“Wha—? What are you doing here?” said my mom.
“The same as you, Ms. H. Rescue mission.”
“But, but . . . ,” my mom sputtered.
“Mom!” I was worried I would have to slap her face, but her eyes locked onto me like I was holding out a lifeline. “Mom, we’re in Uncle Joe’s cabin in Alaska. I found him out on the shore a little while ago, unconscious and hurt. He needs your help.”
Her eyes were scanning side to side as I spoke.
“Joe . . . what? But how—?”
“There’s no time to explain, but my friends and I can travel between our pillow forts and that’s how we got here, and this is an emergency, so follow me!”
I pulled her to the door, Matt right behind us. She gasped as the cold air hit her and stopped, staring out at the arctic sky and waves and shore. I was already running down the steps.
“Straight ahead!” I called over my shoulder. And then my mom saw them: Abby, Mark, and Kelly gathered around the crumpled heap that was Uncle Joe. She gave a cry, and before I could take another two steps she was sprinting past me, a blur in her purple hospital scrubs, tearing across the rain-slicked rocks to rescue her little brother.
Twenty-One
“Have you moved him at all?” my mom asked, crouching down beside Uncle Joe and pressing a hand to his face.
“No,” said Mark as Matt and I jogged up. “We thought that wouldn’t be safe.”
My mom ran her hands gingerly along Uncle Joe’s twisted leg, then exhaled hard and turned to us, her face pale but relieved.
“You did the right thing; it’s a nasty break. The good news is that otherwise he doesn’t seem to be in danger.”
Abby spun and flung her arms around me. Matt and Mark gave a cheer. I squeezed Abby back and exhaled hard into the sky as the cloud of worry and anxiety that had been hovering over us lifted.
My mom climbed to her feet. “Okay, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “Here’s what we’re doing: our number one priority is to get Joe warm, so we need to carry him inside. Gather around and we’ll lift him together. I’ll keep his leg stable until we can get a splint on it.”
Everybody helped, and with a good amount of slipping and straining we managed to haul Uncle Joe back into the cabin and onto the bed. My mom carefully positioned his leg, then clapped her hands again and gave us all chores: Kelly and Abby went to gather up all the blankets and warm things they could find; Matt and Mark rooted through the cupboards looking for medical supplies; and I boiled water on the stove and make six giant mugs of hot cocoa.
And even though it was still technically an emergency, it was also pretty fun, with all of us crammed together in the tiny cabin gulping cocoa, digging through drawers and boxes for useful supplies, and shouting when we found them. Abby found a local map under a heavy book on whale anatomy, Kelly discovered a stash of extra blankets at the back of the closet, and Matt pulled a pair of ski poles out from under the bed that my mom decided would be perfect for splints.
Amid all the searching someone bumped the electronic clutter on the desk, and after a few sputtering crackles the same weird, heavy, soupy, staticy noise I’d heard before began churning into the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the speaker.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the underwater microphone,” I told them.
“It’s incredible,” whispered Matt. Mark nodded.
“Where are the whales, though?” asked Kelly. No one answered, and we listened in silence to the gurgling, glooping thunder of the deep, dark water out in the bay.
There was a groan from the bed, and the spell was broken.
“He’s waking up!”
We all crowded around as Uncle Joe opened his eyes. He looked from one face to another, blinking in the light.
“Joe,” said my mom, “Joe, it’s me, Karen. You had a bad fall. You’ve got a broken leg and probably a concussion.”
“Hey, Sis,” said Uncle Joe faintly. “Nice to see you, too.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked, leaning over him.
“Hurt,” said Uncle Joe. “Who are you?”
I looked at my mom in alarm.
“I’m Maggie, your niece. . . .”
“Not you, Maggie, you.” He nodded, then grimaced. “Ouch, guess I shouldn’t do that.”
I looked over my shoulder. Kelly and the twins were standing behind me.
“Oh, these are friends of ours,” I said. “This is Kelly. She’s—”
But Uncle Joe’s face spasmed, and he gritted his teeth around another groan.
“The shock’s wearing off,” said my mom, laying a hand on his forehead. “He’s starting to feel that broken leg. Okay, Joe, we’re going to get you to the hospital.”
“Which—hospital?”
“Mine,” said my mom. “Through the pillow forts.”
It was incredibly bizarre hearing my mom say those words, but everyone took it in stride. Everyone, that it, except Uncle Joe, who shook his head again.
“Ouch!” he said. “La-la! Don’t tell—me—anything! And can’t leave Alaska—lose grant. Have to stay—send reports—be ready—record whale.”
“Joe, that’s enough,” said my mom. “We’re taking you to the hospital and that’s that. You’re in no position to argue.”
“Your mom sounds just like you,” Abby whispered, nudging me.
Uncle Joe frowned and opened his mouth, clearly ready to put up a fight, then grimaced again and shut it. He was trembling.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” asked Kelly. He gave a tiny nod. She patted his arm. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh! Dr. Hetzger!”
“Yes, Kelly?”
“Why don’t we get Joe some emergency pain medicine, like you keep in my room? I can run and get it for him.”
“It’s kind of you to think of that,” said my mom. “But seeing as we’re taking him there in a minute anyway—”
“No!” said Uncle Joe. “Hospital—here. Town not—too far.”
“He wants to stay, Ms. H.,” said Matt.
“Stop. It’s not safe, kids.”
“But shouldn’t he get a say?” asked Abby. “He’s the one who’s injured.”
“We’d have a seriously hard time getting him through all
