Going Wild (22 page)

T
he news segment about the mysterious youth who rescued two people from a fire ended. Charlie, Maria, and Mac stared at the iPad for a long moment.

“Oh no,” Charlie whispered. Tears welled up in her eyes. She looked at Maria. “People are going to find out.”

“Yeah, they might,” said Mac, “though it's hard to tell it's you with that cloth over your face.” He turned in the chair. “Would it be such a bad thing, though?”

“Yes!” cried Charlie. “Can you imagine the kids at school if word gets out? I don't want them coming up to me and asking me to carry them around or climb walls like I'm some circus performer. And what about the next time something goes wrong around town—are people going to expect me to show up and save the day? What happens if I'm taking a test or playing in a soccer game and I don't go?”

She sniffed and went on in a quiet voice, “I just started feeling like I belong here, and I like it that way. I don't want to stand out or have people talk about me behind my back or think I'm some sort of freak. I want to have a normal life. Besides,” she said, looking at
the news report, “I haven't told my parents anything about this. If they find out, they might cut the bracelet off, and it'll be ruined.”

Mac saw Charlie's face and quickly looked away. “Yeah, okay, I get it. My parents would kill me if they discovered something like that about me on the news. Like I said, maybe nobody will be able to tell it's you.”

They watched the footage again.

“No way people will be able to tell,” Maria said decisively. “The shot is too far away. I think you're okay, Charlie.”

“Can you refresh the page?” Charlie urged Mac. “Go to the bottom.”

Mac did as she asked and scrolled down to the comments section.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked, alarmed.

“We need to check the comments,” said Charlie, taking a determined breath and wiping away a tear. She leaned over Mac's shoulder.

“Why—you're not going to write one, are you?” asked Maria.

“Of course not,” said Charlie. “But people are going to start trying to guess who the mysterious hero is. And we need to figure out if anybody recognized me, or you guys for that matter. You're in the clip, too, at the end—just the backs of your heads, thankfully. But Mac's Afro is pretty distinguishable.”

“The footage is grainy,” Mac said. “I don't think anybody will be able to tell. Even the still frame they blew up doesn't show your
face. And if somebody notices Maria and me, we'll just say we have no idea who that person is.”

“All right,” Charlie said dubiously. “Maybe nobody seeing it on TV will recognize me, but what about the people who were actually at the scene? Was anybody there from school? I didn't exactly have a chance to look. Plus . . . ugh.” She pounded her fist against her head.

“What's wrong?” asked Maria.

“That paramedic—I told her my first name. Stupid! What if that news guy tracked her down and she told him? Or what if she tells somebody at the ER, and my mom finds out? There's not a lot of girls named Charlie out there.” Charlie got up and started pacing anxiously from the end of Maria's bed to the door and back again. “What am I going to do?” She looked up and wrinkled her nose, then took a swath of hair and sniffed it. “Oh my grossness! My hair smells like smoke. I can't go home like this!” She snatched up the plastic bag that held her filthy clothes and looked down at the clothes Maria had lent her. “May I take a shower?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Maria. “Use whatever you need in there.”

“Thanks.” Charlie thrust the bag at her. “And can you please get rid of these clothes? Throw them away—I don't care. They're ruined anyway.”

“You got it,” said Maria, taking the bag. “We'll take care of it.”

Charlie bolted into the bathroom.

Maria and Mac sneaked out through the back door so Maria's
parents wouldn't see them and took Charlie's ruined clothes out to the garbage can by the shed.

“Hiding evidence—it's like we're in the movies,” Maria said.

“Only real,” said Mac.

“What if the police come and look through the trash and find her clothes?” asked Maria.

Mac narrowed his eyes. “Why would the police come? And even if they did, it's not like Charlie did anything wrong. They'd probably give her a medal of honor or something.”

Maria nodded, relieved. “Right. I forgot. We're not hiding evidence. We're the good guys.”

“As far as I know, we're just throwing away really smelly, burned clothes,” said Mac.

They went back inside, and Mac began monitoring the activity on the piece of news and looking for more.

Charlie came out of the bathroom clean, calm, and with a plan. “I need to establish an alibi,” she said.

“Good idea,” said Maria.

“Can I eat dinner here?”

“Sure.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “Don't you have to ask?”

“Nah. They make enough food for the whole neighborhood.”

“Bonus,” said Charlie. She was really getting hungry after exerting so much energy. She texted her father to say soccer practice had gone well, and she was doing homework and eating dinner
at Maria's. “I'll be home by nine,” she told him. She looked up from her phone. “I hope he's too busy to watch the news tonight.”

“It won't matter anyway,” Maria reminded her. “It's impossible to tell who you are. Especially with half a T-shirt over your face. It's going to be okay.”

Charlie took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah,” she said. “You're right.” She ran her fingers through her damp hair and gave the two a shaky smile. “Okay. Well, I'm sort of starving, and something smells amazing, so . . .”

Maria smiled and pointed the way to the kitchen. “You came to the right place.”

“No lie,” Mac said, plugging his phone into his iPad to sync and charge during dinner. “Maria's kitchen is like the best Puerto Rican restaurant in town.” He snaked past the girls and led the way as a commotion of boys and dogs sounded from the front entryway. Maria's stepbrothers were home.

The whole family plus Mac and Charlie squeezed around the table to
bistec encebollado
and
tostones
: thin slices of steak with onions in a savory broth served over rice, with crispy fried plantains.

“You can just call it beefsteak if you can't remember the name,” Mac said to Charlie. “That's what I call it.”

The family and guests laughed and talked and ate for almost an hour—it was a far cry from Charlie's recent cereal dinner with Andy. For a little while Charlie almost forgot about her troubles.

Mac offered to walk Charlie home in case any reporters had followed them and were lurking around in the shadows. And while Charlie thought that was really unlikely, she agreed that it might be a good idea, and she was grateful for the company in the dark. They cut through the school grounds, trying to avoid the sprinklers that had kicked on. They didn't notice the large white van pulling to the curb down the street.

Once they got farther away from the lights of the houses, Charlie began to glance this way and that. A shiver ran down her spine, and her heart started racing. She wasn't sure what she was scared of other than just being in the dark, but she gave some dog walkers nearby an extralong glance just in case. They went about their business, paying no attention to the two sixth graders.

Feeling an extra bit of warmth on her arm, Charlie pushed up her sleeve and flipped screens on the bracelet. The running cheetah was lit up in yellow, brown, and gold, and the healing starfish was sparkling pink. “Huh,” she said. “Two of them are on at the same time.”

“Did they just kick on?” asked Mac.

“The starfish has been on since the fire. My burns are almost gone. But the cheetah just came on, I think. I guess I'm a little nervous or something. The bracelet seems to be ready for me to run.”

“Maybe it's another glitch. Or it's just messing with you after
the day you had,” Mac said with a grin. But he glanced over his shoulder uneasily.

“Maybe,” said Charlie. She peered out beyond the lit path. More people were out walking their dogs or jogging in the mild evening. And there was some sort of event going on at the football stadium, so the night didn't seem especially dangerous. With the craziness of the afternoon, Charlie decided her senses were probably heightened due to that. Absolutely nothing happened.

Mac stopped with Charlie outside her house. “You good?”

“Yeah. Thanks for walking with me. I know it wasn't exactly on your way home.”

Mac made a peace sign. “It's cool. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

He grinned and started down the driveway.

Charlie crept inside and found her dad snoozing in his recliner in the living room. There were papers scattered over his stomach, and the TV was on, volume low. No news in sight. Charlie turned off the TV and squeezed his hand. “I'm home,” she whispered.

His eyes popped open. “I'm awake.”

Charlie smiled at him. “Sure. I know.”

He grinned sheepishly and looked at the papers, then began shuffling them into a pile. “Did you have a good day?”

Charlie laughed under her breath. “Yeah, Dad. It was a riot. Thanks for letting me stay late at Maria's. Mac walked home with me.”

“He seems like a nice kid.”

“Yeah. Is Mom still at work?”

“No, actually, she's sleeping. And we had real food for dinner. I saved you some if you're hungry.”

“Aw, real food?” Charlie said, feeling a pang of sadness, but she was stuffed. “And I missed it. I'm sorry.” Despite the excellent food at Maria's house, she really was sorry.

“It's okay. Mom and I will both be home for dinner tomorrow night, and Andy will be here too. How's that for the good old days?” He pushed his recliner to the sitting position, gathered his stack of papers, and stood up.

Charlie almost grew teary-eyed. “That's awesome, Dad. No class tomorrow night?”

“Nope. Canceled the whole day.”

“You can do that?”

“Not very often. But I did. Our family needs a time-out together. It's been a little hectic around here.”

“That's so cool,” Charlie said. “I'll come home right after my game. It's supposed to rain, so maybe it'll get canceled—they don't do anything in the rain here. A few sprinkles and they act like it's a blizzard or something.”

Dr. Wilde laughed. “I've noticed that. Let me know if it's canceled. Mom has to work until dinnertime, but I'll be in the stands if you're playing.”

Charlie put her arms around his middle and squeezed. He
patted her head like he used to when she was a little girl.

“I love you, Dad,” said Charlie.

“I love you too, little one.” He kissed her forehead and walked her to her bedroom. It was incredibly comforting for Charlie after everything that had happened that day. With her father home, all was safe and well in the world.

B
y morning Charlie didn't feel quite as worried about being discovered as she had felt the night before. Mac texted her early to report that the news outlets were still clueless about the identity of the mystery youth, so that made Charlie feel even better.

“I think Mystery Youth should be your superhero name,” Mac texted with a laughing emoji. “It's the worst.”

“My costume would have
MY
on the front,” replied Charlie, and for some reason that sent her into a fit of giggles as she went into school to look for her friends.

The day opened with a steady rain that lasted until early afternoon, and even though the sun came out again around three o'clock, Coach Candy announced over the intercom that the game was canceled because the field looked like a small lake.

“It didn't even rain very hard!” Charlie exclaimed when she met up with Maria after school at the outdoor lockers. “Back in Chicago we would have played through it.” She pulled out her phone to text her dad about the canceled game.

“Here in the desert,” Maria said, “the ground is rock and clay, so it can't absorb the rainfall. Have you seen the washes?”

Charlie sent the text and looked up. “The what?”

“Washes. They're like little dips in the road.”

“Oh yeah. They make your stomach feel weird if your car rides over one when you're not paying attention.” She grabbed the books she needed and started organizing her backpack.

Maria nodded. “Those are put there on purpose so the water has a place to travel and cross the road when it comes off the mountains. So you don't want to ride your bike over them when there's standing water—they're deep! And you never know what kinds of branches and rocks end up hidden under the surface.”

“How do you know all of that—about the washes and the rain coming off the mountains, I mean?”

“My mom used to work on a road crew back when it was just her and me,” said Maria. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth and offered one to Charlie as the two stopped in the office for Maria to drop off something. “Wanna come to my house for a while?” Maria asked. “Mac's probably hanging out there until I get home.” She leaned in and whispered, “Maybe we can test out your new abilities.” She texted Mac that the game was canceled, and she and Charlie were on their way to her house.

“Can't I have a day off?” Charlie complained. She checked her text messages.

“I suppose we could give you one day,” said Maria. She pointed at Charlie's phone. “It's amazing that thing still works. Your broken screen is getting worse.”

“I know.” There was no reply from her dad, but he wasn't expecting her home until dinner anyway. Maybe he was cooking and not able to reply with his hands busy. She sent him a second text message about going to Maria's house for a bit but assuring him she'd be home in time for their family dinner.

Maria looked closer. “And what's that blob of plastic on the corner? Did your case
melt
?”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, part of it melted in the fire.” She slid the phone carefully into her pocket. “I'm not quite sure how to explain that to my parents, so I'm just hiding it for now.”

They went outside, where the air was humid for the first time Charlie could remember. Puddles lined the sidewalks. As they stepped over them, Kelly rounded the corner of the building.

Maria glanced at her. “Hey, Kel. Heading our way?”

Charlie had forgotten that Maria and Kelly were neighbors.

“Yeah. I'm in a hurry though, so . . .” Kelly picked up her pace and started down the sidewalk in front of Charlie and Maria.

Maria kicked a rock into a puddle. “Catch you later,
chica
.”

Kelly waved halfheartedly over her shoulder and sped off ahead of them.

Charlie and Maria walked leisurely down the path toward Maria's neighborhood. It had turned into a beautiful spring day and was warming up rapidly. “It's so nice out,” Charlie said. “When it rains here, it's like the clouds come in, get their raining over with, and then leave.” She took off her sweatshirt and tied it
around her waist. “Chicago can be cloudy and rainy for days and days at a time.”

“You like this weather now—but just wait until summer,” Maria said. “A hundred and fifteen degrees is really stinking hot.”

Charlie grinned. She'd heard variations of this ominous warning from everybody she'd met since they'd moved here—it was like the Arizona theme song or something. “So what do you do in the summer?” she asked. “Stay inside all the time?” The idea sounded foreign to her. Summer in Chicago was hot, but it sure beat winter. She and Andy had gone to the pool at the community center a lot, and to the Y. They walked downtown, listened to the street performers, took Jessie to play Frisbee on the beach by Lake Michigan, visited the shops at Navy Pier, and sometimes rode the Ferris wheel if they had spending money.

“Yeah,” Maria said. She kicked a stone into a puddle. “We stay inside a lot, or go to the movies if we can get a ride. We'd swim if we had a pool. We have lots of neighbors with pools, though— Hey, what the heck!” Maria stopped abruptly, staring ahead of them at something moving amid a grouping of saguaro cacti in front of a church. “Is it Comicon weekend or something?”

“What?” Charlie stopped too, and looked up to see three figures emerging from behind the cacti. They were dressed in black head-to-toe bodysuits, with big blackout goggles over their eyes. Charlie's heart thudded. They were coming directly toward her and Maria.