Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green (20 page)

How in God’s name do you expect. One of Dad’s most used phrases.

“If you really do know what’s going on,” Dad says quietly, “then
you know what’s at stake. I’ve already made a few mistakes and I can’t afford to make any more. You girls and your mother have got to get out of here.”

Right then something clicks for me, something I didn’t realize until this exact instant that suddenly seems miraculously, positively obvious.

“La Lava is spying on our house in Denver!” I cry out.

Of course! What else would have caused The Creepies, Mom’s suspicion that the phone was being tapped, the feeling of eyes at the windows?

Dad’s face falls, and for the first time ever in my entire life he seems old to me. “So it’s true,” he whispers. He gazes upward, takes a deep breath, and then looks back down at us. “Be that as it may,” he says, “you’re safer in the U.S. It’s much harder for them to arrange a convenient accident there.”

For some reason, the calm, logical way Dad is talking about this makes the danger feel far more real. And now I am
scared
, scared in a whole new way, scared as I’ve never been scared.

“I won’t help you out of there until you promise to do as I say,” Dad says.

I don’t even stop to think,
Jeez, would our own father really leave us in this pit?
before the words rush out of my mouth: “Okay, okay, yes, totally, of course, we promise! We’ll be out of the country by tonight at the latest, I swear!” I even start to imagine it all: running down to the Selva Lodge, faking a mysterious headache or an intense pain where my appendix is, calling Mom to come back early from Relaxation and Dumbation, begging her to take me to our pediatrician, lots of tears and gagging, two planes and three airports later arriving home.…

“Do you promise?” Dad says firmly to Roo and Kyle, who nod
at him, wide-eyed and serious. “You all promise, one hundred percent?”

“We
promise
!” I say with great emotion.

“Don’t cry,” Dad instructs me, noticing that I’m close.

He throws a thick vine down to us. Roo shimmies up it first, then me, then Kyle. As soon as Dad gets all of us over the edge, Roo bumps up against him for a hug. Dad gives her the world’s shortest hug before letting go.

“Go now!” he yells under his breath. “Fast! Go!
Now!
”

I want to hug Dad too. I want to say goodbye. Who knows when we’ll see him again.

But he wants us to go. So we go. Kyle leads the way, and next comes Roo, and then me. When I turn to get one last look at Dad, he’s already disappeared. And since he’s not around to see me do it, I decide I’m allowed to cry.

For a while we bushwhack in silence, moving as quickly as possible given all of the jungle’s hurdles. Once we’re back on Invisible Path, Kyle slows the pace and I start to catch my breath. Then he turns around to look at me and gives me the biggest, brightest smile ever. I had no idea he could smile like that. Wow.

“Great work back there, Mad,” he says. “You did a killer job.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Yeah,” Roo agrees. “You were awesome. Totally convincing. You almost convinced me!”

“Totally convincing?” I echo, confused.

“Your dad
definitely
believed you,” Kyle assures me.

“I didn’t know you could lie that well!” Roo says. She gives an impressed whistle.

Before I can say, “Um, hello, I wasn’t
lying
,” Kyle steps around
Roo and reaches back to grab my hand. His hand may have felt cold and wet and limp before, but now it feels warm and energetic and gives me this strong, thrilling squeeze that leaves me speechless.

“You’re the best, Mad, you know that?” he says.

“Yeah!” Roo pipes in. “The very, very best!”

And for a second it almost makes me forget that I really did want to go back to Denver and leave my dad at La Lava. Almost.

W
hen we step into the concrete courtyard of the Selva Lodge, it seems absolutely amazing to me that there are normal people here in the normal world, kids splashing in the pool and adults drinking colorful drinks with miniature umbrellas. But we don’t stick around to enjoy the vacationy feeling. We scoot across the courtyard to our room, rushing to get there before anyone notices that we’re covered in jungle slime. Roo has green and black smears of mud up and down her legs and a smudge across her forehead, and Kyle and I aren’t much better.

“Do we just call over to La Lava and ask for Mom?” I say to Roo and Kyle once I’ve locked the door behind us. No matter what those two think, I’m going to take Dad’s instructions seriously. “I know she wrote the number down somewhere.”

Roo giggles and plunks down on her bed. Kyle stares at me.

“Is she serious?” he asks Roo, leaning back against the wall.

“Yeah,” Roo says.

“We promised Dad we’d find Mom right away!” I say. “I promised
we’d be out of the country by tonight!” I don’t even care if Kyle hates me; I just want to do what Dad told us to do.

“Yeah,” Roo says, “but you were just saying that so he’d help us get out of the pit.”

“I was
not
!” I protest, furious. Roo knows I’m never dishonest like that.

“Yes you were,” Roo replies.

“No I
wasn’t
,” I say, realizing with a sinking feeling that there’s no way Roo and Kyle are going to follow my lead.

“Madeline,” Kyle says. It feels strange and somehow special to hear Kyle using my full name. “Sit down,” he orders, and, suddenly exhausted, I join Roo on the lower bunk. “Of course what your dad asked you to do makes sense. He’s worried about protecting you. But there are other lives to worry about too.”

“Oh yeah?” I say. “Last I checked you hadn’t received any freaky threats from anyone.”

“Not me,” Kyle says. “At least, probably not. But a species is in danger. And your dad is in danger.”

“See?” Roo yells in my ear. “We! Have! To! Do! Something!” She raises her hands high above her head and shakes them with every word.

Well, I’m sorry, I can’t really worry about birds—even almost-extinct birds—over my sister and my mom and myself.

But Dad. If Dad is in danger …

“How do you know Dad’s in danger?” I ask, though the second the words leave my mouth I realize it’s a dumb question.

Kyle doesn’t reply and Roo rolls her eyes.

“Okay,” I say. “Okay, so, La Lava is dangerous and Dad’s in danger. And we have no idea how long they’ll keep him or what they might do to him. Okay. So we can’t abandon him. But what
can
we do?”

Roo and Kyle look at each other.

“There is only one way to get the attention of an evil corporation,” Kyle says, and I think he’s trying to sound like a voice-over in a movie preview. “We must publicly out La Lava. We have to prove that while La Lava has been claiming to be the World’s Greenest Spa, it has in fact been hunting the World’s Rarest Bird.” Roo nods along, her eyes glowing.

“O-kay,” I say very slowly. “And we’ll do this
how
?”

“At the Gold Circle Investors’ Gala, of course!” Roo announces. The gala—man, I’ve been so distracted by everything else that I’d sort of forgotten about the gala. “We just have to capture
it
and bring
it
to the gala and prove to everyone that
it
’s not extinct and explain that they’ve been using
its
bones for their make-your-face-young creams!”

“Thus revealing to the world that La Lava has been keeping the Bird Guy hostage for his tracking skills by threatening his family,” Kyle says, his usually calm, cool face now intense with urgency. (
Wow
, I think,
he’s even using the word
thus.) “At which point La Lava will be forced by the international community to release your father and stop hunting the birds!”

“The international community?” I parrot, somewhat rudely, but I can’t help it—I’m nervous. I mean,
sure
, it all sounds great, but it also sounds impossible.

“Yep!” Roo answers for him.

“And we’re going to get this bird
where
?” I ask, annoyed by her perkiness. She acts like it’s the easiest thing in the world to locate a bird that’s practically extinct.

“No prob,” Roo chirps.

I really want to tell Roo to shut up, but in honor of Dad, instead I go: “So, Ruby Flynn Wade, you’re telling me you want to capture
a pretty-much-impossible-to-find-bird and smuggle it into La Lava’s gala, thus”—take that, Kyle!—“saving not only ourselves and our parents but the entire species as well?”

“That’s right!” Roo beams at me, reclining on her pillow.

“Actually,” I inform her, “that’s impossible. And insane.”

Kyle crouches down in front of us and puts his hand on my knee, maybe as a comforting gesture or maybe just for balance. But before he can say whatever it is he’s about to say, La Lluvia begins with its enormous whoosh and thump, as though responding to me.

Agreeing or disagreeing? Who knows.

“IT’S
NOT
IMPOSSIBLE,” Kyle shouts over the racket of the rain. “HARD, YES, BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE. TOGETHER ROO AND I CAN TRACK BETTER THAN THE BIRD GUY.”

Okay, thanks so much, good for you, Mr. Egotistical, I think.

Kyle reaches into his back pocket and pulls something out. A beat-up Polaroid. He holds it up in front of us.

“OOOO!” Roo gasps loudly, and I gasp too.

The bird gleams, shimmers, there on its vine. Bright golden feathers on its neck and chest, a glowing blue coat, a long black tail feather with a bluish glint, a short red beak. It looks like it could spread its wings and take flight straight out of the photograph.
Spectacular
is the word Mom would use. Or, maybe, nowadays,
inspirational
.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?” I yell at Kyle.

“I TOOK IT IN JUNE,” he shouts back. “ALL WE HAVE TO DO IS FIND ONE JUST LIKE THIS. LOOK HOW CLOSE IT LET ME GET!”

“
All
we have to do,” I mutter cynically under my breath, but of course no one can hear me with the sound of La Lluvia filling our ears.

I keep staring at Kyle’s photograph.
Feathers as blue as dusk, throat
as golden as lava
. Somehow I’d forgotten it until this very second, but now it comes rushing back up at me: ANYONE WHO TRIES TO CAPTURE THE VOLCANO BIRD WILL BE DRIVEN INSANE. Probably—maybe—just an old witch’s tale, but still I have this urge to ask Kyle, what about the curse? On top of every other problem with this whole plan,
what about the curse
?

“Anyone who tries to capture the volcano bird will be driven insane,” I say out loud, though neither of them is paying attention to me, because now Roo is screeching at the top of her lungs, over the noise of La Lluvia, “LET THE MISSION BEGIN! LET THE MISSION BEGIN!”

Then again, maybe Roo’s already insane.

“The
mission
?” I repeat weakly, to myself.

“But only if you’re trying to harm the bird. That’s the other part, the part my
abuela
didn’t mention,” Kyle says, coming close to my ear so he doesn’t have to scream. “Anyone who tries to capture the volcano bird will be driven insane,
but only if they’re trying to harm the bird
.” So he
was
paying attention to me! And his breath smells like the jungle!

“Really?” I say. Surprised, and relieved, and wondering if this is why Dad didn’t actually go crazy—because he didn’t want to harm the bird, only La Lava did.

Kyle hands me the photograph.

“WE HAVE TO DO THIS!” Roo shrieks at me. “IT’S IN OUR BLOOD!”

In our blood? I get an image of a flock of miniature birds flying through my veins.

“IN OUR BLOOD?” I echo, gazing at the Lava Throat.

And right then, before I’ve even finished saying
blood
, something happens inside me. Something changes, something clicks, and
suddenly I’m not doubtful anymore. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I know it’s somehow coming from seeing the photo of the bird. I feel strong. Like Kyle. Like Roo. The strength rushes through me, pounding in my head and feet. Yes. We have our Mission. Dad always said everyone needs a mission in life. And he’s right. It’s good to know what you need to do and then to go and do it. And yes, I’ll admit it: I’ve always dreamed of being the heroine of a story like this one.

It’s me who opens the door of our room, me who runs out into La Lluvia while Roo and Kyle hang back, watching. Doesn’t this seem like the kind of thing Roo would love to do that I’d never be wild enough to do? But here I am, letting La Lluvia wash over me. I gesture to them, try to get them to join me, and after pointing at me and laughing for a moment they do, they come join me, my two best friends in the whole wide world—yes, I’m not embarrassed to say it—and we’re all three prancing around getting blasted by the rain, feeling very clean and very hopeful, enjoying it like a ride at an amusement park, when it stops.

Just like that.

La Lluvia has transformed the concrete courtyard into a shallow pool, and the swimming pool itself is overflowing with water. We wade around the courtyard while the sun comes out brilliant again, making the jungle sparkle and wink.