Chasing the Milky Way (15 page)

I
RUN AND RUN AND RUN.
The blue and white flashing lights rush like a flood behind us. The only path I follow is one marked by shadows. I dodge up a sidewalk, Izzy feeling so much bigger than she used to be. At the corner of Ocean and Birch, we duck down a side street and Izzy slides off my back. We run away from the ocean, toward a wooded park. I pull the gate open. A plaque says
S
EAHOOK
G
ARDEN
C
LUB
.
Just inside is a little shed. I grab the lock. It comes loose in my hand and I pull it off. Izzy ducks in and I set PingPing down. I inhale deeply, wipe my forehead, try to clear my eyes. Try to clear my mind. I take three fast breaths. It smells like flowers and soil in here. I pull over a bag of mulch and try to fluff it like a pillow. I set Izzy down so she is lying with her head on it. And I hear the sirens off in the distance. I picture them taking Mama. I picture Cam turning away. I picture me shouting. I grab the hair on both sides of my head, sink down, and try to reason this out.

“Lucy?” Izzy says, leaning into me. I feel her small fingers trying to wrap around mine. But I'm holding on to my hair too tight. “Lucy, are we going to be okay?” she asks. I tell myself to suck it up. I take a big swallow and grasp her fingers.

“Time for bed,” I say, wiping my face. I lie down with my head on the mulch bag and Izzy tucks in to me. She shakes in my arms and I squeeze her tight. Trying to get her to calm down, too. We're better off on our own. We're better off now than we ever were. That's what I tell myself.

“Are you afraid, Queen Nomony?” I whisper, rubbing her arm.

“I wanna go ho-ome,” she says with a hiccup.

I wrap my arm around her and press my cheek to her cheek. “I know. Do you want to hear about the time Juniper Ray and Mighty Hawk faced down the evil Bachmans?”

Izzy shakes her head. “No.”

“How about the time Juniper Ray and Mighty Hawk caught the Swampvonk? Or maybe the time Queen Nomony saved the Tinktree people?”

“No,” Izzy says. “I just wanna go home.”

I tuck her hair back so it's not making a wet mat between our cheeks. “Well, first things first,” I say, trying to make my voice steady and strong. “You need rest for the journey. Three deep breaths.”

We take one breath in together. Then another.

“Last one,” I say, and I feel her belly expand and then deflate. “That a girl.”

We do that five more times. In and out. Each one a little longer than the last. And after an eternity, the shuddering stops and Izzy falls asleep. But not me. As much as I close my eyes, I got a battery full of juice and I don't think I'll ever power down. I think about the mission. I replay the argument with Mama over and over again. I send Gram a faraway hug and tell her I wish she were here to help sort this out. To help take care of everything. I tell her a million times I'm sorry we let her down and that it was Mama getting in the way of everything as usual. Then I hit the ground with my fist, fed up with everyone, including myself. I count to one hundred in my head, trying to force myself to sleep. I count to two hundred, picturing the numbers on the backs of my eyelids. I pretend I can hear Mr. Blinks's banjo strings plucking out a lullaby. But nothing works. The peepers outside are too loud. The ocean roars in the distance. Cars drive by and the headlights wash the walls with sparks of light. I can't get my head to stop talking. Are they coming for us? What are we going to do now? What will they do to Mama? What will Cam do? I sit up and stare at the wheel of a lawnmower, and I wonder where he is. I shouldn't have sent him away. Why did I have to get so hotheaded?

If we're all on the run, we might as well be on the run together, but I screwed that up, too.

Izzy rolls over, hitting me with her leg. Something jabs my hip. I think she's got her crown in her pocket, but then I see it's on her head. She shifts again and I get another jab to the side. I reach down, and my hand lands on the top of the walkie-talkie. I yank it off my pants, and as I do, I accidentally press the button. The sound of static crackles through the shed. I dial the volume down low. I check Izzy. She moves her head a little, but stays asleep.

I turn the knob on the top of the walkie-talkie the teensiest bit and put my mouth up to it. I squeeze the talk button ever so lightly, hoping to heck that Cam still has his.

“Mighty Hawk, this is Juniper Ray,” I say quietly. “Do you copy?”

I let go of the button, move so I am sitting on top of the bag of soil. I lean up against the wall of the shed and hold the walkie next to my ear. Nothing but fuzz.

“Mighty Hawk,” I say, wiping my nose. My voice drops to normal. “Yeah, uh, Cam, this is Lucy. I'm sorry. I-I hope you're—where are you?”

My hand releases the button and I take a deep breath in. A breath that seems to shake the whole shed. I wait for a response. Wait and hope. Wait some more. When no response comes, I squeeze the button one last time.

“I'm—I'm sorry. Over and out.”

The silence wraps around me. In the dark of the shed, with not a friend in the universe, the tears chase each other down my face like rovers over the surface of the moon. I rock my head against the wall, feeling the grain of the wood roll against the back of my skull. No, no, no. Over and over again. No, no, no. I close my eyes and try to will the walkie to life. But the silence coming out of it is the kind you'd expect at the edge of the universe. I look at PingPing, a round lump in the corner.

“We gave it our best,” I say. I set the walkie down next to me and stare up at the ceiling. “We just weren't good enough—” The walkie crackles to life, just as I am thinking this is typical. I grab it and pull it to my ear.

“Lucy, where are you? It's Cam.”

I press the button, jumping up to my knees. “Cam, you okay?” I whisper.

“I'm okay,” he says. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we're three blocks from downtown. In some garden club shed. Where are you?”

“Somewhere on the beach.”

I get up and step over to the door. “Can you head out of town?” I close my eyes, imagining the best way to describe where we are. In all our visits to Seahook, we've only come to the garden club once. “You know where we stopped?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Go up toward the Dunkin' Donuts and then take a right on Main and head out of town.”

“The cops are sweeping at the center.”
Ppshhhhh.
“But I think I can skirt around. I'll see you soon.”
Ppshhhhhh.

“You should see the gate. Then come to the back of the flower garden,” I say, hoping I'm still coming through clear. “It's labeled.”

“I'll be”
pssshhhh
“-ere,” he says.

I get up and start pacing, checking the park every time I pass the door. I count to sixty, ten times, and then see a shadow flit by the pond. I inch the door open. Something dodges behind a tree, then rolls, then a second later, Cam is standing there in front of me. He rushes in.

“I'm sorry,” I say real quiet, wrapping him in a hug. He squeezes me tight.

“I'm sorry, too,” he says. “I'm sorry I lost the money.”

“It wasn't your fault. It's hard to stop Mama when she makes up her mind about something.”

“Maybe,” he says, pulling back. “Either way, it's gone.”

“And we're here,” I say.

He looks down and spots Izzy on the ground and I see him scan the rest of the shed. Over the gardening equipment and the lawn mower. We sit down against a few bags of mulch. I scoop Izzy up and pull her in toward me.

“Camrin here?” she asks, waking halfway.

“Right here,” he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. I wrap my arm around the other side of Izzy, so we're holding her in the middle. And we close our eyes and, finally, fall into a fitful sleep.

BEEP-BEEP BEEP-BEEP.
I
START AWAKE. LIFTING
my face off my arm. The first thing I notice is that I can feel my heart. I can feel it weighing heavy in every part of my body, like I went to sleep a human and woke up an open nerve. It hurts to blink, but I force my eyes open and closed, cracking the dust from my eyelashes.

Beep-beep beep-beep.
I reach toward the sound. My watch. It's nine o'clock. T-minus—I squeeze the buttons hard and shut it up. It pinches my skin as I press down, and I take the strap, pull it loose, and toss it into the corner. Who needs it when I got nowhere to go, anyway?

I look up to see Izzy staring at me. With the sun streaking in through the sideboards, her ratty hair is making a halo around her head. There are purple marks under her eyes, like she's been in a fight with the sandman. Her face is smudged with dirt trails, too. I wipe at her cheek, but it smudges the dirt across it, leaving a dark smear toward the bridge of her nose.

“How you doing, Queen Nomony?” I say.

She tries for a smile, but looks away. Cam gets up and stretches. Then slumps back into the mulch as he looks around the shed, remembering where we are.

“Mighty Hawk, I've assessed the situation,” I say. Cam raises his eyebrows. “It is dire.”

The silence that follows is enough to tell me that they both agree. I hear the waves and the sound of BotBlock starting. Loudspeakers, the humming of happy people, the savory grease-soaked smells of the food tent off in the distance. My stomach growls. I turn my head and put my eyes up to the slit between the boards. It's quiet here. A few bumblebees flit around a bed of yellow flowers and out over a koi pond. I stare at all the colors.

“I have to go potty,” Izzy says.

“Okay,” I say, making myself get up.

“You think it's safe going out there?” Cam says.

I step toward him, offering my hand. He grabs it and hops up.

“Probably not,” I say as we release. “But we can't stay in here all day. If we're caught in here, it's obvious who we are. If we're blending in with a bunch of other kids”—I look out toward the direction of the din—“maybe not so obvious?”

“And since we have a robot.” Cam goes to PingPing, unwraps the remote control from his neck, and hands it to me.

“Right,” I say, taking the controller. “We have a good chance of blending in, for a little while.”

Cam turns PingPing on and I flip the little switch on the RC. Lights blink.
Wuw-whir, wuw-whir.

“Morning, buddy,” I say, steering him to me.

Cam goes over to the door and opens it a crack. Izzy finds her way to him. “We got picnic tables and koi ponds to the starboard side,” Cam says.

I string the remote control lanyard around my neck, then look out between the slats on my side. “Just flowers over here.”

We pile up at the door and I see Izzy is starting to get the wiggles. She really has to go. “Can you hold it five minutes? Long enough for us to get down to BotBlock?”

“I think so,” Izzy says. Her knees start to jump.

“That a girl,” I say, putting my hand on her back.

Cam slides the door open. The sunlight beams in, leaving a golden trail across the shed. He sticks his head out and looks both ways. Then he nods and we duck out behind him. I steer PingPing so he's bopping along next to us. And I can't help but notice, he's running pretty good. Faring better than the rest of us on this adventure. That's for sure. We go to the gate and slip through. I steer PingPing down the sidewalk.

“Act casual,” I say.

Izzy skip-steps so she doesn't land on a crack in the sidewalk. Cam pushes his hands into his pockets, and I lead us the busiest way back into town, hoping to get wrapped up in a crowd. We take a right onto Main Street and walk, past cafés, clothing stores, tourists, and candy shops. And when we turn onto Ocean Avenue, the green and the beach come into view. The RV is gone. Nothing looks unsettled. Kids line up at the registration tables and everything goes on as it should.

“This way,” I say, ducking into the middle of the green, between a swarm of kids doing a test run. I scan the field and spot the Porta-Potties. Izzy spots them, too, and breaks into a run. Cam, PingPing, and I hurry after her. They're all lined up in a row. Most say
vacant
in green on the knob. I let the RC swing around my neck and open the first one for her. She dives in.

“I'll wait for you right here,” I say. “Let me know if you need anything.”

She closes the door behind her and Cam goes into the one next to it. I lean against the corner and keep a lookout.

“Blake, stand in front of that tree there,” a lady with curly red hair says. A boy with the same curly red hair rolls his eyes but he steps toward the tree, just like she asks. His dad brings his robot over to him and sets it down by his side. I've never seen so many smiles. The mom and dad have these huge grins on their fat faces. Their teeth shine in the sun. The boy looks a little annoyed, but I know deep down, he's going to remember this day for the rest of his life. And I half laugh because it's funny, sitting here watching this, that at one time, I thought I could have any part of it. I check the field, seeing if I can spot the junkbot competition, but there are too many kids, seas of heads and shoulders blocking my view of the arenas.

A breeze blows, carrying the smell of sausage, peppers, and onions across the green. My stomach growls again, reminding me that the chili was too long ago. I scan to the left and spot the food tent. I can see the back of three big metal carts. We have fifty dollars. That's good for more than one meal. More than enough for lunch. Dinner, too. Then, who knows what.

The door opens and Izzy steps out.

“You wash your hands?” I say.

“Tantarizer,” she says, rubbing her hands together.

“Yes, sanitizer,” I say, wondering why she can never get that word.

Cam steps out a moment later. “I'll hang with Izzy,” he says. I unloop the remote control from my neck. Hand it over and go in the first Porta-Potty. Before I close the door, I notice a kid walk by and point at Izzy. I swallow hard. Her hair has been collecting knots and dust since we started.

“Cam,” I hiss, hanging off the door.

He turns. “Can you, maybe pull her hair into a ponytail or something?”

“Got it, Cap'n,” Cam says. He gives me an A-OK sign.

I go in and close the door. As I'm trying not to let the backs of my legs touch the Porta-Potty seat, I spot myself in the dingy mirror. I see my hair is a complete mess, too. Between the rain and the dust, I seem to have a cloud around me. I rub a smudge on my collar, and somehow it seems to get darker the longer I try to get it off. I finish up and squirt some of the hand sanitizer into my palm, rub it around, and then wipe my hands off with a paper towel. Then I put a little hand sanitizer on the towel and smear it across my face. It feels all wet and gushy as it hits my cheek, but I rub until the dirt is gone. I wipe around my eyes and along the bridge of my nose. I can't help but make a face as the slimy liquid squishes toward my hairline. Bleh. I rub the rest into my hands and then pull back the pieces of hair around my face. I pull the band out of my hair and work the pieces back up into a ponytail.

“Is that your robot?” I hear muffled voices through the door and twist the tie back around my hair as quickly as I can.

“Yep,” Cam says.

“Look at that piece of junk,” another kid says. The hair tie snaps against my finger and I stop and strain to listen as their voices get quiet.

“Delusional,” I hear them say as they pass close to the vent. The word rings in my ears. I open the door fast.

Cam's nostrils are flaring. He's holding Izzy's hair up in a point and he's glaring them down as they walk away.

My face is on fire and I feel like my heart is splaying open on its hinges.

“Idiots,” Cam says, going back to twisting the rubber band around the base of Izzy's ponytail.

“Yeah,” I say, stepping out of the bathroom. “Idiots.”

“Idiots,” Izzy yells. Cam twirls the rubber band for the last time and looks up at the sky, shaking his head. I can't help but laugh. I try to cover it up so Izzy knows I don't approve, but it feels good to giggle for a minute.

“What do you think?” Cam asks, pointing Izzy toward me. Her hair is a big mess, but at least now it is looking a little bit more curly and a little bit less like there is a family of rats living in it.

“Perfect. You hungry?” I nod toward the food tent.

“I am.” Izzy's hand shoots into the air.

“Starved,” Cam says.

We follow our noses around the perimeter and find some grub.