by Lisa Yee
“We’re different from a zoo,” Erika said. “The animals that find their way here are sick or injured, so it’s our job to rehabilitate them and return them to the rainforest. Also, zoos often charge an admission to see the animals. Here, we rely on donations and fund-raisers to take care of the animals. I wish we could take in all the animals that need our help, but we can’t afford to. We don’t have the space, the staff, or the resources. Still, we do what we can with what we have.”
Suddenly, I heard Tomás squeal. He was so excited he almost dropped Macaco. Tomás stood at a window, watching as a volunteer tended to some kittens. But these weren’t just any kittens—they were margays! They were so cute with their spotted fur and huge brown eyes. I whipped out my camera. Soon, a staff person brought in the mother margay and let her tend to her babies. The mother’s fur was thick and plush, and she had spots like a leopard. Her babies snuggled close to her and started nursing.
“Margay sightings are very rare,” Erika told us. “To see one with her kittens is even rarer. These babies are a couple of weeks old and have just recently opened their eyes.”
“Why are they here?” I asked. “Were they in danger?”
“The mother was in distress when we discovered her,” Erika said. “It was a difficult birth, but we were able to assist and deliver healthy babies. They will all stay here while the mother recovers. When she’s better, we’ll release the family back into the wild.”
Tomás looked so happy as he admired the kittens through the window. The volunteer picked up one of the kittens and brought him closer for Tomás to see. Tomás touched the window and giggled as the kitten batted at his finger through the glass.
Soon enough, it was time to go. My heart was so heavy that it hurt. How could I possibly leave Amanda?
“Can we come back tomorrow?” I begged Zac. I was choking on my words, trying not to cry.
“Yes,” he said, giving me a hug. “Of course, Lea. We’ll come back.”
I noticed that Tomás was teary, too. We both took turns hugging and kissing Amanda, and then I set her down. As we headed for the truck, Tomás suddenly turned around and ran back toward the sanctuary.
“Tomás! Tomás, what are you doing?” I called out as I chased him. Was he going back to see the baby margays?
When I caught up with Tomás, he was kneeling over Amanda. He had given Macaco to her so that she wouldn’t be lonely, and she was hugging the stuffed monkey. When Tomás looked at me, I gave him a thumbs-up. Then, hand in hand, we walked to the truck where Zac was waiting for us.
hen we finally got back to the Barroses’ house, the sun was setting. Zac carried a sleeping Tomás inside, and Olivia put him to bed. When I looked at Amanda’s empty crate, my heart ached. Without Amanda snuggled next to me, it felt like a part of me was missing.
After dinner, I went to Tomás’s room. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but I knew that my classmates were waiting to get an update on Amanda on my blog. I logged on to my blog site and sure enough, everyone was asking about Amanda. I let them know that she was in good hands, but that her survival was uncertain.
Then, I reread Abby’s comment on my last post, the comment that had been bothering me:
Really, Lea? I can’t believe you took that sloth out of her natural habitat!
I took a deep breath and started typing a reply:
Hi, Abby. Amanda needed help. I couldn’t just leave her there to die. Your mother is a veterinarian and she saves animals’ lives every day. How is this different?
I wondered when she would see my post. It was just past dinnertime in St. Louis. Abby was probably doing homework at her desk in her bedroom at this very minute. Still, I was surprised when Abby’s reply popped up almost immediately.
ABBY: My mom saves pets’ lives. That’s the difference. They’ve been raised by humans. They are domesticated and rely on us for survival. They couldn’t last on their own in the wild. But we shouldn’t interfere with wild animals.
Interfere? Is that what she thought I was doing?
LEA: Remember in third grade when we saved Tweety, the bird who fell from his nest? In order to save him, we had to carry him to safety. You even helped by calling your mom and asking her what we should do. Left alone, Tweety would have died.
ABBY: The Amazon rainforest is different from St. Louis. The animals here are used to sharing their environment with people, and even depend on them to put out birdseed and plant trees in their neighborhoods. But in the rainforest, the cycle of life goes on without our help.
LEA: So are you saying I should have just left an orphaned baby sloth there to die alone?
I stared at the tablet screen, waiting for a reply from Abby. When I didn’t see another post for the longest time, at first I was angry, then I was upset, and then I was sad. It felt awful to be arguing with my best friend.
Finally, another message popped up.
ABBY: I didn’t know she was an orphan. Why didn’t you tell me?! You only wrote that you found a baby sloth!
I felt stupid—I hadn’t done a good job of explaining what was going on. No wonder Abby was upset with me! I quickly replied:
Amanda’s mother was probably killed by a harpy eagle. Amanda was helpless and alone. If we hadn’t found her, someone—or something—else would have. I don’t know if she’ll survive at the sanctuary. But I do know it’s her only chance for survival.
Abby, I know what you’re saying about not interfering with the rainforest, but sadly that’s not 100% true. We humans DO interfere: Loggers and ranchers are cutting down the forests, leaving the wild animals with fewer places to live. And poachers kidnap exotic animals. I wish I could solve all of these problems. When I found Amanda, I realized I could help save at least one animal—so I had to try.
After a few agonizing minutes, Abby finally replied.
Wow. I didn’t realize that all that was going on. I get now that you did what you had to do to save that baby sloth. And it sounds like there are many more animals that need help.
There was a pause, and then she wrote:
What can we do?
I was so happy that Abby finally understood. Then it occurred to me that my blog was the reason Abby knew about Amanda’s plight—and now, about the plight of the other animals in the sanctuary and in the rainforest.
For the first time, I realized that my blog had the potential to make a difference. My classmates all cared. And if each of them told other people and got them to care, who knew what we could accomplish?
LEA: Get the word out! Tell others about the Amazon rainforest. I’m still learning a lot about it, and with this blog, I’ll share what I learn. I know that it would be impossible for us to save all the animals, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Even if it’s saving just one animal at a time.
Then I posted a picture of Amanda, all fresh and fluffy, and hit “send.”
he next day, I sat on Tomás’s bed reading all of my classmates’ blog comments. They were super excited to help spread the word, and they were already planning some class projects to share information about the rainforest with other classes at Samuel Clemens Elementary.
Tomás sat across the room drawing a picture of Amanda. I was impressed that he had given his beloved Macaco to her yesterday. It reminded me of Ama’s rule: When you visit a new place, you should always leave something behind.
But what could I leave behind for the rainforest, which had given me so much? It was here that I had been welcomed into the Barros family and found Amanda. I looked through my suitcase. What good would it do to leave behind a picture of my pet turtle—or my flip-flops? I had nothing to give.
Zac stuck his head in the door. “You ready?”
He had told Tomás and me that we could join him for a trip into town to pick up some groceries for Olivia. I grabbed my bag, making sure that I had my wallet. I had saved my birthday money along with my allowance for this trip and had yet to spend most of it. I was looking forward to finding something to rem
ind me of my visit to Brazil. Maybe I’d find a souvenir this afternoon.
Tomás and Zac ran ahead as I followed them to the dock. It was faster to take the rowboat than to walk.
But before I could reach the dock, I heard a squawk. Galo Louco.
I took several slow steps toward the dock. Galo Louco strutted toward me, his eyes never leaving my face. But this time, instead of running, I took a step toward him. It was like a showdown, each of us determined not to be the first to look away.
“Lea, let’s go!” my brother called from the dock.
“Shhh!” I said. “Just give me a minute.”
My heart fluttered as Galo Louco came to a stop right in front of me and tilted his head. I knew he was about to start pecking at my feet, but before he could, I reached into my bag.
“This is for you,” I said. Without taking my eyes off him, I pulled out a small banana that I had placed in my bag and waved it at him. “You don’t scare me,” I told the rooster.
I peeled the banana and broke off several small pieces, tossing them just behind him. Galo Louco looked at the banana and then looked at me. Then he made his choice.
As he happily gobbled up the banana, I stepped past him and made my way to the dock.
Zac stretched out his long legs as he waited for me to get my life jacket on. Tomás sat next to him and did the same. I had to laugh at the two of them sitting side by side, both wearing sunglasses, their hands behind their heads.
Since no one had picked up the oars, I did. I can row a boat, I thought. How difficult can it be?
Very difficult, it turned out. After watching me struggle, Zac helped me push off and then began to row with me. At first I tried too hard, plunging the oars deep into the water and using all my strength to bring them up again. But after a while, I figured out that if I loosened up and let the oar skim the water, the river would work with me instead of against me.
The little town was just as busy and vibrant as it had been when we drove through it on my first day in Santa Sofia. Zac stopped and chatted with almost everyone we passed. I didn’t mind, though—it gave me time to look around. The shops were small and tidy. Inside the grocery store, I looked at the colorful packages of food that lined each aisle, trying to guess what was in each one. Although I had learned to say a handful of words in Portuguese, I still couldn’t read it.
After Zac paid for the groceries, he continued chatting with the cashier for a while longer. It was clear how much my brother was liked here in Santa Sofia. He seemed at home.
As we walked out of the market, I hooked my brother’s arm in mine. “When are you coming back?” I asked.
“We’ll head back in a few minutes,” Zac said. “I just need to find a few more of the items on Olivia’s grocery list.”
“No, I meant when are you coming back to St. Louis?” I said.
“Oh. Well, you know I’ve got another half a year in Brazil,” he said, picking up a pineapple from the fruit stand. “I’m going to see if maybe I can extend my studies and stay here a little longer, though. There’s word that a new group of poachers has moved into this area. If there’s any way I can help stop them, I’d like to try.”
I hesitated. “But you are coming home, right? I mean, you’re not staying in Brazil forever, are you?”
Zac put down the basket. He knit his brow and shook his head. “Lea,” he said, “I’m lucky enough to have discovered my passion. I want to help save the Amazon rainforest, and the best place to do that would be here in Brazil.”
I felt a lump in my throat. I didn’t know what to say.
My brother continued. “I have to be honest with you: My studies and my work are going to take me all over the world. I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to come home. But even though we may be far apart, I’ll always be your brother. I’ll always be thinking of you.”
I remained quiet as I gathered my thoughts, and then I looked up at him with a smile. “Maybe I can visit you all over the world!” I said.
Zac grinned. “I’d love that.” He gave me a hug and I hugged him back twice as hard.
“What did you buy?” Olivia asked when we got back to the house.
“Everything on your list,” I said, double-checking. “Papayas, rice, beans—”
“Oh, I meant for yourself,” she said. “I thought you were going to buy some souvenirs.”
I put my hand on my purse. I had forgotten about shopping for myself.
I had just logged on to my laptop when I heard Zac call out, “Lea, Marcos is back and said we can use the truck now. Let’s you and Tomás and I go visit Amanda!”
I only had time to glance at an e-mail that Camila had sent, saying that her mother said she could visit me during my spring break—and that was only about six weeks away! Although I was already starting to feel sad about leaving Zac and Amanda tomorrow, my heart lifted at the thought of seeing Camila again.
As we drove past the dense green wall of trees that bordered the road, I felt glad that I had spring break to look forward to. Camila had been so great taking me around Praia Tropical, and I couldn’t wait to return the favor and show her St. Louis. Plus, she was going to get to meet Abby and, of course, Ginger. I just wished she could have met Amanda.
Up ahead, I saw some bushes with bright pink flowers. “Zac, look,” I said. “Hibiscus!”
“For Amanda,” Tomás said, knowing what I was thinking.
Zac pulled over and we all got out.
“Olha!” Tomás said. The hibiscus bush was abuzz with a flock of rainbow-colored hummingbirds. We watched in awe as the tiny birds zipped from flower to flower, dipping their long beaks into the center of each bloom.
Tomás picked hibiscus flowers for Amanda while I took a few photos of the hummingbirds. Then we hopped back into the truck, as excited as ever to see our adorable little friend.
At last, Zac drove up the gravel driveway that led to the wildlife sanctuary. The truck had barely stopped before I unbuckled my seat belt and ran inside. Tomás and Zac were close behind.
“Amanda? Erika?” I called out. I raced to Amanda’s bed. It was empty, except for Macaco. “Amanda,” I said softly. Where was she? And then I had a terrible thought: Am I too late? Did she—
“Lea!” said someone behind me. It was Erika, and she was holding Amanda.
“Oh, thank goodness!” I said. “How’s she doing today?”
“I’ve just weighed her, and—well, the antibiotics aren’t battling the infection quite as well as we had hoped.”
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked, steeling myself for bad news.
“We’re doing the best we can,” Erika said.
I noticed that she hadn’t answered my question.
My voice quivered when I asked, “May I hold her?”
Erika nodded. “Of course. She’d like that.”
I handed my camera to Tomás as I brought Amanda close to me. Her bath from the day before had worked wonders. Amanda’s fur was still soft and she smelled great as I snuggled her. I never wanted to let her go.
“What will happen to her if—I mean when she gets better?” I asked as I held out the hibiscus flower and she began to nibble on it.
“If this little one can recover from her injuries and infection,” Erika said, “she’ll likely stay here for a while. After all, Amanda is still a baby. The missing claws may be a problem, but we’ll try to train her to latch on to trees without them. When she’s ready, we’ll reintroduce her to the rainforest. If she doesn’t take to the forest, or if her missing claws prove to be a problem, we’ll find a safe place for her. She’ll either stay here or, possibly, at a wildlife preserve. But for now, let’s just see whether she can recover.”
I hugged Amanda again and whispered, “You can do it. I know you can!”
hat night, I stayed up late to write my final blog post from Brazil. I looked around for my camera to download the latest photos—but I couldn’t find it. For a moment I panicked, until I remembered that I had probably left it in t
he truck. It was too dark for me to go outside on my own to retrieve the camera, so I made a mental note to grab it from the truck before our sunrise cruise the next morning. Luckily, I had plenty of other photos already loaded on my tablet. I lingered over the photos of Amanda. Just thinking about her made my heart happy and sad at the same time.
I touched my wrist, expecting to find my pink wish bracelet—but it was gone! That’s when I realized that it had granted me not just one wish—that Camila and I would always be great friends—but two more friendships that I hadn’t expected.
I started typing my last post from the rainforest:
At first I thought that Amanda was lucky I found her when I did, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m the one who was lucky. Amanda has helped me see that the rainforest is not just a place on a map, but a home for millions of animals who need our help. One way we can help is to raise awareness of the dangers that face this unique environment, which is home to so many amazing animals.
Now that I have traveled from the coast of Brazil to deep in the Amazon rainforest, I love this country and everything in it. I hope that someday I can return. Until then, I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind.
I didn’t know exactly when or where my wish bracelet had fallen off, but I did know that it was somewhere in the Amazon rainforest. I dedicated my last blog post to my three Brazilian friends: Camila, Tomás, and Amanda.
It seemed like I had just fallen asleep when it was time to wake up. It was still dark outside. I got dressed quickly, and then turned on my tablet to see if any of my classmates had commented since last night.
Zac rushed past the door and then screeched to a halt. He looked around the room. “Lea, are you packed yet? You’re leaving today, so if we’re going to get out on the river to watch the sunrise, you need to be packed before we go.”
