Megabat

by Anna Humphrey

  “Shredded wheat?” Megabat asked, puzzled. “Is most dust-gusting?”

  “Well, kind of. It’s mushy. But that’s not the point. It’s a way to remember the four letters.”

  “Megabat will be remembering,” the bat promised vaguely, then he went back to cleaning his talons. “Shredded wheat,” he muttered, between licks. “Most dust-gusting.”

  Daniel sighed.

  “Buttermelon now?” Megabat asked, for the third time. Daniel had brought down a container filled with fruit to reward Megabat, but it only seemed to be distracting him.

  “One piece,” Daniel said. “Then we keep working.”

  While Megabat devoured his melon, Daniel worried about what to do next. Just then, the vent above him came on, letting out a blast of air conditioning.

  Daniel shivered, then he stood up and walked toward some unpacked boxes. He found one marked “Coats & Gloves,” opened it and lifted out his dad’s old brown wool coat. The sleeves hung over his fingertips, but at least it was warm. He put up the hood.

  “Okay, Megabat,” he said. “Let’s look at the map again.”

  Megabat glanced up from his piece of melon and gasped. “Jedi Master,” he said, bowing low.

  Daniel laughed. The big brown coat did kind of look like the cloak Obi-Wan wore when he trained Luke Skywalker. He was going to explain that it was just his dad’s old winter jacket, but then he had an idea. He bowed back. “The Force is strong with you.”

  Megabat ruffled his wings with pride.

  “Shall we begin your training now, young Jedi knight?” Daniel asked.

  And so they did.

  THE NORTH STAR

  Daniel wore his dad’s coat all week—even in the blazing sun—and he and Megabat kept training. The bat flew laps of the block with Birdgirl at his side and did wingtip push-ups to gain strength.

  He also worked with Talia whenever she could come over, playing a game called Can You Eat It?

  It was Friday after dinner, and it was getting dark, but because it was the night before Megabat’s big journey they were still hard at work.

  “Cantaloupe?” Talia showed Megabat a flashcard.

  “Eating it,” Megabat answered, drooling.

  “A used Band-Aid?”

  “Not eating it.” Megabat wrinkled his snout.

  She showed him another flashcard. “Unidentified red berries?”

  “Not eating it,” answered Megabat. “Unless,” he added, “it is smelling most delicious.”

  “No, don’t eat it,” Talia corrected. “You could get sick.”

  “Oka-hay,” Megabat agreed. “Also,” he added gravely, “never be eating shredded wheat. Is most smushy.”

  Talia looked confused, but Daniel laughed out loud. “Okay,” he told Megabat. “Go channel the Force now.”

  Megabat flew to the backyard shed. He hung upside down from the eaves and closed his eyes. Birdgirl perched on the roof above him. They looked peaceful in the moonlight.

  “Tomorrow’s the big day,” Talia said. “Do you think he’s ready?”

  “I don’t know,” Daniel answered. “He still doesn’t understand the cardinal directions.”

  “He is a bat. Maybe he can navigate by echolocation,” Talia suggested.

  “I thought of that,” Daniel said, “but fruit bats don’t use echolocation.”

  Daniel wasn’t sure how they navigated. His books didn’t say. Giving up, he lay back on the grass and closed his eyes.

  “Aaaaaaaahhhhh!” came Megabat’s voice suddenly. “Daniel! Talia! Looking!”

  Daniel opened his eyes. “Oh!” he exclaimed. A shooting star had just streaked across the sky.

  They sat silently together, watching for more.

  “The Big Twinkly is much bright tonight,” Megabat said.

  “You mean the North Star?” Daniel said, pointing to the brightest light in the sky.

  “Mm-hmm. Much twinkly,” Megabat said…“perhaps mine bat brothers and sisters is watching it also.”

  That was when Daniel realized. “Megabat?” he said. “Which way is Papaya Premium?”

  Megabat pointed absently behind him and to his left with one wingtip.

  Of course! Fruit bats were nocturnal. It made perfect sense that Megabat could navigate using the stars.

  Daniel grinned at Talia. She grinned back. And for the first time in a long time, he felt almost content. Megabat was going to make it home. Daniel was certain of it.

  THE DEPARTURE

  “Wake up!” Daniel said the next morning. “I have a surprise for you.”

  The bat opened one big eye. “Did yours say sumprise?”

  Daniel held up a harness he’d made using some of his mom’s fabric-covered hair elastics. “It’s a holster for your lightsaber. So you can carry it while you fly.”

  Daniel stretched the elastic bands over Megabat’s wings and attached the straw.

  “Thanking yours,” the bat said.

  “You’re welcome. Now come on,” he added, before either one of them could get too sad. “We’d better go.”

  “There you are!” Talia said when they pushed open the gate to her yard.

  “We’re only a minute or two late.” Daniel squinted at the sun. Even though bats were nocturnal, they’d decided Megabat should leave at first light. He’d fly by day and keep watch for predators, then get his bearings from the stars before finding safe places to sleep.

  “Sorry. Jamie’s waiting for me to run his bubble bath and he’ll lose his patience if I take too long.”

  “Well, as soon as Megabat gets away, you can quit this whole servant thing, right?” Daniel said.

  “Exactly.” Talia smiled. “He can run his own dumb bath.” Then she turned to Megabat. “Are you ready?”

  “Undoubtedly,” Megabat said.

  “Cooo-wooo. Cooo-wooo.” Birdgirl strutted around Talia’s ankles, making the occasional fluttery jump toward the big bag of bread crusts she was holding.

  Daniel and Talia knew the pigeon would try to follow Megabat, so they’d decided to distract her. She was going to be heartbroken when she realized Megabat had left, but she’d only slow him down on his journey. It was for the best.

  “Well,” Talia said sadly…“I guess this is goodbye.” She took Megabat off Daniel’s finger, scratched his ears and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  “Goodbye, Talia,” the bat answered. Then he flew back to Daniel and bowed. “Farewell, Master Daniel.”

  Daniel hesitated for a second, then stuck out his tongue and licked Megabat across the face. It was a little furry but, otherwise, not so bad. Daniel cleared his throat to keep from crying. “May the Force be with you,” he said.

  Talia scattered the bread on the grass, and as soon as Birdgirl started eating, Megabat flapped his wings once, twice, and took off into the cloudless sky.

  But a moment later—THUNK—something landed at Daniel’s feet.

  “Did I catch him?” came a familiar voice. Jamie was leaning out the upstairs window. “I did!”

  “Helping mine!” came the bat’s panicked voice. Megabat was caught in a net Jamie had dropped. He was flapping frantically, getting more and more tangled.

  “I heard what you said about running my own bubble bath.” Jamie called. “Fat chance! The bat stays here. You’ll be my servant for life.”

  “Quick,” Talia said to Daniel. “Set Megabat free. I’ll deal with Jamie.” She ran into the house.

  Meanwhile, Daniel went into Talia’s garden shed. He found a small pair of yard clippers. “Keep still,” Daniel told Megabat. The bat whimpered softly as Daniel made a first cut in the net. Then another. After one more snip, he pulled the netting from Megabat’s left wing…but now he could see that it was even more tightly tangled around the right wing.

  “Cooo-woooo? Coo woo woo woo.”

  Birdgirl paced around Daniel in nervous circles, making it hard to focus.

  “Ohhhhh,” Megabat moaned. “Hurting.”

  “Sorry,” Daniel sa
id. “It’ll feel better once I get this off.”

  The back door of Talia and Jamie’s house slid open. “Just come and see it yourself, Mom,” he heard Jamie say. “It really is a talking bat.”

  “He’s being stupid,” Talia said. “There’s no such thing.” But a moment later, Patricia stepped onto the back deck.

  “Daniel? What have you got there?” she asked.

  Daniel didn’t have to answer.

  She took a step back. “It’s another bat! Get away from it!”

  Daniel made one last snip.

  “Ahhhhh!” Megabat cried. The net fell away.

  For a moment, Daniel thought everything would be okay…but then he saw the sheen of blood on the bat’s wing and—worse—smelled its sharp metallic tang.

  “Shoo.” Patricia grabbed a broom and waved it around.

  Megabat’s and Daniel’s eyes met. Daniel could tell his friend was scared, but the bat flapped his wings once, twice, three times and took off.

  Birdgirl went after him.

  And by the time Patricia reached the bottom of the steps with her broom, the bird and the bat were two silhouettes, heading south in the morning sky.

  THE RETURN

  Over the next two days, Daniel and Talia talked about Megabat constantly. In fact, Daniel’s mind was so busy with thoughts of his little friend that he nearly forgot about the first day of school.

  “Daniel!” his mom called up the attic stairs, three mornings after Megabat had left. “You don’t want to be late.”

  His new school was on the corner near his house, and by the time he’d laced up his running shoes, the street was filled with the familiar sounds of school bus engines and kids shouting—only, as familiar as it was, it seemed strange and scary too. Besides Talia and Jamie, Daniel didn’t know anyone.

  Talia wasn’t in his class and the day dragged on. Daniel was relieved when the bell rang. He was hoping to hang out with Talia, but when he ran into her near the door, she was laughing with two other kids.

  “Daniel, this is Nico and Ella,” she said. “They’re coming to play on my trampoline. You can come too if you want.”

  “Yeah,” said the kid named Nico. “We’re playing popcorn.”

  “You can be the popcorn first,” Ella added with a small smile.

  Daniel didn’t know that game…or if being the first popcorn was good or bad. Truthfully, he’d been hoping to talk more about Megabat. And, anyway, Talia’s friends were probably only inviting him to be nice.

  “Actually,” he said, “I think I’m just going to go home today. See you later.”

  Talia frowned, but she didn’t argue.

  “Okay,” she said. “See you later.”

  * * *

  That night, to celebrate his first day of school, Daniel’s mom made Japanese-style spare ribs and his dad cooked them on the BBQ. They’d just finished setting the table on the patio when—

  “Hey!” Daniel jumped. A little piece of gravel had hit him on the head.

  Daniel’s dad shielded his eyes and looked toward the sun. “Did that pigeon just drop rocks?” he asked.

  More rocks fell. This time, a few landed in the salad bowl. Daniel wondered and hoped, then he squinted. Yes! The pigeon had an all-white head and brown wings. Birdgirl was back!

  “So much for eating outside. Grab the food,” his mom said. “Bring the last two plates, will you, Daniel?” Daniel nodded then watched his parents go inside.

  “Birdgirl!” he whispered loudly. She landed at his feet.

  “Coo-woo.” She tilted her head from side to side. Then Daniel saw: attached to her back with Megabat’s juice-box-straw holster was a black lump with limp, leathery wings.

  For a moment, Daniel’s heart seemed to stop, but then he saw that his friend was still breathing. He unstrapped the bat from the pigeon’s back and cradled him carefully in his palm.

  “Are you coming?” His mom leaned out the back door.

  “Just a minute,” he said. “I want to—uh—pick some flowers for the table.”

  He walked across the yard, opened the shed and set Megabat on top of a ceiling beam where he’d be safe. The bat shivered slightly, so Daniel pulled off one of his socks and tucked Megabat inside it like a sleeping bag. It was stinky, but it would have to do.

  Birdgirl flew onto the beam and wrapped one wing over the bat.

  “I’ll be back soon, Megabat,” Daniel whispered.

  THE RECOVERY

  When he was done dinner, Daniel asked if he could go play with Talia.

  “It’s Megabat,” he whispered, when she opened the door. “He’s in my shed.”

  He’d worried, at first, that Talia might not help him since he’d sulked off after school, but she didn’t even hesitate.

  “I’ll meet you in five minutes,” she answered—but she was there in two, carrying a first aid kit. She climbed onto a lawn chair. “I’m going to need a bowl of warm water and a clean sponge,” she said. “A juice box too. He needs liquids.”

  By the time Daniel got back with the supplies, Talia had already done an examination.

  “It’s not good,” she reported. “See? He lost his right wingtip.”

  Daniel felt sick. He’d suspected that he’d injured the bat badly when he cut the net, but now he knew for sure.

  “He wouldn’t have made it back without Birdgirl.” Talia dipped the sponge into the bowl of water and squeezed it over the hurt wingtip. “He might never fly again,” she added sadly. “We’ll check on him tomorrow, okay?” Talia hopped off the lawn chair. “He’ll probably be awake by then.”

  Except he wasn’t. That day and the next, Megabat didn’t open his eyes.

  Talia came often to check on him, and Daniel spent as much time as he could with his friend, but Birdgirl was Megabat’s best nurse. The only time she left his side was to gather twigs to build a strong, warm nest around him.

  It wasn’t until five days after Megabat’s return that he finally awoke.

  Daniel had found a juicy purple plum in the fruit bowl. He was carrying it across the yard, hoping the smell might wake his friend, when he heard Megabat’s voice.

  “Oh. Now yours is being silly,” the bat was saying.

  Daniel’s heart leapt with joy—Megabat was better! But would his friend even want to see him after what he’d done?

  There was a rustling noise and the snapping of a twig. “Yours is not needing to be building this nest all alone. Giving that here, peeze.” There was a long pause—then some soft, sad cooing.

  “Fine, fine. Mine is sorry. Yes, yes, Birdgirl is only trying to be helping.”

  Daniel peered through the doorway just in time to see Megabat wrap his good wing over Birdgirl’s back.

  The bat nuzzled his snout against the pigeon’s cheek. “Yours is a pretty bird. Megabat is not meaning to lose patience.” Birdgirl ruffled her feathers, then closed her eyes.

  Daniel took a step back. He didn’t want to interrupt this private seeming moment, but his hand moved the shed door, making it squeak.

  Megabat looked up. “A Daniel is here!” he said. “Birdgirl, looking!”

  “Um. Hi.” Daniel stepped into the dimness of the shed. “You’re awake. How’s your wing?”

  Megabat lifted his bandaged wing, wincing. “Most hurty.”

  Daniel put the plum down on the rafter beside Megabat. It seemed like such a small offering.

  “I’m really sorry I cut you,” Daniel said. “It’s all my fault you can’t go home.”

  Birdgirl edged closer and cooed something in Megabat’s ear. He lifted his hurt wing a little, then let it drop. “Megabat cannot be flying anymore?” he asked.

  Daniel shook his head.

  All of a sudden, a tear slid down Megabat’s cheek. Then another and another. Before long, there was a puddle on the dirt floor.

  “Please don’t drip, Megabat,” Daniel pleaded.

  Then Daniel started crying too. Drip drip drip drip. Now both their tears were making a big, muddy mess.


  “I’m so sorry,” Daniel said. “I didn’t mean to. I love you so much. I ruined everything and now you’re stuck here forever.”

  At that, Megabat gave a little gasp. His long tongue darted out and licked up one of Daniel’s tears before it could hit the ground. “Hey!” Daniel said.

  “None more dripping,” said the bat sternly. His tongue darted out again, licking up another of Daniel’s tears.

  “Stop that!” Daniel laughed.

  “A Daniel is loving Megabat?” the bat asked sheepishly.

  Daniel shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Of course. I mean, you’re my best friend in this town. I really missed you when you were gone.”

  “But yours did helping mine go all the same?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “But you probably would have been better off without me,” he said. “I mean, look what happened.”

  “Look what happened,” the bat repeated. He paused, deep in thought. “Megabat was lost and all alone, but Master Daniel did take him under his wing. He used-ed all his powers to help Megabat. But oh no! The evil Jamie was attacking! All hope was lost…but wait!” Megabat struck a fighting stance.

  “A Daniel and Megabat did channel the Force!” He grabbed his lightsaber straw with his talon and slashed at the air. “A Daniel cutted free Megabat’s wing and in a daring upwards exscape mine did evade the evil Jamie’s net!”

  Daniel couldn’t help smiling. When Megabat told it like that, it did sound kind of heroic.

  The bat got quiet for a second. He lifted his bad wing. “Megabat is not flying anymore,” he said again, as if letting it sink in. “Is oka-hay.”

  For a while the only noise in the shed was Birdgirl, shredding sticks in the corner.

  “Asking yours something?” Megabat said, in a hushed voice.