Antsy Floats Read Online Free PDF Page A

you’ve been waiting for. The description of the one, the only Plethora of the Deep . But you know what? I’m not even gonna bother. Just go online and type in “big honking boat” and you’ll find everything you need to know. I mean, take the biggest freaking thing you can possibly imagine and then triple it. As Howie put it, “It’s the closest thing on earth to an Imperial Star Destroyer.” It’s so big, even the inside cabins have balconies, which to me implies that alternate dimensions are involved, but what do I know?
    Even the brand-new cruise terminal looked like something right off the cover of a sci-fi novel. I nearly got hit by a taxi staring up at it as we got off the bus.
    I can’t really say the weird stuff started at the cruise terminal, because weird stuff has been sticking to my heels like toilet paper for as long as I can remember. Not just weird stuff but weird people with weirder problems. I’m like a magnet for the normality impaired. So naturally, I’m the one who sees something freaky.
    See, inside the cruise terminal, there’s this big floor-to-ceiling glass wall, designed to give you a spectacular view of the ship—but the ship’s so big, all you can see is this endless wall of balconies eighteen stories high. At this point, we’re all waiting in line to check in, and I’m sweating because, unlike airport security, these cruise line agents are chatty, and what if they want to match us up with our birth certificates and my parents find out that Howie is suddenly my brother.
    Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. I turn to the window, and someone’s falling from the ship.
    I’ve seen people fall before. First, I saw a guy fall from a bridge—although that time it was just a dummy and we had thrown it on purpose. The second time, though, it was a real guy falling from a parade balloon that got stuck on the top of the Empire State Building. I’m sure you’ve seen it a million times online, including the version with added sound effects that make it obnoxious instead of tragic.
    This time it happened so quickly, I couldn’t be exactly sure what I saw—but I was pretty sure it was a person. The faller plunged past the balconies, but instead of hitting the dock, he disappeared in that narrow gap between the dock and the ship, which was maybe twenty feet wide. I didn’t hear him hit the water because the cruise terminal was playing a loud steel drum version of “Hot, Hot, Hot” on endless repeat.
    I shouted out something that my teachers would call an “expletive,” which in turn brought a head smack from my mother, which the security guard next to us seemed to approve of.
    â€œDid you see that?” I said, my voice about two octaves higher than normal. “This guy . . . the ship . . . he fell!” My brain couldn’t quite put the words in order.
    Howie shrugged. “I didn’t see anything.”
    My dad turned to look at the ship like he’s gonna see the instant replay. I looked around, but no one else had seen. The other cruisers were too busy fussing over their paperwork or complaining about security confiscating their hidden stash of alcohol.
    â€œCome on, somebody has to have seen it.” But apparently it was just me.
    â€œIt was your imagination,” grumbled Crawley. “Move along.”
    But I’m too much of a moron to let it go. I ducked under the velvet rope and left the line. “I’ll be right back.”
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    A cruise terminal is not like an airport; it’s more like a warehouse. Downstairs, all the luggage that just came off the ship from the previous cruise was organized in a massive room full of sunburned people futilely trying to find the pieces that belonged to them. Guards who looked like they might Taser you for sneezing in their direction were everywhere. But one