The train pulled out of the station at a slow speed but within seconds was shooting through the Japanese countryside like a flying serpent. Digger, Corliss, Pam and Yukiko had seated themselves in a compartment inside the train’s fifth car. Digger and Pam faced each other, both beside the window, and Corliss and Yukiko sat next to the aisle. Across the aisle, their parents chatted in another four-seat compartment.
Mrs. Happer chirpily remarked on how much fun they’d all be having, and Digger wondered if that was true. He wasn’t so hopeful, and figured they wouldn’t find any traces of his father at the old house. Even if his father had left something behind, years had passed, and he’d learned that both people and things go missing over time.
And were they actually going into a forest where vicious creatures lurked? The thought made his stomach uneasy. It terrified him. And why had his uncle taken him along, anyway? Even if they came across another page from that ancient book—a page only he could read—those words wouldn’t explain what happened to his father.
Of course, he would not mention any of his doubts or fears to his uncle. He wouldn’t say anything to his mother either. Her worries about Wendy sinking into the sea had been replaced by fresh uncertainties, about the Aomori woodlands. Digger didn’t want to load her up with his own fears as well. And Corliss and Pam—he wouldn’t dare tell them he was scared. They weren’t afraid of anything. What’s more, whenever they called him “fraidy cat” or “wimpy boy,” it made him feel like he was shrinking.
Corliss went off to explore the train. Yukiko was nice enough to let Pam touch her jade bracelet. Pam also saw a colorful plastic package in Yukiko’s hand. “What’s that? Food?”
“Yes—a Japanese snack,” Yukiko said. “Dried squid. Go ahead. Take one. It’s chewy.”
Pam and Digger both pulled a stringy yellowish strand from the bag and started to chew. Salty and sweet, the squid tasted okay, but lots of jaw work was needed before they could swallow a single piece.
“I’ve never eaten anything like this.” Pam chewed and chewed.
“Never?” Yukiko seemed surprised.
“Nope—but Digger saw a squid last night. And it was a Cracker.”
“Huh?”
“Kraken, Pam,” Digger corrected.
Yukiko yawned and said “Architeuthis,” then popped another piece of squid into her mouth.
“What’s that mean?” Digger asked.
She finished chewing and swallowed. “Architeuthis” she repeated louder. “A gigantic cephalopod—or squid. I’ve seen them too. Not so special, really.”
She was clearly uninterested in Digger’s story. And he wondered if Corliss had taken off because he couldn’t stand being around her. Hopefully, Digger thought, she’ll be nicer by the time we get to the village.
Yukiko took a book out of her bag and opened it to a page in the middle.
Unable to read the Japanese title, Digger wanted to ask her what the book was about. But obviously she wasn’t in the mood for talking, so he gazed out the window.
Rocky seaside outcrops had become narrow green valleys. Thick patches of forest spread through steep ravines and valleys, with ridges rising up into layers of grey mist. The train had entered into a dimmed world. It was late afternoon. Was daylight fading? Or was the forest stealing the light?
Corliss plopped into his seat. The professor leaned across the aisle, peering past them and out the window.
“There could be Kappas in those hills,” he said softly.
Digger imagined a hunchbacked creature in a river gnawing on a helpless cow. He squeezed his eyes shut and then blinked to clear his thoughts.
Corliss challenged the professor. “Doubt that,” he said. “Have you got any pictures to prove it?”
“Corliss,” Pam said sternly, hoping to remind her brother to be respectful.
The professor straightened himself. The blur of trees outside the window seemed to have mesmerized him. In a more casual tone he said, “Well, if not Kappas, then Japanese macaques.”
“What are those?” Pam asked.
“Macaques are monkeys. They get big up here in the mountains. They’ll sneak up on you to snatch your food. Kids, if you come across one, or more than one, you’d better keep your distance.”
Digger wasn’t sure if the professor was joking. Regardless, talk of monkeys wasn’t as unsettling for Digger as talk of monsters, a topic everyone else seemed so eager to dwell on.
“As for Kappa photos, some people claim to have taken such pictures. I’ve seen a couple shots myself. One was of a small shadowy figure hunched over the edge of a pond. In the other picture, a little face was peeping out from behind a twisted tree—far away and too fuzzy for anyone to say for sure what it was—quite possibly a monkey or raccoon dog. Unfortunately, photos aren’t always reliable as evidence.”
“Are the monkeys really dangerous?” Digger asked, aware that Corliss was rolling his eyes at such a “wimpy” question.
Yukiko’s cold sarcasm came like the crack of a whip. “Yes, they’ll eat you whole if you get too close.” She clicked her tongue once, to taunt him more.
The professor muttered something in her ear. And although Digger couldn’t understand what the professor said, he could easily guess when Yukiko crossed her arms and her face went pouty.
“Monkeys shouldn’t be a problem for us,” the professor went on. “They’d rather watch us from the trees or soak in a hot spring than chase us. Our main concern should be Kappas. On the other hand, those stories about Kappas might just be from centuries-old myths—legends told in villages to scare children away from rivers and forests.”
“I’m gonna use one of the johns on this train,” Corliss bluntly announced.
“No. Wait!” Digger startled them. The knot in his stomach had tightened so much it now hurt. This feeling hadn’t come from stories of sea beasts or mountain-dwelling turtle men, though; it was something else—a sense that something bad would happen if Corliss, or any of them, went off alone.
“Wait for what, Dig? Nature calls.”
“What is it, Digger?” Mr. Happer asked, leaning across the aisle. “Everything okay?”
He must have sounded ridiculous, panicking about Corliss going to use a restroom. He wanted to fake a smile for his uncle but couldn’t. That awful feeling in his gut was growing.
“I’ll go too,” Digger said, figuring it was the only thing he could say to stop everyone from staring at him.
“Come on then,” Corliss said. “They’re six or seven cars that way.”
From one train car to the next, Digger felt the uneasiness expanding into his chest. He’d never been so queasy. It was pure dread, and his body felt as if it was stuffed with moths.
He continued down the aisle. The automatic doors between cars slid open with a suction sound. He winced at the brightness of side-by-side vending machines radiating flashy bottled drinks. The train floor moved up and down and jerked about like a surfboard or sled or flying carpet.
When they reached the end of the sixth car, the doors slid open to a space with several restrooms. “I’ll take this one.” Corliss went in and the door shut behind him.
Digger stumbled into the next one. He didn’t know what was happening to him. His heart was a battle drum. His shoulders were as stiff as dried-out playdough. Shady images raced through his mind. He was dizzy. He splashed some water onto his face. What’s wrong with me? The dried squid? Am I sick?
Then the door of another restroom opened with a bang. Hard, heavy boots clopped four or five steps. And Digger leaned against the door, breathing deeply, trying not to throw up.
After what seemed like minutes but was merely seconds, he heard those boots again. Whoever wore them was now walking away.
He opened the door a crack—barely an eye’s width—and caught a glimpse of the long beard and dark coat of a tall man with a broad back, who also wore a black cowboy hat. Digger couldn’t see the man’s face. The heels on his leather boots looked hard enough to split rocks.
Digger shuddered as he watched the man go into the next train car. When the door on that car shut, Digger’s racing heart slowed down. And the murky shadows which had been swirling in his head were now dissolving.
Corliss stepped out with the sound of a flushing toilet. He saw Digger peeking out through the door crack.
“What the heck’s up with you, Dig?” He laughed. “Your head get stuck?”
“No.” He didn’t know what to tell Corliss. “. . . I was just coming out.”
Afraid of boots clopping? Of passengers? Of nothing and everything? He reminded himself not to act like a big fat chicken.
Digger and Corliss got back to their seats just as the train’s horn sounded—an abrupt screeching cry. “We’ll be pulling into the station any second now,” Mr. Happer said excitedly, firing glances out all the train car windows. Mrs. Doyle, arms folded, took in the hilly scenery as the train slowed. Then she sighed deeply, before rocking Mrs. Happer’s elbow to rouse her from a catnap.
Pam’s knees were on her seat and her hands pressed against the window. The nearest mountain, a perfect cone, pointed at the sky. In stark contrast to Pam and her excitement, Yukiko didn’t seem to care at all where they were. She closed her book coolly, yawned, and tipped her head to one side, perhaps to crack her neck. How many adventures had she been on? Digger wondered. Meanwhile, Corliss was chewing the last strand of dried squid with disgust.
The professor and Mrs. Happer removed the rucksacks and other luggage from the racks by the exit. And Mr. Happer put the Plastron-Zetetic strap over his shoulder.
Digger was anxious to see which of the other passengers would be getting off at the station. With any luck, he thought, the man in black boots and a hat would not be. With any more luck, that man would be traveling to the other side of Japan, or someplace even farther.