The Fantastic Secret of Owen Jester (6 page)

Viola stopped.

Owen waited.

“Your frog is sick, Owen,” Viola called out, pushing at her glasses.

Owen’s dread-filled stomach did a somersault.

Tooley!

He had been so excited about showing Travis and Stumpy the Water Wonder 4000 that morning that he hadn’t even thought about checking on Tooley.

Niggle.

Niggle.

Owen looked at Travis and Stumpy. They stared back, wide-eyed, waiting.

Owen put his finger to his lips again.

And then he heard the sweet sound of Viola’s sandals on the gravelly ground beside the tracks . . .

. . . walking away.

Phew!

When Owen was fairly certain that she was gone, he motioned for Travis and Stumpy to follow him. Then he scrambled up the side of the slope to the edge of the tracks. Viola was way off in the distance, running toward home.

“She’s been to the pond!” Travis said with an
indignant stamp of his foot. “I thought you said she wouldn’t never go down to the pond.”

Owen let out a sigh and shook his head. “I didn’t think she would.”

“And you said she wouldn’t never come back here to the railroad tracks,” Travis said.

Owen shrugged. What could he say?

“What if she goes back to the pond and lets Tooley out of the cage?” Stumpy said.

“Naw, she wouldn’t do that,” Owen said. But his voice didn’t sound nearly as convincing as he wanted it to.

Owen could only hope that the one good thing about Viola—her allergies—would kick in big-time and keep her away.

“Okay, listen,” he said. “Here’s what we gotta do. We gotta cover the submarine with branches and leaves and stuff so nobody will see it.”

Travis and Stumpy nodded.

“Then,” Owen said, “we gotta go check on Tooley.”

Owen stroked Tooley’s back. The bullfrog blinked.

One slow blink.

“Aw, he ain’t sick,” Travis said.

“Viola’s dumb,” Stumpy said.

Owen held Tooley up and examined his stomach, his throat, his legs.

The bullfrog wasn’t quite as green as he used to be.

His throat wasn’t quite as yellow as it used to be.

The heart-shaped spot between his eyes wasn’t quite as red as it used to be.

Niggle.

Niggle.

“Maybe we should catch another frog to keep him company,” Travis said.

“Maybe he needs a bigger cage,” Stumpy said.

Owen put Tooley back in the cage and shut the lid. The frog climbed up on the log and stared out at the pond with dull yellow eyes.

“Let’s go scoop up some water bugs over yonder on the other side of the pond,” Owen said.

That night, Owen sat by his bedroom window.

The soft, steady chirp of crickets drifted up from the garden below.

Way off in the distance, a dog barked.

And then Owen heard a sound that made him sit up straighter and cock his head.

The deep
r-u-u-u-m-m-m
of a bullfrog.

Owen’s heart did a little flip.

Was that Tooley?

Tooley making a bullfrog sound?

R-u-u-u-m-m-m.

There it was again.

And then . . .

. . . another frog joined in at the same time . . .

. . . and then another . . .

. . . until there seemed to be a whole chorus of bullfrogs.

Owen’s niggle turned into a punch.

Ooomph!

Because Owen realized that all the other bullfrogs down there in the pond were free. Pushing their froggy legs through the dark water under the starry sky.

Calling out their froggy songs from a moonlit log.

But not Tooley.

Tooley was sitting glumly in his perfect cage.

After dumping a jar full of bugs through the chicken wire of Tooley’s cage, Owen raced over to Tupelo Road to Stumpy’s house.

A sprinkler
chug, chug, chugged
in circles in the yard while Owen, Travis, and Stumpy sat on the porch steps and talked about the submarine.

“Should we tell somebody about it?” Stumpy said.

Owen and Travis stared at Stumpy in disbelief.

Travis smacked him on the arm. “Heck, no!” he said.

“Not yet, anyways,” Owen said.

Every now and then, Joleen Berkus appeared at her front door and glared over at the boys.

“I say we get that thing into the pond and go for a ride,” Owen said.

“Heck, yeah!” Travis slapped his knee.

Stumpy frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Then stay home, diaper-head baby,” Travis said. “Me and Owen’ll do it, right, Owen?”

Owen’s mind raced.

Could they really get the submarine into the pond?

How in the world would they get it there?

And even if they got it there, could they actually figure out how to make it run?

Could they
really
zip along under the water, gazing out at the pond from the bubble-shaped windows?

Owen nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “We
will
do it.”

He and Travis slapped each other a high five and looked at Stumpy.

“You in or you out?” Owen said, holding his palm up.

Stumpy hesitated.

Then he slowly lifted his hand and lightly tapped Owen’s palm with his own. “I’m in.”

The boys huddled together up in the hayloft of the barn the rest of the morning, planning how they would get the Water Wonder 4000 down to the pond.

The good news was that the submarine was on the same side of the train tracks as the pond.

The bad news was that the submarine was probably heavy.

Real heavy.

The other bad news was that there were a lot of bushes and small scrub pines between the submarine and the pond.

The boys made lists of possible ways they could get the submarine down to the pond, like

Put the submarine on a wagon.

and

Pull the submarine behind a riding lawn mower.

Then they made lists of supplies they might need, like rope and chains and bungee cords.

Sometimes the idea of getting the submarine into the pond seemed like the greatest idea Owen had ever had.

Other times, it seemed stupid and impossible.

Then there was the problem of actually driving the submarine. Could they really figure out how to do it?

As if he had read Owen’s mind, Travis said, “Do you think we can figure out how to make that sub run?”

Owen shrugged. “There’s not that many switches
inside. Maybe we can just fiddle around with them a little bit.”

“Maybe there’s instructions somewhere,” Stumpy said.

Owen and Travis stared at Stumpy.

Stumpy never had good ideas.

Stumpy never thought of stuff before Travis and Owen did.

But now he had.

“Instructions!” Owen said. “Yeah! I bet there’s instructions somewhere!”

Owen and Travis high-fived Stumpy, and they all hurried out of the hayloft, whistled for Pete and Leroy, and raced across the yard, through the woods, and around the pond to the train tracks.

They scrambled down the slope toward the submarine.

And then . . .

. . . they stopped.

There in front of them, standing next to the Water Wonder 4000, staring through thick glasses with red-rimmed eyes, was Viola.

Travis let a string of cusswords fly, and Stumpy broke off a branch and hurled it at Viola’s feet while Owen stood stiff with anger, meeting Viola’s fly-eyed gaze with narrowed eyes.

“I know what that is,” she said, wiping her nose with the palm of her hand and nodding toward the Water Wonder 4000.

“Go away!” Owen yelled.

“That’s a submarine,” Viola said, and then whipped a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose.

“Mind your own business,” Travis snapped.

“Yeah!” Stumpy hollered.

“A submersible,” Viola said.

The boys looked at each other.

“Go away,” Owen said again, knowing full well that Viola wasn’t going anywhere.

“It came from Canada.” Viola waved a jagged-edged piece of wood at them. “This is the shipping label that was on the crate.”

Travis narrowed his eyes. “What crate?”

“The crate the submarine was in, dummy,” Viola said.

“Let me see that.” Owen yanked the piece of wood out of Viola’s hand and studied it.

Sure enough, a label with two addresses was on the wood.

The submarine had come
from
Water Wonder Technologies, Inc., in British Columbia, Canada.

It had been going
to
Sun and Sand Tropical Resort in Miami, Florida.

Owen hated it when Viola figured things out before he did.

“So what?” he said.

“So, you’ve got to tell somebody about this submarine.” Viola wiped at her watery eyes.

“No way!” Travis said.

“Then that’s the same as stealing.” Viola gestured
toward the little red submarine. “I bet that cost a lot of money. You can’t just keep it.”

“We can do anything we want to. Right, Owen?” Stumpy said.

Owen tossed the piece of wood into the bushes. Pete and Leroy trotted over and sniffed it.

“Who said we’re keeping it?” Owen said.

Travis and Stumpy looked at each other, then stared at Owen, waiting.

“Then what are you going to do about it?” Viola said.

“We’re, um, we’re going to, um . . .” Owen shuffled the toe of his sneaker in the leaves, his mind racing. “We’re going to call the railroad company and tell them all about it,” he said. “So you can go on home now.”

He smiled at Viola.

A big, fake smile.

“Yeah,” Travis said. “You can go on home now.” He pushed Viola. Not hard. But just enough to make her stumble a little and send her glasses sliding down her nose.

“I know all about submarines,” she said. “I did my science fair project on submarines last year. I know
everything
about them.”

“You do not,” Owen said.

But he knew she was right.

Viola was always right.

Owen was certain that Viola
did
know everything about submarines.

Viola knew everything about everything.

Aggravation swirled around inside Owen like a tornado.

Viola folded her arms and lifted her chin. “That’s an ambient-pressure submarine,” she said.

“There ain’t no such thing as that!” Travis said.

Owen kicked a piece of gravel in her direction. “Go away,” he said.

Viola sneezed. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go tell Earlene y’all need the phone number of the railroad company so you can call them and tell them about the submarine.” She pushed past the boys and started up the slope toward the tracks.

“Wait!” Owen called after her.

Viola turned. Little red splotches had begun to appear on her neck.

“Look, Viola,” Owen said. “We
are
going to call the railroad company. We just want to check this thing out first.” He lifted his eyebrows and waited.

Viola scratched her neck.

“So, just don’t say anything to anybody about it, okay?” he said.

“Well . . .” Viola looked over Owen’s shoulder at the submarine. “Maybe.”

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Stumpy said.

Viola scratched. “I’m allergic to pine,” she said. “And ragweed and pigweed and—”

“Then you better go home before you die,” Travis said.

Stumpy snorted.

Owen grinned.

Viola tossed her hair over her shoulder and stomped off toward home. But she hadn’t gotten far when she whirled around and said, “Something’s wrong with that frog of yours, Owen.” She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and added, “I know everything about frogs.”

Owen’s tornado of aggravation was spinning so fast it took all the words right out of his head. All he could think of to say was “You do not.”

Which is exactly what he said.

“You do not!”

Owen watched Viola disappear up the tracks. Then he turned to Travis and Stumpy and said, “Let’s get that submarine in the pond before Viola ruins everything.”

“This is impossible,” Travis said, wiping sweat off his forehead.

Stumpy plopped down in the pine needles and shook his head. “We can’t do this,” he said.

Owen examined the knot in the rope they had tied around the submarine. “Maybe we should bring the tractor down here,” he said.

“There’s too many trees and stuff in the way,” Travis said. “Besides, you don’t even know how to drive that tractor.”

“I do so,” Owen said. “Well, sort of.” He had ridden on his grandfather’s tractor a few times when his dad mowed the field behind the barn. He could probably figure out how to drive it. But Travis was right about
the trees. It would be impossible to drive the tractor from the barn to the train tracks.

The boys had worked all afternoon.

First, they had searched inside the submarine for some kind of instructions about how to run it. They had looked under the seats and in the back between the scuba tanks and even in the bushes and weeds on the slope beside the tracks.

But they hadn’t found a thing.

Owen had used his most convincing voice to assure Travis and Stumpy that they
would
figure out how to run the Water Wonder 4000, but they had to get it down to the pond first.

So they set to work tying rope around the submarine and trying to move it. They had actually managed to drag it a couple of feet, but it was obvious that the Water Wonder 4000 was just too heavy for them to get it all the way to the pond. And even if they could pull it, they were going to have to cut down some trees and bushes to clear a path first.

“Okay,” Owen said, “here’s what we’ve got to do.” He snapped a couple of branches off a scraggly pine tree. “We’ve got to get some saws and clippers and stuff and start clearing a path.”

“That’ll take forever,” Travis said.

“No, it won’t.” Owen pulled at a tangle of vines. “There’s three of us. We just have to find some good tools.”

“What about my dad’s Weedwhacker?” Stumpy said.

Owen shook his head. “Naw. Earlene’ll hear that. We just need saws and hedge clippers and stuff like that.”

The boys bumped their fists together while agreeing to meet in the barn later that day. Then they raced home to see what tools they could find to clear a path.