“Yes,” he said from his pile of pillows. But he couldn’t keep the shivers out of his voice.
The winds continued to howl, and the temperature continued to drop. Joel and Nina drew close to their mother, snuggling in as near as they could—even though under any other circumstances, Joel would have claimed he was too old for such a thing.
“Don’t worry, kids,” Mrs. Popper said. Nina knew her mother only said that when she was worried, of course.
“I’m not afraid!” Nina said.
“Me neither!” Joel said. Nina could almost believe him.
Despite their worry, they all grew sleepy, and gradually Nina sensed her thoughts growing scattered. Then she must have fallen asleep, because she became aware of waking up. The wind was howling louder than ever, and as she fully opened her eyes, she realized why.
Someone had opened the door.
“Mom!” Nina said urgently. But her mother kept snoring.
Long shadows grew across the floor as the intruder—no, intruders—came in closer.
Their shadows were shaped sort of like bowling pins.
It was the Popper Penguins. At least two dozen Popper Penguins.
The birds were lined up in the doorway, facing in. Mae and Ernest must have sensed their kind nearby. They rolled onto the ground from under the comforter and were facing the adult penguins, making nervous oork sounds.
Nina nudged her brother. “Joel. Penguins! In the hut!”
He grunted and rolled over in his sleep, pulling the wool blanket over his head.
The Popper Penguins waddled forward, cautiously investigating the hut, taking careful pecks of the cabinets, the walls, the boots lined up by the doorway. Once the first ones had freed up space in the opening, more filed in from behind. Nina wouldn’t have thought penguins ever could look cold, but these ones certainly did. They had frost on their feathered eyebrows, along their beaks, on the tips of their dark, dinosaur-like feet.
Nina nudged Joel again. “More penguins!”
Soon they’d filled the entire floor of the hut, their orks and jooks filling the air, while the wind from the storm outside whistled.
Once the last of the Popper Penguins was inside the shelter of the hut, Patch pressed her flipper against the door and pushed it closed.
Even though Joel had managed to sleep through the clamor of a roomful of penguins, that sound was what woke him up. “Wow” was all he could think to say.
Yuka sat up amid his pillows. “I guess they must be cold, too.”
Surprised by Yuka’s deep voice, the penguins panicked, tumbling over one another, bumping into the walls and cabinets before heaping into a great squawking pile. Once the two dozen penguins had righted themselves, Yuka was trapped, sitting bolt upright in the center of them. His eyebrows disappeared right into his hairline, he was that surprised.
“Kids,” he said, “I’m stuck in a waddle of penguins!”
“Do you need help?” Nina asked, tugging on her furry slippers.
Yuka considered the question for a moment. “No, actually,” he said, appearing to surprise even himself. “This is may be the coziest I’ve been in my whole life. Turns out penguins are excellent insulators!”
Before anyone could stop her, Nina had scrambled out of bed and into the midst of the birds. They made their panicked noises again but didn’t bowl one another over this time. They were more comfortable with Nina.
“Oh, wow,” Nina said. “He’s right. This is amazing!”
Joel joined her in the huddle of penguins. Their feathery coats were smooth and warm and smelled of fish and seawater. “Whoa. It’s really nice.”
Just then their mother woke up. “Kids, where are you?” she asked as she cleared the sleep from her eyes. Her jaw dropped wide open once she saw her children and Yuka, waving at her from the huddle of penguins.
“You have to try this, Mom!” Nina said.
THE HUDDLE
CROWDING IN WITH penguins turned out to be a wonderful way to ride out a storm. The birds were amazingly warm and soft. But it was more than that. Even though fearsome things were happening, even after the propane ran out and arctic night fell and the wind howled louder and louder, the penguins kept up a stream of chatter. It was a great distraction—it was harder to stay scared when there was so much to eavesdrop on.
“I think this tall one next to me doesn’t like the short one next to you,” Nina said to Joel. “He keeps throwing his head back and making a lot of noise in the short one’s direction.”
“I think that’s because he does like him,” Joel said. “This short one is the warmest of them all.”
“What are you kids talking about?” Mrs. Popper called out. She was pinned between penguins, just like the rest of them, only she was stuck on the far side of the hut.
“The puffins are starving!” Nina said, but her voice was lost in the ruckus of penguin cries.
“What did you say?” Mrs. Popper shouted.
“We’ll tell you later!” Nina said.
“WHAT?”
“WE’LL TELL YOU—never mind,” Nina said, letting her voice get lost in the bird chorus.
Come dawn, the winds died down and the penguins filed out of the hut one by one, each taking a moment to wave goodbye before heading off to fish. “I’m getting the sense that this isn’t the first time the penguins have ridden out the worst of a storm by keeping warm in the hut,” Joel said, stretching his arms and legs to get the blood circulating again.
“I’m sure they’re able to tolerate the most extreme cold, but I can’t blame them for taking a better option when it becomes available! No wonder the caretaker needed a break,” Mrs. Popper said. “I’m not sure how much more I could take of that.”
“I thought it was fantastic,” Nina said. “And they have good skills with door handles!”
“Yeah, I kind of miss them already,” Joel added. He swooped down to pick up Ernest and Mae, who were looking around with astonished expressions on their faces, as if
