Quinn and the Quiet Quiet Read online

  Weird Stories Gone Wrong

  Jake and the Giant Hand

  Myles and the Monster Outside

  Carter and the Curious Maze

  Alex and The Other

  Blackwells and the Briny Deep

  Quinn and the Quiet, Quiet

  Copyright © Philippa Dowding, 2019

  Illustrations © Shawna Daigle, 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purpose of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.

  All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Publisher: Scott Fraser | Acquiring editor: Scott Fraser | Editor: Allister Thompson

  Cover designer: Laura Boyle

  Cover illustration: Shawna Daigle

  Printer: Webcom, a division of Marquis Book Printing Inc.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Title: Quinn and the quiet, quiet / Philippa Dowding ; illustrations by Shawna Daigle.

  Names: Dowding, Philippa, 1963- author. | Daigle, Shawna, illustrator.

  Series: Dowding, Philippa, 1963- Weird stories gone wrong.

  Description: Series statement: Weird stories gone wrong.

  Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20190127252 | Canadiana (ebook) 20190127279 | ISBN 9781459743106 (softcover) | ISBN 9781459743113 (PDF) | ISBN 9781459743120 (EPUB)

  Classification: LCC PS8607.O9874 Q55 2019 | DDC jC813/.6—dc23

  1 2 3 4 5 23 22 21 20 19

  We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Ontario, through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and Ontario Creates, and the Government of Canada.

  Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites or their content unless they are owned by the publisher.

  Printed and bound in Canada.

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  For the keepers of the blue spark, and for you

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THIS PART IS (MOSTLY) TRUE

  CHAPTER ONE: CITIZEN CHILD QF12P

  CHAPTER TWO: OFF LIMITS! NO ENTRY!

  CHAPTER THREE: THE PACKAGE ROOM

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE SNOW CREATURE

  CHAPTER FIVE: THE BLUE SPARK

  CHAPTER SIX: CLEM IN THE CAVE

  CHAPTER SEVEN: BLUE BRICKTM BROKEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT: GOOD, DIX

  CHAPTER NINE: SNOWLIGHT

  CHAPTER TEN: IN THE MINES (PART ONE)

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: WHERE WILL WE BE?

  CHAPTER TWELVE: THE QUIET, QUIET

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: UNMASKED

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE NEWBLUES

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: IN THE MINES (PART TWO)

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: HELP US. HELP US. HELP US.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: SOMETHING ABOUT A BLUE LIGHT?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: STEADY, DIX!

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: SNOWLIGHT AND THE COMMANDER

  THIS PART IS (ALSO) MOSTLY TRUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  THIS PART IS (MOSTLY) TRUE

  You should know, before you even start this book, that it’s a little scary. And parts of it are even a bit weird and strange. I wish I could make the story less scary and strange, but this is the way I heard it, so I really have no choice.

  This story takes place on a snowy planet far away and starts like this:

  One day, a young Snow Creature looked down upon her world. She lived with her mother high in the mountains, on a glacier at the edge of a vast field of ice.

  Her world was very cold and snowy most of the time, but this day was different.

  This day was … warming. A change was in the air. The sun shone; the snow slowly melted at her feet for the first time in her life. And she smelled something wonderful.

  Something she couldn’t name.

  Her mother told her not to wander off. But her mother wasn’t watching….

  So, not really meaning to go far, the young Snow Creature left her icy world. She climbed down the mountain on her furry blue feet.

  That smell! That tantalizing smell! What WAS IT?

  Down the glacier she went, her blue tongue of fire licking and tasting the air, trying to find that delicious scent.

  She stopped on the green grass in a clearing. There were flowers (you and I would call them spring daisies) blooming at the edge of the forest.

  That’s what smelled so divine. Flowers!

  The young Snow Creature picked a few flowers and smiled at their dazzling colour. She gently tasted them with her blue-fire tongue and stroked them with her furry blue fingertips.

  Then a noise at the edge of the forest startled her.

  She turned … and there stood a Small One!

  She’d heard of them but never seen one before. Her mother said the smaller creatures dug into the blue mountain rock with sharp sticks.

  But why? she’d asked.

  Her mother couldn’t answer that.

  The Small One made a noise and pointed at her. Was it saying hello?

  The Snow Creature started to introduce herself. She took a few steps toward the smaller creature and put out her thoughts and her blue-fire tongue …

  … hello!

  The young Snow Creature tried to mind- talk to the other creature, because mind-talking was the only way she COULD talk. But the Small One didn’t hear her. Instead, the smaller creature made the strange noise again, louder and louder. It sounded like a shrieking wind.

  I am a friend … the Snow Creature thought, over and over again.

  She stroked the air with her blue-fire tongue, because that was how all Snow Creatures calmed themselves and each other.

  But the Small One just shrieked even louder.

  Then, suddenly, many Small Ones appeared from an opening in the mountain. And they ALL shrieked like the wind!

  A flash, a noise, and the young Snow Creature’s blue fur was pierced and jagged! A pain tore through her. She cried out for her mother — she really was very young, too young to be wandering away.

  Her mother heard her and raced down the mountain like an icy blue wind. In seconds, the young Snow Creature stood side by side with her enormous, blue, fiery-tongued mother …

  … which made the Small Ones shriek and jump up and down even more.

  The Snow Creature mother tried to mind-talk to the Small Ones, but they couldn’t hear her. She tried to calm them and licked the air with her tongue of blue fire …

  … but found out too late that the Small Ones cannot be licked by blue fire.

  No, in fact, instead of calming them, licking the air with her blue-fire tongue just made everything much worse. The Small Ones came in greater, louder numbers….

  The mother was afraid, then — what had she done? She and her child ran back up the mountain to their home on the distant ice. She didn’t mean to hurt anyone. But the Small Ones didn’t understand her mind-talking, so she couldn’t explain.

  Of course, the Small Ones had their own ve
rsion of what had happened.

  Their story was about two enormous blue monsters who appeared from the ice one day and breathed blue fire at everyone. I want to note that no one who tells this story mentions the part about the young Snow Creature holding daisies, except me.

  And perhaps you, one day.

  Whichever version you prefer to tell, the result was the same.

  The Small Ones were afraid. And after that, there was no peace for the Snow Creatures.

  I’m sorry to say what happens next, but here it is: Each spring, when the daisies appeared in the green fields at the foot of the mountains, the Small Ones hunted the Snow Creatures. They drove them to the far corners of their snowy world.

  Soon there were very few Snow Creatures left.

  But the mountains and glaciers were their home, and they got better at hiding.

  They were silent and spoke only with their thoughts.

  They were fast and almost invisible when they wanted to be.

  They watched with despair as the Small Ones dug into the blue rocks of the mountains. All the Snow Creatures wanted was a way to talk to them. The Snow Creature mother and her child didn’t mean to frighten them all those years ago.

  And could the Small Ones please stop digging into the blue rocks of their mountain home?

  But since they spoke only with their thoughts, there was no way to make the Small Ones understand.

  This went on for a long, long time.

  But then one day, a change crept into the world with a new blueness in some of the youngest Small Ones. Change slowly grew stronger with the snapping of the first tiny blue sparks.

  That’s where our story begins….

  You don’t have to believe this story. But just because things are odd or a little strange or unbelievable doesn’t always make them untrue. Truth is an odd thing; one person’s truth can be another person’s lie. That’s the most important thing to remember about this story: sometimes things that seem like lies are actually true. And sometimes you never can tell.

  That’s the strangest thing of all.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CITIZEN CHILD QF12P

  Tromp. Trod. Tromp.

  Quinn trudged, last in the line of Citizen Child workers from BunkHouse-47A. The snow lashed his face. The wind blew from the mountain and chilled him through his thin blue overalls.

  In the distance he heard the thud-thud-thud of machines at the Work Centre.

  Smoke from the Work Centre filled the air and mixed with the snow that whirled past. In the distance, the huge, shimmering blue glacier hung between the mountaintops and crept down to the edge of the valley.

  Quinn stared at the back of the boy ahead of him. He didn’t know his name — Quinn hadn’t really met anyone yet — but the boy had a long, thin face.

  Tromp. Trod. Tromp.

  The Work Van cleared snow from the road ahead. The engine roared, gears shrieked, treads squealed on the ice.

  It will never be quiet again, Quinn thought.

  On the side of the Work Van, a picture of a child smiled down. Below the smiling child were the words Citizen Child Blue Brick™ is BEST!

  In fact, there were pictures of Citizen Child everywhere. Painted on the side of buildings. Staring from billboards high above. Even stitched as a patch onto the shirt of every child from BunkHouse-47A.

  Quinn still hadn’t been there long enough to get used to the weird, smiling face of Citizen Child. He tried not to look at it.

  Stunted trees tossed in the sharp wind; snow whirled past. The children trudged along.

  BLEEEEEET!

  BLEEEEEET!

  An alarm whistle.

  Everyone stopped. Quinn tried not to bump into the long-faced boy ahead of him.

  What now? Oh, Cavers.

  A group of teenagers walked single file through the driving snow toward Quinn and the others in line. The teenagers wore orange overalls that were covered in blue dust from the caves in the mine. Blue dust lined the creases in their eyelids and their ears, clung to their lips. Blue dust fell from them into their footprints in the snow.

  The last of the Cavers walked past. The alarm whistle stopped. The line moved forward.

  Quinn took a step. Then, suddenly ... a Caver slipped into line behind him!

  A girl.

  “Shhhh,” she whispered.

  Quinn gasped. She was a Caver. She wore orange overalls, not blue ones!

  “What are you doing?” he whispered over his shoulder. “They’ll see you!”

  The Caver kept her head down. Thick braids swept over her blue-dusted cheeks.

  “Don’t worry!” Her Citizen Child patch showed her identity number: CU15C. “I’m Clem Usher, 15, Caver. They won’t see me!”

  “Clem who?”

  But she didn’t answer. Instead, she did an odd thing: she snatched off her glove, then snapped her fingers. For a second, a tiny blue spark flickered in the air above her hand, then went out.

  Quinn gasped again. How’d she do that?

  Clem Usher whispered in his ear. “Tell the NewBlues I’m gone! Wish me luck!”

  NewBlues?

  She crouched low, looked around … then dashed behind the Work Van.

  A moment later, Quinn watched her run into the snowstorm. For a second, a strange blue shimmer shook the snowy air around her.

  What was THAT?

  Quinn shook his head and blinked a few times. I could NOT have just seen a BLUE CLOUD swallow her up! I must be going crazy!

  Quinn was the only one who had seen Clem Usher run away.

  Or so he thought.

  BLEEEET! BLEEEET!

  The alarm whistles again! The Citizen Child workers halted and stood silently, heads down against the blowing snow. The Work Van stopped and two Officers jumped out. They strapped on short skis and chased after Clem Usher.

  Skush, skush, skush.

  Then Quinn’s heart almost stopped.

  A huge metallic leg unfolded from the Van. A second leg followed. A third.

  CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

  A Work Bot stepped onto the snow.

  CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

  Taller than the Van, the Work Bot had a huge, square body. From its metal head shone a bright orange beam of light. The Work Bot tested the snowy surface with its three legs.

  CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

  Each leg ended in a metal claw for gripping ice and snow.

  Run, Clem Usher! Quinn thought.

  The Work Bot turned and ran after the Officers.

  CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

  Then … an Officer stepped slowly out of the Work Van. He had the letter “C” on his chest: the Commander.

  Quinn stared at his feet. The Commander walked along the line of children and stopped in front of Quinn.

  “Identity!” the Commander barked. All Officers wore masks to block the blue dust, so the Commander’s voice was strangely muffled.

  “Q-Quinn Fleet, 12, Packager.”

  “PROPER identity!”

  “QF12P,” Quinn said.

  The other children from BunkHouse-47A shivered in their thin clothes. No one wanted to look at Quinn.

  “Well, QF12P, who was that Citizen Child? The Caver you just helped run away?” The Commander pointed after Clem Usher.

  Quinn swallowed.

  “I–I don’t know who that was. And … and I didn’t help them run away!”

  “No? Then why did she hide behind you?”

  “Because I was last in line?”

  The Commander shook his head. “Come with me, QF12P.”

  The Commander yanked Quinn out of line. The last thing he saw was the long face of the boy ahead of him.

  The boy stared at Quinn for a moment. Then, in the next second, he ripped off a glove.

  The boy snapped his fingers.

  A tiny blue spark lifted into the air!

  That blue spark again! How do they do that?

  The Commander shoved Quinn into the dark Work Van. The door slammed shut.

>   And Quinn Fleet, 12, Packager, was all alone in the dark.

  CHAPTER TWO

  OFF LIMITS! NO ENTRY!

  The Work Van rolled along. Quinn sat quietly. It was so dark he couldn’t see his hands or his feet. Then … the Van stopped with a lurch. The door slid open, and Quinn blinked up into an Officer’s masked face.

  “QF12P, come with me!”

  Quinn stepped into a long, empty hallway.

  This must be the lowest level of the Work Centre, he thought. He could hear the machines working nearby in the darkness.

  Thud-thud-thud.

  The Officer led Quinn past a closed grey door. Then another. And another. They passed poster after poster of Citizen Child smiling down from the grey walls.

  At last, they stopped at a grey door that looked like all the rest. The Officer passed his work pad over the handle, and the door popped open.

  “Wait inside, QF12P.”

  Quinn stood alone in the dark room.

  You’ve done nothing wrong, he said to himself. It’s just a mix-up. They think you helped that Caver run away. Clem Usher. But you’ve never even seen her before.

  Quinn’s hand went to the Citizen Child patch on his chest. He ran his finger over the stitches at the bottom: QF12P.

  He pulled at a loose thread.

  His mouth was dry….

  Suddenly, a bright light switched on overhead. Quinn shielded his eyes.

  “Citizen Child QF12P!” boomed a loud voice.

  The voice came from a box in the ceiling. A cracked painting of Citizen Child grinned down from the wall. But from where Quinn stood, it looked more like a frown. And Citizen Child didn’t look like any worker Quinn had ever seen.

  For one thing, Citizen Child looked well fed. And clean.

  Quinn held his woollen hat in his hands. He looked up at the box and nodded. “Yes. I–I’m QF12P.”

  “Do you know why you are here, QF12P?” the voice came again.

  Quinn shook his head.

  “Did you help Citizen Child CU15C run away?”

  Quinn swallowed. I didn’t help. She hid behind me, then ran away!

  “Well, QF12P? What’s your answer?”

  He shook his head. “No. I didn’t help.” His stomach rumbled. The two food biscuits he’d had that morning were long gone. His mind raced, his knees were weak.