Teddycats (6 page)

THE HUMAN
STOMPED
back into the darkness with a caged and braying Luke. As soon as Bill was sure he was gone, he blasted into full-blown panic mode. His mind raced as the world around him took on a threatening quality. Every branch and vine, every whistle and honk, every star in the sky and particle of mist announced fresh dangers.

Luke was right: Bill was soft. He was unprepared for daily battle with the most basic and even innocent elements of life in the jungle. He hadn't respected the ever-present dangers. He hadn't even noticed most of them. It was a ruthless place, always on the verge of violence, and now Luke's fate was the same as Elena's and Jack's. The jungle had spoken: Nobody was safe.

Bill could barely face the idea of bringing more bad news back to Cloud Kingdom. Maybe the Teddycats were better off without him. He should have let Joe take him, too. He should go right now and
surrender to Joe. Better yet, he should let the Olingos surrender him to Joe, have them negotiate a swap for Luke. Once Joe got Bill, he could focus on freeing Elena and Jack. Never mind himself. He didn't deserve to return to Cloud Kingdom, let alone as a hero. Besides, if Felix was right, the humans weren't going to stop coming after the Teddycats and their claws. Bill remembered the human's creepy call and shuddered. No wonder the Elders preferred to hide up in the clouds. Who wanted to face a monster like that?

The human's sour smell was stuck in Bill's snout. He rubbed at it furiously. But wait—that stink was useful intelligence. Bill let his snout tingle with the lingering traces of his hunter.

With a sinking gut, he realized what a fool he had been to think he could do this—save Elena, declare Cloud Kingdom safe for all of the Teddycats—alone. It didn't even matter if his heart was in the right place. Going off alone was just another way to shirk his responsibility, a decision as narrow-minded as the Elders' rule forbidding anyone to leave Cloud Kingdom. If Cloud Kingdom was to be saved, they would have to do it together: all the Teddycats joining up, with one plan and one goal. Bill—with the best intentions—had chosen to sneak out at night, but the truly brave thing would have been to stay until morning and rally the Kingdom.

Bill knew he was going to need help—lots of it—but who was going to help him now? Luke was gone,
lost to Joe. Maia was out of the question—he had already put her through too much, and besides, she had lost all trust in him. His parents would just punish him all over again for even giving voice to this idea. He needed guidance. He needed to seek out a bridge he hadn't burned yet, a heart he hadn't broken.

Suddenly, Bill slapped his head.

Of course!
Who knew more about the jungle than Felix?

THE OLD CAT
was up, puttering about the convalescence den. Bill wondered if he ever slept. Maybe the pain was too bad; maybe he missed his home too much. Maybe he was haunted by some terrible error in judgment. Was there
any
way to get through life at least somewhat unscathed? Was it possible to grow old and still have friends willing to talk with you and be seen with you?

Or maybe, Bill thought, Felix was just an early riser.

It was almost dawn, and the clouds were flushed pink with ascendant sun. But the beauty did little to soothe Bill. It only reminded him of all he had already risked and all that might still be lost. Instead of returning, triumphant, with Elena and Jack, he was back with a heavier burden than ever.

Bill poked his head in further. Felix did not seem
overly surprised to see him. “Good morning, Bill. How's the lockdown treating you?”

“Yeah . . .” said Bill. “About that.”

“You don't strike me as an isolationist,” Felix said. “Starting to chafe?”

“I've already violated the lockdown,” Bill admitted. “I didn't even last a night.”

“Hmm,” said Felix. “Did you have a productive trip?”

“It was a total disaster.”

“What happened?” Felix asked, his features creased with concern.

“I roped in a buddy to help me, and now he's been abducted,” said Bill, rushing to get the words out. “Same as Elena, same as Jack.”

“I see,” Felix said. “Your friend the Olingo?”

“That's right, you've met him.”

“I'm sorry to hear it.”

“I shouldn't have dragged him into it,” said Bill. “I just didn't know where else to turn.”

“So where do you turn now?” Felix asked.

Felix was easy to talk to. Bill felt like he could speak more freely with him, abandon all the filters he tried to run his thoughts through when talking with other Teddycats. Of course, those filters never really helped. Bill was forever jamming his paw in his mouth and then trying to kick up enough dust to cover his own tracks. But talking with Felix made him feel that
he had greater access to his own thoughts, the way he used to feel with Maia before things got so complicated.

“Honestly?” Bill said. “I feel like I have only two options.”

“Let's hear 'em,” said Felix.

Bill cleared his throat. The smell of the human still burned in his snout. “Okay,” he said. “Here goes. One: self-banishment.”

“Ouch,” Felix said. “And how does that sound to you?”

“It depends,” Bill said. “Sometimes terrifying, sometimes great, like I could just retire to my fort or head out someplace completely new and different.”

“But that's life as a Teddycat,” Felix said. “You'll always attract attention. You're new and rare and extraordinary.”

Bill followed the fantasy for a moment. “But what if I headed someplace quiet, and posed as a meerkat or something, and kept my claw hidden?”

Felix laughed. “Well, if that's your dream, I won't try to persuade you otherwise. But you do know that by doing that, you'd be following a long and frankly self-sabotaging Teddycat tradition, right?”

“And what's that?”

“Mistaking flight and hiding as anything other than a temporary solution. But never mind that for now. What's option number two?”

“Well, I actually don't even know,” said Bill,
overwhelmed all over again. “Another rescue mission, I guess.”

“Go on,” said Felix, one brow raised encouragingly.

“But a rescue mission would mean overturning the lockdown and challenging the Elders, and right now I don't have a whole lot of Cloud Kingdom support. I'm guessing most Teddycats would vote for option one.”

“Meaning banishment.”

“If things keep getting worse like this and I stick around, there's a good chance I could wake up in a stone-filled sack, sliding off the waterfall.”

Felix considered this for a moment. “I don't think they'll wish you away, Bill, let alone help you pack your bags. You're an important and valuable member of Cloud Kingdom.”

Bill scoffed.

“What? It's true,” Felix said. “You have friends and persuasive ideas and charisma, not to mention respected parents. And try as they might to deny or ignore it, the Elders need you. Successful societies
need
rabble-rousers and troublemakers, my friend. Otherwise there'd be no progress or evolution. If old farts like me and the Elders ran the jungle, the whole place would shut down an hour before sunset so we could soak our joints and complain about the weather. Not to mention, I don't think you'd last five minutes posing as a plain old meerkat, Bill. No matter where you go.”

“You're probably right,” said Bill, feeling a bit dizzy.

“Always happy to hash it out with you, Bill,”
said Felix. He stretched and smiled as sunlight—the full brunt of which was still relatively new to him as a jungle-floor dweller—spilled through the cracks of his den. “But I'm not here to steer you either way. You're free to do whatever you think is right. In my experience, disasters like these sometimes make a creature feel like the world is shrinking, when actually it's finally opening up. What I'm saying is, you definitely have more than two options.”

“Really?” Bill said. “Phew.”

“That said, I will give you a little bit of advice, because that's what old guys like me do.”

“I could use all of the advice I can get.”

“The Elders have a meeting this morning. They're scared, and they're ready to run. But that's
their
problem. If I were you? I'd look back to the history between the Teddycats and the Olingos. Think about how their split has echoed through the jungle, through the years. The jungle doesn't have seasons, Bill. Therefore, life cycles can take years, even generations, to come back around. So, what can Teddycats learn from the life and death of Horizon Cove that might prevent the death of Cloud Kingdom?”

Bill sighed. His head was spinning. “I'll think about that. Really, I will, Felix. But first, I need to talk to Maia.”

“Good luck,” Felix said.

BILL FOUND MAIA
sunning herself atop her den, a front leg draped across her eyes. This was one of the places she went to be alone, and Bill approached cautiously. She didn't acknowledge his presence until he climbed up the side and scooted over close to her, and even then it was silent, cold.

The two of them sat there for a long moment while Bill worked up the courage and spittle to speak.

“Is this okay?” he finally asked. “Me being here?”

“Everyone's looking for you,” Maia said, without glancing at him.

“I know,” Bill said.

He pulled nervously on the mud and straw below them, a bad habit that was prevalent among the Teddycats. A gathering of anxious Teddycats could pluck a meadow clean in a half hour flat.

“You're basically a fugitive,” Maia said.

“I'm not
trying
to hide, if that matters at all.”

She considered him coolly. “Well, you seem nervous.”

“I'm not trying to seem that way. And I'm not in hiding. You're not
harboring
me or anything. You won't get in trouble for talking to me.”

“Ha,” said Maia, mirthlessly. “First time for everything. So what're you so nervous about?”

Maia had this way of asking questions that landed like uppercuts. She could be very intimidating, which Bill had always admired about her (as long as it was unleashed on somebody else).

“Banishment, for starters,” said Bill. “Armies of stampeding humans.”

“I see,” said Maia.

Bill sighed. “All right, here goes: I went down to the jungle in the middle of the night. To look for Elena. I talked Luke into helping me, and then he . . . well, he was nabbed by a human.”

Maia's face fell again, and her head hung low against her chest. “Why does this keep happening?” she whispered. “What are we going to do?”

“Cloud Kingdom is changing, Maia. The jungle is closer than it's ever been before. I was talking to the jaguar . . .”

“Felix?”

“That's the one.”

“He's a good egg,” said Maia.

“Definitely,” said Bill. “Felix thinks I should just
keep trying with the Elders. In a respectful way, of course. To really make sure they see what they're giving up, and whom they'll be leaving behind, if they just run away and keep hiding.”

Maia seemed underwhelmed. “So that's the plan? You stroll up to the Elders and tell them to join you in a Bill Garra rescue operation? Despite a paw in every incident so far?”

“Look,” said Bill, ears burning, “I know it sounds crazy. And like a long shot. But I see now why I've been failing so miserably at trying to help. It's because I've been trying to go it alone. I thought I'd be saving others the trouble, but I just wound up putting Luke—and everyone else—in danger. But this affects all of Cloud Kingdom, not just me and the animals I'm close to. And if we're going to fix this, we've got to do it together.”

“I'm sorry, Bill,” Maia said, her eyes sad. “I just don't see what's so different this time.”

“It's hard to explain,” Bill said. He was frustrated. He wished he could show Maia how committed he was to saving Elena, but every time he tried, things just got worse. “But I swear, it
is
different.”

Maia just flicked her eyes up and down, taking in Bill's condition. “Think about it this way,” he said. “I've got nothing left to lose.”

With a jerk, Maia leapt up. She paced the sunny surface, veering closer to the edge with each lap. “That's your problem, Bill. You always think you've got
nothing to lose. You probably would've said the same thing before Elena and Jack and Luke were taken. Yeah, things are bad. But they can get much, much worse. What about your parents? What would they say if they knew you thought you had nothing to lose? What about me and the rest of my family? What about this whole place?”

“I
am
thinking about all that,” said Bill, giving her a wide berth. “That's exactly . . .”

“Meanwhile, whatever's going to happen will happen, no matter what prank you pull or speech you make to the Elders. So grow up, and leave me alone.”

Maia plopped back down again, looking exhausted now. Bill inched closer. Her pain was so obvious, it was like a fog.

“The Maia I know would be sharpening her claws, not sleeping in the sun.”

“Well, this is the kind of shape
I'm
in right now.”

Bill grasped his friend's shoulders. “Maia, please. I need you with me on this.”

He could see the answer in her disappointed eyes, but he still held on to some old, deeply buried hope.

“I can't do it, Bill,” Maia said. “I'm sorry. You're on your own.”

Bill was silent for a long moment, chewing his lip until he regained composure. “Well, that's your right,” he said. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“You're welcome,” said Maia.

Bill gave her an awkward hug, which she accepted. It felt superficial, absent of love or forgiveness.

“Hey, leave her alone!”

Bill wheeled around. There was Omar, down in front of the den, pointing and snarling.

“Just what I need right now,” said Bill.

“Haven't you done enough, Garra? Why don't you let this family grieve in peace?”

“I was just leaving,” said Bill.

“That's right, get lost,” Omar said.

“Omar, take it easy,” Maia said. “He said he's leaving.”

“I'm sorry, Maia,” said Omar, softening his tone. “I just can't stand to see you hurting like this, and then on top of everything else he's coming here and making everything worse.”

Bill turned back to Maia and away from Omar, trying his best to shut him out. There was one more thing he needed to say, and he needed Maia to believe it.

“Maia, I will fix this,” he said.

“Please, go,” whispered Maia.

Bill nodded and slowly retreated down the den's back slope. He reached the ground and cut through the sweetmoss patch, and soon Maia was obscured by sunlight. But he could still hear Omar on the other side of the den, crowing triumphantly: “That's right, you'd better run!”