When Mischief Came to Town by Katrina Nannestad

Author:Katrina Nannestad
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Chapter 11

The Stinking Fish

It’s a very odd feeling, waking up in a smokehouse.

The first thing I notice is that my skin is hot and dry and feels too tight for my face to fit inside. The next thing I notice is the smell. These herring were stinky enough when they were fresh, but I must have been in here for hours, and now that they are shriveling in the smoke, they smell a billion times worse.

Chunky Jorgensen and another old man are leaning over me. They are both holding a handkerchief over their faces. I’m not sure if it is to stop them from breathing in the smoke or the smell of the fish. The smell is really, really horrible.

“Yes, that’s her all right,” says Chunky. “She’s the little lass from Dizzy Bruland’s farm.”

The other man leans over and pokes at my cheek, then my hair.

“Doesn’t look much like a girl to me,” he says. “More like a smoked herring . . . or a smoked pig.”

Klaus pushes his way in between the two men and grins at me.

“Eww! You stink, Goat Girl!”

He waves his hand back and forth in front of his nose and begins to laugh.

“You don’t look too good, either,” he says. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

I don’t want to go home, but I don’t see what else I can do. I can’t stay here with the herring now that I’ve been discovered.

Chunky and his friend step aside while Klaus drags me out of the smokehouse. Chunky shouts after us, “And don’t you go stealing any fish on the way out, lad! I’m awake to your capers, never you mind!”

I am about to ask Klaus what Chunky means, but I am too shocked by how dark and chilly it is when I step outside. It is terribly late. I must have been asleep for hours and hours, probably smoked into a daze.

I stop at a water pump and drink like a camel. When I feel more like a girl than a dried-out fish carcass, I stand up straight and stare at Klaus.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask him. “Shouldn’t you be home, in bed?”

Klaus looks suddenly embarrassed, but then smiles his dopey, friendly grin.

“Shouldn’t you?” he says.

I wipe off the water that’s dribbling down my smoky, dried chin.

“That’s different,” I say. “I’m running away from home.”

“You were running away from home,” Klaus corrects me, and he takes my hand and drags me away from the smokehouse.

We are still walking along the harbor when a cat joins us. It leaps down from a stone fence and meows noisily. I am too tired to stop and stroke it, but it follows us anyway. Klaus sniggers a little, but I don’t see what’s so funny. It’s just an ordinary black and white cat.

Once we have turned the corner and are walking up the hill, two more cats join us—a big ginger tomcat and a pretty little gray one. There is a full moon tonight and I think that perhaps the cats are heading out to some sort of gathering on the hills.

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