Jackal (5 page)

Phoenix was a great guy, but he could be clueless sometimes. He did whatever his grandfather told him to do. His grandfather wanted to keep dragon bone secret, because he knew that his life would be changed forever if word got out that he was four hundred years old, thanks to dragon bone. I would never have believed the old man’s true age if I hadn’t seen what I’d seen over the past few weeks. Dragon bone was truly some messed-up stuff.

I turned off my overhead light and shut my eyes, trying to think happier thoughts. As cheesy as it sounds, the first thing that came to mind was my parents. I liked them. A lot. I mean, sure, my mom talked too much and my dad was kind of hyper, but they took good care of me and were really great to hang out with. I just wished we got to hang out more often. Like Raffi said, they were super busy people.

Even so, I felt lucky. None of my friends had “normal” homes. Ryan’s dad had passed away from cancer less than a year ago, and he lived with just his mom. Hú Dié’s mom was in an assisted-living facility because she had ALS—Lou Gehrig’s disease—so it was just Hú Dié and her dad at home. Both of Phoenix’s parents had died in a car wreck when he was a baby, and he lived with his grandfather. If there was one thing I couldn’t complain about, it was two solid parents.

My folks knew most of what had happened in San Francisco, but I never told them about dragon bone. It wasn’t so much because of the bad guys involved, but the good guys—like Ryan, a wise old Chinese woman named Hok who lived in San Francisco’s Chinatown, and even Phoenix’s grandfather. I knew how careful my parents were about legal issues, and I’m positive they’d never let me hang out with
any
of my friends again if they knew what I knew. More than that, if my parents ever found out that I’d withheld important information from investigators, they’d kill me.

I’d talked with my mom for, like, an hour before our flight took off, and it was nice to hear her voice. As usual, she did most of the talking, motor-mouthing about the weather and other nonsense, but that’s exactly what I needed back in my life—a major dose of normal. I did tell her about Ling and Mr. Chang’s offer for me to be China’s “poster boy” for cycling, and she actually went quiet for a full ten seconds. Then she rambled on about how she thought it would be a great idea for me to take them up on the offer to try for a week. She said that she and my father were going to be swamped for the next month anyway, and that I might as
well be off doing something exciting with my friends instead of sitting around the house, bored. I told her the same thing I’d told Ling, that I’d think about it.

My mom said that while she couldn’t pick me up from the Indianapolis airport when we landed—at 7:30 a.m., because of the time change—she’d be home when Ryan’s mom dropped me off around 8:30 a.m. My dad was going to be home, too. Best of all, my mom was going to make her famous huevos rancheros for breakfast. I couldn’t remember the last time the three of us had eaten a meal together. I was pumped.

I thought I heard people arguing softly in the row across from me, and I opened my eyes just a hair. It turned out to be Phoenix and Hú Dié, who were sitting beside one another. I doubted I’d ever figure those two out. Sometimes they acted like best friends. Other times they fought like brother and sister, complete with fists flying. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, which was why my friends meant so much to me. Phoenix had been my best friend until this summer vacation began. Now he, Ryan, and Hú Dié were pretty equal in the best-friend department, and I liked it that way. I hoped that whatever I decided about China didn’t screw that up.

It was obvious that the three of them were ready to move to China immediately and start racing for Mr. Chang. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do yet. At least, that’s what I told them and myself. Deep down, though, I knew the truth. There was no way I was going to a foreign country to race bikes, even for a week. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to race bikes in the good old USA anymore. Riding Raffi’s
dirt trail reminded me that bikes were supposed to be fun. Racing was too much work.

Ryan and his mom both began to snore, and I couldn’t help grinning. At least they had their priorities right. I couldn’t do anything about any of the stuff on my mind while I was thirty thousand feet in the air, so I might as well get some sleep. I closed my eyes again and tried to follow Ryan’s mom’s lead. If everything went well, I’d be home before I knew it.

“Hi!” I shouted
. “I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen, baby!”

I smiled, closing the back door behind me. I dropped my key into the pocket of my cargo shorts, dragged my suitcase into the mud room, and headed for the main hallway. The house smelled
awesome
.

“Perfect timing!” my dad said as I left the hallway and entered the kitchen. “So glad you’re home.” He hugged me, squashing my face against his fancy silk tie. He must have been going to court. He was an environmental attorney, and usually just wore jeans and a t-shirt to the office.

My mom stepped away from the stove and wrapped me in a massive bear hug, even though she was no bigger than an average high school girl. She wore a fancy apron over even fancier business clothes. The apron smelled like fresh chilies and fried corn tortillas. My mouth began to water.

“It is
so
nice to have you home,” my mom said as she
released me and went back to cooking. “How was your flight?”

“Great,” I said. “I slept through most of it.”

“Attaboy,” my dad said. “It will help with the jet lag. Any new developments since we last spoke?”

I thought about the article I’d read on the plane concerning Lin Tan, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. “Nope,” I said.

“That’s good,” my mom said. “Have you given China any more thought?”

“Yeah, I’ve decided that I don’t want to go.”

My parents glanced at one another, and my dad plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“Grab a seat,” my dad said.

I sat down next to him.

“Have you contacted Mr. Ling and Mr. Chang yet to give them the news?”

“No,” I said. “I have until the end of today to decide.”

“Excellent. Your mother and I have been talking. While we’ve missed you very much, we think it makes sense for you to go to China for a week.”

I groaned. “Mom said that last night.”

“Well, I’m even more sure of it now,” my mom said, cracking some eggs. “It would be a wonderful cultural experience for you. Beyond that, your father and I are both going to be buried with work for the next several weeks. I hate to admit it, but we’re not going to see much of each other anyway.”

“Unfortunately, it’s true,” my dad said. “Take today, for example. Your mother and I both have to eat and run this
morning. I won’t be home until eight, and she has a late dinner meeting with prospective clients. She won’t see you until at least ten tonight.”

I frowned. “I had enough cultural experiences in San Francisco’s Chinatown.”

My dad sighed. “What are you going to do for the rest of your summer vacation if you stay home?”

“Hang out with my friends.”

“Every single day?” my mom asked. “That seems unlikely. You do realize that you’d see them every day in China, though.”

“It’s not even the same thing. Here it would be us just hanging out and stuff. Over there, we’d be training and racing. That’s work.”

My mom came over to the table. She served the food and sat down with us. Everything looked phenomenal. Breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day, and huevos rancheros was easily my favorite dish. My mom had learned how to cook it from our next-door neighbor back in California, a nice woman from Mexico who owned an awesome taco truck. The dish consisted of chili sauce on top of fried eggs, which were on top of a freshly fried corn tortilla. As side dishes, my mom had made refried beans and spicy Mexican rice. Delicious!

We dug into our food, and my dad said, “Your mother told me last night that you saw Raffi at that BMX track outside of San Francisco.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled between bites. “He moved there with his folks two years ago. He gets free gear from a bunch of BMX companies now. I’m sort of jealous.”

“Are you interested in racing again?”

“Not really, but I am thinking about buying a BMX bike.”

“Are there any BMX tracks around here?” my mom asked.

“I did some surfing on my tablet at the airport. There is a track at a place called Indy Cycloplex. It’s the home of Marian University’s BMX team.”

“Colleges offer scholarships for BMX?”

“Some do.”

“I guess that makes sense,” my dad said. “BMX has been an Olympic sport for a while now. Are there any BMX shops in town?”

“There’s a bike shop in Broad Ripple called Bicycle Exchange that looks pretty sweet. One of the owners still races BMX; the other builds custom bike frames like Hú Dié.”

“We’ll have to check it out in a few weeks.”

“A few
weeks
?” I said. “I was hoping we could go there in the next few days. I want to get a BMX bike so that I can do street tricks around the neighborhood like I used to do in California. It would keep me occupied when my friends can’t hang out.”

My dad shook his head as he wolfed down the last of his breakfast. “Sorry, champ, I just don’t have the time. A big trial has just begun. It’s going to be a long one.”

I turned to my mother.

She frowned. I noticed that she’d already finished her breakfast, too. “Same story here, I’m afraid,” she said.
“Didn’t Mr. Ling say something about you possibly riding BMX in China?”

“Not the same thing,” I said. “Not even close.”

“How do you know?”

“I guess I don’t know, but I’d have to stay there longer than one week to do BMX. The one-week trip is only to race road bikes.”

“Well, perhaps you should consider staying longer,” my dad said. “It’s highly probable that you’ll never get another chance like this again.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

My dad stood. “Well, I’ve learned that if
everyone
tells me the same thing, perhaps I should listen. Give it some more thought, Jake. We can discuss it further tonight, if you’d like. Right now, I’ve got to run.”

My mom stood, too. “I’ve got to leave as well. Your father and I will support whatever decision you make. We just don’t want you to regret not pursuing this opportunity.”

“Thanks,” I said, shoveling a forkful of refried beans into my mouth. I was only half done with my breakfast.

“Pizza tonight?” my dad asked as he headed for the main hallway.

“Sure,” I muttered. “Text me when you leave the office. I’ll order and you can pick it up.”

“Sounds good,” my dad said as he disappeared around the corner. “See you!”

“See you,” I replied.

My mom grabbed my dad’s dirty dish along with hers.

“I’ll get those, Mom,” I said. “Don’t worry about them.”

My mom put the plates back onto the table. “You are a dear,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. “Maybe tonight you can tell me more about your trip.”

“Okay.”

“Have a nice day, baby.”

“You too.”

I finished breakfast and did the dishes, then plopped down onto the couch in the living room. I thought about trying to get some more sleep, but I was way too restless. I flipped though a couple hundred television channels but didn’t see anything interesting.

I checked the time.

Ten a.m.

I wondered if Ryan was awake. He’d slept through the entire flight, so maybe he was. I picked up my cell phone and called him.

It went right to voicemail.

I couldn’t remember whether he’d lost his cell phone during our adventures in California, so I called his home number. His mom answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Jake?”

“Yeah, hi, Mrs. Vanderhausen,” I said. “It’s me.”

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. I was just wondering if Ryan was awake.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “He ate a huge bacon-and-egg breakfast and went right back to sleep. He’ll probably be out for a few more hours.”

“That’s okay. Can you have him give me a call when he wakes up?”

“Sure, except I can tell you now that he won’t have time to hang out with you today, if that’s what you’re hoping for. I don’t mean to sound greedy, but I want some alone time with him.”

“I understand,” I said. “He can just call me tomorrow or whenever.”

“Tomorrow or whenever?”
she repeated. “What about China? Have you decided that you don’t want to go? Back at the airport, you said that you were considering it.”

“I did consider it. On the plane, I more or less decided that I’ll take a pass. I want to just chill out until school starts back up. Life has been pretty hectic lately.”

“It certainly has, but that’s all behind you now, Jake. You should think about your future. Hok called me half an hour ago. She was up all night, talking with well-connected friends in China. I asked her to look into Mr. Chang, and it turns out that he is the real deal. I know you’re concerned about living in a foreign country for a year or more, and I understand that. However, spending just one week to try to make a splash is another story altogether. This is a major opportunity. I don’t think you should pass it up.”