TWENTY-TWO

Counting to Two

As soon as it got dark, we pushed off, searching for the trolls. Up the river we paddled, clinging to the shadows of the shoreline so that a barge wouldn’t cream us.

Now that the ice was off the river, there was a steady flow of barges hauling grain and coal and gravel. Barges were the reason there were so many new sandbars. For the river to be deep enough to handle them, its main channel had to be dredged constantly. The sand dug up from the bottom had to be spit somewhere, and the closest place for spitting was the riverbanks. The sandbars grew higher with each season of dredging, some rising until as tall as trees or hills or office buildings. They went on and on and could have hidden anything from a small village to a pyramid.

We spotted the trolls’ green campfire about a mile above Big Rock, on the highest sandbar yet. When we pulled into shore, Jim Dandy and Stump treated us better than royalty. Biz stood off to the side of the campfire, not yet ready to throw us kisses.

“What did I tell you?” Jim Dandy crowed when Duke held up the minnow bucket. “What did I tell you?”

“But how did he get them?” Biz asked, his voice squeaky but stubborn, so stubborn that he no longer thought twice about talking in front of us.

“He stole it from a little kid,” I tattled.

“I told you he had promise,” Jim Dandy boasted.

“But did he make the kid cry?” Biz asked, not won over so easily.

“Big tears.” Duke held his hands wide apart to show their size.

“He’s lying,” I told them.

“All the better,” Jim Dandy answered with a laugh. “He’s one of us for sure.”

Even Biz couldn’t help but smile a fraction then. Seeing that, Jim Dandy reached into the minnow bucket, pulled out a wiggling willow cat, and lobbed it over the fire to Stump. Before the shortest troll could drop the fish down his gullet, Biz recovered, saying, “Wait a minute. Let’s count these screens.”

Looking worried that Biz might make him put the fish back, Stump gulped it fast. At the same time, Duke stepped away from me, denying everything.

“It’s her fault.”

Instead of arguing, I took a half-step toward the shadows myself. I needn’t have worried, though. The trolls didn’t blame me for anything. Not yet, anyway.

They inched forward as though afraid of being bitten, but I soon saw that it wasn’t the screens that scared them. It was counting the screens that had them buffaloed. For once, even Biz wasn’t eager to get on with business. He crept forward, a quarter-step ahead of the others, but giving them plenty of chances to take the lead. Any time he waved Jim Dandy and Stump ahead, they came to a dead stop behind him.

“No, no, no.” Stump wagged a finger.

“You’re the one so big on counting,” Jim Dandy said.

“Tadpoles,” Biz mutter-squeaked under his breath.

So Biz reached the screens first, and after a half-dozen tries, he managed to run a trembling finger over their edges. He couldn’t count beyond one, though. Actually, I’m not sure if he got that far, which made it the worst case of counting jitters I’d ever seen. Jim Dandy and Stump weren’t any help either. They constantly distracted Biz by trying to peek over his shoulder.

“There’s only two of them,” I announced at last, tired of their stalling. “The old lady wouldn’t give me any more, not even when I talked extra sweet.”

“I knew it!” Biz squeaked triumphantly.

“Now, let’s not get all excited.” Jim Dandy made a calming motion with his hands.

“I’d say you better swim on home for another silver dollar,” Biz replied, ignoring him.

“If you think I’m going to miss the new moon like Stump’s fool brother did,” Jim Dandy shot back, “you’re dumber than driftwood.”

That crack had Stump clenching his fists hard enough to juice apples. Biz wanted to snap back, you could tell by the way his stubby tail was twitching, but before he could answer, Jim Dandy went on smoothly.

“Besides, there’s other ways to get that third cricket from Bo.”

“Not tried-and-true ways,” Biz squeaked.

“Relax, boys,” Jim Dandy cooed. “I got you the ukuleles, didn’t I?”

“He did do that,” Stump remembered, unclenching his fists.

“Yes, and she got two of them back,” Biz reminded everyone.

“Hey,” Jim Dandy protested, “I got you Duke, didn’t I?”

“He did that too,” Stump cautiously agreed.

“What good’s he done us?” Biz challenged, crossing his arms.

Duke got a real nasty look on his kisser when he heard that, the kind of look that sooner or later always gets him into deep trouble. Since he wasn’t saying anything sooner, I figured later was what he had in mind.

“He got us his cousin, didn’t he?” Jim Dandy swept a hand toward me.

“We wouldn’t have needed either of them,” Biz squeaked, “not if we’d all gotten a silver dollar from our mothers.”

“Let me ask you this,” Jim Dandy said, changing the subject as fast as he could. “Have you ever thought about what happens if Bo has enough shooting stars?”

“She never has enough of those,” Biz scoffed.

“How do you know?” Jim Dandy asked. “She might be sitting on her throne right now, thinking, ‘It’s way, way too bright in here. I’m tired of all these shooting stars.’”

“Never happen,” Biz squeaked, but you could tell he wasn’t absolutely certain about it.

“Never?” Stump echoed weakly.

“But what if she did say no?” Jim Dandy insisted. “Then what would we do? I mean, we’d still need the crickets, right?”

Such questions crinkled up Biz’s forehead and made Stump’s eyes wild. One look told you that according to all reports, Bodacious Deepthink had always been willing to swap a cave cricket for a shooting star. No one had ever suggested otherwise—until now.