A BLINK AND A WINK

Michael Parent

            The people who had seen the monster in Blue Lake, and there were just a few of them, gave very blurry descriptions. Sometimes weeks passed without a word about the beast. But the recent sinking of Andrew McBride's boat had started everyone talking, arguing about whether the monster was a charming curiosity, a potential tourist attraction, or a dangerous nuisance. Some folks, including Mister McBride, said the monster should be destroyed.

             Young Robbie McOgle had lived along the rocky shore of Blue Lake, in the town of Gilhooley, for all of his nine years, and had not yet set eyes on the monster. But he listened closely to all the talk and asked many questions. In fact, he was very much looking forward to Sunday's family gathering because he was sure Grandma knew a lot more about all this than she let on.

            Robbie did not play hide-and-seek with the other children after supper on Sunday. He had more important business that night. He sat in the living room with the grownups and watched Grandma. When she went out to the kitchen to fill the teapot, Robbie followed. He flashed her a quick two-eyed blink and a one-eyed wink. Grandma returned their special signal, put the teapot on a low fire, and they stepped out on the porch to sit in their "talking place" on the swing.

            Robbie gazed out at the moonlit surface of the lake.

            "Gram, what do you know about the monster?"

            "The first thing is that we mustn't call him a monster, Robbie. That only leads to foolishness like blaming him for such things as Andy McBride's boat sinking."

            "What do you think happened to Mister McBride's boat, Gram?"

            "I like Andy. Known him all my life. But he's always been hard-headed. He likely went out in that storm, got into trouble, and he blamed that harmless creature rather than admit he'd made a mistake. When the wind churns up those waves, a smart man stays home."

            "But, Gram, couldn't the monst... the thing in the lake, tip a boat over?"

            "He most certainly could, but he's not inclined to that sort of thing."

            "How do you know?"

            "Listen close, Robbie. First of all, the creature's name is Duncan and he is not a monster.

He's as fond of humans as he is afraid of them. But I fear he may soon show himself to the wrong people."

            The teapot whistled and Grandma went back to the kitchen. Robbie's eyes scanned down to the boat dock, to the public beach just beyond it, and past that to the cove at the deep end of Blue Lake. He could see Blackberry Rock in the moonlight, and strained to see something in the water. But no creature broke through the still surface of the lake. Gram returned with two cups of tea and settled back into the porch swing. She rested her soft, wrinkled hand on Robbie's shoulder.

            "I'm sure I've told you about Uncle Jackie, my own grandmother's younger brother, who lived by himself in the old stone house on the Cove Road. He always had plenty of songs, stories and riddles. He also knew many secrets and had a great, booming laugh that rattled the dishes in the cupboard. And, by the way, it was he who invented the blink-and-wink signal that I've passed on to you. And he and I had a talking place just like you and I do -- that big dent in Blackberry Rock. The best secrets he told me had to do with the creature in the lake."

            "Really?!"

            "That's right. He taught me how to get the creature's attention, told me about his huge red eyes and shaggy whiskers, what he liked to eat, and showed me how to warn him of any approaching danger. It's a sad thing, but, for as long as I can remember, people have blamed some misfortune or other on that sweet creature they call the "monster." If the fishing was poor, they blamed him for eating the fish. 'Course when the fishing's good, no one worries about the fish Duncan eats. If a boat capsized, they said it was the creature that upset it. And there have always been those who work themselves up to thinking they have to destroy the 'monster.'"

            "So what did Uncle Jackie do, Gram?"

            "Oh, he tried to convince people that the creature was not only harmless, but helpful.

He reminded people of the many times fishermen who were thought to be drowned were mysteriously found, unconscious but alive and quite safe, in a rock crevice they had no memory of  reaching on their own. Uncle Jackie told them that was the work of the creature. But most people didn't put much stock in the words of an old man who lived alone and talked about the birds and fish as though they were his own kin."

            "So Uncle Jackie protected Duncan?"

            "Yes. And when his health began to fail, he passed the job on to me. And now, my dear,
I shall pass it on to you. Do you think you're up to it?"

            "I don't know. How come you're not passing it on to Will?  He's a lot stronger and braver than me."

            "Your brother is certainly stronger. He is three years older. But being a daredevil is only one kind of bravery. What this job requires is something found in the heart. And I know you have plenty of that. Now, how long does it take you to reach Blackberry Cove from the boat dock, running along the shore?"

            "I've never timed myself.  But I'd guess about 20 minutes."

            "Try it tomorrow.  Time yourself and see if you can do it in 12 minutes. Put 5 or 6 tomatoes, carefully packed, into a knapsack and run the route with it on your back. Then come back and tell me how you did."

            "Why 12 minutes, Gram?"

            "That's how long it takes someone in a car to get around to that spot, what with all the curves and wooden bridges. The shore is a faster route for a good runner who knows the rocks. Now then, I've got to go back inside and you've got to go to bed."

            "O.K., Gram, I'll see you in the morning." Robbie rose very early the next day. He quickly ate a bowl of cereal and packed a half-dozen large tomatoes into his knapsack. He ran the shoreline route along the rocks and made it to Blackberry Cove in 16 minutes. When he got back to Gram's house, quite discouraged, she told him sixteen minutes was a fine start. Then she hiked up her dress and walked along the rocks with Robbie to show him the best route to Blackberry Cove. When they arrived, Gram sat down in the crease of the rock and told Robbie to try it again, along the route she'd just shown him. He trotted back to the boat dock, looked at his watch, adjusted the knapsack, and ran as fast as he could. When he arrived, he checked his watch and sat, frowning, next to Gram.

            "Fourteen minutes, eight seconds."

            "Good. You cut almost two minutes off your time."

            "But you said I had to do it in twelve."

            "A few more practice runs and you'll be fine, Robbie. Twelve minutes is about what it takes in a car. A truck will be slower. Now listen close."

            Robbie hung on every word.  Gram told him the purpose of the tomatoes, how to get Duncan's attention, and then, most important of all,  how to give the danger signal that would send him to the depths of the lake, where he'd stay until dark, when it was safe to surface. That way he wouldn't come up at the wrong time, in the wrong place, and be an easy target for "those fools who shoot first and think later."

            They walked back along the shore to the boat dock and then up to Grandma's. Gram served apple-rhubarb pie and milk, and she and Robbie sat in the porch swing. They heard loud voices and roaring engines and saw a truckload of rowdy men careening through the streets below. Gram touched Robbie's chin and turned his face to hers.

            "You must be careful, Robbie. Even decent people can behave very badly when they're looking for someone or something to blame for their troubles."

             She pulled Robbie close and kissed him goodbye.

            As he scampered down the hill toward home, Robbie saw two men up ahead and recognized Mister McBride. The men stopped walking, slapped each other's shoulders and said goodbye. As the other man walked away, he turned to Mister McBride.

            "Don't trouble yourself, Andy," he said, "we'll take care of Ole Shaggy Whiskers in the mornin'."

             No time for any more practice runs now!  Robbie ran home to get things ready. He told his parents he'd been at Grandma's, climbed the stairs to his room, checked the tomatoes inside the knapsack , tossed and turned for a while, and finally fell into a restless sleep.

            Just before dawn the next day, Robbie awoke, dressed, grabbed the knapsack, crept down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some biscuits, slipped out to the shoreline, and started running along the rocks. He'd gone about halfway to Blackberry Cove when he heard the sound of trucks coming from the center of town. He stepped up his pace but remembered Gram's instructions. "Go smoothly. Make your steps count." The truck motors sounded louder and closer by the time he reached Blackberry Rock. Robbie's early start had given him six or seven extra minutes. He pulled five tomatoes out of his knapsack, held on to the largest one, and set the other four down near the water's edge.

            Robbie sat with his back against the huge, truck-sized rock, nibbled on a biscuit, and waited. He shivered from the morning dampness and a few chilling thoughts. The time he'd gained wouldn't do any good if Duncan didn't come soon. What if the creature liked grey-haired Grandmas but not nine year old boys? What if Duncan showed up after the men in the trucks arrived?  

"Oh, please come now, Duncan," he whispered.

            Robbie watched the surface of the water ever so closely and saw no trace of the creature. Birds chirped and sang. The sun rose over the dark green hills. The roar of the trucks' motors grew louder. He stood, half-circled the huge rock, and saw the trucks in the distance. If Grandma were only here, Duncan would recognize her and show himself. 

            Suddenly, a loud splash! Robbie scampered back to the front of the rock and saw ripples on the water. Then he noticed that two of the tomatoes he'd placed near the water's edge had disappeared. Robbie's heart thumped in his chest. Gram had told him that Duncan would know he was a friend because of the tomatoes. Up his arms and down his back Robbie felt chill bumps.

            Then, in the time it takes to make a wish, it happened. The great green head rose out of the water. Gram had told Robbie about Duncan's crimson eyes and shaggy whiskers. But the creature was much larger than Robbie had imagined. His head alone seemed half the size of Blackberry Rock. Robbie pressed back into the rock as Duncan leaned forward to scoop up the two remaining tomatoes with his massive tongue. The great beast swallowed the tomatoes, glanced at Robbie, and disappeared beneath the surface once again.

            Robbie sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The growling of the oncoming trucks pushed him to his feet. He grabbed the large tomato he'd set aside, and scooted to the water's edge. He swung both arms in a circle, round and round and round. Then, just when he thought his arms would surely swing right out of their sockets, Duncan's great head split the water. Robbie remembered Gram's instructions and kept swinging his arms so that Duncan couldn't possibly miss the signal. The beast did not know this young boy, but he surely knew that signal, what it meant, and from whom it had come.

            Robbie tossed the last tomato toward Duncan as the trucks crested Tinker's Hill, about a quarter mile from Blackberry Cove. The creature looked up, leaned to his left, opened his mouth, and gobbled up the tomato. Then, to Robbie's further astonishment, Duncan winked and vanished beneath the ripples. Robbie stood motionless for a few seconds. Then he remembered Gram's next instruction. As the trucks and their sour-faced riders screeched around the last curve on Blackberry Cove Road, he snatched up his knapsack and dashed across the rocks. The trucks pulled up and the men jumped out.          

 "Hey Kid!"

            Robbie walked as calmly as he could so that, as Gram had said, "you'll look like you're out for an early morning stroll."

"Hey Kid, I'm talkin' to you!"

            Robbie stopped and looked back. It was the man he'd seen with Mister McBride.

            "Good morning, Sir. How are you?"

            "You're the younger McOgle boy, aren't ya? What are you doin' out here?"

            "I'm ... I'm running an errand for my Grandma."

            "Well, you better go back home. Get goin'!"

            Robbie stood still for a few seconds and felt his knees begin to shake. He started walking, broke into a trot, then into a sprint, to Grandma's house.

            "You've done it, Robbie. I knew you would."

            "But those men really scared me, Gram. Do you think I'll have to do this as long as you had to?"

            "I'm not sure, Robbie. Duncan's been alive a long time. Let's hope he gets to die of old age."

            A few days later, Robbie was in the grocery store getting some milk for his Mom.                     

            "Well, aren't we lucky, Emily," said a familiar voice behind Robbie, "to run into young McOgle, the early bird."  

            Robbie turned around and saw Mister McBride and a little girl.

            "You're Tom McOgle's boy, Mary-Catherine's grandson, right?"

            "Yes, Sir, that's right."

            "I'm Andy McBride. This is my grand-daughter Emily. So what were you doing very early Thursday morning down at Blackberry Rock?"

            "I was running an errand for my Grandma."

            "You weren't poking around in any monster business, were you?"

            "I don't think he's a monster, Mr. McBride."     

            "Don't you think you're a bit young to know about such things, son?"

            The little girl looked from Robbie to her grandfather and back to Robbie.

            "Maybe so, Mr. McBride. But what is it exactly that makes him a monster?"

            "I'm a fisherman, son. That lake is my living. Have you noticed how bad the fishing's been this year?  Now what do you think causes that?"

            "But last year the fishing was good, Sir. What caused that?"      

            The little girl tugged on her Grandpa's sleeve. "Poppy, Poppy, we gotta go. Ice cream’s gonna melt."

            "Yes, Sweetheart, in a second. Now Robbie McOgle, I lost my boat a few weeks ago. Don't you think the monster might've had something to do with that?"

            "What about the storm, Sir?"

            "I've been out in plenty of storms, young fellow, never capsized before. Listen, it's been nice talking to you, Robbie. You're smart and spunky, like your Grandma. I like that. But you'll understand these things a lot better when you're older."

            "My Grandma is a lot older, Mister McBride. How come she doesn't understand things like you do?"

            "Your grandmother is a fine woman, son. But why, other than because she's your grandma, do you think she understands that monster better than I do?"

            "Because, Sir, she just plain knows things."

            The next time Robbie saw Mr. McBride was at the Annual Town Picnic, held on the beach near the boat dock the last weekend in July. It seemed that everyone in town was there and, at least for the time being, enjoying themselves without much discussion about "the monster." Mister McBride waved a friendly Hello to the McOgle family as they picked their usual spot on the shore and spread their blankets. Mom and Gram prepared the food, Dad walked over to see Uncle Jim, and Will ran off to play with his friends. Robbie licked his lips as he caught his first whiffs of the pies Gram had baked, as usual, for Picnic Day.

            Suddenly Mister McBride's voice cut through the commotion. "Emily!  Emily!" he shouted as he looked out toward a rubber raft that was floating away from shore. His daughter Patricia, Emily's mother, was standing next to him. 

            "I swear that child falls asleep everywhere and anywhere," Patricia said.

            Robbie could see Emily's pink arm dangling over the side of the raft. Mister McBride and his son-in-law Hugh ran past the McOgles, headed toward Hugh's boat. Then Mister McBride stopped and began to gesture wildly toward one of the speedboats on the lake. It was no use. The driver of the speedboat could not see or hear Mister McBride, and paid no attention to the yellow raft. When the wake from the speedboat hit and overturned the raft, Emily was startled and terrified, but she managed to catch hold of one of the ropes.

            "Just hang on, Emily," shouted her father, "We're coming!"

            Robbie's own Grandma stood up just then. "Oh, my goodness," she said as she looked out past the little girl and the yellow raft. Fingers pointed and eyes followed all along the shore. Mister McBride saw it as Hugh was grabbing the boat's starter-cord. He jumped out of the boat, ran up the rocks to his truck, and came back with his rifle.

            "Andrew McBride, do not pull that trigger," Gram said as she stepped in front of him.

            "Mary-Catherine, get out of my way, that's my granddaughter out there!"

            "He won't harm her, Andrew. I promise you!"

            Mister McBride quickly sidestepped Grandma and took aim at Duncan, now closing in, no more than fifteen feet away from Emily. Just before Mister McBride pulled the trigger, Grandma reached out, pushed the gun barrel upward, and the shot roared harmlessly into the sky.

            "Mary Catherine, quit your meddling!"

            By now, only Duncan's huge head could be seen behind the yellow raft. Grandma stepped in front of Mister McBride and grabbed his shoulders.

            "Andrew, if you shoot again, you might hit Emily, for God's sake. Now, would you please calm down and have a look at what's happening out there."

            Mister McBride let the gun barrel down, looked out toward the raft again, and his eyes opened wide. There was Emily, looking for all the world like Neptune's own daughter, on Duncan's broad back. Every last person on the shore stood motionless, wordless, and open-jawed as Duncan deposited Emily a few yards from shore, dove backwards and disappeared. Mr. McBride scooped Emily into his arms, handed her to her Mom, stared out at the water, shook his head, and slowly turned to Robbie's Grandma.

            "Sorry, Mary-Catherine, sometimes I go completely off my head."

            "That you do, Andy. But you're a good man in spite of it. And I trust we won't be hearing any more 'monster' talk around here."

            "That you won't, Mary-Catherine, that you won't."

            When everyone finally settled back into the picnic, Robbie sat next to Grandma.

            "Good work, Gram."

            "Oh, Robbie, my heart's still beating like hummingbird wings."

            "It does look like I'm out of a job, though, Gram."

            "Listen, Robbie, if you hadn't done your job the other morning, what we just saw might never have happened. And never fear, there's always plenty to do."

            "O.K., Gram, what's my next job?"

            "Well, you could help me celebrate a grand and amazing day with a piece of pie and a glass of lemonade. Are you up to it?"

            "That I am, Gram. That I am."