No More Pranks Read Free Page A

krill—the same shrimp-like creatures that whales eat. So if you spot birds flying close to the water, it’s usually a good indication that there are whales close by. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Pierrot, since you were out in a kayak?”
    I let the “Pierrot” slip. If Uncle Jean wasn’t going to get upset with me about my prank, I figured I couldn’t very well complain about his calling me the name he used to call me when I was a kid. Last time I was up in Tadoussac was when I was about six. I know because there’s a picture of me on the mantel at home. In it, I’m in a kayak, sitting in front, and my dad’s where Uncle Jean is now. Anyway, it’s so long ago all I can remember is remembering being here.
    Suddenly a small brown head peeked out of the water, no more than ten feet ahead of us. “Look!” I called out, resting my paddle on the side of the kayak so I could get a better view. Whatever it was looked like a dog that had been left out in the rain. A moment later he slipped back underneath the water, leaving only some swirls on its surface.
    â€œHarbor seal,” Uncle Jean said in a low voice. “They startle easily.”
    He’d put his paddle down too, and for a few minutes we just floated on the still water.
    â€œAbout the frog in that lady’s life jacket,” Uncle Jean began in the same low voice he’d used before. So he was going to confront me, after all.
    This time I was glad not to have to look at him.
    â€œI’m sorry about that, Uncle Jean,” I said, trying to sound as sorry as possible. I hate apologizing—it makes me feel like an idiot who does everything wrong—but it was kind of a relief when the words were out.
    â€œLook, your parents told me about the trouble they’ve been having with you. But I don’t want to talk about that. When you came to stay with us in Tadoussac, it was a new start. But Pierrot, that lady could have had more than a shock. The kayak could have tipped over. Like this—”
    And just then, before I could complain about being called Pierrot again, Uncle Jeandid the one thing you’re
never
supposed to do in a kayak. He leaned over hard, so that all his weight bore down on one side of the kayak. And Uncle Jean is big. He’s over six feet and not skinny either. I figure he must weigh about 250 pounds.
    I tried to lean into the other side of the kayak, but it didn’t make much of a difference. We were toppling over! As my body lurched to the left, I could feel the cold breeze coming off the water.
    We were about to capsize. Aunt Daisy’s words rang in my head, like a song you can’t forget, no matter how hard you try. “Three minutes until you lose sensation in your extremities. Three minutes until…” Without meaning to, I wriggled my fingers and toes. While I still could.
    Uncle Jean must be out of his mind. What was he trying to do? Drown us?
    All at once the kayak regained its balance. Its prow lifted itself up from the murky water, covering me with a mist of watery droplets. Uncle Jean was laughing—so loud the sound echoed in the surrounding coves.
    It was only then that I started to tremble, every part of my body shaking as if I had actually fallen into the icy waters of the St. Lawrence.
    Then I heard Uncle Jean’s voice. This time it was booming, not low the way it had been before. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play pranks, Pierrot. When I was your age, I was pretty good at pranks myself. But there’s one thing I want to tell you, and you’ve got to understand it—no more pranks! You got that?”
    â€œI got—” I said, but I never finished my sentence. A huge, dark shadow was moving through the water right next to us.
    â€œLook at that baby!” Uncle Jean whispered when the whale’s head surfaced about eight feet ahead of us, and a plume of mist came spouting from its