The Adventure of a Lifetime (5 page)

Betty held up her right hand as if she were doing the pledge of allegiance and promised, “I won't do anything. You'll barely notice I'm here, I promise.” But Amber merely chuckled, because she had a feeling that the new girl wouldn't be easy to deal with.

Amber started to walk away. She wasn't used to having guests, and already this one had tired her out. Zenthia dutifully followed and Betty trailed behind the female lion cautiously. She had so many questions to ask Amber, yet she didn't want to die before she had the chance.

Zenthia went to Amber's side and growled at Betty when she finally came into the house. Amber was sitting on the dilapidated couch, and, even though Betty wasn't anxious to, she sat down next to her, backing far away from Zenthia.

This was the first room Betty had been to in the house, but only now did she pay attention to it. It was a mess—but Betty wouldn't expect more from a girl in the middle of nothing but wilderness.

Since the one window in the room was literally a hole in the wall, it had no glass and let in a cool breeze. The couch was patchy as ever, and the floor was covered with a large rug, stained and dirty. The air smelled of dust and mildew, and Betty wrinkled her nose in disgust. Why couldn't she and Amber have stayed on the balcony? At least it smelled better. Other than that, the room was bare. Not even a light switch interrupted the impossibly white wall. Betty guessed Amber didn't receive electricity out here.

“So, Amber—” Betty started.

“How do you know my name? It would be understandable if you were one of the bad guys, but I've never even seen you. Who the heck are you?” Amber interrupted.

“I told you, I'm Betty Hilmar,” but the reply didn't suit Amber.

“No, I mean who
are
you? What do you like? Even though I'm not really excited about you staying here, I want to be a good host.”

Amber didn't look like she knew what a host was. A host doesn't threaten to injure you when you come onto her balcony asking for help. And another thing—Amber was blunt.

“Well…I like your books, and I hate vegetable sandwiches and, um—” It was a question with so many answers and Betty sounded dumb. She was grateful when Amber interrupted.

“Wait—I haven't written any books.”

“No, I mean I've read about you in books.”

“What do you mean you've read about me in a book? How could you possibly know about me? I'm supposed to be the most secret person in the whole world!” Amber roared.

Betty was confused. Didn't Amber know that her whole world was just a book created by an author? She was just a character—a puppet almost, created to think and do whatever Lana Mungo wanted. Amber, apparently, didn't look at it that way.

Sure, she wondered why she didn't have friends, or why she wasn't like everyone else, and why she even had to go on these seemingly purposeless adventures anyway. Yes, she knew it was to fight evil but why her, of all people? Sometimes, Amber did feel like a puppet in somebody else's hands, as if her fate and destiny weren't her own, but what others wanted. Still, whenever that thought came, she shook her head and refocused herself, and began to climb down a tree or wade to the other side of the river (because she was often facing an obstacle when these thoughts occurred.)

“You are, you are! Just…” What? What could Betty say? “Remember that one adventure you went on? The one through the Forest of Night? Well, uh, I was there. In the trees. Way up high. You probably couldn't see me,” Betty added for clarification.

“You were in the Forest of Night?”

“Yeah? So?”

“It's just, you're so…girly!”

“What do you mean?” Betty asked defensively.

“I mean, you got freaked out by a lion!”

“Oh, right! Because I was supposed to stay super-calm when she tried to tear off my face!” Betty said sarcastically.

Amber just chuckled, and then got back to the point.

“Well, it'd all be fine if you said you'd saw me—though, if you say anything about that, I'm gonna have to kill you,” Amber said. “But you said you
read
about me,”

“Did I? I meant to say I've seen you,” Betty corrected herself smoothly, but Amber was hesitant to believe it. This girl—Betsy something?—was already causing trouble. In her opinion, all visitors caused trouble, which was why she had chosen a secluded spot in the Horrifying Forest—which wasn't that horrifying, really—to build her house.

“Uh-huh,” was Amber's reply. Betty was terrified. Was she boring Amber?

They were silent, each lost in her own thoughts, Amber probably thinking about her guest and Betty thinking about her host. Betty was so excited to be here, but she didn't know if she really was. It wasn't scientifically possible to travel by book, right? Maybe this was just another dream?

Slowly, her thoughts began to unravel. What if she was really here? What if this book world was actually real and her world was the fake one? How would she survive here? Would she be stuck here forever, possibly brainwashed by Lana Mungo and put under her control? Had Amber come from the real world too, but been brainwashed to play the role of the amazing heroine? Did the amazing heroine really exist, if Amber wasn't here from the beginning? What? Betty was confusing herself. She didn't know what to think anymore, but, as she put her hand to her stomach, remembering the meager peanut butter and jelly sandwich she'd had for dinner, she knew she needed food.

Just as she was about to ask Amber if she could have some food, something in the house rang. It was very loud and sounded like an annoying doorbell. Betty put her fingers in her ears, but she could still hear it.
Why
won't Amber open the door already?
Betty thought. Then, she realized Amber didn't have a doorbell. It was described right in the first book.

Amber's house was a rickety building about two stories high, with green shutters and a chipped door with no doorbell in sight.

So what was the loud, irritating noise? Betty glanced over at Amber, who was fumbling around in her pocket but otherwise seemed rather calm.

Betty watched as Amber drew out her legendary cell phone—not the regular one she used, but the one just for her heroine-type stuff. That was what it was! This was the special top-secret phone she kept in her safari jeans pocket, the one that enabled her to hear about everything that was going on in the world, the stuff the news didn't bother to report.

Slim, green, and made of this super-shiny material, it was Betty's dream cell phone. However, every cell phone was Betty's dream phone, considering she didn't have one. Amber touched the screen, held it to her ear and tucked it behind some strands of hair, leaving it almost unnoticeable. Amber went on the balcony again. Zenthia took no interest, but Betty followed.

“Uh-huh.” Amber's conversation was short and quick, and she had closed the cell phone and tucked it back in her pocket before Betty reached her. She was silent for a moment, and Betty didn't know if she should say something or not.

“Well, I guess I have a mission. I have to reach the Portal to the Future before Doctor Sly does,” Amber sighed.

“Who's Doctor Sly?” Betty questioned, curiously.

“Another archvillain. He wants to reach this portal called ‘The Portal to the Future.' Do you know what it does? Takes you to the future! Clever name, huh?” Amber said sarcastically. Looking at Betty's blank face, Amber asked, “You do know what sarcasm is, don't you?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Don't you remember? I used it? But…why does Doctor Sly want to get to the Portal of the Future?”

“He thinks there's a special gizmo in the future that can control all human minds.”

“Oh,” was all Betty was able to say.

Betty still didn't really have any clue about who Doctor Sly was, and Amber didn't seem eager to explain, so she let it be. Even though she didn't want to admit it, Betty was happy Amber was starting a mission. Maybe Betty could go along with her and experience the adventurous life she had always wanted.

Glancing at Amber, Betty thought she saw unhappiness on Amber's face. Looking again, Betty realized she was right.

“What's wrong?”

“Why do you care? You're not the one who has to save the world,” Amber spoke quietly.

“Why can't I help?” Betty demanded.

“This isn't fun and games,” Amber said.

“I know that,” Betty protested.

“This isn't what you think it is. Do you know how I feel? Sad, angry—why am I the only one to do all this? Nobody thanks me. Nobody cares. It's too much pressure. I'm only ten!” Amber screamed.

Betty didn't say anything; she was speechless. All this time she had thought she had known Amber, but it turned out Betty didn't know her at all. Amber didn't like going on missions? And Amber thought she was real and not just a book character. She was a book character, right?

“Betsy,” she continued. “This isn't pretend. This, this is real adventure.”

“Anyway, I
guess
I have to go, don't I?” Amber whispered.

Betty nodded.

“That's what I thought,” Amber sighed, and then she disappeared into her house.

Amber soon returned, carrying a small purple backpack, two water canteens that she stuck into its pockets, and what looked like an old map. Betty recognized all of these objects because Amber's last adventure had started exactly the same way.

“Okay, Betty, I have a deal for you. If you promise not to get in my way, I…I guess you can come with me. It might be nice to have company and well, if there's a possibility of getting killed, I can always send you first,” she laughed.

“Oh, thank you, Amber, thank you!” Betty was sure Amber was being sarcastic about the whole killing thing. At least, she hoped so.

Betty hugged Amber until Amber pushed her away with a powerful shove.

“Okay, kid. Back off and let's read the map.”

Amber pulled out a fragile map, old and crumbly, hand-drawn in the finest ink.

“Well, let's see!” Amber said, as she looked at the map. “This says the Portal to the Future is in the Mountains of the Old. We're going to have to walk there, you know, unless my agency sends some new material.” Amber still sort of hoped she could make Betty scared enough to not come along, but the other girl just nodded. “Have you been to the Mountains of the Old?” Amber asked Betty.

“No,” Betty replied.

“Neither have I,” Amber said, half-smiling at Betty. “But anyway, I've heard only a few people visit and reach the top, and even then, they usually don't return. Very contradictory, don't you think, the Portal to the
Future
being in the Mountains of the
Ol
d
?” Amber said, raising an eyebrow.

It was quiet for some time. Was Amber trying to scare her? She hadn't looked like she was joking. Either way though, Betty was still going with Amber to battle crocodiles and save the world. This was her first and probably last chance at adventure, and she wasn't going to waste it.

“Say, where do you come from?” Amber asked suddenly.

Betty forgot that Amber didn't know about Betty's world and said, “Plainfield.”

“Plainfield,” Amber repeated, clearly thinking. “Well, I've never been there before.”

Betty did not go into details about Plainfield because Amber probably wouldn't understand the world that Betty came from. And it probably wouldn't be half as exciting as some of the places Amber has visited.

“Well, you know, Plainfield sounds like a safe place. Where I live, it isn't safe. Vultures are ready to eat your flesh. Vines are ready to tangle you in their grasp. You know, the usual.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” Betty asked knowingly.

“What! Of course not! Who do you think I am?” But Amber didn't say anything frightening anymore.

“Well, to get to the Mountains of the Old, we have to cross a bridge, row down a river, and get across a volcano,” Amber said, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. Even though Amber made it sound like it was nothing, Betty knew that it wasn't going to be that easy. It was never easy.

“Okay,” Betty said, and her tummy growled. “Amber, um, could we eat first?” Betty asked.

“I have some food in the kitchen. By the way, let me get you another pair of clothes. I don't think pajamas will be able to withstand all that we're going to go through,” Amber said disdainfully, staring down at the freaky girl with smiley-face lounge pants. She went inside the house, leaving the map and bag lying on the floor of the balcony. Reluctantly, Betty followed. She hadn't had time to explore the kitchen, but she wasn't going to underestimate it—after all, the rest of Amber's house was pretty cool.

Once in the kitchen, Betty realized it was decorated like a rainforest. A green tablecloth covered a wide table that seated four, and what seemed to be like real tree branches covered the cabinets. A picture of a toucan was stuck on the wall.

“Wow, this is amazing!” Betty said, her mouth open in wonder.

Amber didn't say anything but gave a small smile as she climbed on a white stepstool that had been hidden in the pantry. She pulled out some bread and a jar of red paste from the cupboard. She smeared the red paste on the long loaf of bread and then reached for her dagger, which was on the belt around her waist. She sliced the bread into two, put the two pieces on separate plates and carried them to the table.

Betty knew what was being served since she had read the first Amber book. The reddish paste was alligator jelly and the bread was, thankfully, just bread. Amber stuffed the bread with the paste in her mouth like she hadn't eaten in years. Betty, however, closely inspected the food and then seeing how much Amber had liked it, she put some of it in her mouth too. It was disgusting, like, well, how you would expect alligator jelly on bread to taste, if you could even expect anything at all. Betty wasn't going to complain—her comment might be insulting to Amber. However, there was awkward silence, and Betty felt like saying something.

“Um, it's really good!” Betty finally blurted out.
It
was
only
a
tiny
lie, right? That couldn't do much harm
.

“Why don't you eat some more,” Amber suggested.
Uh-oh. Maybe it could
.

“I'm full,” Betty lied. She was still hungry, but would rather eat one of her mom's vegetable-loaded sandwiches instead of what she had just been served.

“You just ate one bite though. You said you were hungry,” Amber said.

“Well, yes I was. But that one bite was just so filling.” Betty then handed Amber the rest of her food.

“Oh, okay,” Amber said, and with that she stuffed the terrible bread with jelly in her mouth.

Once finished, Amber said, “I'm going upstairs.”

“I'll come too,” Betty suggested, but then she felt the urge to throw up. It was the alligator jelly, as little as she had eaten. In the small kitchen it was easy to run to the sink. Betty pulled the handle, ready for the cool water. But none came. Now she really needed water. Fast. Betty ran outside. Her search for refreshing water was rewarded—she saw a well made of stone. It was no taller than she was. She reeled the bucket down and then back up, glad her grandma had a well, too, so she knew how to operate it. Dumping the water on her tongue, she relaxed.

Amber emerged giving Betty an odd look.

“What's wrong, Amber?” Betty asked, wiping water dripping from her chin.

“Why are you dumping water on your face? Don't people in Plainfield drink water out of glasses? Anyway, here are some clothes for the journey. Oh, and some shoes too.” Amber handed Betty a green shirt and camouflage pants similar to her own.

“Thanks, Amber,” Betty said. After she had changed into Amber's clothes, the two girls headed to the balcony. Betty spent a minute taking in the wilderness air, staring at the dense, crowded forest with its drooping leaves, and weathered tree trunks. She had come to like Amber's little hideout in the woods and was sad to leave, even though she was excited, not to mention a little nervous, about starting the journey. Still, Betty had been in a forest like this once. Maybe that was why she liked it. In the forest she had gone to though, her grandpa had kept telling jokes, with her grandma telling him to shut up and Betty's dad interrupting each time his parents were on the verge of argument.

That was before Betty's grandpa had died though.

“So, do you want to go now?” Amber asked, interrupting Betty's thoughts.
Leave? Now?
Truth be told, Betty was scared. But she had to go now. After all, she had promised Amber. Would Amber really care if Betty joined her? Probably not. But Betty would care—yes, Betty would mind.

“S-sure,” replied Betty.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Amber's door.

Amber gave Betty a questioning look, as if to say,
Are
any
more
people
coming
the
way
you
did?
Betty shook her head curiously. Amber went and opened the door.

A large cardboard box about half the size of Betty sat on the forest floor. It didn't have a return address, or a sign of where it came from. Amber touched it with her pinky, as if testing it for an undetected sensor-activated explosion. Deeming it safe enough, she opened the box.

For a large box, it had small contents. Two metal balls rolled around the base of the box. A red button was worked into both of them. Betty reached for one curiously, but Amber scooped them up and out of Betty's reach. She set them on the forest floor, where they looked like a robot dog's chew toy.

“What is that?” Betty finally asked.

“My arlyers,” Amber answered.

“Huh?” Betty questioned.

“My agency always sends me new technology to try out. These are my arlyers. They're sort of like giant wings. Looks like they've made a mistake, though—they sent two instead of one. Well, that's good for us,” Amber laughed.

“You might want to back away,” Amber said. Betty did as she was told and watched as Amber clicked the red button in the middle of one of the metal balls. Betty saw the ball expand into giant wings. They were probably both four feet in height and six feet in width. They were made of metal, these arlyers. Shiny metal. Betty circled the arlyers so she could observe them better. On the inside was a battery pack, and a green button and a bar were located by the straps. She didn't touch them, afraid Amber wouldn't want her too.

“This is so cool,” Betty finally breathed.

“Right? I heard they even return to you when you whistle. And since they sent two, we're at an advantage. C'mon, pop open the other one, strap it on, and let's get going,” Amber urged.

“Now?” Betty squeaked.

“Yes, now,” Amber said impatiently.