“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You. Look at you. Liz, twenty four hours ago you said my invention was a deathtrap. Now, not only do you break me out of jail, you bring the O/A to me. Incredible.”
Liz glared. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but in twenty four hours a whole lot has changed. Twenty four hours ago I didn’t believe in Tanakee. Twenty four hours ago some evil freak wasn’t after my child. Twenty four hours ago I didn’t realize just how important your invention was.”
Ben scrutinized the device. “That’s just it. Was. Past tense. I can’t get it to power on. And I can’t fix it without my equipment. It’s at my parent’s house.”
“Yay!” Lily shouted. “We’re going to Gram-Gram’s!”
“No, we’re not,” Liz corrected her. “Ben, we can’t just waltz up to your mom’s house,” she gestured at the sirens blaring in the distance. “Listen to that. They’d catch us for sure.”
He scratched his cheek. Amelia saw his mind working.
“Okay,” he said. “How about this? You drop me off, and I’ll sneak over there.”
She refused. “Nu-uh. No way. Not after what we just went through to get you out of jail. I’m not going to let you get caught again!”
The sirens sounded closer.
“They’re gaining on us!” Ayita cautioned.
“Do you have another idea?” he checked behind them. “They’re gonna catch up with us sooner or later. This way we can buy me time to get this fixed. You guys can lead the cops to Archer Savage Industries. That’s where you said they have Jack and Enola, right?”
“We’re not sure. We think so,” Amelia said.
Liz glanced at her in the mirror. “Amelia, any visions? Any idea what we should do?”
Amelia concentrated, touching the eagle feather, clearing her mind the best she could. The approaching sirens and Liz’s driving didn’t help. A jumbled array of images, thoughts and emotions rushed at her.
“I-I can’t,” she felt defeated. Then she saw something in her mind’s eye. A face. A furry face. “Wait! It’s…it’s Takota!”
“What!” Pud climbed next to her. “What about Takota? Is he all right?”
Ayita stared to eternity. “I see it. He’s frightened.”
“Is he in danger? Is Jack with him?” Liz pressed.
Amelia tried to coax the vision forward. No use. All she got was Takota’s terrified image.
“We don’t have time for this!” Ben opened the passenger door and dragged his foot on the asphalt while they sped down Irving Avenue.
“Ben! No!” Liz watched for traffic. “Hold on, everybody!” she veered hard right onto Fourteenth Street, a narrow neighborhood side road. She slid the car to a halt in the driveway of a dilapidated two-story dwelling.
“Okay, good. This is good,” Ben smiled at his wife. “Thanks, honey.”
“Ben, I love you, but you can thank me when we have our son back. Just go get that machine of yours fixed, pronto!”
Ben jumped out of the car. He glimpsed his wife one more time, then began to run.
“Wait!” Pud stopped him. “I’m coming with you!”
“But I…” he seemed to melt when he gazed at Pud’s large, dissimilar eyes. “Oh, all right. Come on.”
Pud climbed up Ben’s orange, county jail jumpsuit. He perched on Ben’s shoulders and they snuck into someone’s backyard.
Liz pulled the car onto the pavement and went down Fourteenth.
“Can you guys hear that?” Amelia asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” Liz said.
“Exactly. Neither do I.”
“Maybe we lost ‘em.”
Liz eased off the gas and allowed the patrol car to slow. Amelia turned up the police radio. Nothing but static. When they reached the intersection, Liz went left toward the edge of town.
“What now?” asked Amelia.
“I’m taking you home. That’s what. Your mom’s probably worried sick!”
Amelia protested. “No! You can’t! I want to stay with you! I want to help!”
“I’m not going to put you in any more danger. No. I’m taking you home and that’s that!”
“Wait! My cellphone! I’ll call my mom and let her know I’m okay. Please don’t take me home!”
“But you’re not okay,” Liz readied to crank the steering wheel, then stopped cold, staring. Amelia peered over her shoulder. Three police cruisers blinded her with their flashing lights.
“We’ve got you cornered! Turn off the engine and put your hands in the air where we can see them! Cooperate and nobody gets hurt!”
“I’ve got children in here!” Liz gestured to Lily in the backseat. “What are you gonna do, shoot innocent children?”
“Just put your hands UP!”
“Amelia,” Liz kept her sights forward. “Get Ayita out of here! The least we can do is save her!”
Amelia nodded and scanned the scene. Police in front and behind, yet on her side, she was in the perfect position to make a break. She examined the building next to them. It had a narrow walkway in the back which led to a tiny alleyway between two old brownstones. She tapped Ayita on the shoulder and gestured.
The police got out of their cars. Some carried handguns, some had assault rifles. The sight of them made Amelia’s blood pump. She’d committed herself, though. No retreating now.
She pushed the door open, allowing Ayita to hop to the pavement. She stepped out and crouched behind the car.
“Stop! Don’t move!”
She ignored the command and dashed toward the buildings. With Ayita sprinting behind her, they dodged into the alley.
The space between the two historic buildings cut to Columbia Avenue, the main street through town. From there, she saw nothing but traffic and had no idea where to turn. She felt Ayita jump and climb to her shoulder.
“Hurry,” she whispered in Amelia’s ear. “They’re coming.”
FORTY-TWO
NOOOO!” JACK DASHED to the bluff. The stones under his feet slipped and shifted. He got on all fours and crawled near the edge, clinging to the vegetation. Everything he grabbed came loose and uprooted from the sandy soil. Finally, he slid into position inside a narrow nook. Wedging his body, he peered over the side.
The distance made him breathless. Down and down and down the cliff face fell, water cascading into near blackness. At the bottom a cloud of vapor hung in the air, shrouding the point of impact in fine mist. His ears filled with the sound of rushing waves crashing into boulders, whitecaps spraying and shattering as the river hastened over the rocky brink.
He hesitated, knowing what he would find down there—Takota and the Bigfoot, somewhere dashed on the rocks, broken and…he didn’t want to think about it.
He blinked his watery eyes, hoping, praying. For the first time, he heard something louder than the roaring water. His pulse. It thumped in his chest. The snug space was constricting his blood flow, yet he needed to find out what had happened to his friend. He held his breath, letting his vision focus on the rugged canyon floor.
Nothing. No bodies. No carnage. No sign of death, or life, for that matter.
He dislodged himself and hiked the chiseled steps to the bottom of the falls again. Wading waist deep in the river, he searched. The constant spray hitting his cheeks made it impossible to see. Pulling himself toward shore, he breathed deep, needing the air. He took in some water instead, coughing and spitting. It traveled down the wrong pipe.
“Are you all right?” a voice brought tingles to his skin. Though unseen, he recognized Takota immediately. “You didn’t fall, too, did you?”
“Uh, yeah—I mean, no,” he rubbed his eyes. “What?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Uh,” his sight began to clear. “I remember you falling.”
“Uh, huh,” Takota answered. “What else?”
“I, uh…I remember a…” Jack’s vision returned to normal. He blinked and saw past Takota. In the shallow water a large animal lie
motionless, its arms contorted in awkward positions. “Bigfoot!” a blast of vigor had him running.
Takota caught up and stopped him. “It’s all right. He’s out cold. That’s what happens when someone rides you down a waterfall like a magic carpet,” he stepped to the inactive beast and nudged its shoulder. No reaction. “He’ll be okay. I think.”
“Good, I guess,” Jack said. “Let’s go before it wakes up. We gotta get back.”
Takota tossed his furry hands and paced the shoreline. “I told you. I’m not going. I can’t!”
“Why are you so down on yourself? It seems everyone believes in you except you. Why?”
“You saw for yourself. I can’t do it. I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t stop that Bigfoot. If I’m some big Eteea warrior, then why can’t I stop one lousy Bigfoot?”
“But you did, Takota. You did stop him. I’m alive.”
He scoffed. “Yeah. No thanks to me.”
“Takota, I can’t explain this, but I get the feeling whenever I’m around you, everything’s gonna be fine. Can’t you feel it, too?”
He stared at his feet. “All I feel is scared. There. I said it. I told the truth. I’m scared. I’m afraid I won’t be able to save you, Jack. I mean, when it really counts, I don’t believe I can protect you.”
“I believe in you. Doesn’t that mean something?”
“I can’t do it,” he sighed. “I just can’t. Go, Jack. Go back home. Stay out of it. Stay away from Davos.”
Takota pointed an ear to the ground. He squinted at the Bigfoot. Jack noticed it, too. The monster stirred. Jack’s pulse shot up and he backed off. The hairy beast moaned, feeling its neck. It tried to focus on the closest object, which happened to be Jack. When it saw him, it took a deep breath and let out a loud, anguished call. Jack covered his ears. Takota ran between the Bigfoot and the boy. It didn’t move. Instead, it let loose another howl, this one even louder, longer, more distressed. Takota’s head swiveled.
“What is it?” Jack searched with him. “What’s going on?”
“Shhh!”
Jack heard crackling, large branches twisting and breaking, trees falling, ground rumbling.
“Let’s beat it!” Takota led him downstream. After they’d made it a few strides, a hulking figure emerged from the bushes. It splashed into the water, making heavy, white-capped ripples until it stomped to a standstill. Next to it, from the opposite bank, came another, even larger creature. Jack surmised the Bigfoot had called its friends.
“Come on!” Takota took his hand and dragged him again to the trail. Two more great beasts charged down the path, forcing them to make a hasty retreat to the beach. They searched for other escape routes. It seemed everywhere they looked, another Bigfoot appeared—on top of the falls, lining the edges of the ravine—coming at them from all sides. The original one got up in the shallows. It glared at Takota, moving in slowly.
Takota stayed in front of the boy, circling, growling, doing his best to be intimidating. Jack counted at least twenty animals, muddy hair covering their humongous physiques, each one larger than the next.
“Don’t you dare touch him, you hear me!” Takota snarled. “I mean it! You don’t wanna mess with me, any of you!”
The massive creatures broke out in grotesque, menacing laughter. They advanced one small step at a time.
Jack felt rooted to the rocky ground, firmly entrenched in place, chin shivering, teeth chattering. He was cold and wet, though that’s not what made him tremble. The approaching Bigfoot army terrified him.
He noticed more had gathered on the ridge. A dozen? Two? He didn’t have time to count. The frothing monsters were almost upon them. He smelled their acrid odor, as if a skunk had died in a trash can overflowing with rotten fish.
Takota’s pace quickened. “I’m not fooling! Do you guys know who you’re messing with? This is the True Soul, and I’m his protector! You understand? His protector!”
The largest Bigfoot lunged with one enormous step. Takota curled into a ball and twisted. The beast missed by inches. It stumbled and caught a thick branch hanging over the river. Clenching both fists, it prepared for another assault.
Then something made it stop. It skewed its neck, anger softening to worry. The others sensed it, too, holding their ears to the wind and listening.
“What are they doing?” Jack was confused.
“They hear something. Something that scares them.”
“Can you hear it?”
Takota listened. “Of course. I think it’s…no. Can it be?”
“What? Can it be what?”
Each Bigfoot became agitated, staring into the woods with anticipation. The biggest one peered at Takota, then at Jack, its concern replaced by astonishment.
It snapped to the right, panting. The others did the same. They were on the verge of panic, shaking and scanning the tree line.
“What is it?” Jack nudged Takota. All the Bigfoot began to run. “Takota? What’s going on?”
The beasts emptied the river basin, their leader touching each of them on the back as they sprinted past. Jack figured he must have been making sure all his soldiers were accounted for. Suddenly, he had a bigger respect for the animals. Maybe they weren’t the mindless brutes he’d thought.
The last individual considered Jack one more time, a tiny smile growing on its lips. Then it reacted to something in the trees on the opposite shore, and slipped into the vegetation with no sound.
Jack and Takota stood alone next to the rippling river.
“We need to go, Takota.”
“Hold on,” he moved toward the bushes. Jack tried to stop him. The tiny creature felt unrelenting.
They both jumped at the sudden sound of rushing wind. Jack ducked when he saw a flock of yellow warblers fluttering through the leaves. They aimed for him and veered at the last second, circling and ascending the waterfall, then fading into the spray.
He considered jumping in the river and letting the current wash him away. Takota seemed unfazed by the intimidating presence nearing them.
“It can’t be,” he mumbled. “Can it?”
On the riverbank, near where the rocky shore met the trees, a stand of salmonberry bushes began to shake and crackle. Jack held his breath. He took a step back and slipped, flinging his hands to maintain balance. One false move and he’d be swimming.
The quaking shrubs spat out a tiny, greyish figure about Takota’s size. Jack batted his eyelids, trying to make sense of it.
“It is!” Takota shouted, running toward the newcomer. “I can’t believe it! Orzabal!”
FORTY-THREE
BEN STOPPED AND LISTENED for Mrs. Beauregard. He knew she loved to work in her garden every afternoon, and could have been just about anywhere.
Pud asked, “Are we there, yet?”
“No,” he pointed behind the craftsman-style house to Morgan Creek. “We need to cross right there. But heads up. There’s usually an old woman around.”
Pud ran straight to the water. Ben wanted to yell, though he held back, sure Mrs. Beauregard would hear—if she hadn’t seen the little animal scampering through her backyard already. They could have gone to the bridge. It was three blocks away. He wanted to be covert, though.
“Oh, my goodness!” Mrs. Beauregard wailed. She was crouching on her knees, pulling dandelions from her strawberries, and Ben had almost tripped over her. “What the dickens are you doing!”
She stood to her full four feet nine inches and peered at him from under a wide-brimmed, straw sunhat. Her flowered apron bulged at the waistline, the result of few missed meals.
“Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Beauregard. Just passing through. Gonna cross the creek to my parent’s place.”
“What! Why do you need to cross the creek? Don’t you know this is private property? Why don’t you go to the bridge? That’s what adults do. Cross the creek, indeed. I expect that kind of foolishness from kids, but you’re a grown man. What’s wrong with you?”
Ben had no a
nswer. He peered behind the elderly woman, wondering where the heck Pud had run off to. He didn’t have to wonder long.
“What the…what is that!” she snatched a shovel from the dirt and smashed it on the ground. It rang with a resonant chime but missed Pud. He darted through her feet, running behind one of Ben’s legs.
“Land o' Goshen! It’s a raccoon!” she adjusted her round, oversized glasses. “Or a possum!” she squinted. “What is that thing!”
She again let the shovel fall, aiming at Ben’s ankle. He stepped away. The weight and momentum of the garden tool made her collapse. Her dress flew up, exposing a pair of baggy, white knickers. Ben searched for Pud and didn’t find him anywhere. Then he heard a horrified Screech! and right away knew what had happened.
“HELP!” Mrs. Beauregard was on her stomach in the groomed grass. Pud sat on her shoulders. “It’s got me! HELP!”
Pud snatched the lady’s hat off her head. With it came a mass of hair—a wig. He puzzled at the clump of gray in his hand, at the lady’s balding scalp, again at his hand, and started to yell right along with her. Ben wanted to scream, too.
“You little beast!” she got up and clutched at her unkempt mop, tap dancing around Pud.
He dodged to avoid her attempts at stomping on him, waving the wig like it was a rabid squirrel.
“Oh! Oh! I’m calling the police! That’s what I’m going to do!” she ran on her tiptoes to her back porch, knocking over vegetable planters, running into bird houses, hitting hanging flower baskets. “Harry! Harry! Where’s the phone!”
“Come on!” Ben sprinted to the end of the yard and vaulted over the cedar fence. Pud caught and overtook him, splashing into the creek with abandon.
They made it across and climbed up the bank to Pleasant Avenue, a quaint road populated by unassuming dwellings and yards filled with large, dignified timbers.
With Pud close behind, Ben sprinted to a white, two-story bungalow displaying a graceful, pillared veranda and freshly whitewashed picket fence. His parent’s house.
“I hope my lab equipment’s still intact,” he hunted under a terracotta flowerpot and found the key. “My parents are on another trip, so I took the liberty of setting up a few things.”
Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear Page 30
