Jackson Jones, Book 1_ The Tale of a Boy, an Elf, and a Very Stinky Fish - Jenn L. Kelly [39]
Jackson sat up quickly, grunting as his shoulder blades burned with pain. “But I lost my stones.”
Meeka gave him a hard look. She put her little hands on her hips and her face screwed up in anger. “Well, you’d better find them, buster! You might be my friend, but you will NOT be the one to keep me from being promoted! I’ve got dreams too you know, and they do not involve remaining a TOUR GUIDE!”
Jackson was taken aback. But he stood up resolutely and brushed the spruce needles and dust off his butt. (Of course I had to use the word butt, it’s a funny word.) He picked up his ripped satchel and tucked it under his arm. He picked up the Book, and Meeka’s little hand grabbed his. And they walked down the forest path that led away from the cliff.
Chapter 60
In Which Jackson Hurries
Sometimes in stories time goes by in the adventure, but not at home. Like in that fabulous book about wardrobes and Turkish delight. This was not the case for Jackson. The actual minutes passing in this adventure were the exact minutes at home, in Jackson’s room, in Jackson’s bed. Jackson’s dad would be snoring away down the hall, and his mom would occasionally yell out “Stop snoring!” And he’d hear his dad mutter something and then start snoring again. His little sister would have her thumb in her mouth and her little stuffed puppy dog under her arm. His little brother would have thrown off all the sheets and be sleeping with his mouth wide open and his arms spread out. Great-Aunt Harriett would be snoring. In two hours, the newspaper would hit the door with a thud, the dog would bark at the door, Dad would sit up and yell at the dog, and Mom would get out of bed and go downstairs to make coffee and breakfast. His little sister would climb out of her crib and come into Jackson’s room to wake him up. But he wouldn’t be there. Not unless he hurried. So we’d better yell at Jackson to hurry up.
HURRY UP, JACKSON!!!!!
Jackson lifted his head. He thought he heard voices yelling at him to hurry up. But it was quiet except for the sound of the river. He shrugged his shoulders and kept walking, holding Meeka’s warm little hand.
Jackson clambered into the river, in an eddy where it was safe. The water was stagnant and brown in this area. (Stagnant means not moving, in case you didn’t have a dictionary handy and really, you should always have a dictionary handy to look up words you read but don’t understand and not rely on people like me to explain everything.) Jackson imagined creatures lurking in the water, waiting to grab his ankles. Kind of like his mom’s cabbage-brussels-sprout-beet stew. Not that anything in the stew has grabbed his ankles, but one never knows.
Meeka climbed into the river to follow him.
“No, wait,” said Jackson. “I have to do this on my own.”
Meeka paused a moment and then nodded. She climbed back out and stood on the riverbank.
Jackson gave her a small smile and, with a wave, walked downstream.
Chapter 61
In Which No Questions Are Answered
Will this story ever end? Will Jackson find his stones? Will he give up? What is the cosine of 7.88? What is Spanish for “couch?”
Yes. Keep reading. Keep reading. Get a calculator. Get a Spanish-English dictionary.
On we go.
Chapter 62
In Which a Heart Hurts
Jackson tripped.
He fell into the water, face first. Oh, it was disgusting. The water went up his nose and into his mouth because as he fell, he opened his mouth to say “Oh, I’m falling.” But all that came out was “Oh” and then his mouth filled with disgusting, brown, stagnant water. He quickly sat up, choking and coughing. The water tasted awful. Imagine a lovely glass of fresh water. Then mix in some mud, some little tiny rocks, some desiccated crawfish shells, some fish poop, and some algae. That’s what it tasted like. Blech.
But just as he was thinking how awful it was, Jackson felt something underneath his hand. His fingers