by Lisa Yee
“I think we’re lost,” I said finally.
Zac and Dad didn’t seem to hear. They kept pushing ahead.
“Um, excuse me?” I called to them.
“What?” Zac said sharply.
His tone surprised me, and I flinched. “We’re lost,” I said quietly.
Zac looked irritated. “Don’t you think we know that?”
“Zac—” Dad warned. “Wait! I think I see…” His voice trailed off as he pushed through some low palm leaves. “Yes! Behold, the ocean!”
We stood several feet from the edge of the cliff, and we could see the wide expanse of ocean before us.
“I don’t see the beach,” Dad said, scratching his chin. “We must be quite a ways farther along the cliff from where we stopped before. Zac, did you bring your phone?”
He shook his head. “I left it at the hotel.”
“You left it at the hotel?” I exclaimed. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that we’d just be taking a short walk. But then we went on this crazy hike. It’s not my fault we’re lost.”
“All right, let’s stay calm,” Dad said.
Zac and I both snapped our mouths shut.
Dad took a deep breath and squinted past us. “We know where the ocean is, so we’re not lost. It’s just the trail that’s lost,” he said with a rueful smile. “But I think if we just follow the edge of the cliff—” He took a step forward, and the rocks beneath his feet shifted.
Before we knew what was happening, he had disappeared over the side of the cliff.
nstinctively, I started toward the cliff’s edge. “Wait—stop!” Zac ordered, grabbing my arm.
“Dad! Dad!” I cried. I had never felt so scared in my entire life. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and my legs could barely hold me up.
Just then we heard it, the most glorious sound I had ever heard—
“Owww!”
Dad was alive!
“Dad!” I called. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, not really,” Dad said. “My sunglasses are broken. Oh, and my leg, too.”
I could tell that he was trying to make a joke, but his voice sounded shaky.
Cautiously, Zac made his way toward the edge and peered over the side. I inched forward, too, keeping a good distance from the cliff’s edge. I could see that Dad had landed on a rock ledge about ten feet below us.
He lay on his side, wincing as he tried to sit up. Then he shook his head at Zac. “I’m not going to be able to get back up there myself.”
“I’ll go for help,” Zac called. “Lea will stay here with you.”
“No!” Dad ordered. “You two stay together.” He patted his vest. “I’ve got water and snacks, so I’ll be fine.” He gave us a brave smile, but he looked pale and small all alone on the rock ledge, with the vast ocean below.
“I can go faster without her,” said Zac.
“Zac!” I yelled. “I’m not going to hold you back.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”
“Dad,” I called, “you’re going to be okay, I promise.”
“See?” Zac said, as he marched down a path. I had to run to keep up with him. “If you hadn’t made us go on this crazy hike…”
What? He was blaming me?
“I didn’t make you do anything,” I told him. “Besides, you’re the one who went off the trail to climb rocks.”
Zac raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so now it’s my fault that Dad’s in danger and we’re hopelessly lost? If you hadn’t taken that picture of me—”
“What difference did that make?” I interrupted. “And here I thought we were finally having fun, like we used to…”
We both fell silent as we continued trudging through the trees. The trail, however, was nowhere to be found.
“This way,” Zac said, turning right around a rotted tree stump.
“We just went that way. I recognize that stump. Let’s look over here.” I pointed to a clearing ahead.
“We’ve been that way already,” he snapped. “It’s a dead end.”
“You don’t know that,” I shot back. “You just refuse to do anything that isn’t your idea.”
“That’s not the point,” he argued. “Look, I know what I’m doing. And you’re just a kid.”
I stopped in my tracks. So there it was. He had said what he thought of me: I was just a kid.
He opened his mouth to say something, and then seemed to think better of it and kept walking. Zac’s words echoed in my head—you’re just a kid…you’re just a kid.
My eyes filled with tears. I was so worried about Dad. I wished Ama were here to wrap me in her arms and tell me everything was okay, just like that day I fell into the lake at Mark Twain State Park. I thought about what she had told me as she wiped my tears away. “You’re capable of more than you know.”
I closed my eyes and gripped Ama’s compass, wishing it could help me now. But our problem wasn’t knowing which direction to go in; our problem was finding a trail that could take us back down the cliff to civilization. And the compass couldn’t help us with that.
Ahead of me, Zac was making his way around a rock formation. As I followed, something about the rock looked familiar. I squinted at it, and recognized the face I’d noticed when I had taken the action shot of Zac leaping off it. I closed my eyes against the sting of tears.
How I wished we were back to that moment, all of us laughing and getting along—
My eyes flashed open. I did have a way to go back to that moment.
“Hey, Zac, I think I might know how to find our way out of here,” I called.
“Oh yeah?” Zac stopped. “What’s your brilliant idea?”
Ignoring his sarcasm, I held up my camera.
“Yes, I see you have a camera,” Zac said, throwing his hands up. “Cricket, this is no time for jokes.”
“Listen to me,” I said urgently. “This can show us the way.” Zac frowned skeptically, but I could tell he was curious. “Look—that’s the rock you jumped from,” I said, pointing.
“How can you be sure?” Zac asked.
“Because I can see it right here!” I held up my camera to show him. “I’ve been taking photos our entire hike. All we have to do is look at the photos and find the landmarks in them, and we can backtrack our way down until we’re back on the trail. Look here,” I said, pointing at a bush up ahead. “That’s where I took this picture.” I showed him the photo I’d taken of a bush with bright red flowers.
Zac’s face softened. He shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, we’ll give it a try. Lead on, Captain.”
At least he wasn’t calling me Cricket. Together, we found the tree with hanging pods that Zac had swung from like a monkey, and then the tangle of vines where Dad had pretended to be trapped, and finally the spot overlooking the ocean where we had stopped with Dad just an hour earlier. From there we were able to find the path and follow it back to the beach.
We jogged down the shore until we reached Paloma’s beach shack. It was very hot and we should have been exhausted, but our bodies were running on adrenaline. In the distance I could see Camila helping Paloma organize the snorkel gear. We shouted and ran toward them.
Zac spoke quickly in Portuguese, and Paloma ran into the beach shack to get her cell phone and started making calls. Within ten minutes, a rescue team had mobilized.
“We need to find my mother,” I told Paloma. “She was taking a surfing lesson at the beach near our hotel.”
“Then I know where she is,” Paloma said. “You go with Zac. I will find her.”
“Lea can take us to our father,” Zac announced to the rescue team first in English, then in Portuguese. He turned to me and we locked eyes. “You lead. We’ll follow.”
I touched Ama’s compass. “Okay, everyone—let’s go.”
There was no time to be tired or scared as we hiked back up the trail. Camila and Zac stayed with me stride for stride, followed by the rescue workers. No one spoke. We were all fo
cused on getting to Dad. Even after the main trail petered out, it wasn’t hard to see where Dad, Zac, and I had walked—we had sort of made a temporary trail of bent grass and broken branches. And I recognized most of the landmarks without even checking my camera.
At last, Zac pushed the brush away and we were at the precipice of the cliff. I looked down at the ledge. My father looked pretty beat up and tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Dad!” I called. “Dad, help is here!”
“Thank goodness,” he said, waving weakly to the group standing behind me.
I was too relieved to cry or laugh, so instead I hugged my brother, and he hugged me back. We kept our arms around each other as the rescue team rappelled down to my father.
Despite his pain, Dad kept the mood light, telling the rescuers things like “My kids were ignoring me, so I thought I’d do something dramatic to get their attention.”
I laughed loudly. Never had his dumb jokes seemed so hysterically funny.
Once the rescue workers reached my father, they realized it was far too dangerous for them to even attempt to carry him off the ledge and then down the cliff, so they radioed for help.
Meanwhile, I watched as the medics set Dad’s leg in a temporary splint.
“Is it broken?” I called down.
“Spectacularly broken!” Dad yelled back.
We could hear the helicopter before we could see it. It circled above us just like in the movies—only instead of a medical helicopter, it was the tour helicopter! I took photos as the helicopter hovered and a harness was lowered on a rope to the ledge where my father was now sitting up. One of the rescue workers secured the harness around Dad, and then slowly he was raised into the helicopter. Camila explained that the local police and rescue teams used the tourist helicopter for emergencies like this one.
I raised my camera and snapped one last shot. Dad was finally getting his helicopter ride, and I was sure he’d want a souvenir photo.
The rescue workers took us on a faster route back down, since they knew the terrain and the shortcuts. Camila stayed close to my side the entire way, gripping my arm.
“It means a lot to me that you would come up to the cliffs to help us,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I know how you feel about heights. Obrigada.”
“Our friendship is stronger than my fear of heights,” Camila said. “Hey!” She held up our linked hands and pointed to my wrist. “It’s gone!”
“What’s gone?” I asked, confused.
“Your wish bracelet,” she said.
Sure enough, it had fallen off.
I met Camila’s eyes. She smiled.
“Orange, right?” she asked.
I nodded and smiled back. “For courage.”
Paloma met us on the path. Dad was already at a local hospital, and Mom was meeting him there. Senhora Cavalcante offered to drive us.
“Mom!” I cried, when I saw her in the waiting room. Zac and I both ran up and hugged her.
“How’s Dad?” Zac asked.
“He’s got a serious broken leg, and the doctors say that it’s a miracle nothing else is broken. But he’s going to be all right. I need to go give them some information,” Mom said, motioning to the reception desk. “You two are my heroes.”
Suddenly the weight of all that had happened hit me. I began to cry so hard that my shoulders shook and I couldn’t talk. Zac took me in his arms, and I buried my face in his shoulder as he hugged me.
“You were amazing,” my brother said. “Dad’s going to be okay because of your quick thinking. I should have had more faith in you. If there’s ever anything I can do to make it up to you, Cricket, just ask.”
We hugged for another minute or so; then I wiped away my tears on his shirt. “Well,” I said, “there is one thing.”
Zac got very serious. “What? Tell me. Anything.”
I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “You can stop calling me Cricket.”
He squinted in confusion. “But why? I’ve been calling you that ever since you were little. You used to love it!” He tried ruffling my hair, but I pulled away.
“Zac!” I said, my voice weary. “I’m not a little girl anymore, but you still treat me like one.”
He paused and then cracked a smile. “C’mon, we’re just having fun—”
I shook my head. “You don’t take me seriously.” Tears started to well in my eyes. I tried to blink them back. “You act like it’s a pain to hang out with me. I’ve waited months and months, and thought about you every day, Zac. I couldn’t wait to see you. And now you act like it’s no big deal that I’m here with you, and you’d rather be doing something else.”
Despite every effort not to, I began to cry again. And I couldn’t believe what happened next.
Zac’s eyes teared up. My big brother was crying.
“You’re wrong about not wanting to see you,” he said in a shaky voice. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you and Mom and Dad, so much. I love it here, but ever since Ama died, it’s been really hard to be so far away here in Brazil, when everyone I love is back home in St. Louis. I even considered cutting my year short and leaving Brazil early, I was so homesick.”
I stood stunned, not knowing what to do or say. I had never known Zac to be anything but super self-confident. I had no idea that he had been so homesick.
“I’m really sorry I got crabby and impatient with you,” Zac went on. “I guess you’re right—I do think of you as being the age you were when I left for college.” He shook his head. “You’re not seven anymore. I see that now.”
I nodded, my heart too full to speak.
“You’re strong and brave and smart. I’m really proud of you, Cricket.”
“Lea,” I corrected him with a smile.
“Right: Lea,” Zac said, as if he were trying it on for size. “Honored to meet you, Lea,” he said, sticking out his hand for a handshake. “I’ve heard great things about you.”
y the next day, everybody in the town of Praia Tropical was talking about the tourist who fell off the cliff and had to be rescued by helicopter. My father was famous—and so were my brother and I.
Everywhere we went, people shook our hands and asked Zac to share details. He retold the story so often that he began to embellish it, each time adding more drama and chaos. Even though he spoke in Portuguese, I could tell what Zac was saying by his wild gestures. But one thing remained consistent every time he told the story—he always said that it was his sister who had saved the day. “Minha irmã é minha heroína,” he’d say, throwing his arm around my shoulders. My sister is my hero. I always blushed with embarrassment, but I must admit it made me feel good inside.
What didn’t make me feel good was that Dad was still in the hospital. Although his leg didn’t require surgery, it was badly broken. Mom stayed with him, and encouraged Zac and me to go out and enjoy our last day at the beach.
“I have a surprise for you,” Zac told me as we walked barefoot along the shore.
“A surprise?” I asked.
Zac grinned and broke into a jog, waving over his shoulder. “C’mon!”
I ran after him, and soon we were racing each other, sprinting over the sand and making splashes in the warm water that washed onto shore.
I felt a rush of happiness. Things were finally back to normal between us—but it was a new normal. We had talked into the night, but it wasn’t like before, when I’d tell him things and he’d give me advice. It was more like a great conversation between friends. We talked about Zac’s host family in the rainforest, and I shared Ama’s travel journals. Together we looked at photos of our grandmother’s travels in Australia. I always make it a point to befriend the locals, Ama had written. They know all the best secret places to visit!
“Good advice, isn’t it, Zac?” I said. “After all, what if we hadn’t met Camila—and Paloma?” I added, giving him a nudge and grinning when he blushed.
By the time we neared Paloma’s beach shack, we were both out o
f breath and laughing. Paloma and Camila were lounging in the hammock, and waved hello as we approached.
“Are you ready?” Camila asked. She pointed to a beat-up red wooden boat tied to a stake in the sand and bobbing gently in the blue Bahia sea.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
I could hardly contain my excitement as Zac, Camila, and Paloma led me to the boat. Inside was a basket filled with cold drinks, cocadas, the chewy shredded coconut candy that I had grown to love, and coxinha, Zac’s favorite minced chicken croquettes.
Zac and Paloma whispered to each other as Camila looked on, smiling.
“Where are we going?” I asked as Zac held the boat steady so that Camila and I could climb in.
“To see something you’ve never seen before,” Camila replied. Her eyes were smiling. “That’s all I’m going to tell you.”
It took Paloma a couple of tries to start the ancient outboard motor, and then we were off. Our boat left a ribbon of white foam in its wake.
The boat began to slow as we neared a rocky bank surrounded by coconut palms with thick trunks. It looked like paradise. The warm sun blanketed us as a light breeze blew and the palm trees swayed lazily. I could hear the call of the seagulls, but what was really beckoning me was the water.
Paloma cut the engine and anchored near the shore as Zac passed out the snorkel gear that was piled in the boat.
“Here, Lea,” Zac said, handing me my mask.
“Obrigada,” I replied. I took off my compass necklace and handed it to Paloma. She knew how special it was to me and how I didn’t want anything to happen to it. She tucked the necklace away in the cooler for safekeeping.
By then I was practically an expert and slipped on my mask and snorkel without hesitation. I looked out at the ocean. A few days ago the water had made me nervous, and now here I was, eager to explore what was below its surface. With the fins firmly on my feet, I picked up my camera and jumped off the boat and into the ocean.
