by Will Taylor
“Did they ask who we were?” said Abby.
“Yes. I said we were tourists on a family trip.”
“And they believed that?” I eyed my mom’s purple scrubs and the oversize coats and sweaters the rest of us were wrapped in. We didn’t exactly look like tourists.
“I think so,” said my mom. “I told them we needed to do laundry and were down to our emergency backup outfits. Maybe they bought it, I don’t know. Most doctors are used to seeing unusual things.”
“This is the quietest hospital I’ve ever been in,” said Kelly.
“I know—it’s weird, isn’t it?” said my mom. “But it’s also the biggest one for miles. ‘For half the size of Texas’ one of the doctors told me, whatever that means. It’s downright tiny compared to what I’m used to, but if they make Joe better, then it’s the best hospital in the world.”
“Did you tell them about the moose?” I asked. Before everyone quieted down we’d been debating whether our rescuer had been an actual ghost moose or just a friendly real one. Mark said it was probably a real one, since we’d been able to hear it walking on the rocks, and I’d had to admit I could smell it. But Abby kept pointing out how it had been there one minute and gone the next as soon as we reached town, and no one could come up with an answer for that.
My mom nodded. “I mentioned it, but the nurses insisted they don’t have moose up here this time of year.”
“Ha! See?” said Abby, waving Creepy Frog in triumph.
“Maybe they don’t,” said Kelly, “but we do.” Abby high-fived her.
“What happens now?” asked Matt. “If Joe’s gonna be okay, should we all just head home?”
“Definitely,” said my mom. “I’m exhausted, and I don’t even want to think what’s going on back at my hospital. My shift was almost over when you came to get me, but Kelly’s supposed to be in her room and we’ve been gone for hours and hours. . . .”
“I locked the door and turned off the lights,” I said. “We thought that might help.”
“Yeah, I saw that when I went back for those pain meds for Joe. And it might, if I can convince my colleagues we were telling ghost stories or holding a séance or something.” Kelly giggled. My mom ran a hand over her eyes. “But what I don’t see is how we’re going to get home anytime soon. Even with the sun coming up, it’s a long drive back to the cabin.”
“Dude! If only we had a token with us,” said Abby, slapping the sofa. “There are plenty of pillows. We could have built a fort and linked straight home from here.”
“Why didn’t we think of that before?” I said. I was off my game. Keeping an emergency backup token around should have been obvious.
“Hey, so I’m not sure I get what you two are saying,” said Mark, “but is there a chance you’re wishing for something like this?” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out . . . our map of Camp Pillow Fort.
Abby and I stared at him.
“What?!”
“Where did you get that?”
“I picked it up in Maggie’s fort earlier,” said Mark. “I thought a map might come in handy during a rescue mission.”
“That is seriously good thinking!” said Abby. “All right, let’s get to work.”
We didn’t need a fancy fort, and after a quick planning meeting run by Kelly, who was the only one with experience building forts in hospitals, we settled on a simple half circle of pillows around one of the sofas. Abby threw her blanket over the top, Matt placed the map inside, and just to be safe we all counted to ten.
“Is that it?” asked Matt.
“That’s it,” I said.
“You’re not scared it might have accidentally linked to a laser-eyed wild boar reserve or something, Mags?” asked Abby, elbowing me.
“Ha! You’re funny.” I elbowed her back. She was teasing, but it was nice to realize that I actually wasn’t expecting things to go wrong here. For the first time in a while I was pretty certain everything was going to turn out all right.
“It should be good to go,” I said. “Who’s first?”
“Kelly first,” said my mom. “Then me.”
“Cool. Okay, Kelly, off you— Aaah!”
I wasn’t the only one who yelled as a loud clamoring suddenly erupted inside the fort. It sounded like a roomful of people having an argument. One voice rose above the others.
“I’m dealing with it. I am dealing with it!”
We all jumped back as a sandy-haired kid wearing silver sunglasses materialized out of the brand-new entrance.
“What—!”
“How—?”
“Murray!?”
“Oh, it is you,” said Murray, pushing his shoulders through the gap and propping himself up on his elbows. “It’s wonderful to see you, Maggie, but honestly, would you please stop breaking every rule we have? Building new forts, adding links left and right, telling adults? I know you’ve declared an official emergency, but you are becoming a total menace.”
My mouth was hanging open.
“But, but we only just built— How did you find—?”
“How did I find you?” Murray said. “I’m Captain of the Northern and Arctic Alliance! You’re on my turf. And causing a lot of confusion among my membership, I might add. They think we’re being invaded, eh?”
“Maggie,” said my mom, “who is this boy? And why is he wearing sunglasses at night?”
“Um, everyone, this is Murray,” I said. “He’s head of the pillow fort networks for this area and on the Council of NAFAFA. They all wear silver sunglasses.”
“What on earth is the Council of Nuh-foo-foo?” asked Matt.
“They’re the ones who messed up our homes,” said Abby. She was glaring at Murray. “They deliberately got us in trouble just because we weren’t following the rules of their silly club.”
I looked at Abby in surprise. She’d been all excited about joining NAFAFA before. Maybe those hours of backbreaking work in the rat-infested alley had changed her mind.
“Hey, hey, hey,” said Murray. “There’s no need to go insulting NAFAFA. You’re talking about one of the most respected pillow fort organizations in the world.”
“Really?” said Mark.
“It is actually pretty cool,” I said, “and historical. Marilyn Monroe and Aretha Franklin were members.”
“Don’t forget Alex Trebek,” said Murray.
“He’s Canadian, you know,” I told the others.
“Neat,” said Matt.
“This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever been a part of,” said my mom.
Murray gave a sudden start. “Oop! Hang on, someone’s got my foot.” He disappeared into the fort, then stuck his head out again. “A friend wants to say hi, Maggie.”
He retreated, and the head and shoulders of another boy appeared in the link.
“Hi! Maggie! Maggie-Maggie-Maggie!”
“Bobby,” I said, grinning. “Good to see you.”
“You too!” Bobby reached out and grasped my hands. “How have you been? Murray says you’ve been breaking rules and having adventures! Everyone’s been talking about it.”
“Really?”
“Really!” He smiled around at the others. “Hi, Maggie’s people! I’m Bobby!” Everyone waved and said hi back. “You all know Maggie’s a superstar, right?” he went on. “Because she is. She’s brave and curious and wonderful, and you’re so, so lucky to have her as your leader.”
Abby made a high-pitched noise in her throat and gripped my arm. The others all turned to me, beaming. Bobby was still holding my hands. My face burned hotter than the roof tiles at noon.
“Everyone already knows that!” called a muffled voice from inside the makeshift fort. Abby made the noise again and squeezed my arm tighter as Murray pushed his way in beside Bobby. “I mean you do, right?” he asked, flashing his sunglasses at the group.
“Obviously,” said Abby. The twins grinned. Kelly and my mom patted me on the back.
Oh, my woolly mammoth. I had to put a
stop to this.
“What exactly do you want, Murray?” I said. “We’re kind of in a hurry here.”
“Ah! You’re busy with business!” said Bobby, releasing my hands. “I’ll get out of the way, then. I just had to come say hello. So Hello! And Good-bye! Good-bye, Maggie, and Maggie’s people! See you all soon!” And blowing kisses to each of us in turn, he backed into the fort and disappeared.
There was an outbreak of giggling. I kept my focus on Murray, flatly refusing to catch Abby’s eye.
“Okay, yes, business,” Murray said. He cleared his throat. “Now that I’ve made sure it’s you, the reason I’m here is to tell you that given the, well, mess you two have made of the NAFAFA application process, the Council has decided to cut your trial period short. Your time’s up, and we’re voting tomorrow. Or later today, I guess, if you want to get technical.”
“What?!” Abby said.
“You can’t do that!”
“I’m really sorry, Maggie,” said Murray, and he looked like he meant it, “but we can. There’s a lot going on with the Council right now, what with Noriko aging out next month, and to be honest, we just want this over.”
“We’re going to get in, though, right?” I said. “We rescued Uncle Joe! That should be more than enough.”
“It should be,” said Murray. “But we’ll have to wait and see. If your official emergency really is finished, the best thing you can do now is get back where you belong and stay there.”
Samson, who’d been sleeping through all the excitement in his bundle of blankets, sat up and yawned, stretching luxuriously. He hopped down, sauntered over to the fort, and sniffed Murray’s face.
“Hello,” said Murray. “You’ll be the director of Camp Pillow Fort, eh? Do you have anything to say on behalf of your network?”
Samson head-butted Murray’s chin and pushed past him into the fort.
“That means he likes you,” said Abby.
“Sorry, did you say ‘director’?” asked my mom.
“Samson’s the director of our network,” I said. “He won the vote.”
“And that’s causing all sorts of other problems,” said Murray. “Ben keeps pointing out that according to the NAFAFA charter, Council seats have to be held by the highest-ranking member of each regional group, which means if you all get voted in the seat is technically Samson’s. And that’s just not going to work. Not only is Miesha super allergic to cats, but where exactly are we supposed to find sunglasses that would fit his little kitty face?”
That got a happy laugh from Kelly, but her laugh turned into a cough, and my mom instantly snapped into doctor mode.
“Okay, kids,” she said, clapping her hands, “no more nonsense. I’m taking Kelly back to her room right now, and I mean now. Murphy, or whatever your name is, you do not want to be in my way here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Murray. “I’ve got places to be too.” He lowered his sunglasses and looked at me. “Maggie, I don’t know what’s going to happen with the Council, but one way or another you’ll hear from us sometime tomorrow morning, west coast time. For now, I’m counting on you to please get everyone back where they’re supposed to be. And make sure you close this fort off after you.”
“Got it.”
“See you soon, I hope.” Murray waved good-bye and started backing up, then stopped. He seemed to be struggling with himself. Before I could ask what was wrong, he raised a hand and blew a kiss right to me—and only me—turned fire engine red, and vanished into the fort.
Abby made the noise again.
One by one we headed back, first Kelly, then my mom, then Abby. I held out a hand for Matt to go ahead of me and got one of his dazzling smiles in return.
“Thanks for letting me tag along, Maggie,” he said. “This was fun. Things are pretty awesome when you’re in charge.”
“Shmer, fenny lime!” I said casually. Matt winked and followed Abby, who was directing Mark back home.
I came through last with the map, pulling the pillow shut behind me and closing the door on a long and extremely weird day.
“I wonder what the doctors will think when they can’t find us and there’s just this random empty fort in the waiting room,” I said.
Abby shrugged. “Probably the same thing they were thinking when we turned up: that we’re one complete bunch of cantaloupes.”
We were both tired beyond tired, so after helping me stuff all the blankets and jackets back through to Uncle Joe’s, Abby headed off to bed. I climbed onto my sofa bunk, yawned, and took one last look around at Fort McForterson’s quiet links. So much was about to change. Even if the Council voted us in, my mom was involved now, and Alex would probably find out soon too, and what would that mean for our secret club? And if the Council voted to shut us down, right when things were getting good, well . . . we’d just have to cross that bridge when we came to it.
I yawned again, feeling like Samson, and finally, finally, finally drifted off to sleep.
Twenty-Four
I woke up late the next morning, stumbled groggily into the kitchen, and found myself face-to-face with something I hadn’t seen in years: my mom, wearing a bathrobe, cooking breakfast.
“Morning,” she said, poking at the frying pan. “I took the day off.”
I gaped at her. She might as well have told me she’d decided to become a moose.
Over a breakfast of lumpy pancakes, she filled me in on what happened when she and Kelly got back to the hospital the night before. Apparently Kelly had taken charge of the whole thing, telling the nurses how she and my mom had been reading the most amazing book about time-traveling cats and how it was so good she had absolutely positively refused to let my mom stop reading until it was over. Kelly had been extremely convincing, and everyone had decided my mom was a first-class physician for spending so much time with one patient, and somehow, miraculously, everything was okay.
We were sitting around the counter drinking orange juice and ignoring the dishes when there was a knock at the back door. It was Abby, looking happy, and Alex, carrying an enormous pan of cinnamon rolls.
“Morning,” said Alex, setting the pan on the counter. “Sorry for just dropping by like this, Karen. I brought some treats.”
“Hi, Alex,” said my mom. “It’s fine. And thank you!”
“Maggie,” said Alex, “I was hoping to have a private talk with your mom. Would you and Abby mind giving us some space for a bit?”
I looked to my mom, who nodded, so Abby and I helped ourselves to cinnamon rolls and clambered up on the roof.
“So, what happened with your dad?” I asked, turning my back on the pine tree and diving into the frosting. Holy turtle poop, it was good. It was the greatest thing I’d had since guacamole lasagna.
“He was waiting up,” said Abby. “I thought he would be really mad, but he said when he got back from his date and all of us were gone he knew we must be together, and that meant we were safe. He still wanted a complete explanation of where we’d been, though.”
“Whoa! What did you tell him?”
“Everything. Well, the twins did. Matt explained how I couldn’t say anything now that the emergency was over, not without getting us all in trouble with the Council, so they told him as much as they knew.”
I wiped some frosting off my chin. “And did he believe them?”
“He went really quiet and sort of thought for a while, then he said he wanted to sleep on it. But this morning when I woke up he didn’t even mention it. He just called me into the kitchen and asked if I wanted to help him try out this new cinnamon roll recipe he got from Tamal.”
“I think I might be in love with Tamal,” I said, shoving another piece of cinnamon roll into my mouth.
“Aww, poor Murray,” Abby said.
I elbowed her in the ribs.
“So you’re not in trouble with your dad anymore, then? Everything’s all right?”
“Yup,” said Abby. “While we were making the cinnamon rolls, he told me he’d r
ather believe his kids were telling the truth. And anyway, it was a great story and he really hoped it was true.” She looked around. “Okay, I’m going to need a napkin here.”
Alex came out the back door as we were climbing down off the roof.
“Have a good day, kids,” he called. “Sounds like you’ll be hanging out here for a while. Bring the pan back when you come home, okay, Abby?”
Abby gave a sticky thumbs-up. Back in the kitchen my mom was wolfing down a cinnamon roll of her own.
“Oh, my purple scrubs,” she said with her mouth full. “These are incredible!”
“Right?” I said. “What did you and Alex talk about?”
She swallowed. “Mr. Hernandez wanted to check in with me about what happened last night. It sounds like he knew a bit already from the boys, but he still had a lot of questions.”
“And you answered them?”
“I told him the truth, yes.”
Ugh. The idea of our parents talking about the forts on their own made me incredibly nervous. They didn’t know enough. What if they jumped to some weird, grown-up conclusions about what should happen next? What if they decided they should take the forts away from us? Or worse, what if they wanted to get involved?
“So . . . what do you think?” I asked, bracing for the worst.
“I think I really need this cinnamon roll recipe,” said my mom, turning her attention back to her plate.
Abby looked over at the clock and nudged me. “When do you think we’ll hear from the Council? I wish they’d just let us know already and get it over with.”
“I haven’t checked my fort for messages since you got here,” I said. “Maybe they already have.”
But there were no silver envelopes or Council members waiting for us in Fort McForterson, just Samson stretched out in the link between our houses, purring like he didn’t have a care in the world.
The phone in the kitchen blared. My mom answered it, and I heard her let out a whoop.
