THIRTY-SIX

The Banquet

Everybody leaned forward to catch what Jim Dandy’s father had to say. Straightening his bent shoulders as much as he could, Double-knot took a breath and advised, “Don’t make the same mistake I did, son. Go out and make your own.”

With that, he let go of Jim Dandy’s shoulders and slouched back toward the cave. If there was a throat thereabouts that didn’t hide a sizable lump, it wasn’t mine, not after all the times I’d refused advice from my own mom and dad. Of course, Bodacious Deepthink was all cinders and gas.

Finally Jim Dandy broke the silence, saying to Bodacious Deepthink, “If you’re done with the sales pitch, we came to trade for some crickets.”

Hearing that, Jim Dandy’s father held his head higher and picked up his pace. Bodacious Deepthink responded by whamming her staff down and shaking the entire valley.

“What have you got to trade?” she snarled.

“Two shooting stars and one meal,” Biz squeaked after Jim Dandy elbowed him.

“One banquet,” Jim Dandy corrected.

“That?” Bodacious Deepthink groused with a snort of disbelief.

She was pointing at Duke, who was holding up the burlap sack he’d been carrying.

“Guaranteed delicious,” Duke promised.

To prove his point, he untied the neck of the sack and dumped out the food inside. Stones fell to the ground, barely missing his toes.

“Doesn’t look like much.” Bodacious Deepthink wrinkled her nostrils.

“He just got the horn,” Jim Dandy said. “The rest is coming.”

When the Great Rock Troll took two steps forward and turned Duke to the side for a better view, my cousin didn’t even squawk. He was still gazing down at the stones as if expecting them to turn into goat cheese and pigs’ feet and ox tails.

“Done!” Bodacious Deepthink said, liking Duke’s profile. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “Bring me those crickets!”

Double-knot surprised everyone by shouting from the mouth of the cave, “Get them yourself!”

Bodacious Deepthink grumbled over to the wagon, which she shoved forward with her staff.

“These are the ones you want,” Bodacious Deepthink scoffed. “Your fathers did too, except for Double-knot, of course.”

The three white crickets inside the cage looked old and rickety enough to have met a lot of fathers. One had a bent antenna. Another stood lopsided. The last was drooling.

“We’ll take ’em,” Jim Dandy said, reaching.

“Stars first.” Bo batted Jim Dandy’s hands away with her staff.

When Jim Dandy handed over the jewelry boxes, Bodacious Deepthink sniffed them without opening the lids.

“They’ll do.” She wasn’t impressed.

“Say,” Duke bawled, finally coming to his senses, “what happened to the mutton and goat cheese and stuff?”

Duke looked from Jim Dandy to Biz to Stump, all of whom were too busy admiring crickets to answer.

“You’re with me,” Bodacious Deepthink said to my cousin. “Come on.”

“Run!” I shouted.

But he didn’t. All he managed to do was stare—in disbelief—as Bodacious Deepthink lifted a rope from the wagon and lassoed him so expertly that you knew she’d done it before. Reeling Duke in, the Great Rock Troll tucked him over her shoulder and turned toward the cave.

“What’s going on?” Duke cried out.

“Take your crickets,” Bodacious Deepthink bellowed above Duke’s wails. “Leave the cage.”

With that, the Great Rock Troll plodded toward the cave as if she couldn’t even feel Duke thrashing about.

Spotting me on the ground, Duke pointed and screamed, “Take her! Take Claire! She’ll do whatever . . .”

He never got around to finishing his offer. Right then he let out such an ear-splitting yowl that Jim Dandy, Biz, and Stump all stopped admiring crickets and straightened up as if something house-size had exploded. Duke’s horn shot out another six inches. His arms thickened, legs too. The seams on his black zipper coat ripped everywhere as his skin puckered with wrinkles. Unfurling like leaves opening in spring, his ears shot upward with fur tufts on top. He turned black-gray, everywhere, and his fingers melded together into hooves.

A tail split his pants.

“That’s more like it,” Bodacious Deepthink said, happy at last.

She didn’t flinch under the added weight but barked to Double-knot, “Get the wagon!”

This time Jim Dandy’s father obeyed, although not before saying, “Just remember one thing, son: these crickets are the worst kind of liars. Every last one of them.”

With that, he opened the cage door, scooped out the three decrepit crickets, and placed one on the shoulder of each river troll. Jim Dandy got his last.

“W-why don’t you come with us,” Jim Dandy sputtered.

“Don’t think it’s not tempting,” Double-knot whispered, “but I’ve made my choices. And who knows? I might do something good here yet.” Picking up the wagon handle, he started toward the cave, calling over his shoulder, “You boys better get moving. Bo’s been known to change her mind.”

About then I heard one last blubbering wail from just inside the cave.

“Take her, not me!”

Duke remained tucked over Bodacious Deepthink’s stony shoulder, still pointing a hoof at me.