Steemjammer: Through the Verltgaat Read Online Free PDF Page A

number of sites.
    “We must be from some backwater, remote place in Europe,” he guessed, “where they speak a version of Dutch that no one uses anymore.”
    “Is that even possible?”
    With a heavy sigh, he put down his tools.
    “I may have been there, when I was really little,” he confessed as a vague and distant memory wafted ghost-like through his mind.
    Her face lit up. “Tell me!”
    “It’s not much. I remember big mountains with snow and a huge waterfall. And some stone buildings, like an old castle. Once, I tried to ask Dad about it - really ask him. You know, not let him wiggle out and give a non-answer.
    “But I wasn’t able to do it. As big and strong and smart as he is, I got this feeling it would hurt him, that I shouldn’t push. So I didn’t.”
    She looked down, thinking.
    “I feel the same,” she said.
    Worried she was about to get moody, he fished around for something to say and realized they’d forgotten a chore. “Verdoor, what about the prince and princess?”
    “Poor things,” she said. “They must be starving.”
    “While I finish this, you put out some herrings to thaw, and we’ll let them out. You know how protective they are. If that weird man’s still anywhere near, they’ll smell him and make him wish he’d never been to Ohio!”
     
    ***
     
    As Angelica approached the igloo, a frantic tapping erupted on the other side of its little wooden door. She opened it, and out surged a pair of large aquatic birds, honking huffily as if to say “it’s about time!” Called Koonen-Kroogen ( Royal-Crowned ) penguins, they waddled speedily down a narrow path in the woods behind Beverkenhaas.
    No ordinary Antarctic fowl, these had deep purple feathers the color of high quality amethyst. Their undersides glistened silvery white, and the tops of their heads were crowned with tufted, golden yellow plumage. Will and Angelica had to trot to keep up with them.
    In the summer, the birds preferred the coldness of their igloo, but they needed exercise, even if the only available water was warm and fresh. This chore never felt like work to the kids. The large and intelligent birds, with their awkward waddling and playful natures, always made them smile.
    Deep in the vacant land behind their house, a tiny creek fed a shallow pond. Prince Toorstin and Princess Clementina, as they were called, squawked with joy and rushed ahead. They belly-flopped off a mud bank into the clear water and streaked around like a pair of purple torpedoes, while the Steemjammer kids tossed them partially thawed herrings. They liked them cold.
    “The man in the green coat’s long gone,” Will observed, “or Toory and Clemmie would have sensed him. And look.”
    He pointed at fresh footprints in some mud.
    “See how far apart they are? That means he was running and probably very scared. We’re safe now.”
    His sister had something else on her mind.
    “There are no mountains in Holland,” she said out of the blue. “It’s totally flat. I saw it on the Internet.”
    “Yeah,” Will said absentmindedly as he tossed cold herrings left and right, making sure one bird didn’t get more than the other.
    “Dad says we’re from Holland, but you remember snow-capped mountains. How?”
    He stopped in mid-throw, realizing she was right. That was weird.
    “Never thought of it,” he said, tossing the fish. “Maybe it’s not a memory. I could have seen a picture.”
    But he knew that wasn’t true. He could still feel the sting of cold in his nose and the pain in his chest when he ran or went up steps. Like a dream, he recalled his mother’s voice explaining “thin air” to him.
    “Or maybe something isn’t right,” Angelica said, wagging a herring at him. “You know there’s no such thing as purple penguins. The Internet says so.”
    Will made a face. “So, we’re feeding herrings to what, hallucinations?”
    “Maybe Dad dyes their feathers.”
    Will burst out laughing. “Did you ever see him do