silently for a moment and his angry scowl softened into a rather sad frown. "Well, yer here now ... Come on up here and lemme have a decent look at the both of ya."
Hill and Alfonso walked up the spiral staircase and emerged into a small nook with a desk, a chair, and dozens of stacks of yellowing papers. Apparently, this was Dusty's office. Dusty himself was built like a bulldog. Though Hill later said Dusty was at least seventy years old, he still looked tough, with meaty fists, iron biceps, and shoulders rippling with muscles. In contrast, his face was filled with oversize pudgy cheeks, a slightly askew nose, and ears that stuck out like a rabbit's.
"I can't believe Lil' Hilly has come back to visit," said Dusty with a shake of his head. "Now tell me, while ya got me in a tolerably good mood, what's this favor ya need?"
"Two things," said Hill. "First off, Alfonso's grandfather is with us and he's got a busted leg. He needs to see the doctor."
"Easy enough," said Dusty. "An' the second favor?"
"Well, um, you see, we need to book passage on a ship to the northern Urals," said Hill.
"Oh boy!" said Dusty with a dry chortle. "That'll be much, much, much trickier. The only one who makes that run is Vice Admiral Purcheezie."
"Vice Admiral who?" inquired Alfonso.
"That's the sea captain I was telling you about," explained Hill excitedly. "She's the one who brought us here from the Urals all those years ago."
"The thing is," continued Dusty, "there's absolutely no chance that she'll take ya with 'er. None at all! She never takes passengersânot anymore. But she does owe me a favorâa very big favor. And I might be willin' to call that favor in for ya, and get ya onboard that ship, but ya got to do somethin' for me. Understand?"
"I'll do whatever you need me to do," said Hill eagerly.
"Not interested," said Dusty. "It's gotta be young Alfonso."
Chapter 6
THE GAME OF BALLAST
L ATE THAT evening, Alfonso, Hill, Judy, and Pappy found themselves in a cramped windowless bunkroom in the Magrewski warehouse. The Dormian bloom lay hidden under an old-fashioned top hat that someone had left behind and long since forgotten. A small potbelly stove burned in the corner, giving off heat and casting a warm, cozy glow across the room. For the time being, everyone seemed contentâeven Pappy. The doctor's office had been quick and efficient, and the on-duty nurse had set Pappy's leg, wrapped it in a sturdy cast, and tested him to make sure there was no infection. Pappy would be on strict bed rest for a few days, but then he'd be able to move around with crutches.
All evening long, various older longshoremen had been stopping by the room to say hello to Hill and to pay their respects to Leif's wife and son. These were welcome visits, especially since they seemed to confirm that Hill and Leif were brothers. The longshoremen were happy to see Hill, but they were even happier to see Alfonso. One at a time, at least a dozen big, gruff longshoremen came into the bunkroom, smiled shyly, and then asked to shake Alfonso's hand. One longshoreman even asked for Alfonso's autograph. At first, Alfonso found this very perplexing, but eventually Hill explained what was going on. "Your father was an extremely talented mole rat," said Hill. "He was really a superstar around here."
"My dad was a mole rat?" Alfonso asked. "What does that mean?"
"It's a sporting term," explained Hill. "It involves a game called ballast. On any given ballast team, the mole rat is the most important position. He's a little bit like the quarterback in a football game."
"Still, I don't get it," said Alfonso. "Even if my father was a good mole rat, why are the Magrewskis so excited about
me
being here?"
"Because your father always played ballast in his sleep," explained Hill. "And the word is out that you are an even more talented sleeper than he was."
"How did that happen?" asked Judy suspiciously.
"I don't know," said Hill awkwardly. "I guess I might have
Hill and Alfonso walked up the spiral staircase and emerged into a small nook with a desk, a chair, and dozens of stacks of yellowing papers. Apparently, this was Dusty's office. Dusty himself was built like a bulldog. Though Hill later said Dusty was at least seventy years old, he still looked tough, with meaty fists, iron biceps, and shoulders rippling with muscles. In contrast, his face was filled with oversize pudgy cheeks, a slightly askew nose, and ears that stuck out like a rabbit's.
"I can't believe Lil' Hilly has come back to visit," said Dusty with a shake of his head. "Now tell me, while ya got me in a tolerably good mood, what's this favor ya need?"
"Two things," said Hill. "First off, Alfonso's grandfather is with us and he's got a busted leg. He needs to see the doctor."
"Easy enough," said Dusty. "An' the second favor?"
"Well, um, you see, we need to book passage on a ship to the northern Urals," said Hill.
"Oh boy!" said Dusty with a dry chortle. "That'll be much, much, much trickier. The only one who makes that run is Vice Admiral Purcheezie."
"Vice Admiral who?" inquired Alfonso.
"That's the sea captain I was telling you about," explained Hill excitedly. "She's the one who brought us here from the Urals all those years ago."
"The thing is," continued Dusty, "there's absolutely no chance that she'll take ya with 'er. None at all! She never takes passengersânot anymore. But she does owe me a favorâa very big favor. And I might be willin' to call that favor in for ya, and get ya onboard that ship, but ya got to do somethin' for me. Understand?"
"I'll do whatever you need me to do," said Hill eagerly.
"Not interested," said Dusty. "It's gotta be young Alfonso."
Chapter 6
THE GAME OF BALLAST
L ATE THAT evening, Alfonso, Hill, Judy, and Pappy found themselves in a cramped windowless bunkroom in the Magrewski warehouse. The Dormian bloom lay hidden under an old-fashioned top hat that someone had left behind and long since forgotten. A small potbelly stove burned in the corner, giving off heat and casting a warm, cozy glow across the room. For the time being, everyone seemed contentâeven Pappy. The doctor's office had been quick and efficient, and the on-duty nurse had set Pappy's leg, wrapped it in a sturdy cast, and tested him to make sure there was no infection. Pappy would be on strict bed rest for a few days, but then he'd be able to move around with crutches.
All evening long, various older longshoremen had been stopping by the room to say hello to Hill and to pay their respects to Leif's wife and son. These were welcome visits, especially since they seemed to confirm that Hill and Leif were brothers. The longshoremen were happy to see Hill, but they were even happier to see Alfonso. One at a time, at least a dozen big, gruff longshoremen came into the bunkroom, smiled shyly, and then asked to shake Alfonso's hand. One longshoreman even asked for Alfonso's autograph. At first, Alfonso found this very perplexing, but eventually Hill explained what was going on. "Your father was an extremely talented mole rat," said Hill. "He was really a superstar around here."
"My dad was a mole rat?" Alfonso asked. "What does that mean?"
"It's a sporting term," explained Hill. "It involves a game called ballast. On any given ballast team, the mole rat is the most important position. He's a little bit like the quarterback in a football game."
"Still, I don't get it," said Alfonso. "Even if my father was a good mole rat, why are the Magrewskis so excited about
me
being here?"
"Because your father always played ballast in his sleep," explained Hill. "And the word is out that you are an even more talented sleeper than he was."
"How did that happen?" asked Judy suspiciously.
"I don't know," said Hill awkwardly. "I guess I might have
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