This Book Is Not Good for You

by Pseudonymous Bosch

  Without warning, Cass stopped and turned out her light.

  “What is it?” asked Max-Ernest.

  “Shh—listen.”

  They heard footsteps—very close by. But whose? And rustling. But from where?

  Cass turned her flashlight back on and made a 360-degree turn until it landed on the park fence.

  Behind the fence, terrified eyes stared out at them. Then bolted out of sight.

  “Was that a deer?” asked Yo-Yoji.

  “It was an antelope… well, I think it was,” said Max-Ernest. “It could have been a gazelle. Or a—”

  “At least we know we’re still next to Wild World,” said Cass, interrupting before he started naming every animal he knew.

  They’d almost circled the entire park when a yellow light appeared in the distance ahead of them.

  As they got closer, they saw that the light was emanating from a small booth next to a large gate. Behind the gate, the road turned into the park. Inside the booth, a guard was watching a football game on television.

  The kids lingered underneath a pine tree about thirty feet away.

  “You think we could climb over?” Yo-Yoji whispered. “I doubt the gate is electrified.”

  “I don’t know, it looks pretty rickety. Plus, the guard would hear us,” said Max-Ernest.

  “Max-Ernest is right,” said Cass. “I think we have to wait for it to open, then sneak in somehow.”

  “Is anybody else like totally starving?” Yo-Yoji grumblingly asked.

  Cass pulled a bag of trail mix out from the bottom of her backpack. The trail mix—Cass’s “super-chip” recipe of equal parts potato chips, banana chips, and chocolate chips—had been mashed and melted into a single lump.

  Yo-Yoji made a face. “How old is that?”

  “Do you want it or not…? And don’t take too much. That’s all I’ve got.”

  Yo-Yoji broke off a handful. Max-Ernest carefully extracted the banana chips—the only things in the trail mix he could eat. Then he put even those back.

  “The chocolate might have gotten on them,” he explained in a whisper.

  After only a few minutes, although it felt much longer, they heard a vehicle approaching. Just in time, they slunk farther into the shadows.

  A white van drove past, barely slowing as it neared the park gate. It had no back windows and no markings whatsoever. For a second, they could see the driver; he was pale and bald and expressionless, just like his vehicle.

  The guard in the booth stood up straight and saluted the van driver. The gate opened with a screech.

  “You think we should follow him in?” asked Cass.

  “No way. The guard will see us for sure,” said Max-Ernest. “He could turn on an alarm or something. Or maybe just come after us. He might even have a gun—”

  “So how’re we going to get in, then?” asked Yo-Yoji.

  “Maybe he’ll go to the bathroom,” said Cass hopefully.

  “I think we should make a run for it—then hide,” said Yo-Yoji.

  But it was too late. The gate was already closing.

  “Guess we’ll have to wait for the next one,” said Max-Ernest.

  The others gave him a look: no kidding.

  In a short while, another vehicle passed by. It was a long truck with an open bed full of bales of hay. The three friends looked at each other and grinned: a hayride! Perfect.

  The truck stopped at the booth. This time, the gate remained closed.

  “Sign in, please.” The guard handed the truck driver a clipboard.

  “Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” said the driver, tipping his ten-gallon hat. His voice had a hint of a twang and his mouth was surrounded by a big handlebar mustache. He was a cowboy.

  “Come on!” Cass whispered.

  The three kids crouched down and run-walked toward the truck, keeping in the shadows by the fence.

  “Don’t get too lonely out here now,” said the cowboy, handing back the clipboard. “G’night.”

  The kids climbed on just as the truck started to move.

  “Ow!” Max-Ernest scraped his leg as he lifted himself over the side-rail.

  “Shh!” Cass motioned for Max-Ernest to squeeze himself between hay bales beside her and Yo-Yoji.

  The truck braked. The young stowaways froze. Hearts thumping in their chests.

  The cowboy opened his door. “Hey, d’ya hear that?”

  “Probably just an animal smelling dinner,” said the guard.

  “Guess so,” said the cowboy uncertainly.

  He paused, looking around. Then closed his door and shifted the truck back into gear.

  The road was bumpy and the cowboy drove so fast it seemed the truck tires were in the air for half the ride. The kids’ butts got a bit bruised, but wedged between hay bales they rode in relative safety.

  The truck parked next to the van in front of a low warehouse building with three rolling garage-style doors, one of them open.

  The cowboy jumped out and headed for the open door, a piece of paper in his hand. “Hello, anybody home?”

  Cass, watching from behind a hay bale, was about to signal her friends to get off the truck when the bald van driver stepped out of the building, stopping the cowboy from entering. The bald man had a clear view of the truck; they would have to wait for another opportunity to escape.

  “Well, howdy,” said the cowboy, tipping his hat. “I got a truckload of hay for you courtesy of the friendly folks at Tapper-Perry Farms.”

  “I can see that,” said the bald man tersely. He took the paper out of the cowboy’s hand and scanned it.

  “This isn’t the price I agreed to.”

  The kids slunk farther down between the hay bales, listening.

  “It’s only a five percent hike. We just switched over to organic hay, so our expenses are up. All our farmin’s sustainable now,” said the cowboy proudly. “The alfalfa, the soy, all of it.”

  “Well, that’s very nice for you, but I don’t think our zebras give a rat’s behind whether their hay is organic or mint-flavored.”

  “I thought this park encouraged conservation.”

  The bald man snorted. “I’m the operations manager. My job is to conserve money.”

  The cowboy peered into the warehouse. “Look at all that sugar. Is that healthy for the animals?”

  “Maybe it’s for people—not that it’s any of your business,” said the bald man, moving so that the cowboy couldn’t look inside any longer. “Now you give me the price I was quoted or you just back that hay out of here. Matter of fact, I want a five percent discount.”

  The cowboy hesitated, fuming. Then,

  “Fine. You have a forklift?”

  “What’s wrong with your hands? You can stack it all by the wall over there.” The bald man pointed to the side of the building. “I’ll cut you a check when you’re done.” He headed back inside the warehouse without another word.

  “Jerk,” said the cowboy under his breath. He started walking back toward the truck.

  Cass measured the distance with her eyes. Should they try and make a run for it before he reached the truck? He would probably see them, but at least they’d have a fighting chance of escape. If they stayed on the truck, they’d be discovered for sure.

  “OK, run!” she whispered.

  It was the wrong decision.

  She hadn’t run ten feet when the cowboy grabbed her wrist with one hand and Max-Ernest’s wrist with the other.

  “You little rascals!”

  Yo-Yoji stopped on his own a few feet ahead. “Let them go!”

  “Not in your lifetime,” snarled the cowboy. “Nobody sneaks on my truck and gets away with it! Where’d you get on? The farm?”

  “No, just outside the gate—honest! We’re… animal activists,” said Cass, thinking quickly. “We’re here to spy on Wild World. We heard the elephants were treated badly so we came at night to see for ourselves.”

  “Yeah, the African Elephant is endangered,” said Ma
x-Ernest. “Do you know the difference between a vulnerable species and endangered one?”

  “No, but I know you little punks are both vulnerable and endangered right now.” He tightened his grip on Cass and Max-Ernest. They squirmed.

  “But you’re a conservationist,” said Yo-Yoji. “Don’t you want to help us?”

  “Help you? I should tan your hides!” The cowboy shook his head in disgust. “But between you and me, that guy in there really ticked me off. I ain’t in a mood to help this park out right now. So I’ll just pretend I didn’t see you.”

  He released his prisoners. Cass and Max-Ernest rubbed their wrists, relieved.

  The cowboy chuckled. “You can set all their elephants free for all I care. Now git!”

  The kids didn’t need to be told twice.

  * * *

  As soon as he was alone, the cowboy spoke into his phone:

  “Change of plan—I’m letting them stay to see what they find out… Don’t underestimate those kids. You should have seen the way they handled me…! You think I don’t know it’s dangerous, Old Man…? Go ahead, call Pietro. I’m sure he would agree with me…”

  Then he clicked off and climbed back into his truck.

  As the three kids rounded the warehouse the moon came out and they could see Rainbow Rainforest looming in the distance. It was a dark mass about a half mile away, separated from them by the grassy hills of SERENGETI SAVANNA. From where they were it looked less like a rainforest and more like a storm front.

  “My mom’s in there somewhere,” said Cass, staring. “Let’s go—we’ve got to save her.”

  “We’ll never be able to see in there at night,” said Max-Ernest. “Remember how dark it was?—and that was when there was still a little sun left.”

  With Yo-Yoji’s help, Max-Ernest convinced Cass they should find a place to sleep. They could enter the rainforest early in the morning, before the park opened.

  After walking for about ten minutes, they settled on a spot nestled between two small hills. Boulders surrounded them, giving them a sense of protection.

  “Do you think one of us should keep watch while the others sleep?” asked Max-Ernest. “I mean in case somebody sees us.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Cass.

  “For sure,” said Yo-Yoji.

  “So who…?”

  Max-Ernest’s friends looked at him expectedly.

  “Fine,” he said after a moment. “But I’m waking one of you up after a couple hours. It’ll be like a watch system on a boat. How ’bout that?”

  Unfortunately, he didn’t make it that long. He was so exhausted that he barely made it a couple minutes.

  Soon, all three friends were fast asleep. As the minutes wore on, they snuggled closer together for warmth. Like puppies lying together in the grass.

  Given the peaceful expressions on their faces, you’d never guess they were camping out in a wild animal park, exposed to the elements and only minutes away from the home of perhaps the most vile and villainous organization in the world, the Midnight Sun.

  Shadowy forms stalked them in their sleep. But when one after another they stirred and looked briefly out at the starry night, they reassured themselves that they were dreaming, and that those shapes were only boulders.

  With contented sighs, they resumed their innocent slumber.

  Only when dawn came did they learn they were no longer alone.

  Max-Ernest’s bed, like everyone’s bed, sometimes got gritty. After a day of digging through stuff at Cass’s grandfathers’ store, for example.

  Never, however, had he felt a pebble as large as the one now sticking into his thigh. It was practically a rock. In fact, it was a rock.

  He shifted away from it, only to hit another, larger rock with his left hip.

  What was going on? Where was he?

  Still half asleep, Max-Ernest raised his head.

  He immediately noticed two things:

  First, he was not in bed. He was outside. And it was dawn.

  Second, the air around him was very hot and moist. It felt almost as though there were an animal breathing down the back of his neck.

  Come to think of it, it smelled that way, too.

  Suddenly, Max-Ernest was gripped by fear. Fear worse than when Dr. L offered to operate on his brain. Fear worse than when Ms. Mauvais threatened to feed him to a shark.

  Slowly, by inches, Max-Ernest turned around.

  Until he faced a sight few people ever get to see. And fewer still live to tell about.

  The inside of a lion’s mouth.

  The lion opened wider, stretching his black lips and baring his long incisors. His tongue, Max-Ernest couldn’t help noticing, was just about the size of Max-Ernest’s head.

  The lion let out the biggest yawn Max-Ernest had ever seen. Or heard. Then the lion shook his mane and—blessedly—closed his mouth.

  But Max-Ernest’s relief was short-lived. Because a second later the lion was licking his lips and staring at him. It looked rather like the lion was contemplating breakfast.

  “Stand up slowly,” Max-Ernest heard Cass whisper from somewhere behind him. “Don’t run—remember, that triggers their predatory instincts.”

  His heart pounding, Max-Ernest complied. He looked over his other shoulder. A few feet away from him, Yo-Yoji and Cass were already standing.

  They were surrounded by lions on all sides. Six altogether. A pride. The boulders, it turned out, were seats. Thrones. For the kings of beasts.

  “Now hold your arms out wide like the Amazing Alfred told us.” Cass spread her arms, demonstrating. “Like you’re really big, and too much trouble for a lion to chase down and eat. Like maybe you’d fight back.”

  Terrified, Mar-Ernest and Yo-Yoji followed suit.

  “OK, start backing away—slowly.”

  Step by stumbling step, the three kids walked backward down the hill. The longest walk of their life.

  The lions blinked at them but did not move.

  Eventually, our young heroes found the courage to turn their backs on them and pick up their pace. Silently, they all thanked the Amazing Alfred for their lesson in lion safety.

  Of course, it is impossible to know exactly what the lions were thinking, or whether or not the lion tamer’s wide-arms trick convinced them to leave the kids alone. But, judging by their expressions, the lions didn’t think the strange two-legged animals striding away from them looked very tasty. *

  Most likely, the lions thought the three humans were out of their minds. The humans, after all, were walking straight toward the rainforest. And the lions knew better than to ever enter such a dangerous place.

  Max-Ernest stalled.

  There was no way to pass without getting wet. So much water rained down from the sprinklers at the entrance to Rainbow Rainforest that there was practically a waterfall.

  “C’mon, if you don’t hurry we might get caught!” Cass beckoned from the other side where she and Yo-Yoji were both standing drenched. “We don’t know what time the first tram goes through.”

  “Just a second—I’m saving up my breath!”

  “It’s not like you have to swim…”

  “OK, OK!” Closing his eyes, Max-Ernest sprinted through the downpour.

  “Way to go, dude!” Laughing, Yo-Yoji patted Max-Ernest on the back while Cass ran ahead. “You can open your eyes now…”

  Max-Ernest opened his eyes cautiously. Relieved, he shook his hair out like a dog.

  “Darn it!”

  They looked down the road: in her eagerness, Cass had slipped in the mud. She pushed herself up on her hands, sleeves dripping.

  “You OK?” Yoji asked when he and Max-Ernest caught up with her.

  “Fine!” said Cass, her ears tingling with embarrassment. “But look—” The remaining trail mix had spilled in the mud. There was no saving it.

  “Too bad,” said Yo-Yoji. “I was just going to ask for some. I’m way hungry.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

 
; As Cass shakily stood up, Max-Ernest pointed behind her—“Hey, is that a path?”

  It was. In her fall, Cass had knocked over a bush, revealing a narrow footpath.

  The kids wasted no time in following it.

  At first the path was so winding and overgrown that they thought it might not be a real path at all. Or perhaps it had been made by an animal. But eventually it widened and before long they found themselves in a large, sun-filled clearing—the first time they’d seen more than a small patch of sky since they’d entered the rainforest.

  “Yo, Max-Ernest—heads up,” said Yo-Yoji, throwing something small and round at him. “Breakfast!”

  Max-Ernest instinctively reached up to catch with both hands, not knowing what it was. But as soon as he felt the fuzzy texture, he was overwhelmed with a sense of horror. And he dropped the offending object—a peach—on the ground.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, pale and trembling.

  “What? Throw fruit at you? I thought you’d be used to that after all those stand-up comedy routines of yours—just kidding.”

  “I have haptodysphoria.”

  “Don’t tell me—another allergy,” said Cass.

  “No, it’s a phobia. It’s fear of peach fuzz.” *

  “Is that like one of your weird jokes?” asked Yo-Yoji, incredulous.

  “I never joke about my conditions.”

  “I’ll vouch for that,” said Cass. “But it’s too bad you won’t try one, Max-Ernest—they’re the best peaches I ever had.”

  After further investigation, they discovered the peach tree was not the only fruit tree in the vicinity; they were in an orchard. But an orchard unlike any of them had ever seen before. It was more like a botanical garden—exclusively for fruit. Each tree was labeled with the name and description of the kind of fruit the tree bore.

  Most were fruits the kids had never heard of:

  MAGIC FRUIT

  Take one bite of this mysterious fruit, and for a long moment afterward, sour things will taste sweet and sweet things sour.

  STAR FRUIT

  This yellow fruit originally came from Sri Lanka. When you slice it, it makes stars.