Puddlejumpers Read Online Free

cure from the colic was a mystery, but then there were other strange occurrences for which Russ had no explanation. For several weeks he hadn’t been getting as much milk from his cows. He regularly gave extra milk to the Woodruffs, but now there was barely enough for his cereal. For the first time in years, he had to buy the store-bought variety in town. Sometimes he found the cartons sitting empty in the refrigerator. One night he came upon a puddle of milk near the open fridge door. There was just no explaining it.
    There was also no explaining the toys that somehow found their way back into the baby’s hands after he’d put them away. Or the voices he sometimes heard coming from the nursery, as if Shawn were in a conversation with someone. Or the puddles he’d found in different places around the farm. They appeared out of nowhere and seemed to persist day after day, even without a drop of rain. There was one near the corral and another one behind the barn, and it hadn’t rained in a week.
    When Doc Thorpe stopped by to check on Shawn, he and Russ visited the puddles together. “Could they be seeping up from an underground spring?” wondered Doc.
    â€œI doubt it,” said Russ. “It’s not just one spot. They’re here, there, and everywhere.”
    They went inside to play a game of chess. Pitch stayed behind, staring at the corral puddle. When Doc left an hour later, the dog was still there, sticking her nose in and out of the water like she was bobbing for apples. Both men shared a good laugh over that one.

    When Shawn was three months old, another Puddlejumper came to the Up Above. His name was Cully. He was a scout who’d traveled farther from the Kingdom than any other living Jumper and was famous for telling stories that lasted whole days. He was agile and quick, which surprised everyone, because he was built like a stump. He loved to eat and drink, and his big belly shook when he laughed.
    It was the night of the full moon when Cully made his first visit. He’d come to initiate Shawn into the ways of the Puddlejumper tribe. Perched on either side of Snow White, Root and Runnel could hear Pitch wagging her tail at the foot of the crib and Russ’ snores from the other room. Cully gripped the baby’s finger and began to whisper, his voice rippling like a quiet stream past Shawn’s ear, “Wawaywo, listen, I’ve come to tell you about the Beginning. We were pebbles at the bottom of the ocean when a blue whale took us in her belly and brought us to MotherEarth. There we lived a thousand years, until we plunged down the great waterfall, where we were born rolling and tumbling all the way to the river.”
    Root and Runnel listened intently from the crib rail. Like all Puddlejumpers, they loved to hear their tribal lore. Though they knew the baby couldn’t yet understand their language, they were convinced the meaning would find a way into his heart and soul.
    â€œWawaywo, I want to tell you about the rain, the rain that feeds us and brightens our spirits with its lively patter and sweet smell. Rain fills the streams and rivers, every lake and well. It washes everything clean and brings the earth to life.” Shawn listened, entranced by Cully’s soothing voice. “But there are those who hate what we love most.”
    Root and Runnel shuddered.
    â€œTroggs,” he whispered. “Troggs are big—bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. They crush and kill everything in their path. As sure as the acorn drops from the tree, they will come to find us. Nothing can stop them, except the rain. When it rains, Troggs bury themselves in the ground and howl and curse. Thunder scares them and lightning blinds their eyes. They hate the rain, they hate even water itself, every drop, and because we are the caretakers of the water, they hate us most of all.”
    Shawn began to fidget, almost as if he could understand.
    â€œA day is