Up by Jim LaMarche Page A

an inch or two. And he never spilled even a drop of fish water when he dusted.
    â€œNice job,” said Mom. “You even got the dust bunnies from under your bed.”

    One Sunday afternoon, Dad stretched out on the sofa with the paper and was soon snoring. Daniel tiptoed in and hid behind the sofa.
    Just for a warm-up, he lifted Dad’s coffee cup and saucer. The spoon slipped off the saucer and clattered to the floor. Dad snorted, but was soon snoring again.
    Daniel stared intently at his father. Gently, he began to lift him up.
    Just then the kitchen door slammed. Mom and Michael. Daniel jumped. Dad plopped back down on the sofa.
    â€œWhat? What?!” he sputtered. “Mouse, is that you?”
    Daniel held his breath and didn’t move. Finally Dad put his head back down and went back to sleep.
    When Mom and Michael came in, Daniel was lying on the floor reading the comics. “Shhhhh. Dad’s sleeping,” he whispered.

    As the days passed, Daniel’s ability got stronger and stronger. He could lift bigger and bigger things. But it was always the same. Never left or right. Never back and forth. Just up. And that, not much. What was the use of this? he wondered.
    Then one evening when he was coming in for dinner, Mom asked, “Did you see Dad and Michael at the dock?” Daniel hadn’t. “Maybe we’d better go see what’s taking them so long,” she said.
    The
Toni Marie
was in, tied up to the dock, but Michael and Dad weren’t around. Daniel and his mother started walking along the cliffs. They heard the shouts before they got to the cove.
    â€œLook, Daniel!” cried Mom. “That poor whale has beached itself.”
    â€œWill it die?” Daniel asked.
    â€œIf it can’t get back to deep water, yes,” said Mom.
    Dad, Michael, and the other fishermen were pulling and pushing with all their strength, but the whale wasn’t moving.
    â€œCome on, Mom!” Daniel shouted. “We’ve got to help.”
    The men looked worried. “We’ve been here for an hour,” said Dad, “and we haven’t been able to budge this poor whale even an inch.”
    â€œI think I can help,” said Daniel softly.
    Michael laughed out loud. A few of the men smiled. But Daniel’s father didn’t laugh. He looked at Daniel strangely, as if he were studying him.
    â€œI think Mouse is a lot stronger than he looks, Michael,” he said. “Let’s all try it one more time.”
    The men returned to their places around the whale. His mother took off her shoes and socks and joined them. Daniel moved to the whale’s side. He placed his hands on the smooth skin. He looked into the whale’s eye. Then he shut his eyes and concentrated.
    Daniel heard the water lapping softly against his legs. He heard the gulls screeching overhead and the seals sniffing further out in the water. He thought he heard the whale sigh. He felt the whale’s cool skin and his fingers tingled. His heart pounded. He seemed to feel the whale’s blood in his own veins. And then he felt calm.
    Slowly, slowly, so slowly no one even noticed it, the whale lifted up. Not much. But with everyone pushing, not much was enough. The whale edged slowly back into deeper water. Further and further, until finally it was deep enough to swim.
    Then, with a couple of strokes of its huge tail, the whale turned and swam away, free.
    Everyone splashed one another and danced on the beach and cheered. No one knew how they had ever been able to do it, but wasn’t it wonderful that they had, they marveled. Laughing and clapping one another on the back, they all went home to supper.
    But Daniel and Michael and their parents stood there a while longer.
    Finally Daniel’s father spoke.
    â€œWe’d better get going,” he said. “We could use some supper, too. And you need to get to bed early tonight, Daniel.” He smiled. “The
Toni Marie
leaves