Portia's Exclusive and Confidential Rules on True Friendship (11 page)

9:05
P.M.,
A
VATAR
K
ITCHEN

M
rs. Longfellow samples a freshly baked Pomegranate Perfection. She and Indigo are finishing up a “long talk” about Misty's animal rescuing “situation.” When Misty and I walk into the room, Mrs. Longfellow reaches out to hold Misty's hand. Misty freezes in her tracks.

9:23
P.M.,
A
VATAR
K
ITCHEN

T
he mockingbird sings his loud nightly tune outside our open kitchen window while Misty gathers Sweet Sunshine and Ralphie, checking three times that they're in their respective portable mini-homes. She also collects her knapsack and her overnight bag. One conspicuous piece of Misty's belongings is missing, though. It's Maxine, who's upstairs under Frederick's watchful eye, resting comfortably. Indigo and Mrs. Longfellow both agree that the happy mother and her octuplets should stay at the Avatars' for a while, at least until the bunnies are old enough to travel.

Misty gives me a big hug before stepping into her mom's just-washed car. “I am so proud to call you my friend, Portia Avatar.”

From her opened backseat window, she calls, “Would you please give Maxine and the babies a kiss good night for me?” I stand at the edge of my pebbly driveway watching Misty, her mother, and her mother's shiny car disappear into the distance.

The Case of Misty Longfellow: The Mystifying Animal Rescuer is now officially closed.

Before I step inside, I take off my hat and tuck it in my side pocket. I feel for my postcard, which is still there. I take it out and study it.

Then I look up at the stars and think how badly I want to share my case findings with my extraordinary detective father. I start to count the sparkly miracles in the sky one by one. When I get to twelve, I look down and there's Frederick. He stretches his whole body up toward me until I'm forced to pick him up. I cradle him like a baby, rocking him back and forth. “Aren't the bunnies amazing, Freddy Fred Frederick?”

He licks my hand as if to tell me, “Thank you for bringing me all these new little friends. I know that they're going to fill up my life, like the way the stars are filling up the sky right now with their bright light and deep mystery.”

Frederick's purring competes with the lone mockingbird's song. I just stare at the universe above us and wonder what my family would look like if Patch were home with us right now. Would the sounds I'm hearing be different? If I stood in front of the mirror, would I recognize myself?

6:16
P.M.,
M
Y
B
EDROOM
, S
UNDAY

F
rederick takes a break from baby-bunny watch. He jumps onto my bed while I prepare for the big Patch Powwow tonight. He swipes at my hand as I create the itinerary for our discussion on my loyal PDA. Now that the Misty case is closed, I can focus exclusively on the case of my missing father.

I try to think about how to use this precious powwow time when I hear a familiar laugh downstairs. I cannot believe Rock is here again! I dial our phone number.

Indigo picks up after one ring. Surprised, she asks, “Portia, where are you?”

“I'm upstairs. Is he here again?”

“You mean Rock?”

“Shh! I don't want him to know that we're talking about him.”

“He stopped by to give us the wonderful news that the fires are finally under control. Isn't that beautiful?”

“Yes, it's great. Now please, Mom. He has to go now. We're having our powwow tonight, and he's not invited.”

“Of course. Hold on one minute.” She hands the phone to Rock. I cannot believe this!

Rock asks in a cheerful way, “Is this Portia Avatar, girl detective and math whiz?”

“Affirmative.”

Rock chuckles. “I'll just take a minute of your time. I know you've got an important meeting scheduled soon.”

“That's right.”

“Here's my proposal. We've got a dog at the station. His name is Mack.”

Pretending to care, I answer, “Uh-huh.”

“We're all dog people at the station, but what we really need is a civilizing influence. It can get pretty darn rowdy with just us guys.” He laughs out loud at what he's just said.

Still pretending to care, I mumble, “Uh-huh.”

“I'd like to adopt Miss Maxine as an honorary member of the Palmville Hook and Ladder Company No. 1. I understand Misty's mother won't allow any more pets, so I want to step in and make an offer. Once Miss Maxine is
finished weaning her bunnies, it would be my honor, and I speak for the rest of the guys too, to take her back to the station and give her a home there.” I'm stunned at first. This is not what I was expecting from the “I'm so heroic, look at my muscles” firefighter. Rock is thrown off by my silence. “Portia, are you still there?”

“That sounds awesome.” Then I gently hang up. After a handful of giggles from downstairs, I hear the front door finally close. I rush to the window and see Rock heading toward his red pickup truck. I find myself waving to him and shouting out my open window, “Thanks, Rock!” As soon as his truck zooms away out of view, I leave Maxine and her bunnies to check in with Indigo downstairs. Frederick is at my heels.

All I can think about now is what I will learn tonight about my mysterious family past.

6:44
P.M.,
A
VATAR
K
ITCHEN

I
set the table for three. The phone rings. It's Misty, checking on the bunnies. Indigo hands me the
phone but signals with her insistent brown eyes for me to make it short.

I lean back on the living room couch pillow and give Misty a full report on Maxine. She laughs when I tell her how Frederick is Maxine's new best friend, and how he keeps watch over the bunnies almost every minute of the day. And she's amazed that Rock and his firefighter buddies are going to adopt Maxine. She's already planning weekly visits to the station. Then my phone call is interrupted by an incoming message from Amy. I ask Misty to hold on while I pick it up. Cautiously I say, “Hi, Amy.”

Sensing a complete attitude makeover, Amy speaks softly and slowly. “I'm checking in on you and your new oh-so-secret case.”

“It's officially closed as of today.”

“That's too bad. I've got the final sketches for your fabulous new look. I guess you won't be needing them anymore. I even have some samples.”

“I'd love to see what you've got! You never know when I'll stumble on a new case.”

Amy tests the water. “Does that mean you won't be spending as much time with Misty?”

I respond, “Actually, now that the bunnies are here, I'll be seeing a lot of Misty.”

“Bunnies?”

“It's a long story.”

Amy's voice brightens when she says, “I've always wanted a bunny!”

“Really? Maybe you should come by and see them.”

“I'd love to. That is, if I'm welcome.”

I can tell that Amy is still feeling left out of the newly forming friendship triangle, even though I tried to explain to her that three is definitely not a crowd. So I suggest, “Let's all meet up after school tomorrow.”

Amy agrees and also informs me, “I've developed a few ideas to spice up Misty's look too. I think she's going to like what I've come up with.”

“Perfection…Misty! She's on the other line. I've got to get back to her.”

“Wait, Portia.”

“Yes, Amy?”

“I'm sorry.”

I smile to myself. I've never heard Amy say these words to me before in the history of our friendship. Then
I apologize. “I'm sorry too. I never meant to make you feel left out. You're so totally my BFF!”

I hang up with Amy and quickly switch back to Misty. “Misty? Are you still there? Do you read me?”

“I'm here!”

“Sorry about that. Now I've got to go to an important meeting for another case, the one about Patch. Before I hang up, there's big news to report.”

“Yes?”

“I found a new home for one of Maxine's little bunnies.”

“Who? Where?”

“Amy C. wants one.”

Misty's mood shifts. Suddenly she's quiet. “Oh.”

“It turns out she has new fashion concepts that she designed just for you. She wants you to see them tomorrow.”

Misty is truly mystified. “For me? I'm beyond amazed!”

“Oh, and I found another home for one of the baby bunnies too.”

“Awesome. I hope it's not too far away.”

“It's right here! Indigo is letting me keep one. Frederick has taken a real liking to the striped one. We're going to call him Tiger.”

“Fantastic! Oh no, I've got to go. My mom is actually making dinner for me and my dad tonight. It's a major miracle. Thank you and Frederick and Indigo for looking after Maxine and her little ones.”

“They're fitting right in to the family circle. See you tomorrow!”

Just as I hang up, my PDA lights up again. I'm convinced it's Misty, with a burning follow-up question about Maxine that can't wait until the morning, but I'm mistaken. It's Webster!

Bravely, I take the call. “Hello?”

“This is Webster. Webster Holiday. Did I wake you up?”

“Of course not. It's dinnertime!”

“Right. I knew that. About that question I was going to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“What are you having for dinner?”

My face crumples up like an old paper bag. “What?”

Stammering slightly, Webster continues, “Dinner. An evening meal usually consisting of several courses.”

All I can think of is, “Pomegranate cookies.”

“I see. Portia, I'd like to share something with you. It's about pomegranates.”

With great anticipation, I hang in there. “Oh?”

“The pomegranate is one of the earliest cultivated fruits. It has been traced back as far as 3000 B.C.”

I'm not exactly sure how to respond to this historical footnote. “I've really got to go now. We're having a special guest tonight.”

Insistent, Webster keeps talking. “About my question.” There's total silence on my end of the phone. Then
I hear, “What would be the probability of me walking you to school tomorrow morning?”

In a hurry to end this embarrassing conversation, I say, “Approximately one hundred percent.” And just like that, I hang up.

8:56
P.M.,
A
VATAR
L
IVING
R
OOM
: T
HE
P
ATCH
P
OWWOW

V
era and Indigo each lean on Indian silk pillows on opposite sides of our living room couch. I sit on the floor across from them reading and rereading the postcard from Patch. On the dark wooden coffee table between us are a few leftover Pomegranate Perfections and two clay mugs containing steaming hot herbal tea. With my free hand, I hold a small cup of hot carob milk and take a sip. We've made some progress in our discussion so far, but still nothing groundbreaking has resulted from our powwow. I can't stand the delicate dance around the subject any longer, so I decide
to shake up the party with a question. “Vera, where is he?”

Vera lifts her mug and takes a sip. “I don't know.”

Then I stand up and start pacing up and down the room. Frederick meows at me as I do this, then remembers he's on baby-bunny duty and quickly races upstairs to check on Maxine and her brood. “I thought you were here to help. Once upon a time, you were my friend.”

Indigo chimes in, “Patch could be anywhere, Portia.”

Then Vera dramatically places her mug down on the table and stands up. She starts pacing alongside me. “Portia is right. I can help. I know where Patch is!” I stop, frozen on the hardwood floor. She continues, “He's here with us right now.”

I'm not fooled for a minute. “Is this just another trick to avoid the subject?”

Indigo sits at the edge of the couch with a puzzled look on her face. Vera looks at Indigo and says, “Let's turn our attention away from trying to find a location for Patch. What if we create a shared memory of Patch for Portia instead? Maybe together we can offer her an image of him to help with her search.”

To my astonishment, Indigo agrees.

We settle back to our original positions in the room and soon the most romantic story of two young people falling in love for the first time comes to life before my eyes and ears.

I hold my breath as Vera begins, “Patch was a visitor from out of town on his way down the coast to help build a home for a family in need. He was gentle and charming and made me laugh.”

I can't contain myself. “What color hair did he have?”

I wish I had a pair of supersonic glasses so I could see what Vera sees when she describes Patch. “It was brown, but he had blue eyes. I remember how bright they were and how they sparkled when he spoke.”

I put my hand over my heart to slow down its race-car speed. “What was he doing at your store?”

Smiling, Vera tells me, “He was collecting things for the house he was about to build.”

“Where?”

“I never found out the name of the town. Anyway, he moved on from there after a few months. That's when
we lost touch. He wrote that postcard just after he left California.”

I gently slide my hand over the front of the postcard and take a closer look at it.

Indigo takes a turn. “I was stopping by Vera's the day Patch first got here. I wanted advice on a new product line we were selling at the store. That's when I was working at Naturally Natural.”

Vera laughs. She looks over at Indigo. “Remember that truck?”

Indigo playfully rolls her eyes.

I continue with my line of questioning. I turn to Indigo. “What happened when you looked into each other's eyes?”

To answer this question, Indigo closes her eyes. “The first thing I noticed about him was that he was tan, which immediately told me he liked the outdoors.”

I find myself catching my breath, the way I would after a bike ride up a steep hill or after spending a long day at the beach. “He was tall, right?”

“Yes, he was tall!”

I feel warm, salty tears travel down my cheeks. “Why didn't you tell me that before?”

Vera quietly observes us when Indigo confesses, “This has been a painful process for me, too. I see how hard you work to find him, and I don't have anything to offer you.”

I stand up and sit next to Indigo on the couch, wrapping my arms around her.

“This is perfect!”

Indigo tears up. “I wish he could see how beautiful you are, Portia. When I close my eyes and picture Patch, I see a lot of you in him, especially your curious nature and determined spirit!”

I feel my heartbeat again with my hand and leave it there until it slows down to a normal pace. Patch is a part of me. He feels real to me, even though I can't see him.

Vera quietly excuses herself. “We made some real progress here tonight. I'll see you next week, that is, if I'm invited. I'd like to come on board to help with the search.” She reaches her hand out for mine.

I hold Vera's hand and lead her to the door, with Indigo right next to me. “Three is my new favorite number!”

10:03
P.M.,
M
Y
B
EDROOM

T
onight I heard the first chapter of the story of my missing father. I wonder how far a memory can travel, and how long it can last. If Indigo and Vera can recall details of what they remember about Patch more than twelve years ago, can other memories from that time be conjured up across the globe in Patch's mind too? Does my father think about Indigo or Palmville or Vera while he's riding on a fast-moving train across a rural countryside, when he's sitting on a white sandy beach squinting at the sun, when he's washing his hair in the cold blue sea, or when he drifts to sleep under a dark and endless starry sky? What ever happened to that rusty old truck?

I close my eyes and make a plan to dream about Patch tonight, to take the beginning of the story I just heard and imagine the ending.