34

Jordan helped Abbie through the opening in the wall and led her into the Okeeyuckachokee Swamp. As she took it all in, he noticed something was different. The vegetation seemed smaller. He spun around and looked back at the wall separating the swamp from his backyard. Sure enough, the plants had shrunk. He crouched down at the base of the wall. The thick, overgrown tangle of vines that had once climbed up and over the wall had regressed, turning back into little sprouts.

“All that elixir that was kept in the lemon tree lair,” he said. “It was wiped out by the floodwaters and must’ve been reabsorbed into the soil.”

“Stop that,” Abbie said. “Stop being weirder than me.”

Jordan dashed past his sister, running as fast as he could, deeper into the swamp. “Hey!” she shouted, and chased after him.

They reached the small, tranquil lake left by the whirlpool, where the lemon tree once stood. Abbie was frantically catching her breath as she tried her best to yell at him. “What’s your problem, you spaz?”

“That’s it,” he said, pointing out to the middle of the pool. “When the lair flooded, the Fountain of Youth elixir must’ve shrunk the great lemon tree!”

“You just said, ‘lair,’ ‘Fountain of Youth,’ and ‘elixir’ in the same sentence. You know who talks like that? Wizards and weirdos. And you’re no wizard.”

“You said yourself there was something special about those lemons. Well, you were right. And this is where they came from.”

“A big puddle?”

“There was a massive lemon tree here. Its roots soaked up the Fountain of Youth water in the soil; then it released tiny amounts into each of its lemons. The lemonade you made from those lemons had just enough of the Fountain of Youth water in them to keep the residents of Waning Acres active and healthy.”

“So where’d this lemon tree of youth go?”

“It must’ve been de-aged. There were millions of bottles of the elixir stored underground. When the flood waters came crashing in and spilled them, all that elixir returned to the soil. The tree, the vines, any vegetation that soaked it up have shrunk back into seeds or saplings.”

“Or . . . this is just a normal little pond, and you’re totally messing with me.”

Bloop! A bubble burped from the center of the still water. What looked like a leafy bundle of sticks emerged from the depths. Jordan grabbed a long branch from the shore and pulled it to the edge. It was the lemon tree sapling, downsized and uprooted. A few green leaves and budding flowers were on it, as well as a couple of marble-sized lemons. He showed it to his sister.

“Okay, so you’re elaborately messing with me. I’m slightly impressed but not amused.”

Bloop! Another bubble. A rectangular object floated toward the shore. Abbie pulled it out by its handle. “Wait. I’ve seen this before.” She set the suitcase on the muddy shore and opened it up. She pulled out Grampa Grimsley’s black, furry Skunk Ape mask and looked at Jordan. “I don’t understand,” she said, looking back at the suitcase, a bit dazed by all of this. “How did you—How did this . . . get down there?”

“Down there is Grampa Grimsley’s lair. He created it years ago. It was the home of the Creature Keepers—protectors of the cryptids of the world. Dedicated to help, hide, and hoax.”

“Cryptids?” Abbie looked down at the Skunk Ape mask in her hand. “Okay. I don’t know how you planned all of this. But Mom said cryptids aren’t real.”

“Pff! Your mom ain’t real!” A gruff voice from above startled the two of them, forcing them to look up. Hanging upside down from a high tree branch was a red wad of muscles. The creature also had black, beady eyes, horns on its head, little pointed ears, and a pointed tail. It let go of the branch with its hooved legs and flipped right-side up. Two small, black, batlike wings unfolded and fluttered frantically, barely delivering the bulky, muscle-bound creature to the ground. It landed awkwardly but recovered with attitude, glaring at Abbie. “Drink me in, sweet stuff. I’m about as real as it gets.”

Abbie screamed. Jordan ran to her, crouching down between his sister and the red demon-creature. He still had the lemon tree sapling in his hand, and was waving it around ridiculously as if it were a weapon. “Stay back! You hear me?”

“HAW-HAW!” The creature laughed, its quivering red lips flashing a row of tiny, daggerlike, sharp teeth. It turned and yelled to the base of the tree it had just alighted from. “Yo, Eldon! I thought you said this kid was a Grimsley!”

Eldon stepped out from behind the tree. Its trunk cast a thick shadow, and for a second Abbie thought she saw something else stir within it.

“He is a Grimsley, Lou,” Eldon said. “More than anyone here, it turns out.” He reached down and helped Jordan up. “I heard what you did for the others.”

“Then you must’ve heard about Bernard, too,” Jordan said sadly. “He’s gone.”

Eldon nodded, then scratched his head, as if trying to remember something. “Although . . . if Bernard’s gone, then who was it that told me what you did?”

“Wasn’t me, boss,” the red creature said, picking something out of his teeth. Abbie was staring at him with a look of slightly disgusted horror on her face.

“Gosh, how rude of me.” Eldon gestured toward her. “Lou, I’d like to introduce Abigail Grimsley. And this is her brother, Jordan Grimsley, grandkids of the great George Grimsley. Guys, this is Lou. The Jersey Devil.”

“Sorry if I got too real back there. That’s kinda my thing. Keepin’ it real, I mean.”

Jordan remembered his first encounter with a real, live cryptid and hoped he didn’t look as stupid then as Abbie did now. He looked at Eldon. “Hey, what did you mean when you said—”

Bloop! BRAAAP!

They all turned to the pool. This time the burping bubbles revealed a shiny, golden object. At first Jordan thought it might be his grandfather’s urn. He heard it again. BRAAAP! It didn’t sound like an urn. He knew that sound.

It was a tuba. Specifically, it was Bernard’s tuba. And it was rising out of the water. And it was being played—horribly. There was only one Skunk Ape Jordan knew who played as horribly as that. BRAAAAAAP! Jordan dived into the water.

“Bernard!” The Skunk Ape moved the tuba to reveal he was wearing his diver’s mask and scuba tank. Jordan swam up to him and hugged him. He was so happy he didn’t even notice that the only thing smellier than a Skunk Ape was a wet Skunk Ape.

“You’re alive!” he yelled. “I can’t believe it! How did you survive down there?”

Bernard smiled back at him. “Skunk Apes can hold their breath for a really long time,” he said. “Kind of a helpful skill to have when you smell like we do.”

Jordan hugged him again, and Bernard lifted Jordan out of the pool and set him down on the shore. Then he turned to greet Abbie, who was suddenly having a very complicated day. “Hello again,” Bernard said, extending a wet paw. “We met a week or so ago. I was clean-shaven, in disguise, and not wearing flippers, so I understand if you don’t recall us being introduced.”

“No,” Abbie whispered. She looked paler than usual. “I—I remember. Nice to, uh—hi.”

They walked through the damp swamp as the twilight shadows grew long. Eldon told Jordan of his adventures up North, and how he felt when he found the great lemon tree replaced by a big watering hole. He feared the worst, assuming Gusto must have attacked again, until a very out-of-breath Skunk Ape suddenly emerged from the waters. After telling Eldon what had happened, Bernard began deep well diving to try to salvage what he could from Grampa Grimsley’s underground (now underwater) lair. There wasn’t much left.

“What about the field guide?” Jordan asked as they reached the wall to Waning Acres.

“I’m afraid not,” Bernard said. “The entire library room is completely caved in.”

As this sunk in, Eldon pulled two Badger Ranger hats out of his backpack and turned to Jordan and Abbie. “Okay, you guys are clear on the plan, right? Tell your folks you’re going on one last Badger Ranger outing, and you’ll be back in a coupla days.”

Lou chuckled. “The ‘last outing’ part’s true. Dunno about the ‘coming back’ part.”

“That’s quite enough, Lou,” Bernard said.

“Just keepin’ it real,” the red cryptid shot back.

“Real dumb.”

“You wanna piece of this, stinky?”

“Knock it off, you two,” Eldon said. He took the suitcase from Lou and handed it to Jordan. “We won’t be needing this. Might as well hide it back where you found it.”

“I don’t know if I can. I think my parents turned the attic into a tearoom.”

“Get Doris to help you. She knows every inch of that house, and might even remember a secret hiding spot. Bring it to her. She’ll know what to do with it. Okay. You guys know where and when to meet, right?”

“Boathouse. At dawn,” Jordan said. Abbie was distracted, staring off into the swamp behind them. Both boys noticed.

“Abbie. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just . . . I keep thinking something’s in the shadows, following us.”

“Very perceptive,” Eldon said. “That’s Kriss. The Mothman. He’s shy, but sooner or later he’ll come out of his cocoon. Or, he won’t. Either way, good eye, Abbie. Glad you’re on board.”

He offered her a Badger Ranger hat. She looked at it. “Like I’d ever wear that.” She ducked through the swamp wall. Jordan shrugged, then shoved the suitcase through. He went to follow her but stopped, turned back, and gave Bernard a very big hug.