Zeuglodon by James P. Blaylock Page A

sound of the ocean was in our ears along with the crackling of the fire and the cries of seagulls. It soon began to rain, and the falling rain was like a curtain in front of us, so that we were completely sheltered from the world. There was the smell of new rain in the air, like when rain falls on a dry sidewalk, and there was a strange droning sound, as if hive of bees lived at the back of the cave. Lala’s voice went on and on, very soft and even. It occurred to me that she was wandering somewhere in her own mind, lost in a memory, and was talking to herself.
    And then the strangest thing happened. The rain stopped, the clouds evaporated like steam, and the sky grew clear and sunny. Out over the ocean there appeared an airship that was like an illustration in an old book. It was far away, and yet I could see it quite clearly. It was built of bundles of sticks or bamboo, and had a big whirling propeller that must have been making the beehive sound. The wings were like bat wings, and the tail was more like the tail of a fish than of an airplane. It was humming through the air, moving slowly. Beyond it, hazy and distant, there appeared immensely high dark cliffs, as if an island had risen out of the sea, and the airship was flying above the tall trees of that island, and in the sky around it flew prehistoric birds, turning and gliding. Am I dreaming? I wondered. But I wasn’t. 
    After a time, I don’t know how long, a gust of wind blew into the cave and billowed the smoke from the driftwood fire out through the cave mouth, hiding the world outside. When it cleared away again, the airship was gone and the prehistoric island along with it. The rainy, north coast day was as it had been. Brendan and Perry both had a look of astonishment on their faces, just like I must have had, but before anyone said anything about the impossible airship and island, we saw that Lala was pointing out to sea, at a fishing boat that was maybe a quarter mile offshore, turning in toward the cove and coming along straight toward us. Because of the deep water, you can actually bring a boat right in close, and for a moment that looked like what was happening, that he was going to run it right up onto the beach. But then the boat slowed and stopped some distance out, and we could see the man at the wheel. He put a spyglass to his eye and peered straight at us.
    “It’s Wheyface the stinking Creeper !” Perry said, for it was indeed him.
    Lala ducked behind Brendan, who told her that she shouldn’t be afraid, and that we had settled the Creeper’s hash once and would do it again if he showed his ugly face. But of course he was showing his ugly face. We hadn’t settled his hash or anything of the sort.
    “Let’s go,” Perry said, “like Uncle Hedge told us.”
    I didn’t have to be asked twice. The fire had burned down, but I made sure that the embers were out with seawater from the bucket, and then we made our way across the trail and up to the top of the bluffs. The boat was still down there, rising and falling on the swell. Brendan shook his fist and shouted bold things, and Lala told him he was very brave, and then she grabbed his hand and they took off running up the sea path like two lovebirds, and within moments we couldn’t see them. When we looked back out to sea, the Creeper was turning the boat around and heading away.

Chapter 8

    Ms Peckworthy and the Smithfield
     
    “It was Lala doing it,” Perry said to me, as we came through the gate into the backyard. “Had to be—the island, the airship, the whole thing.”
    “Did you notice the humming noise?” I asked.
    “I thought it was a swarm of bees at first.”
    “So did I, but I think it was her. Not that she was humming. I don’t mean that, but she was making it happen. It stopped when she was distracted by the Creeper’s boat. Like it woke her up or something.”
    “Yes,” Perry said. “That’s it exactly. What we saw was mind projection, mass hallucination—the