to grouse about it.

"Little fool," he muttered, though he seemed to talking to Stump, not me.

But then he sucked down a deep breath, lowered his head, and charged.

That was Duke, my cousin ... charging a rock troll.

Bodacious Deepthink knew just what to do. Turning surprisingly light-footed, she sidestepped Duke's charge, snatched up one of his hind legs with her free hand, and swept him into the air. So now Duke dangled from one of her hands, Stump from the other, and her mood was merry as could be. Puffing out her cheeks, she spit the small boulder out of her mouth and got ready to crow.

She wasn't quick enough.

Before she got out one peep there came a flash and a bang and as much smoke as one last rocket blasting off for Pluto would have made. No sweet smell of peaches and cream accompanied it, though. What rolled over us this time was a rotting smell of river muck and fish scales. When the smoke cleared, I found out why and nearly fainted. The biggest surprise of my life had arrived.

You see, Duke wasn't a rhino anymore.

He wasn't exactly my cousin, either.

His act of genuine kindness had turned him into a river troll.

"Duckwad?" Stump yelled, stunned.

"This is all your fault," complained the river troll hanging upside down in Bodacious Deepthink's other hand. One genuine act of kindness appeared to be Duke's limit, whether he was human or river troll.

"QUIET!" Bodacious Deepthink roared, shaking the two river trolls hard enough to cross their eyes. Holding the new river troll up to her snout, she demanded, "WHERE'D YOU COME FROM?"

"Over there?" Duke said, pointing a shaky claw toward us.

"I think maybe he's my brother," Stump meekly suggested.

Even with the two river trolls dangling upside down, you couldn't help but see a strong family resemblance around their knotty brows and foamy snouts.

"WHAT?"

"Your curse turned him human years ago," Stump said. "When he got his months mixed up. But now, having stood up to you, he's back."

"WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!" Bodacious Deepthink bellowed, and she started swinging Duckwad around and around, as if about to break him open against a wall.

Strangely enough, hearing all this filled me with such a surge of hope that I nearly burst. For one thing, it meant I could quit worrying about being Duckwad. Much as I'd come to like Stump, I didn't really want to be his brother. I was kind of used to being who I was, even if I was totally different from my sisters, even if turtles and toads and snakes were always looking me up. Finding out that Duke was Duckwad thrilled me so much that I did a foolish thing. I took a step forward and screamed at the top of my lungs, "Save them!"

"HUH?" Bodacious Deepthink said, looking up.

All the other kids stepped forward with me, shouting things like:

"We will!"

"Let's show her!"

"Pudding, my foot!"

And while all that shouting was going on, Reliable St. John kept right on singing the rock wall up. Not a one of us turned and bolted for daylight, though we could have. High as the door had climbed, we wouldn't even have had to duck on the way out. Late-afternoon sunlight was streaming in from outside, making us feel as big as our shadows, which were like giants.

We started for Bodacious Deepthink as one, stepping slowly but gaining speed.

We stomped our feet.

We pounded our chests.

We howled like the wildest hyenas alive.

We sounded so awful that Bodacious Deepthink dropped Stump and Duckwad to cover her ears. The two river trolls rolled to safety, but we didn't. We stormed on toward danger, determined to teach Bodacious Deepthink, the Great Rock Troll, that she'd better think at least twice before trying to fatten up kids of any kind ever again.

I'll never be sure if it was us or the sun pouring over our shoulders that frightened Bodacious Deepthink so terribly. But the Great Rock Troll spun around with a yelp and stumbled away, climbing over the backs of other rock trolls to clatter off into the darkness. Her trolls followed but not before I grabbed up a small rock, whipped out my slingshot, and smashed their last lantern with one pure-luck shot.