Fortune's Magic Farm (10 page)

Neptune had the strangest nose Isabelle had ever seen and certainly the largest, so she wouldn’t be lying. How was it possible that a creature from the sea could understand human language? All those times she had talked to her barnacle about her boring factory job, had it actually been listening?

“Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Sage gave Isabelle a shove and she stumbled forward.

What a bully! She took a deep breath. “YOU HAVE A LOVELY NOSE!” She wasn’t used to yelling and it sent her into a coughing fit.

The elephant seal opened an eye and scrunched his face into a frown.

“No, no,” Sage said. “
Lovely
is a word for girl seals. You must compliment the
size
of the nose.”

Isabelle cleared her throat. “YOU HAVE THE MOST ENORMOUS NOSE I HAVE EVER SEEN!” Sage motioned for her to continue. “DID I SAY ENORMOUS? I MEANT GARGANTUAN!”

This time, the seal smiled.

Rolo the Raven circled overhead. “Caw, caw.”

“Are you certain?” Sage asked the bird. He ran up the beach, so light on his feet that he barely disturbed the sand. He pointed around the rocky outcropping, toward the cove. “Here they come,” he said. “Looks like that Mr. Hench has a few men with him. We’d better get going.” He whistled.
Eve the cat crawled out from under a log and jumped into the satchel. Rolo continued to caw frantically.

Sage ran back to Neptune. “WE’D BE VERY GRATEFUL IF YOU’D HAUL YOUR FAT BUTT INTO THE WATER!”

Neptune roared, then raised himself onto his flippers and waddled into the shallows.

“Telling an elephant seal that he has a fat butt is actually a compliment,” Sage explained, gathering the satchel. After following Neptune into the water, he grabbed the saddle’s horn and pulled himself up. “Come on,” he urged.

Isabelle grabbed the pickle jar and waded in. Her legs didn’t feel a bit wet or cold. The suit really worked. If all the people of Runny Cove owned kelp suits they’d never feel damp again.

“We can’t take that,” Sage said, pointing to the aquarium. “It’s too big.”

“But there’s no one here to take care of it,” Isabelle pointed out.

“Just drop the barnacle into the water.”

She looked down at her boots. The shallows were sandy. “But there aren’t any other barnacles here. I don’t want it to be all alone.”

“Fine.” Sage reached in and grabbed the rock upon which the barnacle had attached itself. Then he stuffed the rock into the satchel’s side pocket. “The barnacle can live without water for a few days. No problem.”

Yellow light flooded the beach. “Thief!” Mr. Hench rounded the rocky corner, swinging his lantern. Two of Mr. Supreme’s assistants followed, their long white coats billowing in the morning wind. “You’re under arrest!”

Sage held out his hand but Isabelle didn’t need his help, not with Mr. Hench closing in. She tossed the pickle jar onto the beach, then leapt behind Sage, swinging her leg over the saddle with the grace of a seasoned jockey.

“Put this around your middle to keep you safe,” Sage ordered, handing her a rope. Then he knotted the ends around his own middle. Was she tied to him for safety or had she become his captive? At that moment she didn’t care. She just had to get out of there!

“Stop, thief!” Mr. Hench yelled, reaching the water’s edge.

“I’m not a thief,” Isabelle cried. “Take the stupid pickle jar. I don’t want it.”

“Hey, where do you think you’re going? You’ve got extra hours to work,” one of the assistants called.

“Mr. Supreme will be plenty mad about this,” Mr. Hench hollered. “You get back here.” He raised his lantern. The light blinded Isabelle. She wrapped her arms around Sage’s waist and pressed her face against his back.

“SWIM!” Sage yelled, kicking the seal’s sides. “SWIM, YOU BIG-NOSED BRUTE!”

Neptune pushed forward. As soon as he reached deep water, his flabby, rotund body moved as gracefully as a bird
in flight. “THAT’S MY SEAL!” Sage yelled as Neptune cut sleekly through the surf.

Isabelle looked over her shoulder. Mr. Hench, who was jumping up and down in a temper tantrum, grew smaller and smaller until he looked as small as a slug on a trampoline.

Rolo the Raven landed on Sage’s shoulder. Eve growled unhappily from the satchel, for it is well known that cats do not enjoy sea travel.

“Hold on,” Sage said. “Here we go.”

Terrified, Isabelle tightened her arms around Sage’s waist as Neptune picked up speed. The only home she had ever known disappeared from view, and with it the only people she had ever loved, now doomed to work longer and harder to make Mr. Supreme richer and richer.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered. “I promise that I’ll come back and find a way to help you.”

A
journey usually includes sights
to see along the way, like the world’s largest ball of twine, a castle made from sand, or maybe even a waxed figure museum. But just beyond Runny Cove, fog rolled in, as thick as porridge. Isabelle narrowed her eyes, straining for a glimpse of anything, but found nothing. Was she drifting across the sea or across the sky? The only way to tell that they were actually moving was from the constant swaying of Neptune’s body. But she was on her way and that was all that mattered. She was going to find out where she had come from and in that place a family waited—
her
family.

Isabelle bombarded Sage with questions. “Will I meet my mother and father? Are they tenders too? Do I have any brothers or sisters? Is there going to be a party when I get there? Do I look like my mother? Is she nice? Does my father work in a factory?” She didn’t get to ask the most important question of all—
Why was I left on a doorstep?
—because Sage cut her off.

“I can’t answer any questions about your family.”

“You mean you don’t know the answers?”

“Of course I know, but it’s really complicated. Besides, someone else wants to tell you.”

“Who?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Now stop jabbering.”

Isabelle folded her arms and “hmphed” with frustration.
She wasn’t jabbering. Asking important questions about one’s heritage is totally different from jabbering. You’ll find out
soon enough,
he had said. Soon enough seemed like an eternity. She leaned against the saddleback and watched the fog drift past.

With nothing to look at, some might have considered the ride boring. But not Isabelle. She
knew
boring and this was the furthest thing from it. Her frustration quickly turned to excitement, for never in her ten years had she gone anywhere. And the most amazing thing of all, more amazing even than riding on an elephant seal, was that it had stopped raining.

Eve poked her head out of the satchel a few times, then curled up for a nap. Rolo sat on Sage’s shoulder, his beak tucked under his black wing. Isabelle wiped sea mist from her face. Neither she nor Sage wore their hoods, since the temperature was quite comfortable.

She decided to risk a non-family question. “Are we almost there?”

He sighed. “No. We’ve got to travel west for most of the day until we reach the Tangled Islands.”

“Is that where Nowhere is? West?”

“West to the Tangled Islands, then north to the Northern Shore. But you might as well start calling Nowhere by its real name—Fortune’s Farm.”

Grandma Maxine had told Isabelle about farms. There had once been a goat farm and a parsley farm in Sunny Cove. They sounded like pretty places. And the fishermen
had often visited a worm farm. “How does Neptune know how to get there? Can he see through all this fog?”

“He can smell the place.” Sage turned half around. Mist sparkled at the ends of his long black lashes. How different he looked. There didn’t appear to be a speck of mold on him and he didn’t wheeze when he breathed like most everyone in Runny Cove. “Neptune’s harem lives on the Northern Shore. Last time I counted he had twenty-three wives. You ever smelled a herd of elephant seals?”

Isabelle scratched the itchy patch above her right ear. “Neptune is the first elephant seal I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even know they existed.”

“You don’t know a lot,” Sage said, smirking condescendingly. That may have been the truth. After all, she had never been to school. But did he have to be so rude?

“I’m a fast learner,” she said. “Leonard once showed me how to skip rocks and I learned right away. And my grandma taught me how to make a quilt out of old socks.”

“You’d better be a fast learner or when you get to Fortune’s Farm your head will spin right off.” He turned back around. “I’m going to take a nap. It’s a long journey so you should take one too.” He slumped forward, resting his head on the satchel.

Isabelle couldn’t recall ever taking a nap. If she accidentally dozed while standing at the conveyor belt, one of the assistants would wallop her on the head. Besides, if she napped during the sea elephant ride she might miss something. She settled against the saddle and stared into the fog.

Like the ocean’s swells, her thoughts rolled and tumbled and her emotions peaked and crested. Going to Nowhere thrilled her. Knowing that she’d never again see her grandmother saddened her. The fact that it had stopped raining amazed her. Riding over deep water scared her. She felt goosebumpy and shivery and sweaty at the same time. So, to ease her mind, she began to compose a little song, which she sang in her head so as not to disturb Sage.

The Elephant Seal Song

Salty water swooshing past,

I might fall off ’cause he’s swimming fast.

But I don’t care ’cause this is a blast,

on the back of an elephant seal.

What a marvelous way to feel, on the back of an elephant seal.

I hope Mr. Supreme gets fleas,

and Mama Lu chokes on cheese.

Look at me, doing what I please,

on the back of an elephant seal.

What a marvelous way to feel, on the back of an elephant seal.

Suddenly she felt lightheaded and woozy. The bread churned in her stomach. She felt worse than she had ever felt, even worse than the time when she’d eaten a bowl of
Mama Lu’s “What’s that growing in the back of the icebox?” soup. Come the third verse, Isabelle’s song took a different tone.

Up down up down goes the seal,

down up down up goes my meal.

But I don’t care how bad I feel,

on the back of an elephant seal.

What a horrid way to feel, on the back of an elephant seal.

Isabelle was seasick. And being seasick is no fun at all.

If you made a list titled “Terrible Things That Are Temporary,” seasickness would rank higher than smashing your finger with a hammer, stubbing your toe so hard that the toenail falls off, or accidentally shooting yourself in the bottom with an arrow. It is very common to hear a person who is suffering from seasickness say, “Dear God, please kill me now.”

Isabelle felt like a spinning top. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile from coming. No use. She leaned over Neptune’s flank as far as she could and upchucked into the fog.

“What was that?” Sage asked, rubbing his eyes in confusion as Isabelle upchucked again. “Uh oh. You’re not used to this kind of motion.” He twisted around as far as he could.

“I feel horrible,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Could you take off this rope? It’s so tight around my waist. I think it’s making things worse.”

Sage shook his head. “Way too dangerous. You can’t swim, remember?”

Her gut spasmed. “Please. It’s pressing too hard.” She pulled at the rope but it didn’t loosen. She thrashed her legs as nausea washed over her. “Please take it off. I’m going to be sick again.”

“Okay, okay. Just don’t get sick on me.” He untied the rope.

Unfortunately, the rope’s release didn’t make her feel better. Water sloshed against Neptune’s sides as the last bits of bread sloshed in Isabelle’s stomach. Uh oh. UH OH!

“Be careful,” Sage said. “Don’t lean so far…”

And that was the last thing Isabelle heard before her head plunged underwater. It felt as if one of Mr. Supreme’s assistants had boxed her ears, so shocking was the icy ocean on her face. It took her a moment to realize that she had slipped off the seal. Faint ribbons of light shimmered all around. Salt water stung her eyes as she tried to figure out which way was up. She frantically pumped her legs and arms. Her lungs felt like they might explode. She no longer needed to upchuck—she just needed to breathe!

Something clutched the back of her kelp suit. Up, up, up she moved until she burst onto the surface. She took a huge breath, inhaling seawater as well. She coughed, spitting up the briny stuff.

With a huge groan, Sage pulled Isabelle onto the saddle, this time at the front. “Why did I listen to you?” he snarled. “I should never have untied that rope.”

“S… s… sorry.” Though her heart pounded and she still hadn’t caught her breath, the icy plunge seemed to have shocked the seasicknesses right out of her. She pushed her dripping hair from her face as Sage secured the rope. Neptune floated patiently.

“Th… th… thanks,” she stammered.

BAROOO!

A horn blasted through the fog. It sounded exactly like the umbrella factory’s horn.
Oh no,
Isabelle thought.
Has Neptune gone in the wrong direction? Are we back in Runny Cove?