She opened her mouth.
She closed her mouth.
Looking Patch in the eyes, to make sure she wasn’t offending her, Mrs. Popper gave the fish a friendly pat.
Apparently that was enough of an acknowledgment of the present. Patch gave a triumphant squawk and waddled back to the others. They greeted her in a joyful chorus, as if she’d just gotten back from a long journey.
“Negotiation successful!” Joel said.
Once the penguins’ attention was drawn away, Mrs. Popper tossed the startled fish back into the ocean.
Nina looked disappointed. “We need that food!”
“Yes,” Mrs. Popper said. “But I think we might want to cook our fish first.”
“But you still didn’t have to throw that one back!”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Mrs. Popper said, smoothing the front of her coat. “I got flustered because I didn’t know what to do, what can I say.”
Right at that moment, another fish landed at the Poppers’ feet. In fact, Joel realized, it might be the very same fish that Patch had brought them earlier. She’d emerged from the surf while they were talking and stood proudly over the retrieved fish.
“I think we’d better get a cooking fire started,” Mrs. Popper said.
BLEAK PROSPECTS
THE POPPER PENGUINS would go right up to the doorway of the caretaker’s hut, but they seemed unwilling to enter. They’d crowd in front of it, goading one another to go investigate, but none of them was willing to take the plunge and push open the door. Not even Patch was up to it, though she would occasionally work up the courage to spy through the window.
“Maybe they’re worried that we’re secretly sea lions dressed up as humans and that we’ll eat them right up,” Joel said as he arranged his schoolbooks on the lumpy bed. His mother had informed him that, even in a survival situation, he’d have to keep up on his studies.
“It’s silly for penguins to be afraid of us,” Nina said. “At least Mae and Ernest aren’t, are you?”
What Mae and Ernest were afraid of was the other penguins! The chicks hid behind the curtain covering the hut’s window, occasionally peeking out at the big adult penguins, then hiding back away. Always the more nervous of the two, Ernest had taken to diving under Mae for protection. Of course, only his head fit, so the rest of him splayed out on the windowsill.
“We aren’t exactly raising the most courageous chicks the world has ever known, are we?” Mrs. Popper observed.
“It’s only because they’ve led such sheltered lives so far,” Nina said. “I think they’ll find their place in the world once they’ve had time to adjust.”
“I don’t know, they seem to have a long way to go,” Joel said. He sidled over to the hut’s propane stove, its sole source of warmth. His mother was cooking a pair of fish on a pan. A third fish had been left raw and cut up on a tin plate, where it was serving as the chicks’ meal. “When’s our dinner ready?”
“In a few minutes,” Mrs. Popper said. “Then I’ll cook up a couple more fish to bring to Yuka.”
“Well, we’re definitely not going to run out of fish anytime soon,” Nina said, pointing to the beach outside the window, where a neat pile of fish had accumulated. Whenever one of the penguins went on a fishing excursion, it would return with an extra fish to leave at the Poppers’ door.
“I wonder if this is a trick Mr. Popper taught them years ago,” Joel said.
“Our biggest danger won’t be running out of food, but running out of fuel,” Mrs. Popper said. “If that happens, we’ll be very, very cold.”
“How much is left?”
She rapped her knuckles against the side of the can. It rang out hollowly. “I’m not sure. I hope enough for a few days.”
“You hope?” Nina said, her lower lip suddenly wobbling.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Mrs. Popper said. “The boat will be fixed by then. Or at least Yuka will have power restored so we can live on the boat until it’s ready to make the return journey.”
Joel kneeled down to stroke Mae’s fuzzy back. “Maybe by then our chicks will be brave enough to introduce themselves to the other penguins.”
“They’re trying to find new parents,” Nina said. “That can’t be easy!”
“Yeah,” Joel said, settling both chicks into his lap and petting them. “Don’t let us rush you two.”
Soon after Mrs. Popper was back from bringing Yuka his cooked fish, nighttime dropped quick and dark. Still in their coats, the Popper family closed the hut’s door, huddling together on the mattress with its scratchy but warm woolen blanket. The chicks tucked themselves under it.
The wind howled, each gust making the walls of the hut shudder. As he drifted toward sleep, Joel imagined a sea beast was hurling its tentacles against the hut. Popper Island was fun by day, but at night it was a strange and scary place. He was glad that they were all together, that he had Nina and his mother near. He hoped Yuka was okay.
Mae and Ernest burrowed closer as the wind got louder. Joel was glad that he had them alongside him, too.
The next morning, Nina was the first to wake. The air in the hut was so cold that it was hard to feel the tip of her nose. But under the wool blanket it was nice and warm. The wind had died down, and instead was… what was that sound?
Penguin chick snores! Nina held her ear against Ernest’s beak and listened to the soft wheezy sound. Maybe he was dreaming—she could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids.
Mrs. Popper sighed and got out of bed, opening the propane valve so she could light the stove. “You kids stay in bed until the hut’s warmed up, okay?”
But Nina couldn’t wait that long. She crept to the hut’s door and eased it open.
The sunlight was bright over the thin layer of crackly ice that had formed on the pebbles of
