“Oh no!” Joel yelled, hands on his cheeks. “Yuka, Ernest’s been meddling with the computer!”
There was no answer from the helm. Joel ran up there to find Yuka gripping the wheel with white knuckles, Mrs. Popper and Nina standing beside him. “What’s going—”
“There!” Yuka shouted, pointing at a dark shape in the water, passing under the prow. “That’s the rocks—hold on tight!”
Joel was interrupted by a horrible grinding sound from the hull. The whole vessel slowed, and the bow dipped, pitching them all forward. They barely caught themselves at the railing, Mae tight in Nina’s hand, narrowly missing getting pinned against the rail.
At first it felt like the boat might tip over and cast them into the sea. The back rose alarmingly, then crashed back into the ocean. The engines continued to roar, but the boat didn’t move forward anymore. It just ground against the undersea rocks.
While Yuka frantically manned the helm, throwing levers and pushing buttons to cut the engines before the boat tore itself apart, Joel raced to the stern. He could just imagine Ernest cast into the sea, falling toward the propeller blades below. “Ernest!”
The chick was toddling toward him. Joel scooped him up, relieved. As he did, though, the boat listed to one side. Crates of food supplies tumbled into the waves.
“Everyone to shore!” Yuka shouted from the helm. “We’ve run aground!”
RUN AGROUND!
JOEL AND NINA and Mrs. Popper crouched at the edge of the tilting boat, staring into the turbulent gray-black water between them and the icy shore. Even though they had huddled together, they were shivering. The arctic wind cut between the fibers of their coats and ripped the heat away from their bodies. The prospect of being wet on top of being so cold was not appealing at all.
“Now, kids, wait until I’ve gone across, then I’ll help you,” Mrs. Popper said. Her words were brave, but she didn’t look ready to cross the slanting gangway to the slippery rocks, not at all.
Mae, nestled in Nina’s mittens, took one look up at her… and then leaped right into the sea!
“Mae, no!” Nina called. But Mae transformed once she hit the water, turning from awkward puffball to sleek missile. She arrowed through the surf, then sprang out with such force that she landed a few yards onto the rocky land, rolling and rolling before she got to her feet.
Ernest joined her, arrowing through the water just as capably—only he unfortunately landed in the very same spot as Mae, bowling her over and sending them both tumbling across the ground, squawking all the while. They got to their feet and stared at their human companions expectantly. Come on, this is fun!
“I think the tables are turning,” Joel said. “The moment we cross over this water, they’re the ones who are in their element, and we’re the outsiders.”
Mrs. Popper went first, just managing to keep her footing and make it to the island, staggering in her heavy fur-lined boots. Nina was next, using her mother’s outstretched arm to steady herself. Finally came Joel, helped by both his sister and mother.
“We did it, Yuka!” Mrs. Popper called back toward the boat.
Yuka looked up from the engine, pulling a metal mask back from his face. His welding tool continued to spark as he cheered and waved. “That’s great! The caretaker’s hut is on the far side of the island. I’ll come join you as soon as I know there’s no more water coming in.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come now?” Joel called. He would miss having Yuka nearby, the zany stories he told and his cheerful outlook on life and all his knowledge of gizmos and gadgets. Life felt safer when he was around.
“We definitely don’t want to anchor a leaking boat, or we’ll have an even bigger crisis on our hands,” Yuka said. “I want to get us all back home before your break’s over and my paper’s due!”
“He’s very dedicated, isn’t he?” Mrs. Popper said. “The Popper Foundation put us in good hands.”
“We’ll come report back on what we discover!” Nina called, skipping ahead across the rocks.
Joel shivered and rubbed his arms. “Let’s go find that hut.”
“Maybe there are s’mores there!” Nina called over her shoulder.
Mrs. Popper nibbled on the thumb of her mitten, a sure sign she was worried. “I don’t think there are going to be any s’mores there, sweetie. Don’t get your hopes up.”
Joel gave her arm a rub. “Don’t worry, Mom. This is going to be okay.”
“I should be comforting you,” she said.
“And we should be comforting them,” Joel said. “But that’s not how it’s working out.” He pointed ahead, where Mae and Ernest were waddling their way along the barren ground, getting right back up each time they fell down—which was often—on the island’s icy rocks.
Nina led the charge, scrambling to catch up to the little penguin chicks. The Poppers were out of breath by the time they reached them. Together the group crested a rise so they could take in the whole of the island.
It was rocky and treeless, a mountaintop surrounded by frigid seas. Boulders rose in strange formations, making much of the island impassable. The sides of all the stones were streaked in white—maybe penguin poo, maybe from other seabirds.
“Where are the Popper Penguins?” Joel asked.
“The hut is on the north of the island, on the other side of those big boulders,” Mrs. Popper said. “It’s next to the beach, where boats are supposed to land if they don’t want to hit rocks and get big holes gashed into them.”
“A beach!” Nina said, clapping her hands. “That sounds great.”
“A very cold beach,” Joel added soberly. He knew his sister’s mind had probably gone
