Trolled

  Text messages between Alex Carhart and Cody Takala

  Cody

  We’re on for the party! Mom was kind of cranky when I got so insistent about coming, but we’ll be there.

  Alex

  I knew I could count on you, Cuz. Been too long since you were here. Aunt Mala’s career is doing too well for your own good.

  Cody

  Hey, watch it. Mom is doing great. Um…vow of silence?

  Alex

  I would rather lose my big toe in a lawn mower accident than spill your secret!

  Cody

  Mom is doing so well that she’s making more than Dad. I think he’s mostly okay with it…the rent on our apartment is sky-high. But I can tell it bothers him sometimes.

  Alex

  Totes understand. You should have been here when my dad quit his job last fall. WOWZA!

  Cody

  Our parents are weird.

  Alex

  Good thing you and me are so normal.

  Cody

  HAH!

  Biography Project Notebook

  10/6

  I’m afraid I am annoying Ned. I really don’t want to be a pest. And I certainly don’t want to make him angry. For one thing, he’s so big he could probably pop my head like a giant pimple!

  (Eeuuuw. Brain pus all over the walls!)

  Okay, I’m not really worried about him hurting me. Ned is basically a nice guy. But I’m starting to feel like I’m being mean to him…almost like I’m being a bully!

  Which is the last thing in the world I want.

  I’m going to give it one more try. If Ned still doesn’t want to talk, I’ll switch back to Grampa.

  Cody’s Life Log

  10/8

  This has gotten seriously weird. I mean seriously. (As if it wasn’t already!) Definitely too weird for the Biography Project notebook I show Mr. Liebe.

  So…last night I tracked Ned down again. When I found him I said, “Please, Ned, I just want to ask you some questions for school!”

  Looking down at me (he is SO tall!), he sighed and said, “All right, I will let you ask five questions, as long as they are not about my private life. Is that fair?”

  I figured it was better than nothing, so I said yes.

  He turned out to be trickier than I expected. His trickiness is not the weird part, but I want to get his answers down while I remember them.

  Then I’ll write the important part.

  Q&A

  Me: Why don’t you want to answer questions?

  Ned: Because I am a very private person. Talking about my personal life makes me uncomfortable.

  Me: I’m sorry. I’ll stop now if you want. (Note: I really did mean that!)

  Ned: No, I agreed to answer five questions, and you agreed that after that you would leave me alone. So ask your next question.

  Me: Where do you live?

  Ned: Let’s simply say I am a convenient distance from work.

  Me: Ned!

  Ned: I said I would not answer questions about my personal life. That was personal.

  Me: Okay, do I get another?

  Ned: No. And that was your third question.

  I wanted to scream. But I also wanted to ask a really good one, since I had run through most of my chances. Finally, I came up with one that I thought might work:

  Me: What should I know about you that I don’t?

  Ned: (after a long delay) I am stranger than you think, and I have a tragic history.

  Me: Are you really going to stop there?

  Ned: Yes. And that was your fifth question.

  Okay, so that made me want to scream even more.

  But now comes the really important (and really weird) part. Speaking slowly, Ned said, “Cody, it is not that I do not like you. But I am shy, and being interviewed makes me uncomfortable. I promised to answer five questions and I have done that, even if you didn’t like the answers. So do you promise that this is done now?”

  I sighed and said, “I promise.”

  “Then let’s shake on it,” said Ned.

  He held out his hand. It was almost the size of a tennis racket.

  I extended my own, which disappeared inside his massive grip. As his fingers closed around mine, a weird shock jolted up my arm. I don’t mean some little static electricity shock. I felt as if I had grabbed a live wire!

  I knew Ned felt it, too, because he gasped, then let go of my hand and backed away, looking frightened.

  “What was that?” I asked, shaking my arm, which was still tingling.

  “I don’t know,” answered Ned, staring at his hand as if he’d never seen it before.

  Then he turned and ran.

  I did the same, in the opposite direction.

  Saturday, Oct. 8

  I could not sleep today because I am so troubled by what happened with Cody last night.

  I agreed, perhaps foolishly, to let him ask me five questions. I did this in the hope that it would put an end to his pestering.

  I’ll admit I played a bit sharply with the boy, counting everything he asked as one of his allotted questions, even if they were things he clearly did not mean to be part of the interview. But that’s the way it works in the Enchanted Realm! However, it’s also probably why I did answer one question with more information than I should have. I was feeling a bit guilty about the other ones.

  But that’s not the real issue.

  The real issue is that when we shook hands at the end of the interview, a powerful jolt of energy—sudden, unexpected, and unlike anything I’ve ever felt before—passed between us.

  What in the world could it mean?

  What could have caused it?

  I hope the boy is all right. Part of me thinks I should check with his father to see. But if Cody is all right, and hasn’t said anything to his father, then going to Mr. Takala would just create new problems.

  Wish I had someone to consult with about this.

  Feel more alone than usual.

  Cody’s Life Log

  10/8 (night)

  If I thought things were weird before, they’re triple weird now.

  That’s because I just had a conversation with a cat.

  Askeladden, to be specific.

  This is hard to write, because my hands are shaking. If anyone else reads this, they’ll think I’ve lost my mind. And I can’t talk to anyone about it because they would think I was just skying!

  Good grief! I just realized my real life has gotten more bizarre than my made-up stories!

  Deep breath. Okay, after I finished writing about my encounter with Ned, I walked over to Granny Aino’s apartment to do my job.

  As usual, Askeladden was lounging on the couch, curled in a silvery-gray cat Q. Normally he just dozes—or pretends to doze—until I sit down and pat my lap. But this afternoon I had gone only a few steps into the apartment when he leaped to his feet. Tail frizzing out, back arched, he stared at me and hissed.

  Then he said, “What in the world has happened to you?”

  Seriously, he said it.

  Out loud!

  Actually, what came out of his mouth was a mixture of yowls and yips.

  But I understood every one of them!

  “Did you just talk to me?” I asked. Which was kind of dumb, since I knew that was exactly what had just happened.

  I don’t think I was shaping my words any differently. Even so, it was clear Askeladden understood them, because he said, “Yes, I talked to you. The question is, why did you understand me?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea!”

  Askeladden jumped off the couch, walked to where I was standing, and began sniffing around me. Finally he said, “Pick me up!”

  I bent and scooped him into my arms, feeling a bit silly for taking orders from a cat. He sniffed at my hands, and his eyes grew wide. “Have you been talking to a troll?” he demanded.

  “Of course not!”

  “Are you certain?”

  My own eyes grew wide as I thoug
ht about my conversation with Ned last night…thought about his enormous size…and that jolting handshake.

  OMG! Is it possible Ned Thump is a troll?

  No, come on, Cody. That’s absurd.

  But there I was, talking to a cat.

  So who am I to judge what’s absurd?

  Askeladden continued to stare at me. “You sure you haven’t been talking to a troll?”

  “Trolls aren’t real.”

  “Yeah, and neither are talking cats. But here you are talking to me. So either you’ve gone nuts, or something very strange is going on.”

  “All right, let’s say I did talk to a troll. What would that have to do with being able to talk to you?”

  “I’m not sure I should say. Maybe you should talk to your grandfather.”

  “What would Grampa know about this?”

  “Not him. Your other grandfather.”

  “Are you serious? I’ve never talked to Raimo in my life. My family is pretty much not speaking to him.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time you started.”

  “I wouldn’t even know how to reach him.”

  “Then maybe you should do a little more snooping.”

  I blushed, thinking about how Askeladden had watched me the last time I did that. But I also thought about what I’d found and realized I could ask him about it now.

  “Why is Granny keeping a dried-up cow tail in a metal box?”

  “Talk to your grandfather,” repeated the cat.

  “How?”

  Askeladden sighed and said, “Really, Cody, do I have to tell you everything? All right, you’ll find his cell number in the desk over there. He’s in Finland, so given the time difference, you should probably just text him.”

  He shook his head, then curled up and went back to sleep.

  From The Sayings of Granny Squannit

  Collected by Weegun of the Makiaweesug

  The answer to your problem may be closer at hand than you think. This is not a matter of coincidence. It is in the very nature of magic that magical things tend to draw together.

  However, you cannot take this for granted.

  Nor can you count on magic doing all the work.

  Open your eyes and ask questions!

  Sunday, Oct. 9

  Something is changing.

  I don’t know what it is.

  I don’t know why it is.

  But I do know that it is.

  I am twitching with nerves.

  I am positive it has something to do with the boy.

  Text message from Cody Takala to Raimo Takala

  Cody

  Hi, Grampa! I know we’ve never talked, and I hope I’m not bothering you. But I found your cell number in Granny Aino’s desk and I really need your advice. Could you get back to me, please?

  Cody’s Life Log

  10/15

  And…the weirdness just keeps on coming!

  Friday night I was hoping to track down Ned to see if I could figure out something about what was going on. Instead Mom told me I had to stay home and get to bed “at a reasonable hour” so we could get an early start on our trip out to Connecticut for Destiny’s birthday party.

  Since I was the one who had made a fuss about going to begin with, and Mom had turned down a major gig when I guilted her about family ties, I was totally busted on that.

  Besides, I really did want to go. I like Aunt Ellen and Uncle Dennis, and I really, really like my cousins, Bennett, Alex, and Destiny. Ben is a few years older than me, and a super soccer player—though according to Mom he went through an odd phase last year when he quit soccer to be a poet. She says he’s back to normal now.

  Alex is about my age, and we get along really well. One thing I love about her is that she’s a total slob, which means the mess in her room always makes my room look good by comparison. This is very useful when I am having conversations with my mother about whether I need to clean up more.

  Also, we swap books a lot, which is why I brought my backpack with me.

  Which turned out to be a good thing.

  I think.

  As for the birthday girl, Destiny is only in first grade. But she’s totally cute and always makes me laugh.

  When we go out there, I mostly like to hang with Bennett. I don’t want to seem like a tagalong, of course, but Ben is usually cool about it, even though he’s older than me. But after Destiny’s party he took off with some friends, leaving me to sit in Alex’s room and talk with her.

  From the moment I went in, two things struck me as strange.

  First, except for her desk, which was covered with its normal mess, the room was neat and tidy. Given the way Al’s room usually looks, even if she has supposedly “cleaned up for company,” this was startling.

  Shocking, even.

  Second, she had a huge pink Barbie dollhouse. The front of it was facing the wall. The back—the part that’s open so you can move stuff around in it—was covered with a sheet.

  “I thought you told me you were done with Barbies,” I said, pointing to the pink monstrosity.

  Blushing a little, she said, “I have that out for an art project!”

  I’ve seen some of Alex’s other art, so this made sense. She does some pretty strange projects.

  We talked about school for a while, and then I had to use the bathroom. When I came back Alex had an odd look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

  “Who?” I asked, looking around. “Where?”

  “I’ll explain after you make an I-hope-to-die-a-death-so-horrible-it-curls-your-toes-if-I-dare-tell-anyone-about-this oath.”

  Al and I had started making this kind of promise when we were little kids and wanted to swear each other to secrecy. Mostly we used it when one of us broke a window or something. The person challenged to make the oath has to come up with a new and totally horrifying way to die if he or she breaks it.

  “Lick your thumb and make a spit swear,” Alex said urgently.

  Still looking at her like she was nuts, I licked my thumb, held it out, and said, “I promise to keep this a secret, and if I break that promise may a ravenous griffin tear open my belly and eat my living guts while I scream in misery.”

  Alex nodded in satisfaction and pressed her thumb against mine. Then she took a deep breath and said, “Come on out, Angus.”

  I looked behind me, toward her closet, wondering if she had a friend hiding there for some reason.

  Alex tapped me on the shoulder and pointed in the other direction, toward the dollhouse.

  I lurched back in shock when I saw a small hand draw back the sheet.

  Then a small man—small as in, about twelve inches tall!—stepped out.

  Alex clapped her hand over my mouth to stifle my squawk.

  Clearly, she had been expecting my reaction.

  I probably would have been even more freaked out, except the handshake with Ned, and the fact that I was now talking to my great-grandmother’s cat, had already made it clear the world was far stranger than I had thought.

  Even so, I was pretty boggled.

  Speaking in a formal tone, Alex said, “Angus, this is my cousin, Cody Takala. Cody, this is Angus Cairns.” She paused, then added, “He’s a brownie.”

  I shook my head like a dog that’s just climbed out of the water. I’m not sure why I did that…trying to get the world to make sense again, I guess.

  “Pleased to meet you, Cody,” said the brownie. He spoke with a strong accent. Later I realized it was Scottish.

  “Um…pleased to meet you, too,” I said. I wondered if I should try to shake his hand, then realized the idea was ridiculous, since his hand was about the size of a marble.

  “So what is this about, Angus?” asked Alex. She sounded confused and worried. Turning to me, she added, “Ben and Destiny know about Angus, but other than that he is a total secret.”

  Putting his hands on his hips, the
brownie looked up at me and said, “You’ve been puttering about with magic, lad. I can sense it on you, and I want to know what it’s about.” Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Have you been to the Enchanted Realm?”

  “What’s the Enchanted Realm?” I asked.

  “It’s where the magical people live,” said Alex.

  “Huh?” was my brilliant response.

  “You know! Brownies and goblins and mermaids. That kind of thing.”

  “I am nae a thing!” Angus snapped.

  “Sorry,” said Alex. Turning back to me, she added, “Also magical creatures. You know…unicorns, griffins, dragons, and so on.”

  I couldn’t tell her that was stupid while I was staring at a guy who was only twelve inches tall.

  “Talk, boy!” Angus said. “What is happening with you? I hope you appreciate I’m takin’ a risk showing myself this way. But I fear you may be getting yourself in over your head. So…what have you been messing about with?”

  I told them about shaking hands with Ned, and being able to talk to Askeladden. I half expected Alex to laugh, but I guess the fact that she had a brownie living in her dollhouse made it easier to accept things like this.

  As for Angus, he squinched up his face, then said, “Alex, could you fetch Bubbles?”

  Bubbles is their family cat. He is big (though not as big as Askeladden), orange, and usually pretty surly.

  “Be right back,” Alex said.

  While she was gone I took a closer look at Angus. The little man appeared to be about as old as my dad. (Alex told me later that he’s actually one hundred and fifty!) He had thick, curly brown hair, a pointy nose, and large ears that were even more pointy. He wore a red coat, brown pants, and boots that curled up at the toes.

  “So…what are you thinking this is all about?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, I’m still gathering information. Now be quiet and let me think.”