Gaia Girls Way of Water Read online

  PRAISE FOR GAIA GIRLS ENTER THE EARTH

  “[A] well-written supernatural adventure...Welles deftly handles the increasing tension…presenting an interesting, exciting story. We eagerly await the next installment.” -Kirkus Reviews

  “Gaia Girls is an engaging parable of taking responsibility for one’s place on the Earth... for all ages.” -Midwest Book Review

  “Gaia Girls is a page-turner with a message that neither kids nor parents can afford to miss.” -Writer’s Voice

  “This is the first book in a very engaging and thought provoking new series which explores the idea that the earth is a living breathing organism. The author’s descriptions of Elizabeth’s magical experiences with nature are so special that many readers may find themselves envying her her abilities and her connections with the natural world around her.” - TTLG Children’s Book Review

  “…the environmental focus of the book is worked in so well that a reader might not even realize that they are learning something along the way.” -YA Books Central

  “Gaia Girls is a delightful book with a powerful message. An exciting story that will get kids thinking about the world around them and how they can make a difference too!” –Kids Bookshelf Review

  “Following in the vein of Nancy Drew, the Babysitters Club, and, dare I say it, Harry Potter, the Gaia Girls series is the next group to offer heroes battling modern day villains for the kid with an eco-conscience. Enter the Earth is a great read.” -Treehugger.com

  “Despite this book (and the music, secret codes and website) being aimed at a younger audience it does capture adults with all the ease of Harry Potter. I for one will be lining up for copies of the next books.” -CityHippy.com

  “Harry Potter meets Sierra Club...While the book is intended for younger readers and is full of whimsical elements, like talking otters, Welles manages to balance the cuteness with frank depictions of factory farming operations. Enter the Earth is an engrossing story for all ages.” -Collegiate Times

  THE GAIA GIRLS SERIES

  What would you do if you could hear the Earth asking for help? Would accept the challenge? Would you accept the powers? In the Gaia Girls Book Series, that is what happens to four girls, each from a different region of the world. Gaia, the living organism of the earth, approaches each because they have a love of place and willingness to listen to the world around them.

  In the first four books of the series you will meet the girls, each endowed with powers of one of the four elements: earth, air, fire and water. Using their powers, they help Gaia survive modern humanity and grow to better understand the connectedness of all things.

  In books 5, 6 and 7 the girls come together as a team. Of course, powers can clash—as can personalities. The girls come to learn what we all must learn—we share this earth. To keep it a wonderful place to live, we sometimes have to put aside what we want, listen to each other and act for the greater good.

  Gaia Girls

  Way of Water

  Gaia Girls

  Way of Water

  LEE WELLES

  ILLUSTRATED BY CAROL COOGAN

  Chelsea Green Publishing Company

  White River Junction, Vermont

  Text copyright © 2007 by Lee Welles.

  Cover art copyright © 2007 Ann Hameister.

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 Carol Coogan.

  All rights reserved.

  Gaia Girls and associated logos are registered trademarks of Gaia Girls LLC. www.gaiagirls.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  The lines from “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” by Lord Byron, “The Sea” by Bryan W. Procter, “The Tao Te Ching” by Lao Tzu, “Auguries of Innocence” by William Blake, and “The Forsaken Merman” by Matthew Arnold are from The Book of Waves, text copyright © Drew Kampion, published by Roberts Rinehart Publishers, Niwot, Colorado. The lines from “Young Sea” by Carl Sandburg are from Chicago Poems unabridged by Carl Sandburg, copyright © Dover Publications, Inc., Toronto, Ontario.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of Chelsea Green Publishing.

  Our Commitment to Green Publishing

  Chelsea Green sees publishing as a tool for cultural change and ecological stewardship. We strive to align our book manufacturing practices with our editorial mission, and to reduce the impact of our business enterprise on the environment. We print our books and catalogs on chlorine-free recycled paper, using soy-based inks, whenever possible. This book may cost slightly more because we use recycled paper, and we hope you’ll agree that it’s worth it. Chelsea Green is a member of the Green Press Initiative (www.greenpressinitiative.org), a nonprofit coalition of publishers, manufacturers, and authors working to protect the world’s endangered forests and conserve natural resources.

  Gaia Girls: Way of Water was printed on 55# Rolland Enviro Natural 100, a 100-percent postconsumer-waste recycled, old-growth-forest–free paper supplied by Thomson-Shore, Inc.

  Previously published by Daisyworld Press.

  First Chelsea Green Publishing printing May, 2007.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 08 09 10 11

  e-Book ISBN: 978-1-603581-37-0

  ISBN: 978-1-933609-03-4 (pbk.)

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file.

  Chelsea Green Publishing Company

  P.O. Box 428

  White River Junction, VT 05001

  (802) 295-6300

  www.chelseagreen.com

  -For My Mother-

  You did what all great mothers do: told me I could do it…over and over.

  You also did what a lot of mothers wouldn’t do: slash and hack at early drafts with a red pen!

  It is because of you I love books. It is because of you I love Gaia. Therefore, it is because of you this book exists—I love you!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  In this story, the main character often finds herself with no choice but to move forward through her own fear. I think this reflects how I felt as I began writing the second book in the Gaia Girls Book Series. I had no choice but to write it. After all, it wouldn’t be a series if it were just one book! I have had so much positive feedback for Gaia Girls Enter the Earth; I worried intensely that I couldn’t match it.

  Therefore, I want to begin my acknowledgements with the people who eased the fear and kept kicking me in the butt to, “write it already!” First and foremost—my champion, partner, cheerleader and harshest critic…my hubby; he knows what kids like and won’t let me get away with going under the bar!

  I want to thank some people who kept me connected to the water: Gil and Harriet Sweet, who generously opened their lake house to me. There is a lot of Keuka Lake winking out of these pages. Melissa Williamson, a great friend and fellow lover of water—thank you for time on Seneca Lake, laughing with the whale song, and your unbridled enthusiasm for the work!

  Thank you to Carol Coogan, an intrepid and talented illustrator. The re-writing I did after talking with you was like tucking in my shirttails and losing the extra jewelry; the story became much neater and more pulled together.

  Many thanks to Sharon Nakazato of the Yasuragi Center—our conversations inspired some interesting additions to the story, and she was tireless in answering my questions about Japan, the language, and Shodo. I discovered that Japanese culture is much like the ocean itself; when you look at it from the outside, you are only seeing a tiny bit.

  To Ann
Hameister, your attention to detail for the cover and long view of the series is deeply appreciated!!!

  Thank you to Ted Hayden, English Teacher at Prattsburgh Central School. While your feedback was valued, your eye for errors and typos was invaluable!

  I would like to thank my nephew Nicholas who prodded the first sentence out of me—because the first sentence is the one that starts the ball rolling! To my niece Ava, a real Gaia Girl, you never cease to amaze and inspire me with your imagination. The “original” Gaia Girls Way of Water cover is still on my refrigerator and will be cherished forever.

  CONTENTS

  1 - Winging West

  2 - In the Dream

  3 - Stolen Property

  4 - Gaijin-ko

  5 - Riptide

  6 - Oji-SAN!

  7 - So American

  8 - Tomorrow We Go

  9 - Goza

  10 - You Ama

  11 - I Am Gaia

  12 - O-bon

  13 - Enso

  14 - Why Why Why

  15 - Listen

  16 - Heart of Japan

  17 - Sho-do

  18 - Eternity

  19 - Teachers Are Everywhere

  20 - Lagenorhynchus obliquidens

  21 - Mujo-kan

  22 - Baka-da!

  23 - Rising Storm

  24 - Like Ama

  25 - Kimo

  26 - Hurry

  27 - Shinju

  28 - Gaijin Green

  29 - Curly, Larry & Moe

  30 - Call Me

  31 - Nice Speech

  32 - Deal

  33 - Futo

  34 - Orphans

  35 - No Why!

  36 - The Whole Story

  37 - Oikomi

  38 - Gaia Girl

  39 - Leviathan

  40 - Ping

  41 - Crushing Cold

  42 - Gaia Chica

  43 - Be Brave

  44 - Three Names

  45 - Yabai!

  46 - Hokusai Surprise

  47 - The Test

  48 - Mama

  49 - Taiji

  50 - Wakarimashtaka?

  Author’s Thoughts

  Acknowledgement of Poetry

  Eco Audit

  Japanese Glossary

  Book Club Discussion Questions

  Hidden Pictures & Secret Codes

  Seas the Day™ - Take the Seven C’s Pledge

  Gaia Games

  1

  Winging West

  Miho sat on the plane and thought of the shark. She leaned her head against the thick, double-paned glass and let her gaze travel 30,000 feet down to the ocean below.

  He could be down there now, she thought.

  Then she chided herself. The big, jumbo jet that was winging her across the Pacific Ocean was, most likely, already five thousand miles away from the Mexican bay where the beefy bull shark had tried to take a taste of her.

  She rubbed the knuckles of her right hand with her left thumb. On the back of her right hand, a whisper of scar swept out from the knuckles. If she turned her right hand sideways, as if she were trying to look at a watch, the streaks of scar were in the shape of a cresting wave.

  Miho closed her eyes and continued to rub her thumb over the skin that was ever so slightly raised. She remembered the day she got the scar. She had been snorkeling while her parents ate their lunch on the boat. She was about 15 feet down and following a small rainbow wrasse around a ledge of coral. The sunlight above dappled the reef and made the colors shine. Healthy coral reefs are magical places.

  A reef is a riot of color and life. The coral itself is a wild thing; it is both plant and animal and, in some ways, mineral. The living coral builds itself on the bones of old coral. The resulting kingdoms have many rooms. Fan coral lends a fragile beauty while the brain coral is round with winding curls that actually look a lot like a human brain!

  The peaks and valleys of a reef are home to a crazy array of life. Parrotfish, damselfish and angelfish bring such color and flash it reminds one of a summer festival. Small fish dart in and out of the shadows and larger fish linger along the edges, waiting for an inattentive small fish to become its next meal. Spiny urchins look like walking shadows and if one were lucky enough, a lion fish, sea turtle or ray could swoop in to dazzle the eyes.

  Some kids might be bored to have to go to work with their parents, but Miho was very fortunate. The sea was her parents’ office and understanding it, their work. More specifically, as her mother put it, “the minds in the water.” Miho was always happy to don a mask and snorkel and go explore. She was never bored.

  It was while she was exploring that she had rounded a spire of coral and found herself nose to nose with a shark! The bull shark had been cruising the ledge where the coral dropped away into a dark and cold trench.They both had been surprised. Miho had been so surprised she had yelled and lost the air she had been holding.

  She began to kick to the surface, hoping her air would hold out. She surfaced with a gasp and then began yelling toward the boat, “Shark! There’s a shark!” She started to swim hard toward the boat. The fear in her body filled her with a cold that balled up in her neck and back.

  Her father was at the rail, already unhooking the lifesaver, preparing to throw it out to her. “Swim, Miho!” he had yelled. “Swim hard!”

  The cold ball of fear in her neck seeped into her arms, making them move slower than she wanted. But she continued to kick her feet, pull with her arms, and keep her eyes riveted to the floating ring. She finally grabbed on.

  Her father pulled the rope of the lifesaver ring. He pulled, hand-over-hand, his face bunched up in concentration. Miho’s cold fear had just begun to warm when she saw her father’s face go white and his eyes go wide.

  “Miho! Face him! Turn and face him!”

  Miho turned and looked into the bright blue water below. The bull shark was coming at her like a speeding car! Miho yanked her legs up tight beneath her, curled her hand into a fist and directed the remaining cold fear down her arm. She pulled her fist back and punched that shark right in the nose! Her hand skidded across the shark’s rough skin and starbursts of pain flashed. The shark turned sharply and dove.

  Her father was still pulling her toward the boat. She stayed curled up tight, practically on top of the lifesaver ring, not daring to let her feet dangle back into the water. Once onboard, she saw her hand. The back of it was scraped raw and bleeding from a scattering of cuts.

  Miho’s bones shook. She couldn’t stop her jaw from chattering as her mother dressed her wound and her father rushed the boat to shore.

  “You were very brave, Miho,” her mother had said, as she swabbed Miho’s hand. Her mother’s voice had been steady, but her hand shook almost as much as Miho’s bones.

  Miho nodded and gritted her teeth against the hot burn of rubbing alcohol. She didn’t feel brave. She felt small. She was shivering, in part, because she now knew she was a tiny little drop of person in the great vastness of the ocean.

  The wrasse was still going about its own little rainbow wrasse life, unaware that Miho had ever cared for it. The bull shark was going about his own bull shark business, unaware that he had given Miho a moment she would never forget.

  “You know, that shark didn’t know you were a little girl,” her mother continued. “They don’t see very well. You ran away and he was sure you were a tasty harbor seal.” She had given a little laugh and winked at Miho. “But…seals don’t punch like little girls! You were very brave.”

  Her mother stepped back and looked Miho in the eye. “Remember Miho, nothing in the sea wants to hurt you. The sea follows its own rules. You acted like prey, so the shark acted like a predator. Learn to be part of those rules; be one with the sea.”

  Now, two years later and a thousand miles away, Miho sat on the plane and, as she rubbed her hand, felt almost thankful that the shark had left her with this memory. Miho dove back into that memory, into that place where she could still hear her mother’s voice t
he day they had unwound the bandage from her hand.

  “Ah, Miho!” her mother had said, her voice filled with delight. “Miho. Miho. This is you! In Japanese, ‘Miho’ means ‘beauty in the crest of a wave.’” Her mother’s finger had traced the line of the abrasion and showed her the wave shape, a great arch that spread into little curling fingers which seemed to be reaching or grasping at something.

  The next day, Miho’s mother had brought home a present wrapped in a long tube shape. When Miho had opened it and unrolled the print, she gasped. It was the most beautiful image of a great cresting wave.

  Like the developing scar on her hand, the blue wave arched into many white, curling, grasping fingers. In the background, seen through the trough of the wave, was a snow-capped peak. The image was so striking, Miho could almost smell the salty air.

  “This is Hokusai,” her mother’s soft voice had said. Miho loved the way her mother’s voice seemed to speed up a little when she used Japanese words. “Hokusai made hundreds of pictures with Mt. Fuji,” she pointed to the snow-capped peak. “Hokusai is a very famous Japanese artist. Although, when he made this ‘Great Wave,’ it was looked on as more European than Japanese.”

  “Why?” asked a young Miho.

  “At the time he made this woodprint, no Japanese artist would show a fisherman or a distant mountain.” Her cheeks dimpled with a little smirk, “But now, this print is seen by the world as very Japanese!”

  Miho had tacked up the print on the corkboard wall at the foot of her bed and then watched as the red, angry abrasion the shark had given her, slowly became her own personal Hokusai wave.

  Now, so much time later, Miho sat on the plane, thought of the shark and dwelled on that day. The plane was heading west—they were chasing the setting sun. She gazed down at the sparks of sunlight bouncing off the peaks of deep ocean waves. The light of the reflected sun winked up at her, like stars.

  Miho had been told, and always believed, there was magic in the tips of waves. This place, which only existed for a moment, was where air and sun and water came together to present something of such golden magnificence, that any one person only had a half-second to behold it.