A GATHERING STORM
WHEN THE CHILDREN returned to the caretaker’s hut, they found Yuka and their mother standing outside. They looked like adults often do when they’re worried—very still, arms crossed, staring hard. Joel and Nina sped up, in case they were the reason the grown-ups were anxious. But their mother kept her arms crossed even after she’d seen them.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” she said.
“What’s going on?” Joel asked, shading his eyes against the low sun, trying to see what had captured all of his mother’s attention.
Yuka shook his head and put on a tight smile. “Nothing you need to concern yourselves about.”
“There’s no point hiding it from them,” Mrs. Popper said. “Kids deserve to know the truth.”
“What truth?” Nina asked, her face turning red.
“The boat is nearly fixed,” Yuka said, his face lighting up.
“Oh,” Joel said, confused. “That’s good news, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “I just wanted to start with some of that. Ahem. The bad news is that, well, you can see for yourself.” Yuka pointed to the southern sky, where a bank of dark clouds had formed.
“That does look like bad news,” Nina said, nodding.
“It’s coming our way,” Mrs. Popper explained, “and an arctic storm is serious business. We can’t sail out until it’s passed over.”
“And we don’t know when it will end,” Yuka said. “If my instruments had been working correctly, we’d have known about it on our way here and could have headed to the mainland earlier.”
A mournful oork came from within Joel’s coat. “I think Ernest is very sorry about the sabotage,” Joel said.
“Yuka will be staying with us in the hut while the storm is raging,” Mrs. Popper said.
“We’ve got a few hours left,” he said. “Your mother wants to stay here to get the hut ready, but would you two come with me to the boat? We need to retrieve whatever supplies we can before the wind and snow come. There will be no crossing the island later.”
Nina and Joel nodded somberly. “Of course.”
Together they hiked across the island to the boat and returned with as many supplies as they could carry—which was not, truth be told, all that many. A lot of them had been lost overboard during the wreck.
When they returned to the caretaker’s hut, Yuka and Joel and Nina each had a crate in their arms. They piled them in a corner of the room. Ernest and Mae hopped down from the windowsill, where they had been keeping tabs on the Popper Penguins. They huddled into the comfort of the kids’ ankles.
The wind outside began to howl. Yuka looked out the window at the sky, his expression turning grim. “Maybe there’s less time than I thought. There might be long enough for only one more trip to the boat.”
“I’m ready,” Nina said.
“No, you two stay here,” Yuka said. “I don’t want to risk your being trapped outside when the winds start.”
They watched from the window as Yuka headed back to his boat. Once he’d disappeared from view, Mrs. Popper clapped her hands briskly. “Let’s get everything put away, so the hut’s in the best order we can get it. We might be stuck inside for a long time.”
Ernest and Mae watched gravely as the Poppers prepared the hut. Joel shook out the spare coverlet and draped it over a makeshift bed of pillows on the floor, so Yuka would have somewhere to sleep. Nina and Mrs. Popper lined up the food supplies. “Lots of canned beans!” Nina announced.
“And some tuna fish, I hope?” Joel asked, patting Ernest on the head.
“Of course,” Nina said. “Though I think we’re going to eat that, now that the penguins have been delivering raw fish.”
“Oh no, the Popper Penguins!” Joel said, peering out the hut’s small window. “Do you think they’re going to be okay, Mom?”
She squeezed Joel’s shoulder. “Of course they’ll be okay. They’ve survived many winters out here. They’re designed for this sort of weather. It’s primates like us who have to worry.”
When Yuka reappeared at the doorway, he had icicles hanging from his hood, and the stubble on his chin glittered with frost. The wind roared into the hut, scattering the pillows Joel had carefully arranged and knocking over a tower of canned beans. Yuka slammed the door closed and stamped his booted feet. “Wow. I guess I went through storms like this in my childhood, but this seems worse than any of those ever were.”
“Were you able to radio the authorities while you were at the boat?” Mrs. Popper asked.
Yuka shook his head. “No, sorry. The electrical systems aren’t up yet. But we’re going to be fine. And the Popper Foundation knows our itinerary, so if we’re missing for long enough, they’ll be sure to send help.”
The walls shuddered. Ernest made an oork of panic and hopped onto the bed.
“I think Ernest has the right idea,” Joel said, zipping his coat up tight before following the penguin chick under the covers.
STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
THE NEXT TWO days passed in a blur. Once the storm clouds covered the arctic sun, there was little outside light coming into the hut, so it was hard to know whether it was day or night. It didn’t much matter, anyway—there was no going outside, whatever time it was. All Nina knew was that the tempest shook the roof and set the walls trembling, that it snaked cold fingers under the door and through the double-paned glass of the window, that the only defense was to huddle under the comforter, hoping the storm didn’t decide to take the roof off entirely.
By drawing her hood strings tight, Nina was able to have only her nose exposed. But even so, she could feel her body growing colder. Though she knew it would make her arm tingle from the cold air, she reached out to touch the heater. It felt like ice.
Nina tucked her arm back under the covers. “Mom,” she said softly, “I think the propane ran out.”
“Oh no,” Mrs. Popper said.
