I So Don't Do Mysteries (21 page)

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Oh great. Now I'm getting a noisy headache from the solution El Creepo Gary
dipped the darts in. I open my eyes and lift my head. It's still dark. Yellow moonlight sneaks in
through the cracked door. I guess I only zoned out for a few minutes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My poor pounding head.

Next to me, Josh and Junie lie unconscious on the ground. Josh moans low and cute.
Junie moans nasally and nerdy. If only I hadn't dragged them into the mystery.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It sounds like tapping on glass. What kind of headache sounds like that? What kind of
weirdness did Gary dart me with? Wait a sec. This is not happening inside my head. I look up. A
big-bellied wren is pecking at the window.

Grandpa! He's here. He's healthy. He's my hero. I'd
jump up and down with joy if I could.

“Grandpa, where's Mom?”

He stops pecking, then raises his head and stares at me. His little yellow beak opens and
closes, opens and closes. He's saying . . . something.

I don't have a clue what, because I can't hear through the glass. And
then there's my on-again-off-again prob with his bird talk.

“Grandpa, I can't hear you. Fly through the door. And speak
slooowly.”

He's back to the tap-tap-tapping thing. He stops. He raises his head. He stares.
He yaks. Then he goes back to tapping again.

I sniff. I shriek, “Mom! Mom! Mom!” I sniff again. Nothing.

I turn my eyes back to Grandpa, his tiny head bobbing back and forth, his beak
stabbing at the window, then opening and closing to squawk out something.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I so don't want to die now.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Junie and me have totally patched up our friendship.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

And then there's sweet, adorable, gorgeous Josh. We haven't even
hugged yet. Or kissed.

Suddenly a coffee smell floods the hut. And a humongous feeling of relief floods
me.

“Mom?” Her name catches in my throat.

“Sherry!” Her voice comes from the other side of the threshold.
“I'm here, pumpkin, I'm here.”

“Mom, you gotta do something!”

“Sherry, I can't get in the hut,” she says, all fake calm.
“You have to get yourself free.”

“I've tried everything!” I cry, all freaked-out.
“I'm totally taped up.”

“Have you tried twisting and turning your wrist?” Still fake calm.

“I've tried everything.” Still freaked-out.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Can you reach your ankles?” Less fake calm.

“I've tried everything.” More freaked-out.

Grandpa taps faster.

“Grandpa!” I yell. “Cut it out.”

“Wilhelm, we can't think straight with all your racket,” Mom
says.

He taps louder.

“That does it.” She blows out an exasperated breath. “Let me
talk to him.”

Within seconds, she's back at the doorway. “He says to take out the
crystal from Grandma. Then use the sharp point to stab the tape. Stab in time with his
tapping.”

“Oh,” I say.

“Oh,” Mom says.

“Good idea,” we say.

Behind my back, I walk my fingers along the zipper of my mini-backpack's
outside pocket. I slowly slide it open. I poke my fingers in, feel for the crystal and begin gently sliding
it through the opening.

The whole time, I'm talking under my breath. “Don't drop it,
Sherry. Don't drop it. You can do it. You can do it.”

And the crystal's out. I position it so that the rounded end rests in my palm and
the sharp end points at the tape around my left wrist. Then, using the crystal like an ice pick, I jab the
tape. Over and over.

In time with Grandpa's tapping.

I hear Josh and Junie stir, but I'm so concentrated on the crystal that I just keep
stabbing.

Then I add a twist. Stab and twist. Stab and twist. Stab and twist. At this rate,
I'm going to end up with a major injury.

I feel the fibers tear.

I return the crystal to my backpack and yank with my fingertips.

Yankity yank yank yank.

I can't believe it!

It ripped in half. The tape totally ripped in half. My hands are free. I did it. I
can't believe it. I so did it.

“Way to go, Sherry,” Josh says.

He's awake. He's okay. He's kissable.

I say to Josh, “Let me get my ankles, then I'll untape you.”

Once I'm free, I pry the tape off Josh's hands, and he gets to work on
his legs.

Junie's eyes are open. “Sherry?”

I snatch her glasses up off the dirt floor and glide them over her ears.

“Thanks.” She smiles, then grimaces.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, except for the fuzziness in my head.” She stares at me.
“You're incredible.”

I give a little swagger. “Thanks.”

While Josh and Junie're untaping, I poke my head out the door and whisper,
“Mom, Gary took the poisoned bananas. We gotta do something fast.”

“I've got an idea.” And she tells me.

“I like it.” I zip around the side of the building to Grandpa. “Go
get Gary.”

And he's off, flapping his stubby little wings at hummingbird speed, his beak
pointing straight out like a needle.

I race to the front door.

Like good-luck charms, the moon and dozens of stars shine high in the sky. The scent
of coffee lingers. Mom must've gone to help Grandpa. A light wind lifts the leaves of nearby
trees. A small animal rustles in the ground cover. Then all is still.

Until, from off in the distance, Gary yells, “Get lost, bird!”

Thumbs up for Grandpa. He found his target.

Gary yells again. He's closer. “Ow!”

I tear back into the hut.

Josh and Junie are free. They snap up their cells.

Then Josh says, “Let's get this guy.”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!”

He's headed back this way. I tell them the plan.

Josh opens the door wide. Junie grabs a roll of duct tape and crouches on one side of
the door opening. I pull on the end of the tape, stretching and twisting it as I step backward. Then I
crouch on the opposite side of the door opening. Junie and I hold the tape-rope supertight, about a
foot off the ground.

Josh snatches the frying pan from the backpack and waits by me, ready to spring into
action.

Gary shouts, “Get away, you stupid bird!”

We hear pounding footsteps.

Swatting at his neck, where Grandpa darts and pokes, Gary charges into the hut. He
trips over the tape-rope and falls hard. His head hits the corner of the table. And he's
down.

“I guess I don't need this.” Josh drops the frying pan on the
floor. “Let me do the honors.” He waves another roll of tape.

“Junie, grab a bottle of shampoo,” I say, unscrewing the cap off one as
I sprint through the door.

Outside, a crash of five rhinos meanders toward a pile of bananas, including a sparkly
turquoise + sea-green one.

I hurtle over to the crash, holding out the open bottle of shampoo.

The rhinos don't stop.

I pour shampoo into the palm of my hand, rub my palms together, then spread the
shampoo up my arms.

The scent of Sassy Girl melon fills the night air.

The rhinos don't stop.

“I'm on it,” Mom says. “I'm in their
thoughts.”

The rhinos stand still. Slowly, slowly, they turn their heads and watch me.

I dribble Sassy Girl on the ground. Then, still holding the bottle, I reach out my
shampoo-soaked arms. I talk to the animals in a low, soothing voice. “Come on, rhinos. Come
here, rhinos.”

Gradually the herd pulls a U-ey, stands and stares at me. I keep murmuring.

Ongava, the baby rhino, sniffs the air and steps toward me. Three females follow. The
last rhino eyeballs me, then ambles in my direction.

I walk carefully backward. Junie falls into step, holding out an open Sassy Girl bottle.
My mother is right there with me. My grandfather flutters above my head. With a shovel, Josh scoops
up the bananas and carries them into the hut. Opening a bottle on the run, he catches up with us and
joins in.

We make a strange, slow-moving procession across the moonlit SoCal savanna: five
rhinos, a pudgy brown wren, a ghost mother and three humans with open shampoo bottles.

I hang up
the phone Friday morning and pull a silver
package of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts out of its box. “That was Rob.”

“And?” Elbows on the kitchen counter, Junie leans forward on her bar
stool, waiting for my answer.

I tear open the wrapper with my teeth and tip out a Pop-Tart. “Great breakfast,
eh?” I take a bite.

“Come on, Sherry.” The back legs of the stool thump down as she
straightens up. “What'd he say?”

I chew slowly. Junie's fun to tease. “His boss brought him back early
from Yuma. Rob's writing the whole story for his newspaper. With a byline.” I stick a
striped straw into a can of Squirt. “He got the assignment because he knows us. Plus,
he'd already done a bunch of homework when he originally thought he might get a scoop out
of it. He'd heard about the unauthorized bananas from a friend at the Park. Since last night,
Rob researched Keflit. He told me it kills animals so fast the poison doesn't have time to mess
up the meat or the horn.”

“Incredible.” Junie has this appalled look on her face. “Did he
say what he's putting in the article?”

“Rob already talked to the police officers who responded to our nine-one-one
call. He's gonna report on the police taking our statements at the Park last night, on the
paramedics checking us out 'cause of the tranquilizer darts and on them checking out Gary
after he came to.” I slurp. “He's even going to call Josh's aunt so she
can tell her side of getting the call from the cops to pick us up and learning about us solving the
mystery.”

“I know what I want to tell Rob.” Junie waves her Pop-Tart.
“How great it felt when Gary confessed. And how exciting it was that the police captured
Gary's partner when he arrived at the Park with dry ice.”

“Thinking about that makes me feel sick. I mean, Gary and his partner were
actually planning to hack up a rhino right there at the Park, then transport it on dry ice to the
restaurant.” I shiver. “And they would've done it.”

Junie rubs my shoulder. “Yeah, the police said Gary and his partner're
already wanted in South Africa and Zimbabwe for poaching. They're bad dudes.”

“Rob told me the old people and the chef are in for questioning. And the San
Francisco police are looking for Dr. Kim.”

“Does your mom know?”

I shrug. “I set out coffee earlier, but she never showed.”

“Did Rob say what happened to Thomas?”

“He has a job interview at the Park.” I sip.

“Wow.” Junie bites into her Pop-Tart. “So, what was the deal
with him on the tennis courts?”

“From Sue, he knew about the bananas and about how Damon hassled Kendra
over her rhino commitments. Plus, Thomas said the rhinos were acting weird.” I sip again.
“Anyway, the first banana drop happened after Kendra arrived in San Diego. Thomas thought
Damon might be involved, so he was spying.”

“I bet Kendra and Damon break up.” Junie pushes the straw to the side
and chugs from my Squirt. “Do you think you'll stay in touch with her?”

“No, it's not like we're friends or anything. But it was nice of
her to give me a ride that time.”

“Did you at least invite her to the beach?”

“Sorta. Through Sue. Sue phoned this morning when you were in the shower.
Gina's finally in labor. Depending on how that goes, Sue, Thomas and Kendra might make
it.”

“Very cool.”

“Oh, and Junie,” I add, all fake nonchalant, “Rob's
bringing a photographer to the beach to get pictures of us for the paper.”

Junie's eyes grow wide. She screams.

I scream.

We hold hands and disco-dance around the living room.

I sing at the top of my lungs,
“I'm a Fearless Rhino Warrior! Watch
my moves!”
And I do a few ace karate leaps and air chops while Junie pirouettes.

“Shut up.” Amber stomps into the room. “Shut up. Shut
up.” Then she crumples to the pink carpet and bursts into tears.

Junie and I stare at each other.

Junie tiptoes over to her cousin and kneels down.

Amber flops onto her back. Smudges of mascara and emerald eye shadow ring her
puffy eyes. The rest of her face is red and splotchy. Very unglam. Very un-Amber.

In a soft voice, Junie asks, “What happened?”

Amber gives a huge, mucusy sniff. “He dumped me.”

“The twenty-one-year-old guy?” Junie asks.

She nods, sticking out her lower lip.

I'm usually ultrasensitive, kind and understanding. But before I can get control
of my tongue, I pop off, “You barely knew him.”

Amber sits up and stares me down. “Have you ever been
dumped?”

“Well, no.” Until now, with Josh, I've never had a potential
dumper.

“It's excruciatingly painful. Like, way worse than cramps.” She
evil-eyes me.

“Hey, your eyes are brown.” I can't help it. Now that
I'm a master detective, details lunge out at me.

Amber says with attitude, “Haven't you ever heard of colored contact
lenses?”

“We need your help,” Junie says to Amber.

“We do?” I say.

Junie kicks me in the shin and whispers under her breath, “Hair, makeup,
clothes, photos, fame.”

“We do.” I nod a bunch of times.

Amber lies back down, lifeless, stringy blond hair fanning out under her head.
“Sorry, I'm too depressed.”

Junie gives a brief rundown of last night's events. She ends with, “You
invited a bunch of people to the pizza party on the beach this afternoon. They'll be
disappointed if you're a no-show. And you have to glamorize us. Rob wants to take pictures
of us for the paper. This is his big break as a reporter.”

“Rob'll be there?” Amber opens one eye, then closes it.
“No, my emotional state is, like, too fragile.”

“Josh is bringing his cousin who goes to college,” I say.

Amber opens both eyes. “Is he cute?”

“He must be.” I shrug. “He's related to
Josh.”

Amber bounces to her feet. “To the kitchen, girls.” She marches ahead
of us. “We have lots of work to do. Starting with me.”