Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

by Mariko Tamaki

  “We could make a moon now if you want,” Jo said.

  Castor looked up. Stunned. “You want to make a moon?”

  “We can make whatever you want,” Jo said, looking around. “I think we just need some Styrofoam.”

  “Why would we MAKE a moon?” Castor asked, sinking her paw back into the glitter.

  “Well,” Jo tilted her head. “You could make a moon using precise existing measurements and that could—”

  “Because it’s FUN,” Molly said, pulling out a pair of scissors. “Also, it’s super easy. I’ll show you.”

  “Right,” Jo added, grabbing a tube of glue. “Fun.”

  “This fun thing,” Castor marveled, “is quite the stuff down here.”

  CHAPTER 17

  By the end of the day, Castor was covered in glitter. It clung to her coat and her tail. It shook out of her fur every time she stepped or breathed or blinked or thought about something. And it appeared to make her very happy.

  She lay flat on her back on the picnic table, next to her moon mobile, shivering with glee.

  “FUN,” she sighed. “That was FUN?”

  “Yes.” Molly smiled, turning her face into the sun and listening to Bubbles snooze.

  Jo nodded.

  Thinking about how great it was to be a Lumberjane, Jo felt like her insides were a centrifuge, which is like this rapidly spinning thing that scientists use to separate matter. And the centrifuge was just spinning and spinning inside her, even though on the outside she looked like Jo, who had taken a talking mouse on a tour of the most important place in the world.

  Sure, FUN. And then, the letter said, eventually you move on to more important things. Yes?

  “It’s just FUN here, all the time?” Castor asked, looking at the glitter on her fur.

  “Not all the time,” Molly noted. “But there’s definitely a lot of fun around. We still do, like, learn things. Like we all earn badges . . .”

  “Badges,” Castor said. “Fine cloth?”

  “More like markers of achievement,” Molly explained, pulling her That’s Accordion to You badge out of her pocket to show Castor.

  Castor sniffed it. “Very nice,” she offered, politely.

  Off in the distance, Molly spotted Mal sitting on a picnic bench, her fingers working the keys of her accordion.

  Jo looked at Castor. “So how is it you ended up here, again?”

  Castor’s furry cheeks seemed to blush a bit.

  “Oh, I just looked down and there you were,” Castor said, running her paw over her nose. “And this place has a lovely reputation for . . .”

  “Looked down from where?” Jo asked.

  “Lovely reputation for what?” Molly asked.

  “What? OH!” Castor shook her furry head. “I—”

  Just then Ripley, much to Castor’s relief, bounded over with a particularly Ripley-like bounce.

  “SPECIAL DELIVERY!” she hollered.

  Holding her hands behind her back, Ripley stopped in front of Castor. “Ready?”

  Castor curled back on her hind legs. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.”

  “TADA!” Ripley whipped out a slightly rough-edged but still very cool tiny jean vest, just Castor’s size, covered in little patches in a rainbow of colors.

  Castor blinked her green eyes, the breath suddenly pushed out of her little mouse body.

  “It’s for YOU!” Ripley said, holding it up. “I hope it fits. It’s my first vest.”

  Castor reached forward, taking the vest from Ripley. “You made this?” She touched it to her chest. “For me?”

  “SURE!”

  Ripley did a little dance as Castor slipped off her tiny green jacket and slipped on her present. It was a little big, but still pretty cool.

  “Vest vest vest vest vest VEST!” Ripley sang. “Vest vest vest vest vest VEST!”

  “Great moonstones and rings of fire,” Castor breathed, looking down at it, “ ’Tis by far the most glorious garment I have ever seen in any galaxy.”

  Jo raised an eyebrow. “ ’Tis it?”

  Ripley blushed, pulling a few stray bits of thread out of her hair. “Aw shucks. I just wanted you to feel, you know, like part of the cabin and everything.”

  “That’s super nice, Rip,” Molly said, patting Ripley on the back.

  “Castor, your coat, it’s . . . intricate,” Jo said, running her fingers over the gold embroidery on Castor’s coat, a lustrous fabric unlike any she had ever seen, in this galaxy or any other. The bottom was covered in little gold stars. It weighed no more than half a penny.

  Castor was too busy running her claw along the slightly crooked stitches of the vest to hear. “For me,” she whispered. “Astonishing.”

  “Wouldn’t it be cool if you could stay here forever,” Ripley said. “Just like us?”

  “Quite,” Castor said, her voice small.

  Jo’s stomach flipped.

  Everyone has to go sometime, the letter said, in a voice no one else could hear that rang in Jo’s ears.

  CHAPTER 18

  That night, dinner was Kzzyzy’s specialty: six-cheese lasagna. Bubbles watched, unamused, from his perch on Molly’s head, as Castor devoured a slice twice her size.

  Bubbles was somehow not Castor’s biggest fan.

  That night, the whole mess hall seemed to be under a spell—it was so quiet you could hear the Parmesan shakers shaking.

  “What’s going on?” Ripley whispered, eyes wide. “It’s so quiet I can hear my teeth.”

  “Maybe everyone’s nervous for Galaxy Wars,” Molly suggested.

  April looked at Jo, thinking this was probably not why Jo, who was quiet anyway, was sitting so still, with her eyes fixed on something close and far away.

  “Pardon me,” Castor said, wiping a piece of cheese off her whisker, “but this Galaxy event in which you are engaged, it is a battle?”

  “It’s more of a contest,” Molly offered.

  “But you must challenge your fellow cabins, and to the victor go the spoils,” Castor said. “Correct?”

  As if woken from a spell, April raised her head.

  “You bet your deep-fried vegan cheesesticks,” she said. “If we win this, we’ll always be the first cabin to win Galaxy Wars. AND we’ll get our portrait in the hall of winning stuff. AND . . .” April paused, putting her fork to her lips. “That’s it, actually.”

  “The pin thingy!” Ripley chimed in.

  “RIGHT!” April said. “THE PIN THINGY!”

  “Quite . . . curious that you’re . . . excited to receive a portrait,” Castor whispered, incredulous. “When you have so much cheese!”

  Jo looked up. She’d forgotten about the portrait. “That would be pretty cool.”

  Technically Roanoke cabin was a pretty accomplished group of scouts, masters of adventure and discovery. But still. Winning as a team was something they hadn’t done.

  Jo knew well the light flashing in April’s eyes, tiny electric fires that signaled a burst of determination.

  Jo couldn’t imagine being a Lumberjane without April. And it was highly probable that the same was true for April.

  There was actually almost nothing Jo wouldn’t do for April, with the exception of reading Mermaid Lemonade Stand books, which Jo found relatively predictable in terms of plot.

  “What’s the score?” Jo asked. “Of the competition?”

  “We tied for second in cabin decoration,” April said, ticking the points off on her fingers. “So we’re tied with Zodiac.”

  That would be a pretty nice way to leave, the letter noted, weighing in on, seemingly, everything now, from Jo’s pocket. Maybe take the sting out a bit for the people you’ll leave behind.

  April raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Jo to think about stuff like points, even though Jo thought about a good many things. Worrying about stuff like points was an April thing.

  Worrying about the basic mechanics of the world around her was a Jo thing.

  Mal worried about water and the number
of things they were forced to do on a daily basis that had to do with water.

  Jo looked down at her lasagna.

  I could win Galaxy Wars, she thought. That would make April happy.

  Just then there was a familiar CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

  “SCOUTS! THE NEXT ROUND OF GALAXY WARS IS IN FIVE MINUTES! PLEASE HEAD TO THE NORTHEAST PADDOCK!”

  Jo stood up. “Let’s go win this thing,” she said.

  It was not a very Jo thing to say, April thought.

  Not a very Jo thing at all.

  CHAPTER 19

  It was difficult to guess in advance what the next event in Galaxy Wars would be. TRIVIA sure, okay, but what kind of TRIVIA?

  Being a Lumberjane means a lot of things are something obvious PLUS something else.

  “It could be trivia plus a giant pillow fight,” Ripley suggested, as they took their place behind their cabin flag.

  “I beg your pardon,” Castor’s whiskers twitched. “You lot fight with pillows?”

  “It’s kind of weird, but sometimes, yes,” Molly said.

  “And this is FUN as well?” Castor asked.

  “Oh my gosh, yes,” Ripley bounced. “YES YES YES.”

  “Why do you think it’s a pillow fight, Rip?” Jo asked.

  “Because that’s where my head usually is when the moon is out,” Ripley explained.

  Castor shook her head. “The moon is always out, you just can’t see it from where you are.”

  “WELCOME TO THE NEXT EVENT OF GALAXY WARS!” Jen shouted.

  Jen looked tired. Her hair was poofed out like a cloud around her head, and her beret was askew.

  “Today you will be competing in a first-ever Lumberjane event, HAMSTER BALL TRIVIA CROQUET!”

  “Whaaaaat?!” April’s mouth dropped open as a herd of camp counselors rolled a bunch of giant clear plastic, rubber balls onto the field.

  “HAMSTER BALL!” Zodiac crowed together.

  “I think Zodiac really likes Hamster Balls,” Molly said, watching as Zodiac did a little dance to celebrate . . . hamster balls.

  “OKAY!” Jen wobbled slightly, her body elastic with exhaustion. “I’m going to pass you over to VANESSA to explain this event!”

  Vanessa grabbed the megaphone. “OKAY, SCOUTS, LISTEN UP! Each cabin is going to choose a BALL scout and a MALLET scout! The BALL scout’s job will be to roll their BALL in the right direction. The MALLET scout’s job is give the ball ONE GIANT push or kick or whatever works for you.”

  “It’s all about the ball,” Jo murmured as she stared at the field, deciphering the best method for getting the ball from one end of the field to the other.

  “At each corner of the field,” Vanessa continued, “the counselors will be holding up a card with potential ANSWERS to each question. The team who gets the most answers correct wins twenty-five points!”

  A huddle was in order.

  “I got this,” Jo said, poking her chest.

  April looked at Jo. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe we should do it together,” April offered.

  “I like this plan,” Molly said, feeling neither here nor there about being in a giant hamster ball.

  Ripley gave a thumbs-up. “You guys are awesome!”

  April held out her left hand for a patented April and Jo handshake.

  Which goes a little like this.

  And with that, Jo speed-walked onto the field.

  “I think I know how to make the ball move at maximum velocity!” Jo shouted.

  “Okay, well, how about dialing it back!” April huffed. “Until we get on the field!”

  By the time April caught up to Jo in the center of the massive croquet arena, Jo was already shutting the door on the giant hamster ball, locking herself inside.

  Jo tapped on the plastic. “Kick up!” she shouted. “I’ll do the rest.”

  “Hey! There’s no ‘I’ll do the rest’ in team,” April said, tapping back on the plastic. She also wanted to shout, “WHAT THE MAE JEMISON IS GOING ON WITH YOU?”

  But there was no time.

  “On your MARIA!” Vanessa hollered. “GET SEEMA!”

  “GERTRUDE!”

  “First question!” Jen shouted into the megaphone. “I am a very small solar system body made mostly of ices mixed with smaller amounts of dust and rock and I am hurtling . . .”

  “It’s a COMET!” April screamed, turning the giant ball in the right direction. “COMET! COMET! COMET!”

  “I GOT IT!” Jo spotted the counselor holding up the sign that read COMET. “GO!”

  April gave the hamster ball a whopping April-size roundhouse KICK and Jo, holding her hands out to keep herself steady, began running as fast as she could, looking not unlike a frantic giant hamster, neck and neck with Wren from Zodiac, heading to the west corner of the field.

  “I’m just going to say it,” Molly said, watching Jo human ping-pong from corner to corner, “I’m really glad I’m not in a hamster ball right now.”

  Mal nodded.

  “Why is it called a hamster ball?” Castor asked, sitting on Ripley’s shoulder.

  “We put hamsters in balls like that sometimes,” Molly said.

  “I BEG YOUR PARDON, YOU DO WHAT?”

  Several questions later, the score was tied: three questions right for both Zodiac and Roanoke, with Dartmoor and Woolpit in a close second with two correct each.

  Ripley gripped her hands together. “Last question,” she whispered.

  A hush fell over the field.

  Zodiac crossed their fingers and toes.

  On the field, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a cheese knife.

  Hes stepped back and prepared to BOOT. “We got this, girl!”

  “We’re tied,” Jo fumed, fogging up her hamster ball as she paced. “The only way to win is to get there first!”

  “FINAL ANSWER,” Vanessa hollered, holding up a giant card, “Is the name of THIS CONSTELLATION! AAAAAAAND GO!!!!”

  April squinted, her brain gears furiously whirring. “What the junk is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Jo could feel sweat beading on the back of her neck.

  Zodiac was already rolling, bounding across the grass.

  Jo blinked. “It’s Cygnus!”

  April spun around, trying to get a better look at the other answers. “Are you—”

  “It’s Cygnus, the Swan!” Jo shouted. “Give me a kick!”

  “Okay.” April took several steps back, winding up. “One APRIL SPECIAL comin’ up!”

  And with that, April gave the biggest boot anyone has ever give a hamster ball in the history of time.

  “Oh goodness.” Castor hopped up onto the top of Mal’s head, clutching her paws together. “Where is she going?”

  Ripley covered her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  April’s massive boot sent Jo hurtling across the field.

  “She’s going in the wrong ruddy direction,” Castor said, just as Zodiac rolled into the correct answer, Cassiopeia, to win.

  CHAPTER 20

  The Lumberjanes have a rich history of magnificent, and sometimes strange, inventions. One of the most prolific Lumberjane inventors, prior to Jo, was Mary Margaret Wollstonecraft Pomodore III, who invented one of the first time machines.

  Before disappearing into a puff of purple smoke one night, while holding what many claimed was a light bulb in one hand and a box of chocolate cherries in the other, Mary Margaret had often argued that time was mostly an annoying thing that a person should be able to alter.

  Mary Margaret was very fond of “redos,” in basketball, golf, and life, and many wondered what wrong it was she had disappeared into history to right.

  Probably we will never know.

  Listening as Zodiac cabin celebrated their victory with several rounds of the Pointer Sisters’ “I’m So Excited” on the accordion, Jo knew EXACTLY what she wished SHE could go back and redo if she had a light bulb and Mary Margaret’s secret notebook (which was actu
ally hidden . . . not that far from where Jo was sitting).

  April sat down, carefully, next to Jo. “So. I think I know the answer to this, but, if I asked you what was going on would you have no comet?”

  “No comet,” Jo said, looking up at the sky full of constellations she did know, like the Big and Little Dipper.

  “Generally speaking, you’re not usually the ‘I have to win’ person in the group,” April observed, while also observing Jo’s face. “That’s kind of my claim to fame.”

  “I just thought it would be a nice thing,” Jo said, still looking at the sky. “To win.”

  “Sure. But. There will be other quests,” April said, patting Jo on the back. “Other victories. Right?”

  “Sure,” Jo said, although it was hard to say that and look April in the eye, so she looked at the moon instead, which was looking back down at Jo like the giant all-knowing eye the moon can be on a clear summer night.

  It was the smallest “sure” Jo had ever uttered, about the size of a sliver of cheese left on a plate, too small for a piece of toast or even a cracker.

  Under the same moon, Castor and Ripley sat in the courtyard, munching from a snack plate that was almost out of cheddar and crackers.

  “So, you know a lot about stars, huh?” Ripley said, brushing crumbs off her shirt.

  “Oh, yes I suppose so,” Castor said, adjusting her vest. “I spend quite a bit of time with them . . . at home.”

  “I spend a lot of time with my brothers and my sisters and my mom and my dad and our cat,” Ripley said. “At home.”

  “Do you miss them?” Castor said, looking up at the stars.

  “Sometimes,” Ripley said, taking the second-last bit of cheese. “But mostly I love being at camp because camp is the best.”

  Castor took a nibble of her cheese, clutched in her little claws. She was still amazed how it was just being handed out willy-nilly. “What’s your favorite part? Is it Jazzysize?”

  Ripley wobbled her head. “I don’t even have a favorite part. Because every day is a favorite part? Like sometimes my favorite part is a waterfall. Sometimes it’s a T. Rex. Sometimes it’s climbing a tree. Sometimes it’s swimming with April and Jo and Molly. Sometimes it’s dancing with Bubbles. Sometimes it’s discovering something new. Sometimes it’s doing something I love doing again . . .”