by K. E. Rocha
Kate crept over to Spencer. “You do what they do, remember?”
Spencer gulped. He remembered, but he really wished they were doing anything other than climbing.
Kate looked up at the tree they were hiding behind. “How about this one?” Spencer followed her gaze. The smooth black-and-white bark of the birch looked slippery and uninviting. He touched his jade bear.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of climbing. What he minded was being too far off the ground, and what he was afraid of was falling. Spencer didn’t know why, but whenever he climbed—like on the rope in gym class—he got a horrible feeling. A weird memory he couldn’t place would fill his head, and he’d see images of things he knew had happened but that he couldn’t fully remember.
“Spencer?” Kate peered out from behind the tree again. “Okay, here’s what they’re doing,” she said, then hopped onto the tree and climbed up into the branches. She moved from branch to branch until she’d gone as high as she could. After a moment, she climbed back down. “They’re being timed, so they’re doing it faster, but I think you should just climb as high as you can, okay?”
Spencer didn’t say anything. He considered using the extra weight of his wet jeans as an excuse not to climb the tree, or the fact that his shoes might be slick from the river water dripping down his legs.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Kate interrupted his thoughts.
He gave the jade bear an extra squeeze. I’m waiting for a harness, or a trampoline, or a net to catch me.
But before he could come up with an excuse not to climb the tree, Spencer hoisted himself onto the trunk. Wrapping his legs around it, he scooted upward, a few inches at a time. He tried to use his feet to lever himself higher, but the soles of his sneakers slipped against the flat bark, and he lost his grip, bumping roughly back down to the ground.
“Take your shoes off,” Kate suggested quietly. “You’ll be able to grip the tree better.”
She was just trying to be helpful, but Spencer couldn’t help feeling annoyed. He kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his now-soggy socks, then gripped the tree again with his arms and legs. Slowly, he started to climb. Kate was right: It was way easier with bare feet.
Climbing higher and higher, Spencer hoped that weird feeling wouldn’t happen again, whatever it was . . . As long as he didn’t think about falling, maybe—but then it hit him—that nauseating, scattered, mystery memory. “No. Go away,” Spencer groaned, but it didn’t help. Clinging to the tree with every ounce of his strength, the images flashed through his head—blood, a glint of metal, and the black earth racing up to meet him as he plunged through leaves and branches.
Spencer was halfway up the tree trunk, frozen in place. The memory only took an instant to come and go, but it left him with an awful, dizzying feeling of panic.
“All the way up! Just like a bear!” Kate whispered up to him.
“Kate,” he croaked, embarrassed by his lingering fear. “I’m coming back down now.” Willing himself to move again, Spencer carefully made his way to the ground where Kate waited. The cub looked him over with concern as he put his damp socks and shoes back on.
“Did you scratch your feet?” she asked. “Mom told me that you have to wear shoes because your feet are too soft. I shouldn’t have told you to take them off.” She sat back on her haunches and waited for him to answer, a worried look on her face.
“No, it’s not my feet. It’s not your fault.” Spencer looked down at his sneakers and fiddled with the laces. “My arms just got tired. All that boulder rolling last night.” He forced a hushed laugh.
Kate brightened. “Or all of those trout trappers!” She swept alternating claws toward the ground rapidly, miming one of Fred’s favorite moves. Kate stopped swinging her arms and checked that they hadn’t been heard by the Bear Guard recruits. Nobody seemed to have noticed them. “You did great,” she said to Spencer emphatically. “Come on, we should get home before Jo-Jo and Winston eat all of our breakfast.”
Spencer looked up at the cheerful cub. He wished Kate could come on the bear rescue, too. They made a good team, and Spencer would feel better having her around.
He shook the thought from his head. He needed to focus on his parents. He needed to be brave on his own. He jumped to his feet. “Last one there’s a rotten carcass!”
Jo-Jo and Winston were still asleep when Spencer and Kate walked into the Weavers’ house. Bunny had laid out several bowls of berries in the kitchen, and on the table, where it couldn’t be missed, sat a shiny human-sized spoon.
“We’ve done Bear Stealth, boulder rolling, and climbing,” Spencer said as he scooped a spoonful of berries and honey out of the basin in front of him.
“Don’t forget the extra conditioning that Fred Crossburger gave us!”
“Right. That was helpful.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “What’s next?”
“Technology and Rescue Ragayo!”
Without his computer project, Spencer wasn’t sure how he could practice his technology skills. He didn’t think anyone would lend him their BEAR-COM to tinker with, and getting back into the Lab to poke around with the equipment seemed too risky . . . All that left was . . .
“Salmon King!” Kate gasped.
Can BEAR-COMs read minds?
“It’s impossible to erase old scores on Salmon King,” the cub explained. “Even Jo-Jo’s really low scores from when he was way worse than Winston are still saved. You could try to change it somehow . . .”
“That’s perfect! If I can hack into the game, it’ll prove that I could pass technology training!”
“But we have to do it now. Before Jo-Jo and Winston wake up.” Kate gulped down the berries in her bowl. Spencer followed her lead, and within minutes, he was bent over one of the Salmon King controllers, figuring out how it worked.
By the time Jo-Jo and Winston wrestled each other into the room an hour later and turned on Salmon King to play, Spencer had erased the game’s score history, proving to himself and to Kate that they didn’t need to spend any more time on technology training. The only score history that popped onto the screen said Kate—Salmon King—1,000,000 Salmon Caught.
“Kate!” Jo-Jo had shouted. But Kate and Spencer were already racing out the door, satisfied that Spencer had proven his technology skills.
Spencer followed Kate through Bearhaven, wondering where she’d take him to practice Rescue Ragayo. Finally, she plopped down in the middle of the quiet school yard. Of course! There probably wasn’t anyone at his school back home, either. It was a Saturday after all.
“Okay, so what words do I need to know?” he asked, diving into the training.
Kate tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not sure, but if it’s called Rescue Ragayo, then words you’d need in a rescue, I guess.”
“So, safe . . . come . . .” He started brainstorming.
“Go . . . attack . . . fast . . . now . . .” Kate added.
“Attack?” I will have to be really careful with that one.
“Well, more like, ‘fight back,’ but if there are bad guys chasing you—”
“Right, got it.” Spencer cut her off. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
Kate scrambled around to sit facing Spencer, her hind legs sprawled out in front of her. “Let’s start with go. Are you ready?”
“Ready.” He sat up straighter. He was about to learn a secret language that Mom and Dad had been speaking for years.
“Go.” Kate’s BEAR-COM translated. “Oops!” She pushed the red button on her device to turn it off. “Grauk.”
“Grauk,” Spencer imitated.
Kate shook her head and growled the word again.
“Grauk,” he tried in a deeper voice. Kate giggled and pushed in the green button on her BEAR-COM.
“No, it’s not supposed to come from your snout—I mean your nose.” She put a paw on his chest, accidentally knocking him backward. “Imagine you’re a bear,” she continued once Spencer had righted himself. “Think
about the sounds bubbling up from your stomach and out through your throat.” She switched her BEAR-COM off. They went back and forth again and again, but Spencer still didn’t get it right.
“What’s the difference?!” Spencer finally exclaimed.
“You have to growl more,” Kate answered. “Try again, but put your hands like this.” She placed one paw against her belly, and the other up to her throat. Spencer did the same. “Remember, more growl.” Kate demonstrated again. “Grauk.”
Spencer heard it differently this time.
He tried to imagine the sounds coming from deep in the pit of his stomach, rumbling up through his throat. “Grauk.”
Kate nodded vigorously, spouting excited Ragayo until she had her BEAR-COM turned back on. “That’s it! You’ve got it!”
“Grauk,” he said again, feeling the word build up and move out of him, hearing the growl.
They continued on to the next word, shala, for “safe,” and slowly, Spencer got the hang of it. By the time they’d repeated each of the words they’d brainstormed several times, he understood how the words should feel, and he could form the sounds with little effort.
“One last one!” Kate switched off her BEAR-COM before Spencer could ask what this new word would mean. “Anbranda.”
“Anbranda,” he repeated. “What does it mean?”
“‘Warrior for your family,’” she said, dropping her paw from her device. “Like someone who’d fight to protect you or the bears you love.” Then, scrambling to her feet, she added, “It works for ‘friend,’ too. Seems like a good one to know.”
“Anbranda,” Spencer said again.
The only way for Spencer to prove that he should be included on the rescue mission was to surprise Uncle Mark and the Weavers with a demonstration of all of the skills he and Kate had practiced in training. As soon as Uncle Mark arrived for breakfast that morning, Kate steered everyone over to the couches where Spencer was waiting, determined to earn his place on the rescue team.
Now Spencer stood in front of the Weavers’ fireplace, watching Professor Weaver’s, Bunny’s, and Uncle Mark’s faces as he finished explaining the inner workings of the Salmon King game he’d hacked. Kate looked on, nodding emphatically at every word Spencer said.
“Very interesting, Spencer,” Professor Weaver said, as though trying to puzzle out why the Salmon King game had to be hacked at all, or why they were hearing about it now when they were supposed to be having breakfast, then sending Uncle Mark off on the rescue mission.
Kate caught Spencer’s look and launched into the next skill.
“Safe!” she prompted.
“Shala!” Spencer translated.
“Go!”
Spencer growled, “Grauk!”
“Fast!”
“Gal!”
“Attack!”
“Kate!” Bunny exclaimed before Spencer could recite the word in Ragayo. “Why on earth would you teach Spencer to say ‘attack’?”
“It’s Rescue Ragayo, Mom,” Kate said matter-of-factly. Uncle Mark raised an eyebrow. The cub pressed on. “In addition to being trained in Rescue Ragayo, Spencer Plain can do anything a bear can do. For example . . .” She hesitated, anxiously searching for a word. Come on, Kate, Spencer willed, eager to get to Bear Stealth. “Yesterday, Fred Crossburger himself called Spencer aerobic!” Aerobic?
Uncle Mark chuckled. “Is that so?”
“More importantly,” Spencer rushed on, “I can do things bears and adults can’t do.”
“Let’s see it!” Kate chimed. “Everybody close your eyes.”
“Kate Dora Weaver, what on earth?”
“Spence, I really have to get going.” Uncle Mark looked at his watch. “Maybe we could save the rest of this . . . presentation for when I’m back?”
“Five more minutes,” Spencer said. “Please close your eyes.” Uncle Mark sighed, then closed his eyes. Professor Weaver nodded and did the same. After a small sigh, Bunny let her eyelids fall shut. As soon as she did, Spencer dropped to the floor and slipped underneath the only empty couch in the room. It was a tight squeeze, but he could fit his entire body beneath it, and the upholstery hung down around him, hiding him completely.
“Open your eyes and behold Spencer, master of Bear Stealth!” Kate announced. A moment of silence passed.
“Spence?” Uncle Mark’s muffled voice traveled down to Spencer.
“Spencer, why don’t you come on out now.” It was Professor Weaver.
“No!” Kate protested. “You have to find him.”
“Kate,” Bunny warned. Even from under the couch, Spencer could tell that Bunny wasn’t amused, but she hadn’t seen where he’d gone yet. He slipped out from under the couch. “Oh!” she cried upon seeing him. “My goodness, I can’t believe you fit under there!” Bunny looked from the couch to Spencer and back again. Professor Weaver seemed impressed, but Uncle Mark just watched calmly as Kate pressed on.
“He climbs just as well as he hides!” On cue, Spencer approached the support beam in one corner of the room. Polished to a smooth column, the beam looked as though it had been carved from a tree trunk and put there as much for decoration as for ceiling support. Spencer grasped it with both hands and hoisted himself up, but just as he started to climb, Professor Weaver’s voice stopped him.
“All right, son,” the bear said. “Why don’t you tell us what this is all about.”
Spencer dropped to the floor and looked at the professor. Not yet! He wanted to shout. You have to give me a chance!
“But we have so much more—” Kate started. Bunny cut her off.
“I think an explanation is in order, dear.” She patted the space on the couch next to her. Kate padded over and took a seat beside her mother, then sank back into the cushions to sulk. Spencer stood up, but didn’t move to join everyone on the cluster of couches.
He’d done all he possibly could to get ready for this. Yesterday, he and Kate had practiced Bear Stealth again after lunch, and Rescue Ragayo right after that. He’d even given climbing another shot—not that it went any better the second time around—and he’d mastered using his mind and resources to move a boulder when his strength wasn’t enough. He’d been so exhausted last night that he hadn’t said much at dinner with the Weavers. Then, when he finally crashed into bed, he’d heard paper crinkle beneath him.
After re-reading the letter from Mom telling him why his parents had given him the jade bear, Spencer had decided he wasn’t taking no for an answer today. He was going on this mission.
“I want to go with you, Uncle Mark,” he said calmly. “I know you think I’m just a kid, but that could be a good thing. I can hide where no one else can. I can move boulders by building a lever just like Dad taught me. I’m really good with technology, and I can speak some Rescue Ragayo now. Those are all things the bears training for the guard need to do, and I can do them.” He looked pleadingly at his uncle.
“Spence, I’m sorry,” Uncle Mark said, looking Spencer in the eye. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea . . .”
“The risk is too high, dear,” said Bunny.
“I can help save Ro Ro and the cubs. And if I could just see the place, I know I’d be able to—”
“Spencer.” Uncle Mark stopped him. “The answer is no.”
Why didn’t Uncle Mark understand? He turned to Professor Weaver. Maybe there’s still a chance . . .
But the professor shook his head. “I’m afraid that settles it, son.”
“This isn’t fair!” Kate shouted. “He trained!”
Bunny hushed her cub. The conversation was over. Spencer reached into his pocket and took hold of the jade bear.
Bears trust their instincts, his mother had written in her letter. They use their senses to understand what’s happening around them, then they do what they know is right.
“Maybe Spencer could at least see you to the station, Mark?” Bunny suggested after a moment, her voice full of sympathy.
Uncle Mark relaxed, the tensi
on in the room lifting. “Yeah, that’d be all right.”
“Can Kate come?” Spencer asked quickly. His uncle shrugged.
“I don’t see why not.”
Spencer shot Kate a look. This isn’t over yet.
Spencer had asked a lot of questions over the past few days, but as they made their way down the dirt path and into the clearing where he’d first met the Weavers, it occurred to him that he’d never asked Uncle Mark how he’d gotten from the abandoned railway tunnel where he’d parked the Porsche all the way into Bearhaven. Without a bear to carry him up the first tree to the hologram-covered bridge, it would have been impossible for Uncle Mark to come in the same way Spencer had. Besides, B.D. had said that they rarely entered Bearhaven by the bridge in the trees.
Spencer watched as B.D. approached the very same tree that had dropped him into the clearing. The bear touched a concealed button on the bark of the tree, and the door slid open, revealing the smooth, hollowed-out space inside the trunk, and the platform that Spencer knew would rise to the knothole above.
He wanted to ask Uncle Mark now, but B.D. was already cranky. “I wasn’t aware I’d be chaperoning a field trip today,” the bear had huffed when Spencer and Kate followed Uncle Mark out of the Weavers’ house.
Spencer caught Kate’s eye and pointed up, questioning if they’d go back out the same way he’d entered Bearhaven. The cub shook her head and pointed down. Apparently the clearing wasn’t the only stop the tree elevator made.
“It’s a train,” Kate whispered, but not as quietly as Spencer would have liked. Uncle Mark turned. He was wearing his leather jacket and had an army-green canvas bag slung over one shoulder. He didn’t look anything like a spy—or an operative, as everyone kept calling it—just his usual, cool self.
“Everything okay?” he asked Spencer. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“Yeah,” Spencer answered. “Just didn’t know you were going by train, that’s all.” Uncle Mark didn’t say anything for a moment, and Spencer thought he saw some regret, or maybe sympathy, in his uncle’s eyes.
