CHAPTER FOUR

Uchenna found a grease-stained rag behind their seats, and now Elliot was gingerly using it to get vomit off his shoes. Thankfully, Jersey was very small, so there was only a little bit. But it was still incredibly gross.

“It’s very nutty,” said Elliot.

“Everything we do with Professor Fauna is nutty,” said Uchenna.

“I’m talking about the—” Elliot looked up from his shoes to see Uchenna grinning at him. “Oh,” he said. “Very funny.”

“It is probably because I feed him so many almond bars!” Professor Fauna added. Elliot’s stomach lurched.

And then, Uchenna began to hum.

“No,” said Elliot. “Not about this! Please . . .”

But Uchenna was already singing in the style of an old-fashioned crooner.

“The way to Cuba is bumpy,

And little Jersey is blue!

He throws up something quite lumpy

All over Elliot’s shoes!”

Elliot was still scraping puke off his laces. “Can I just say that I hated that one?”

Uchenna snickered.

“Shall we return to the business at hand?” Professor Fauna said. He squinted into the bright clouds as the plane continued to dance. “This sea serpent is referred to as the Madre de aguas.”

“The . . . Mother of Waters?” said Uchenna.

“Muy bien. They say that without the Madre de aguas, the Mother of Waters, there would be no fresh water anywhere in Cuba.” Professor Fauna scoffed. “Now, to me, saying that the fresh water of an entire island depends on one creature sounds like magic. And, as you know, the creatures of myth and legend are not magic. They are creatures. But . . . they often have evolutionary mutations that can seem like magic.”

“What evolutionary mutation could possibly control the fresh water of an entire island?” Elliot asked.

“I do not know. Perhaps it purifies the water by passing it through its gills? Or perhaps it draws the fresh water up from the aquifer somehow?”

Jersey was clawing at the compartment of the backpack where his almond bars were kept. “No!” Elliot said to him. “Under no circumstances, Jersey.” Jersey began whining plaintively. “Not a chance, you little puke-Devil!”

Professor Fauna went on. “Many islands in the Caribbean tell stories of the Madre de aguas, and she goes by many names and takes many forms. But of course, this makes sense. There are many different peoples in the Caribbean, so of course they would talk about the Madre de aguas in different ways! Anyway, in Cuba people all over the island used to talk of the enormous serpent living in their wells and their ponds, wherever there was fresh water. But lately fewer and fewer people have seen the Madre de aguas. It could be there were once many Madres de aguas in Cuba and only one survives today, or it could be that there was only ever one, moving between different bodies of water, but today she hides herself from all but a few human eyes. I do not know. What I also do not know is this: Where is the Madre de aguas of Cuba now? Rosa was one of the people who the Madre de aguas still visited, and she has not seen the serpent for some weeks.”

Professor Fauna suddenly pointed through the windshield. “There!” he exclaimed. “The Miami airport! This is where we are meeting Yoenis, Rosa’s son.”

Uchenna and Elliot looked out of the window. Peeking through heavy clouds were the runways and parking lots of a huge airport.

“Wait, you’re going to land at an airport?” said Uchenna. “That’s a first. We usually just plow into trees or a cliff or something.”

“Do you have clearance to land at the Miami airport?” Elliot asked. “I’m pretty sure you need official permission or somethin—AHHH!”

A gigantic commercial passenger jet buzzed just above their heads. The Phoenix bobbed and weaved in the enormous power of the jet’s wake. Professor Fauna wrestled with the plane’s controls. Which seemed to do nothing. The plane dipped, nose down, toward the tarmac.

“Goodness gracious!” Elliot screamed.

The plane was screaming, too, the wind ripping past its wings.

And then, at the last second, the yoke finally responded to Professor Fauna’s entreaties, the plane leveled off, and the wheels touched down on the tarmac at a distant end of the runway, far from the main terminals and commercial jets.

They rolled to a stop.

“I think I am getting better at this!” Professor Fauna exclaimed.

Jersey smiled at him. Then he put his little blue head between Elliot’s legs.

“NO!” Elliot cried, and Jersey puked on his shoes again.