NO ORDINARY OWL (6 page)

When her family moved at the end of the school year, she, Esther Martin,
would not be a S.A.V.E. Squad girl
. A hard knot of ick curled inside her along with a pinching of bitterness. It wasn’t fair.

Gradually, her brain cleared enough for her to decide that since her life would be over when she moved at the end of the school year, the Squad had to finish one final brilliant project.

The owls.

Talking Crazy

S
hould I tell them? Should I not tell them?
Clutching her terrible secret and coming in dead last, Esther climbed off her mountain bike at the black-iron gate the next day and collapsed, gasping. “Guys—
gasp
—was it necessary to race
all
the way from the library?” She lay on the semidry leaves and gravel and heard the girls giggle.

Aneta carefully set down her bike and pulled off her helmet. “Esther, we still had fun coming in last.”

“No, you still were ahead of me. I was last last,” Esther called from her prone position.

“My dad says the more you move your molecules, the better your brain solves problems,” Vee said. She and Sunny had been wheel to wheel right until the black-iron fence began at the Beakes’ property, when sturdy Sunny groaned and pumped two quick pedals to pull ahead.

If Vee’s dad was right, Esther thought, making herself breathe slowly, but not so slowly that she passed out, she would be a genius by the time they rode home. She’d moved her molecules more with the Squad than she’d ever done in her life. The Squad never walked, they ran; and they never coasted, they pedaled. Hard. Fortunately, her plan to get the Beake Man to let them see the owls involved no running or jumping. It was all in the brain.

It had to work. School would be out the second week of June and then, well, and then everything would fall apart. The owls
must
be their final, best rescue.

“Esther, this is the craziest plan ever. I don’t think it’s going to work.” Off her bike and without her helmet, Vee eyed Esther with a doubtful expression. “It’s just plain—weird.”

In their previous adventures, she and Vee had often butted heads because they both thought they were the smartest girls in the Squad. If any of the girls were going to get into a bossy party, it was her and Vee. Vee thought all her ideas were great. Well, Esther had some great ideas, too.

Since this was the last mission, the plan
needed
to be crazy enough to work. Already, Esther was watching for “the last this” and “the last that.” Maybe this was the last time she and Vee would disagree?
Right
. She awkwardly struggled to her feet. On to the plan.

The four girls lined up, side by side, and faced the looming black fence. Esther handed out their parts. Vee pursed her lips. “I think we should agree that if he lets us in, fine. If he doesn’t…” Her voice trailed off.

“No!” Esther said it more loudly than she had intended. She had actually shouted it. “We must get in. It’s—” She searched for the biggest word she knew and found nothing. “Important.”

Sunny, Aneta, and Vee looked startled.

“Well, okaaaaay.” Vee’s mouth turned down.

Should she tell them right now that this was their last project? What if they felt sorry for her and went along? No, they had to do it because it was the right thing to do, a Squad thing to do—get in there and help the owls.

“Because he’s British, we’re going to show him we speak British. Then he’ll see we’re okay.” She stepped to the intercom and pushed the button. “Hello? Mr. Beake?”

An electronic squeal that preceded the rough and scratchy accented growl of Byron Beake made the girls jump. “I told you to never come back! Take your bikes and go!”

The girls looked around. Esther frowned. How did he know they were riding bikes?

Sunny bounced forward and punched the buttons. “Whoa, how did you know it was us and that we’re riding bikes?”

The metallic voice rasped, “Because I am watching you on a security camera. Now. Go. Away.”

Desperately, Esther stuck her mouth near the intercom, pushed the button, and read from her piece of paper. In her very best, newly practiced
British accent
.

“Ay-up, Mr. Beake!” She stepped away from the intercom and nodded to Aneta, who hurried forward.

“You might ’ave got a blinkered view, guv—”

Aneta’s British accent was better than hers, Esther thought approvingly. Aneta rolled her eyes and gave way to Sunny who had to press her lips together tightly to stop the laughter.

“—’bout wot we want to do,” Sunny said in the worst British accent Esther had ever heard.

Now it was Vee’s turn. She took a deep breath, plugged her nose, and read, “So wot do you say, me bright lad?” Stepping away, she tipped her head at the sky as if to say, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Nothing.

The girls waited.

Answer
, pleaded Esther silently. If she knew how to climb a fence and actually liked climbing a fence—neither of which she did—and if she could sprint, which she couldn’t—she’d leap over and race toward the house. The Squad
had
to complete their last mission together. Before she had to move.

Esther thought they were very patient, but the rasping, metallic voice didn’t return.

“He hates us,” Vee said.

Aneta nodded her head.

“How could he hate us?” Sunny sounded so puzzled the others laughed.

“I know. We are so cool. We have a history of helping animals. He must not know that.” Esther frowned.

A high-pitched buzz signaled a reply.

“Hi, girls. It’s Beverly. Loved your accents. My brother is opening the gate. C’mon in. Byron was”—a pause—“very touched by your trying to make him feel comfortable.”

The gate began to swing inward. Victory! The girls slapped their hands together up high, Squad bracelets on each arm. Walking in a straight line along the muddy road, the girls wondered aloud about what made him change his mind.

“I think his sister told him to be nice. That’s what Dad is always telling me. Be nice to the Twin Terrors.” Vee’s stepbrothers adored her. She was getting better about liking them but was a long way from adoring yet. She told the girls it was tough getting past them touching all her stuff when she stayed with them for Dad Weekends.

Sunny ran ahead to spin in circles, head tipped back. “I love this road. Guys, when you tip your head back and spin, you can see—” A giant stagger, and she was bottom down in a mud puddle. “Ouch!”

The girls raced to help her up. Now wet from the waistband of her jeans and dripping into her hikers, Sunny made a face. “Well, I guess I can’t recommend that move.”

In a few more moments, with Sunny walking “like a duck” as Vee said, they pushed open a low, creaking black-iron gate to the house and bounced up the stairs. Esther stepped forward and thudded the grumpy-looking gargoyle door knocker.

Slowly the door creaked open. Byron Beake stood in the doorway, the mask making his expression difficult to read. Was that a smile? The mask mushed out his lips. And was it a nice smile or an evil smile? She was glad Bird Lady was there.

Maybe it was a good thing they couldn’t read his face as he opened the door farther to admit them into the gloomy foyer without a word. She had a strong feeling “sister power” had made him open the gate. She made her brothers do stuff they didn’t want to do all the time. Well. Not all the time. Wouldn’t it be great if they did? She resolved to work harder on that. Especially with Siddy. It was hard to get Siddy to do anything he didn’t want to do.

Thinking of her brother reminded her of Sunny saying that Uncle Dave said Byron Beake was different, and that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe for him. She didn’t like being different. Being different meant she couldn’t bring the Squad to her house, and it meant that Melissa had a lot of things she could criticize her about. A bit of worry crossed her thoughts. The girls hadn’t seemed to notice that Melissa was talking about
her
joining
their
Squad. Esther was quite clear on that. She shook her head and shoved her hand in her pocket, feeling the reassuring crackle of paper. The Beake Man had to let them help. It was the last time the Squad would be together on a mission. Her eyes began to sting. She blinked quickly.

Byron moved to the fireplace, once again roaring against the damp cold of spring. Propping himself against the mantel, he simply watched the girls, his face aglow in the light. The fireplace felt wonderful. Its warmth reached out to Esther, and she wondered if where they were moving had rainy springs and mud puddles.

“So you want to help.” He made it sound like they wanted to burn down his house.

“Yes.” Vee stood in front of him, her hand furiously motioning Esther to do the same. Trust Vee to want to take over. The tight spot in Esther that began the night on the swing clutched.

Esther pulled the paper from her pocket and handed it to Byron. “This is our résumé of how we’ve helped other animals.”

“We love animals,” Aneta added.

“We love to help!” Sunny got halfway round in a spin until she caught Byron’s glare. “Oh. Sorry.”

“We have Frank and Nadine for references if you need them. Miss Beake knows Nadine.”

Beverly Beake entered the room carrying a silver tray with teacups and what Esther knew the British called biscuits, which were really cookies, and nodded. “I work with both of them with my bird education classes. They think the world of these girls.”

Sunny muttered, “Well, maybe not Frank.”

Aneta shoved an elbow into her friend’s ribs. Sunny yelped and leaped away, banging into a low side table with a shepherdess figurine. The table began to tip, and Sunny windmilled her arms. “Guys!”

Byron made a leap toward the table, but Vee’s long legs were already there, one hand on the table and one carefully holding the figurine in place.

“No problem,” she said nonchalantly. “So what do you think of our qualifications?”

At this use of
qualifications
, a slow smile oozed across his face. Mask or no mask, Esther didn’t like the looks of it.

Beake Man Is Up to Something

I
f you want to help with the two owls, you have to pass a test.” He rocked back on his heels.

“Byron.” His sister’s voice held a warning. He ignored her, stretching out a hand to the four who had retreated to their tight bunch. “Come on, I’ll show you the place. And how you can help the owls.”

They passed through the door back into the foyer and headed deeper into the house. They peeked in at a large kitchen on the right and a sunny room on the left. As they stepped out the back door, a low screech that sounded like a billion scraping metal nails on a metal auditorium seat smacked their ears.

The girls dropped to a crouch.

“We heard that from the road!” Sunny gasped, looking up at Beake Man with wide eyes.

“So you want to help birds, do you?” Beake Man said, the first chuckle bubbling out of his throat. “Well, the first thing to learn is that they are not pets, like those other animals you helped. They eat those animals. These are birds of prey.”

“What was that screech?” Vee stood and brushed off the leaves and mud from the knees of her jeans, grimacing.

“Sounded like a monster.” Aneta rose.

Esther scrambled to her feet as well. How could Aneta, tall, blond, and beautiful, not have her tan pants get dirty after dropping on the ground? Esther glanced down at her right leg where a long, brown, wet stripe was soaking into her leg. So not fair.

“It’s a peregrine falcon. He’s seen me and is saying hello.”

“You said they couldn’t be pets.” Vee’s chin rose a bit.

“He wasn’t born to be a pet. Let’s say we have a
tenuous
relationship. I feed him, and he lets me train him. Most of the time anyway.”

“How come he’s here? We want the owls to go back to being owls, not stay in a cage.”

“Ah, yes. The idealism of the young.” Byron folded his arms and regarded the girls. “People are most of the problem for why these birds can’t go back to the wild. These birds get shot, hit by cars, caught in horrible antibird sprays. They live, but they can no longer function in the wild. They would—” He paused, stroking the fine, sparse hairs on his head.