Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters (9 page)

She walks briskly out of my room. Inu gets up and lopes after her. Peyton and I look at each other.

“I guess we better do what she says,” Peyton says.

I look out my window at the brand-new ocean and I want to crawl under the bookcase and hide. But then I think of Dad. He's still alive—someplace—and it's up to me to bring him back. “I guess so.”

We follow my grandmother. She barrels downstairs and out of the house, a waterproof messenger bag in her hands. I didn't know she could still move half that fast.

The sun's low in the sky, starting to set—at the appropriate hour this time. Obāchan splashes into the water up to her ankles. “Come here.”

We obey. She puts the nylon messenger bag over Peyton, crosswise. “Time is different where you're going. You have five sunsets until your parents will even know you are gone.”

Peyton and I exchange another glance—mine alarmed, his gleeful. “Five days away from my parents? I volunteer!” He sloshes into the water, then pauses, shading his eyes against the setting sun. “Okay, what do you mean by where we're going? All I see is a whole lot of water.”

“If we have to swim, I'm definitely out.” I take off my socks and wade into the warm water. I'm not a great swimmer. I look like a frog having a seizure.

Peyton belly-flops onto the shore. “Get on my back. I'll carry you, sea-turtle style.”

I don't want to. Somehow this is even more humiliating than the notion of me not being able to swim alone. Peyton really is my bodyguard, not my sidekick. “You can't carry me. We don't even know where we're going. It might be like ten miles. Then we'll both drown.”

“Nope.” Peyton's all confidence. “I won't let us.”

“What if there's a shark?”

“I'll punch its eye out.” Peyton stands up again. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I'm not getting on your back, okay? No way.”

Obāchan ignores our comments. She takes in a deep breath. Then she hurls the netsuke ship charm into the sea.

It plops like a pebble and disappears.

That was my favorite netsuke. Why'd she do that?

Inu nudges my hand with his cold, wet nose.
Woof, woof!

“What?” I say. He whines.

I look where my dog's looking. Hear the sound of rushing water, like a very large bathtub filling up.

A great wooden shaft thrusts out of the water. A tree trunk, maybe? I blink, my brain trying to process all this new stuff and failing miserably.

The ocean tries to shove the tree trunk back down, but it fights, bobbing, and finally the water spits the whole thing out.

An enormous wooden ship bursts from the sea, sending a chest-high wave at me.

T
he wave knocks me off my feet, flips me over. When I finally emerge, hacking, Obāchan is just standing there, smiling serenely, as if she's seeing us off to school.
No big deal. I just threw a tiny charm into an ocean that wasn't there before, and a huge boat appeared.
“Are you ready?” she asks.

“For what? To get on that?” I don't want to move. The ship's a few hundred yards offshore, at least. That's like the length of three Olympic-size pools. I can't even swim one. “Isn't there a little rowboat to take us?”

It looks like a wooden pirate ship. Last year, my class spent the night on the
Star of India
, an old ship moored in San Diego harbor, and we had to learn about this kind of vessel. The first thing they told us is that a ship like this needs a big crew to manage the sails and everything.

The
Star of India
is more than two hundred feet long. I figure this one is about half that size. It has two masts and big white canvas sails. The taller mast has what I think is the Japanese flag flying from the top. Then I see that the giant circle isn't red, but peach-colored.

It's Momotaro's boat.

“Am I asleep?” Peyton whispers.

I punch his arm as hard as I can. He doesn't even flinch. I pinch myself. Ouch. “Nope.”

He nods, looking dazed. “All righty, then.”

Inu jumps into the water and starts swimming. Peyton shrugs and dives in himself. Of course he would. It's so easy for him, he might as well be crossing the street.

“Obāchan?” I say in the tiniest voice I've ever heard. “I can't do this.”

My grandmother's beautiful face beams. “Sometimes, Xander, the best way to start something scary is to just jump in.” With that, my tiny, ancient grandma shoves me into the ocean.

“Whoa!” Suddenly I'm in deep water. Flailing my limbs, I manage to keep my head in the air. “Aren't you coming, too?” I call to Obāchan.

“No.” Obāchan takes a step backward. “Have faith, Xander. Faith and imagination.”

Imagination, yes. Apparently my imagination is so great it works without me, drawing whole comic books and hilarious pictures of my enemies while I'm not paying attention. But the faith part—I have no idea what Obāchan means by that.

Somehow I don't think faith and imagination are going to kill any demons.

I look toward the ship. Peyton and Inu are already there, Peyton helping Inu climb a rope ladder that's dangling into the water. Inu grips each rung with his teeth as he scrambles ever higher.

“Are you sure you can't come with—” I turn back to my grandmother again.

Obāchan's gone.

In fact, everything's gone.

My house is missing.

Where it once stood there's just barren, black, flat rock. A desert of rock. For as far as I can see. Not a single building or hill or stick of tree on it.

I feel like I just porked down an entire large pepperoni pizza and guzzled a liter of root beer on top of it. But I have to start swimming, because I'm already sinking.

I make my way to the boat, slower than a turtle on land.
Woof!
Inu barks at me from the deck.

Peyton sticks his head over the railing. “Just grab the ladder and climb up.”

I grip the rope. “Really? I thought I was
not
going to grab it and just drown.”

“Ha-ha.” Peyton watches me climb. “Just get to where I can reach you, and I'll pull you up.”

I grunt and wheeze. Climbing a rope ladder like this looks a lot easier than it actually is. The ladder bangs against the side of the ship, smashing my fingers, and clutching it for dear life is giving me rope burn. I grit my teeth. If I'm this exhausted already, how am I ever going to get to wherever my dad is? I'll be in a wheelchair by then.

Finally, when I'm near the top, Peyton grabs me under the armpits and hoists me all the way onto the deck. I sprawl face-first, my palms splayed on the polished wood. At least there are no splinters. Inu shakes himself dry, getting bits of fur and doggy water all over me. I sit up, breathing hard.

“You made it.” Peyton claps my back.

“Barely.” If this is Part One of being a warrior, I don't think I'll survive any other part. I still can't catch my breath with the cramp that's knifing my side. Now I wish I'd chosen to jog around the track during PE instead of just walking. If only the coach had yelled,
Xander, run, because one day you might be on a pirate ship searching for your father and fighting demons.
If I'd known that, I definitely would have tried harder in that class.

I look around. It's full-on night now, but a light glows from below. “Are we alone?”

Peyton, on the other hand, appears to be experiencing emotions opposite of mine. “Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Totally alone. How awesome is this? No parents. No adults. Nobody telling us what to do!” He climbs six feet up the netting that hugs the mast. “Woo-hoo!”

Well, it's nice that
he's
feeling at home here. But I'm not. How are Peyton and I supposed to sail this thing by ourselves? I've never even rowed a boat. Not even in a video game. And sailing is the one activity Peyton's dad hasn't done with him.

Maybe I don't have to worry about it. The wind flaps through the canvas sails, and there's a creaking noise as the sails shift on their own.

The ship glides away from shore.

W
e descend a short ladder into the cabin, helping Inu balance on the rungs. There's a small kitchen with a wooden table and a bench built into the side of the ship.
Galley
, I correct myself. That's what a kitchen is called on a ship. No fridge, but there is an old-looking gas stove and cupboards. One lamp glows above the table.

Kerosene sconces on the walls burst into life as soon as our feet touch the floor. Torches with sensors?

Peyton busies himself opening cupboards. “I could eat an elephant. Or at least a large pony.” He shakes his head. “Sheesh. Nothing.” He slams a door shut.

My gut agrees with him, growling so loud that Inu cocks his head at me. He wags his tail and yips. “You hungry, too, Inu?” I guess the swim settled my stomach. You wouldn't think I'd want to eat after all that has happened, but we hadn't been able to finish our dinner before the world turned upside down. I start looking through the cupboards, too. “If I were food, where would I be hiding?”

Inu sniffs around and points with his snout at the cabinet above a hammered copper sink.
Woof!

That alone is a really good reason to have a dog around: sense of smell.

I open the cupboard and inside is a lacquered square
bento
box. It's full of rice balls.
Onigiri
, my grandma calls them. Made of steamed white rice, with meat or another treat in the center. I pop one into my mouth and bite down. “Chicken.” I sit on the bench at the built-in table. I throw one to Inu, overshooting his head, but Inu stands up and catches it anyway. “Good boy!”

Peyton slides in next to me and puts two rice balls in his mouth so he looks like a chipmunk. “Chicken and…” He makes a face and spits a chewed-up mass of soggy rice into his palm. “Ew. Super salty and sour.”

I recognize it from Obāchan's arsenal. “That's a salted dried plum. Obāchan gives those to me when my stomach hurts. You can suck on it and you'll feel better.”

He makes a face. “Are you kidding? Sucking on this will definitely make me barf.” Peyton looks around for a place to throw it away, but Inu eats it out of his hand.

I pluck out a second rice ball. Inu licks his chops, so I throw it to him and take another for myself. Then I hesitate. This is all the food we have. Maybe I should save it for later. But my stomach rumbles, and I take it out anyway. Peyton knows how to fish. We'll be fine.

The ship's course seems steady. “Do you think this thing is preprogrammed to go someplace?”

“Or it's magic,” Peyton says. “That's my bet.”

Magic. Fairy tales. If you'd asked me before today, before this hour, if I believed in magic, I'd have said no. I'm not a little kid. I don't believe in Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy or anything like that anymore.

But I can't exactly explain away all this with technology, can I? “Maybe we're in the Matrix and this is all in our heads.” I eat yet another rice ball. My stomach begins to feel full.

“Or maybe we're already dead,” Peyton says in a way that lets me know he's kidding, but not quite kidding.

Maybe my father's already dead.
No
, something deep inside me whispers. No. My grandmother knows what she's doing. I have to trust her. “We're not.”

Peyton glances sideways at me. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Peyton opens the food box again. “In that case, I might as well eat another rice ball.”

“No! We better save the rest.” I clap my hand down on the box.

Peyton pulls it toward himself. “What are you talking about? It's full again.” He shows me. Yes, indeed, the box has refilled itself with fat balls of onigiri. For the first time aboard this ship, I smile.

We sit quietly for a minute, staring at each other, the walls, and Inu, who wags his tail. “No TV on board, huh?” I say.