Fablehaven I (26 page)

They stealthily circled the entire building, finding no

doors unlocked. There weren’t even any cracks or peepholes.

Grandpa sealed this place up tight, Kendra

whispered.

We may have to make some noise to get inside, Seth

said. He started circling the building again.

I’m not sure that would be smart.

I’ll wait until the barn starts shaking again. Seth sat

down in front of a small door, little more than three feet

high. Minutes passed.

Think it knows we’re waiting? Kendra asked.

You’re just bad luck.

Stop saying that.

A fairy glided over near them. Seth tried to shoo it

away. Get out of here. The fairy effortlessly dodged his

shooing motions. The more vigorously he waved her away,

the closer she came.

Stop it, you’re just egging her on, Kendra said.

I’m sick of fairies.

Then ignore her and maybe she’ll leave.

He stopped paying attention to the fairy. She came up

right behind his head. When the proximity earned no reaction,

the fairy landed on his head. Seth slapped at her,

missing as she wove around his intended blows. Just when

he jumped to his feet to chase her, the booming groan

came again. The little door trembled.

Seth plopped back down and started ramming the door

with both feet. The moaning muffled most of the impact’s

noise. On the fifth kick, the edge of the little door split and

swung open.

Seth rolled away from the opening, and Kendra stepped

aside as well. Digging in his pockets, Seth withdrew the

remnants of his salt. Want some? he mouthed.

Kendra accepted some salt. A second or two later, the

deafening moaning ceased. Seth gestured for Kendra to

wait. He crept through the small door. Kendra waited,

squeezing the salt in her palm.

Seth reappeared in the opening wearing an inscrutable

expression. You have to see this, he said.

What?

Don’t worry. Come look.

Kendra ducked through the little doorway. The enormous

barn contained just one cavernous room with a few

closets around the perimeter. The entire room was dominated

by a single gigantic cow.

Not what I expected, Kendra murmured in disbelief.

She gawked at the colossal bovine in amazement. The

huge head was up near the rafters, forty or fifty feet in the

air. A hayloft spanning an entire side of the building served

as a feedbox. The cow’s hooves were the size of hot tubs.

The tremendous udder was absolutely bulging. Milk beaded

and dripped from teats almost the size of punching bags.

The gargantuan cow cocked its head, staring down at

the newcomers to the barn. It let out a long moo, making

the barn shake simply by shifting its stance.

Holy cow, Kendra muttered.

You can say that again. I doubt Grandpa will be running

out of milk anytime soon.

We’re friends, Kendra called up to the cow. The cow

tossed its head and began munching from the hayloft.

Why haven’t we heard this thing before? Seth

wondered.

She probably never moos. I think she’s in pain,

Kendra observed. See how swollen the udder looks? I bet

it could fill a swimming pool.

Seriously.

Somebody probably milks her every morning.

And nobody did today, said Seth.

They stood and stared. The cow continued munching

from the hayloft. Seth pointed at the back of the barn.

Look at the manure!

Sick!

The world’s biggest cow pie!

You would notice that.

The cow let out another bellowing complaint, the most

insistent so far. They clamped their hands over their ears

until the lowing stopped.

We probably should try to milk her, Kendra said.

How are we supposed to do that! Seth cried.

There has to be a way. They must do it all the time.

We can’t even reach her thingies.

I bet that cow could tear this place apart if she wanted.

I mean, look at her! She keeps getting more upset. Her

udder looks like it’s about to burst. Who knows what kind

of powers she has. Her milk lets people see fairies. The last

thing we need is a giant magical cow running around loose.

It could be total mayhem.

Folding his arms, Seth surveyed the task. This is

impossible.

We need to search the closets. Maybe they have special

tools.

What about Grandpa?

We’re out of leads, said Kendra. If we don’t milk this

cow, we could end up with a new disaster on our hands.

In the closets they found a variety of tools and equipment,

but no obvious gear for milking gargantuan

cows. There were empty barrels all around, in and out of

closets, which Kendra figured must be used for catching

milk. In one closet Kendra found a couple of A-frame

ladders. These might be all we need, she said.

How do we even get our hands around those things?

We don’t.

There has to be a gigantic milking machine, Seth

said.

I’m not seeing anything like that. But it might work if

we just hug and drop.

Are you nuts?

Why not? Kendra said, motioning between the teats

and the floor. It isn’t that far from the nipples to the

ground.

We’re not trying to use barrels?

No, we can waste the milk. Barrels would get in the

way. We just need to relieve the pressure.

What if she steps on us?

She hardly has any room to move. If we stay under the

udder, we’ll be fine.

They dragged the ladders into position, one beside each

of two teats on the same side of the mammoth cow. They

climbed the ladders. Only by standing one rung from the

top were they high enough to grip the teat near the udder.

Seth stood waiting while Kendra tried to get into position.

These feel wobbly, she said.

Balance.

She hesitantly stood upright. It felt a lot higher than it

had looked from the ground. You ready?

No. I bet this barn will hold her.

We have to at least try.

Hug the thingy and slide down? Seth asked.

We’ll trade off, you, then me, then you, then me.

Then we’ll do the other side.

How about you start it?

You’re better at this sort of stuff, Kendra said.

That’s true, I milk a lot of giant cows. I’ll show you my

trophies sometime.

Seriously, you start, urged Kendra.

What if it hurts her?

I don’t think we’re big enough. I’m more worried that

we’re not going to be able to get any out.

So I should squeeze as hard as I can, Seth confirmed.

Sure.

Once I do it, you’ll do it, and we’ll just keep going as

fast as we can.

And if I ever find a giant cow milking trophy, I’ll buy

it for you, Kendra offered.

I’d rather we kept it our little secret. You ready?

Go for it.

Hesitantly Seth placed a hand against the huge teat.

The cow mooed, and he recoiled, crouching and grabbing

the ladder with both hands to steady himself. Kendra tried

to stay balanced as she laughed. Finally the foghorn moo

ended.

I changed my mind, Seth said.

I’ll count to three, said Kendra.

You go first or I’m not doing it. I almost fell and wet

my pants at the same time.

One… two… three!

Seth stepped off the ladder, embracing the teat. He slid

down it and fell to the floor along with an impressive jet of

milk. Kendra stepped off and hugged the teat as well. Even

with her holding tightly, it slid through her embrace faster

than she expected. She hit the floor with warm milk

already soaking her jeans.

Seth was on his way back up the ladder. I’m already

disgusted, he said, stepping off and sliding down again.

This time he kept his feet when he landed. Kendra went up

and slid down again. Hugging as hard as she could, she

descended a little more slowly, but still fell over when she

hit the floor. Already milk was everywhere.

Soon they fell into a rhythm, both of them landing on

their feet most of the time. The engorged udder hung low,

and they got better at using the teat-hug to control their

fall. Milk gushed copiously. While they were sliding, the

teats sprayed like fire hoses. It must have been at least seventy

jumps each before the output began to slacken.

Other side, Kendra gasped, breathing hard.

My arms are dead, Seth complained.

We have to hurry.

They scooted the ladders over and repeated the process.

Kendra tried to pretend she was on a surreal playground,

where the kids waded in milk instead of sand and slid down

thick, meaty poles.

Kendra focused on climbing the ladder and landing as

lightly as possible. She worried that if either action became

routine, she could have a bad accident, spraining an ankle,

breaking a bone, or worse.

At the first sign that the flow of milk was slackening,

they collapsed in exhaustion, not worried about lying in

milk because their clothes and hair were already drenched.

Both of them gulped air desperately. Kendra put a hand to

her neck. My heart is beating like a jackhammer.

I thought I was going to puke, that was so foul, complained

Seth.

I’m more tired than sick.

Think about it. You’re dripping with warm, raw milk

while your face rubs down a cow nipple about a hundred

times.

More than that.

We doused the whole barn, Seth said. I’m never

drinking milk again.

I’m never going to the playground, Kendra vowed.

What?

Hard to explain.

Seth scanned the area under the cow. The floor has

drains, but I don’t think much of the milk is going down.

I saw a hose. I doubt the cow would like milk rotting

all over the place. Kendra sat up and squeezed milk out of

her hair. That was the best workout I ever had. I’m dead.

If I did that every day I’d look like Hercules, said

Seth.

You mind grabbing the ladders?

Not if you do the hosing.

The hose was long and had good water pressure, and

the drains seemed to have plenty of capacity. Flushing the

milk away turned out to be the easiest part of the process.

Seth had Kendra hose him off, and then returned the favor.

From the time the milking began in earnest, the cow

made no more noise and displayed no more interest in

them. They called for Grandpa and Lena in the barn, just

to be sure, starting with small voices to avoid startling the

cow and gradually building to shouts. As had been their lot

all day, their calls went unanswered.

Should we go back to the house? Kendra asked.

I guess. It will be dark before long.