Lea 3-Book Collection

by Lisa Yee

  As I slowly submerged my head into the water, I relished the sudden silence, punctuated only by the sound of me breathing through the snorkel. I sounded like Darth Vader, only I bet that he never got to go snorkeling! I looked around and swam, taking pictures of the coral where the reefs came up near the surface. It was like a whole new world, like outer space, only here on earth. I felt like an explorer.

  Paloma swam up to me, with Zac and Camila close behind, and motioned for me to follow her. The sun illuminated the ocean, casting a golden glow through the water. Bright green plants gently swayed as a school of silver fish darted past, and colorful coral walls rose and fell like a roller coaster. Then we rounded a bend, and my breath caught in my throat.

  It was a shipwreck—a real shipwreck!

  It looked like something out of a pirate movie. It was about the length of two school buses and had lodged itself just beneath the surface of the water on a coral reef. I swam faster, my camera leading the way. If I didn’t take pictures, no one at home would believe me! At first, I thought the ship looked strangely fuzzy, but upon closer inspection I could see that barnacles and moss had grown on its surface. Fish swam in and out of the portholes. I took photo after photo, until Paloma motioned for all of us to surface.

  “Amazing,” Zac said. “Lea, are you getting pictures of this?”

  I held up my camera. “It’s all here,” I said. I couldn’t wait to post photos to my blog and tell my class back home all about seeing the shipwreck!

  “You can swim around, but not inside,” Paloma reminded us.

  I gave Paloma a thumbs-up, and then swam over to the other side of the wreck. A school of bright yellow fish swam slowly past, and as I began taking shots, a giant sea turtle suddenly appeared in my view, gliding majestically through the sunlit water. It was almost as big as I was. I gasped with excitement—wondering if I should try to follow it, fumbling as salt water seeped into my mouthpiece, and then—I dropped my camera.

  I reached for it, but it was already below my feet. My heart turned over as I watched my camera—my camera from Ama with all my Brazil photos on it—fall slowly through the water and out of my reach. A cloud of small fish darted away from a pile of rusted chain where they had been hiding as my camera came to rest on the hull of the ship.

  I began to chide myself. The camera had a cord for my wrist—why hadn’t I used it? If I had, it wouldn’t have slipped from my hands. In my haste to get into the water, I had completely forgotten about it.

  I lifted my head out of the water and could see Camila’s and Paloma’s snorkels bobbing up and down as they swam on the other side of the ship.

  Zac waved to me. “Everything okay, Lea?” he called out.

  As I treaded water, I was about to ask him for help, but stopped. This was something I needed to do myself. I waved back, and then I took a big gulp of air and dove toward the ship’s hull.

  I remembered what Paloma had taught me and blew air through my snorkel as I sank deeper, sending a stream of bubbles above me. My camera was in clear sight. But before I could get to it, my lungs began to burn—my breath was running out. In a panic, I used my fins to propel me back to the top, amazed by how quickly I could swim with them when I needed to.

  When I got to the surface, my snorkel was filled with water. I spit it out of my mouth, gasping for air. Then I turned over, panting and shaken, and floated on my back to take a rest.

  I had never tried snorkeling underwater, and I hadn’t been sure I would be able to. As I floated, I thought again of the turtle. It was so graceful and at home in the water—yet at one time it had been a hatchling, struggling to make its way across the sand. Against all odds, it had not only made it to the sea, it had survived and grown to become the awe-inspiring creature I had seen.

  I took another deep breath and dove down to the bottom, determined not to surface without my camera. But once more, I came up empty-handed. Again I rested, and again I tried, this time getting closer. Finally, I filled my lungs with air and swam down slowly and steadily using long, strong strokes. My fingertips touched the camera—and then with a sure hand, I grasped it tightly and propelled myself upward.

  When I broke through to the surface, squinting in the bright sunlight, I saw my brother grinning at me. Had he been watching the whole time?

  “Lea to the rescue!” he called to me. “Ama would have been proud.”

  I grinned and gave him a thumbs-up before slipping the camera’s strap around my wrist.

  t was our last morning in Praia Tropical. Zac had gone off to spend a little more time with Paloma while Mom, Dad, and I ate breakfast at the hotel’s quaint coffee shop overlooking the ocean. I was excited to visit Zac’s host family in the rainforest, but sad that I would have to say good-bye to Camila—and the ocean. That’s when I remembered that the Queen of the Sea festival was today.

  “So, what time are we leaving?” I asked, keeping my fingers crossed that there would be time to go to the festival with Camila.

  Mom and Dad shared a look and then turned to me. “Actually,” Mom said, “your father and I have been talking. And we’ve decided that it would be too difficult for us to go to the rainforest.”

  My face fell. “You mean our vacation is over?”

  “No,” said Dad. “You’re still going to the rainforest. Your mom and I will stay here in Praia Tropical.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Is this because of Dad’s leg?”

  Mom nodded and pointed to Dad’s full-leg cast. “The leg is badly broken, which will make traveling around the rainforest very difficult.”

  I felt terrible. After all, exploring the cliffs had been my idea. I started to apologize, but Dad interrupted me. “Lea, I wanted to go hiking and exploring as much as you did. And if it weren’t for your smart thinking, I might still be out there on that ledge.”

  Mom nodded. “Zac sat down with us this morning and told us everything. And when we told him that we were thinking about cutting our trip short, he convinced us to let you go alone with him to the rainforest while your father heals and gets used to walking with crutches here in Praia Tropical.”

  “He did?” I could hardly believe it. “Zac, my brother?”

  Dad smiled. “Yes, that Zac. He said you were old enough.”

  Mom looked serious, though. “We’ve all noticed how brave you’ve become.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand, her eyes misty. “Didn’t I tell you that you have Ama’s spark? You just had to find it within yourself. What did she always say? ‘Travel and test—’”

  “When you travel, test yourself. You’ll never regret it.” I smiled. “Mom, you tested yourself, too,” I reminded her. “You went surfing!”

  “That I did,” my mother said. “And do you know who inspired me?”

  I shook my head.

  “You!” she said.

  Dad raised his glass of orange juice. “To Lea—and Ama!”

  “To Ama!” Mom and I chimed in.

  My grandmother was right. I had tested myself—and I had no regrets.

  Soon after we finished breakfast, Zac returned to the hotel. “We’d better hurry if we want to get to the Queen of the Sea festival before we leave for the airport,” he said, giving me a wink. He must have known that Mom and Dad had just told me that he and I would be going on our own to the rainforest. “Come on, Paloma and Camila are waiting for us at Moda Praia.”

  I grinned and picked up my camera.

  As Zac and I walked toward town, celebration was everywhere. Musicians lined the streets, their melodies and rhythms filling the air as festivalgoers made their way toward the statue. Zac and I were both deep in thought. Just a few days ago we might have been joking, or fighting, or getting on each other’s nerves. But this morning, we walked together in contented silence.

  When we arrived at the store, Camila hurried up to me. She was wearing the colorful dress I had first seen in her store. I had been so busy that I had almost forgotten about it. I glanced around the store and
saw that they had sold out of the dresses. I was disappointed, but reminded myself that it was just a dress and that I had something even better to take home with me: my memories of my trip to Praia Tropical—and all of my photos, too.

  “We should go,” Paloma said. “The festival has already started.”

  “Wait,” Camila said, running behind the counter to grab a package. “This is for you, Lea.” She handed me a Moda Praia box tied with an orange ribbon. “Open it!”

  I undid the bow, and my heart leaped when I saw what was inside—the dress! I threw my arms around Camila, and thanked her and Senhora Cavalcante.

  “Try it on!” Paloma said, pulling back the curtain to the dressing room.

  I grinned and stepped inside before Paloma pulled the curtain closed. I quickly slipped on the dress and looked in the mirror. As I admired the cheerful colors, I felt a wave of joy rush through me. I centered Ama’s compass over my heart and opened the curtain.

  “It fits you perfectly!” Camila said, clapping.

  I gave a curtsy as Zac and Paloma joined in the applause. Then I thanked Senhora Cavalcante once more, and followed the group outside.

  The cobblestone streets were already crowded with families, couples, tourists, and locals. The small town had swelled with all the people who had come to pay homage to the Queen of the Sea. Food carts sold light-colored sweets to match Yemanjá’s white dress, such as honeyed rice and sweet corn pudding. Camila and I shared a sweet coconut milk jelly called manjar branco, while Zac and Paloma munched on puffed rice. Most people were wearing all white or a light blue—Yemanjá’s colors, Camila told me, adjusting the white and blue flowers in her arms that she had brought as a gift for Yemanjá. That’s when I realized that I had completely forgotten to bring a gift for the Queen of the Sea.

  We finally arrived at the mermaid statue. Revelers danced to the beat of the drums and laid their offerings at the base of the shrine, which glistened as the sun reflected in the shards of blue tiles. I looked up at the Queen of the Sea, reigning over the crowd with her long flowing hair and serene presence. She was the loveliest mermaid I could imagine. Paloma had brought her a small bottle of perfume. How I wished I had brought something worthy of her to give.

  “Come dance!” Paloma shouted over the sounds of the festival as she and Camila started moving to the beat. They held out their hands to us.

  Zac and I looked at each other. Neither of us was very good at dancing. But the energy of the music was infectious, and before we knew it, the girl and boy from St. Louis, Missouri, were dancing along with the people of Bahia, paying homage to the Queen of the Sea.

  I bounced up and down, doing my awkward version of dancing. Some of the kids at school say that I dance like a kangaroo. But I was having so much fun I didn’t care.

  I shouted over the music, “Camila, the next time you visit your relatives in Chicago, you should come see me in St. Louis!”

  “Is Chicago far from St. Louis?” she asked.

  “Not really. It’s just down the road about three hundred miles. It’s practically next door!”

  “Maybe I could come, then,” Camila said. “I’ll ask my parents.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out two bright pink ribbons. “For friendship,” she said as she tied one around my wrist with three knots, while I made a wish for Camila to visit me in St. Louis. Then Camila extended her arm toward me. “Now, you tie one on my wrist,” she said.

  “Um, dois, três,” I said, counting in Portuguese as I tied each knot.

  All of a sudden a loud bell rang, and the crowd cheered.

  “What does that mean?” I asked Camila.

  “I’ll show you,” she shouted. “Come with me!”

  Zac, Paloma, and I followed her down to the sandy shore. Boats were lined up in a row as if standing at attention and waiting for their orders. Camila pointed at a line of fishermen carrying baskets overflowing with gifts. “They will deliver these offerings to Yemanjá,” she explained. “Remember, if the baskets and gifts sink, it means that she has accepted them—and in return, she promises good luck for the coming year.”

  If only Ama were with me, I thought as I ran my finger around the face of the compass. She would have thought to bring something special for Yemanjá. But what offering could I give?

  As the first boats headed out to sea, I could hear my grandmother saying, “Lea, when you visit a place, you don’t just take—you leave something behind.”

  “Wait, stop. Pare!” I shouted, waving at the fishermen. “Pare! Stop!” I ran toward the water and kicked off my shoes.

  “Lea, where are you going?” Zac shouted.

  “Lea!” Camila cried. “Come back!”

  I splashed into the water, chasing after a fisherman with leathery skin and kind eyes. He had just lifted his basket of gifts onto his boat and was about to set sail.

  “Are you crazy?” Zac called to me over the water. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t worry,” I called back. “I won’t be long.” I tugged on the fisherman’s shirt. He turned with a confused look on his face.

  In that moment, it seemed as if the sound of the music and chatter from the crowds stopped—and the ocean had never looked so beautiful. Slowly, I lifted Ama’s compass necklace from around my neck.

  “For Yemanjá,” I said, motioning to the statue on the shore. “This is for her.” I took one last look at the compass, kissed it, and then gently placed it in his basket.

  The fisherman nodded solemnly.

  “Obrigada,” I said, smiling at him. And suddenly it was as if the volume came back on. Cheers filled the air as the boats set sail.

  My face was wet, and I realized that tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  I felt someone place a hand on my shoulder. It was Zac, who had waded into the water. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Instead, we stood side by side and watched the last boat head out to sea.

  Special thanks to Julie Kline, founder of the Américas Award for Children’s and Young Adult Literature; and Nola Senna, Director, Undergraduate Portuguese Language and Brazilian Studies, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

  For Kait

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Into the Amazon

  Chapter Two: Bem-Vinda!

  Chapter Three: A Surprise Snack

  Chapter Four: Meet the Family

  Chapter Five: Crazy Chicken

  Chapter Six: Attack of the Piranhas!

  Chapter Seven: Ant Mountain

  Chapter Eight: Night Cruise

  Chapter Nine: Wildlife Encounters

  Chapter Ten: A Fateful Discovery

  Chapter Eleven: Amanda

  Chapter Twelve: Wildlife Sanctuary

  Chapter Thirteen: A Difficult Debate

  Chapter Fourteen: A Gift

  Chapter Fifteen: The Flow of the River

  Chapter Sixteen: A Legacy

  Acknowledgments

  he airplane shuddered, sending a splash of water from my plastic cup onto my tray table. I pulled my seat belt a little tighter across my lap and listened as the pilot came onto the intercom and announced that we were experiencing a little turbulence. He assured us that we would begin our descent into Manaus shortly.

  My brother stirred awake and yawned. “Are we there yet?” he asked.

  “Soon, Zac,” I said. I wiped up the water with my napkin and returned to reading my grandmother’s travel journal.

  “What’s Ama up to now?” he asked, leaning over to take a peek.

  “She’s hiking through the woods in Alaska,” I told him.

  I loved reading about Ama’s travel adventures. It made me feel like I was along for the ride, like it was just the two of us together again—even though she passed away last year. She had been all over the world, and now here I was, exploring Brazil on my first international trip, far away from my hometown of St. Louis, Missouri.

  “I’m on my way to the Amazon, Ama,” I w
hispered, knowing how excited she would have been for me.

  “Did you say something, Lea?” Zac asked. He leaned over me to look out the airplane window.

  “Um, I said, ‘I’m happy to be going to the rainforest with you.’”

  “Ditto,” he said. He stretched his arms out, and his elbow just missed my face.

  “Watch it, Zac,” I said, pushing his arm away.

  “You’d better get used to close quarters,” Zac said with a grin. “I mean, the Barros family’s house is big enough, but it’s no mansion. Don’t worry, though—you’re going to love my host family. Marcos is a tour guide and knows the Amazon rainforest better than anyone, and Olivia is a second-grade teacher. And wait until you meet Tomás! He reminds me a lot of you when you were his age,” Zac said.

  I smiled, excited to be visiting the family Zac had been staying with during his college year abroad. We had spent the last week in a Brazilian beach town called Praia Tropical. I already missed the dazzling white beaches and the beautiful Atlantic Ocean—and I especially missed Camila, the new friend I had met there. After a week of getting to know each other and snorkeling and exploring together, it had been hard to say good-bye. I touched the wish bracelet she had given me. Its bright pink color symbolized friendship. I wished that our friendship would last forever.

  I took out my camera. “Want to see my photos of Praia Tropical?” I asked Zac.

  “Are there any of Paloma and me?” he asked.

  I smiled and handed over my camera.

  Zac skimmed over my photos of colorful tide pools and Mom surfing the turquoise waves. Then he stopped at a photo of a girl his age with wavy black hair and a big smile. She was posing next to her beach shack. Paloma is my friend Camila’s cousin, and she had taught me how to snorkel. Zac had a huge crush on her, and I couldn’t help giggling as he stared wistfully at the photo.

  Zac blushed and continued scrolling through the photos, pausing at a particularly dramatic image of Dad’s helicopter rescue. We had gotten lost hiking when my father slipped and tumbled down the side of a cliff. He landed on a rocky platform just out of our reach. It was the scariest moment of my life, but Ama’s compass inspired me to create a compass of my own—using my camera! Though it seemed like we were hopelessly lost, I was able to look at the photos I had taken during our hike and use the landmarks in the pictures to find our way back to town to get help.