On Tuesdays, the Deseret Morning News publishes a chapter from a serialized book that can be read to children or they can read to themselves. This is the 10th installment of "Ida's End of the Rainbow."

CHAPTER 10: The Overworld: Part III

Ida heard a noise above her. Looking up from her rapidly shrinking shrimp island, she saw a bird circling overhead. Out of desperation, she waved her arms at the bird.

The bird saw Ida signaling and swooped down. "Ahoy! Ahoy!" it called as it approached. As it drew closer, Ida saw it was a pelican.

The baby pelicans in Ida's jacket also heard the pelican's call and began to fidget. Before Ida could silence the approaching bird, the chicks woke and burst from the jacket like fuzzy bombs.

Ida reached for the babies frantically, but they escaped her grasp and tumbled off the shrimp raft. In her hurry to save the baby pelicans, Ida leaned too far off the raft herself, lost her balance and fell. Expecting to sink, she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes as she hit the water — but she did not sink. For a moment she thought the brine shrimp had spread to save her, but when she opened her eyes, she saw the brine shrimp were gone and she was lying on top of the water!

Ida did not move. Somehow she was defying natural law, and she didn't want to give herself away.

Before her, the chicks were happy and well, and running across the water like skipped stones toward the approaching pelican. The older pelican was still calling wildly, but now he had changed his call. Now he was crying, "My babies, my babies! You're found! You're safe!" He swept in, landed on the water as if on land, and circled his great wings around the chicks. The babies cried happily and seemed, in their tiny voices, to call, "Ahoy! Ahoy!"

For a moment, watching the chicks cuddle against what could only be their father, Ida forgot she was lying on water. The father pelican kissed each chick tenderly. Then he counted them twice to make sure none were missing. When he was sure all were well, he turned to Ida. Weaving between his legs, the chicks ran back to Ida's sprawled body and pulled happily at her clothes. Warily, Ida sat up.

The father pelican smiled and said, "Ahoy, ahoy! How can I ever thank you enough? You've saved my babies!"

"You're welcome," said Ida.

"No, you don't understand," the father continued. "I lost their mother to that ruleless trail and, without you, I would have lost them too! What can I do to repay you?"

"Will you show me the way across the lake?" asked Ida. "The trail ended, I'm not sure why I haven't drowned yet, and I don't know which way to go."

The father pelican nodded as if he understood. "I see from your clean clothes and manners that you haven't been this way before. This is the last of the Shoreline Trail. The minute you stepped off the brine path, you returned to the world of rules."

"Rules?" asked Ida. "But the rules where I come from say I can't sit on water."

"The rules are the same here, but you aren't sitting on water."

Ida looked down in disbelief.

"Well, not just water," said the father pelican. "This is a salt lake. The salt content of this lake is so high you're practically on solid ground."

Ida touched the water. Only with effort could she push her hand in and swirl it around. "Salt?"

"Yes. This is a great salt lake — a big tourist attraction, though heaven knows why. But you didn't ask about salt. You asked about directions." The father pelican pointed one long wing across the lake. "Just follow the sun. Before it sets tonight, you'll get where you're going." With that, the pelican called his children to him and loaded them gently into his broad beak. While the chicks chirped their high-pitched good-byes, the father pelican stood, spread his powerful wings and flew away.

Deciding to trust the pelican, Ida turned toward the sun and started walking.

After a while, the water began to move, propelling Ida forward like a moving walkway. Then it began to move faster. First dancing, then running, then sprinting. Ida lost her balance and fell to her bottom. Still the water was gaining speed.

Then, in the distance, like an awaking dragon's eye, a dark spot appeared. At first, it was just a slit, but as Ida sped closer, it blinked and grew into a gaping black hole. It was a whirlpool and Ida was caught in its iron grip!

Ida stared ahead in helpless dread until, at last, she was upon it.

The water dropped away from her, and for a moment, she hovered over the enormous flushing chasm. Then her foot caught the rush of the torrential drain and pulled her in. Ripping and roaring around her, the water tore at her arms and legs and forbade her to cover her ears or scream. Round and round she went, and then — the worst of all — her head was sucked below the surface! The noise, the air, everything was gone in a moment, and Ida remembered no more.

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Next Week: The Outerworld: Part I


L.S. Kunz was born and raised in Sandy, in a neighborhood very similar to Ida's. She received a bachelor's degree in English from Brigham Young University and a law degree from the University of Utah, and now lives with her husband in Salt Lake City. When she's not working, she enjoys running, hiking, camping, reading and traveling. This is the first story that she has published.

Christie Jackson is an artist in the Deseret Morning News art/graphics department. She has worked for the paper for 24 years.

Publication of "Ida's End of the Rainbow" is sponsored by the Deseret Morning News Newspapers in Education Department. Copyright © 2007, L.S. Kunz

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