by Adam Gidwitz
Mr. Braunfels almost dropped the box. “Heck,” he said. “That’s a lot of them.”
Indeed, there were about a dozen.
“Those golden eyes and yellow spines make them look really scary,” Elliot said. “But that’s just because people don’t know much about them.”
Uchenna added, “People are always afraid of what they don’t know much about.”
“And they drink blood,” Andrés added.
“So do mosquitoes,” Lupita retorted.
One member of the chupacabras family trotted all the way up to the fence.
“Do you think—” Elliot began.
“Su madre,” Andrés said.
Mateo translated, “His mother.”
Choopi’s whines became desperate, and he began scrabbling at the men’s arms, trying to escape.
Lupita started to count, and all the kids immediately joined in: “¡Uno, two, tres!”
Mr. Braunfels and Mr. Cervantes released Choopi. He sprang out of their arms and leaped at the fence.
His mother, on the other side, reared up on her hind legs and scratched at the wrought iron with her forepaws. Choopi threw himself against the fence once, and then again.
“Come on, little guy!” Dr. Cervantes said. Then Choopi found the spaces between the bars. He was just small enough to wriggle through. “There you go,” Dr. Cervantes whispered.
The mother chupacabras and her child danced around each other, leaping and yipping and whistling high, piercing whistles.
“That must be their happy whistle,” murmured Elliot. “I’ll write that down. Later.”
They watched the ecstatic reunion of the chupacabras family. The others had come out of the shade now, and Choopi was running from one to another, tackling them, rolling in the dust with them, and then jumping up and sprinting off to another one.
Mr. Braunfels sniffed heavily and dragged his arm across his eyes.
Andrés wasn’t even trying to hide his tears. They were running steadily and silently down his cheeks.
Mr. Cervantes put his arm around Dr. Cervantes’s shoulders.
Lupita put her arm around Mateo’s shoulders. He didn’t even shrug it off.
And then, behind them, they heard something that made the hair stand up on every human’s neck.
Whistling.
They spun around.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Emerging from the holes that had been dug in the earth of the hill facing the Río Grande were a half-dozen chupacabras. On the American side of the wall.
“What the—” Mr. Braunfels said.
“Did they all get across?” Mr. Cervantes said.
These new chupacabras were staring at the humans. One began to growl. Its yellow spines stood up on its back.
“Uh-oh,” said Elliot. “That one doesn’t look happy.”
Suddenly, the spines on the backs of all the chupacabras on the American side stood up, and the growls became shrill whistles. Shrill, angry whistles. The chupacabras started down the slope, toward the humans.
“¿Qué pasa? Are they going to hurt us?” Andrés asked.
“No creo, pero . . . it kinda looks like it,” Mateo answered, backing away. But then he stopped. His back had hit the iron fence.
“Nowhere to go,” said Lupita.
Indeed, the chupacabras on the flanks were hemming the group of humans in.
“I thought they didn’t hurt people?” Mr. Cervantes asked.
“There is so much we don’t know about these creatures,” Dr. Cervantes replied.
“I, for one, thought that they did not hurt people,” Professor Fauna added. “Should we run? Maybe we should run . . .”
But Bob Braunfels, in a very soft voice, said, “Hold on.” And then he pursed his lips and started whistling, quiet and low. The chupacabras all looked at him.
He kept whistling. Then he said, “Ain’t nothing to worry about, doggies. We’re friendly here.” And he whistled some more.
“He knows chupacabras whistles?!” Elliot hissed. “How?”
Andrés whispered back, “What are you talking about? That’s how he talks to all the animals on the ranch.”
Mr. Braunfels had his hands up, and was whistling sweetly and softly. The chupacabras were still coming toward the people, but they appeared less agitated.
Uchenna glanced over her shoulder. The chupacabras on the other side of the fence had calmed down, too.
“Okay, folks,” said Mr. Braunfels, “let’s just step to the side.” Following his lead, everyone sidestepped away from the chupacabras. Mr. Braunfels stopped whistling.
And the chupacabras charged.
But they didn’t charge the humans. They charged the fence.
The six American chupacabras ran down to the barrier, and the chupacabras on the Mexican side began jumping and running. The ones on the American side jumped and ran with them.
Everyone stared. Most of them felt very confused.
“Do we need to help them get back, too?” Lupita asked.
“I guess . . . ?” Elliot replied.
But Professor Fauna was shaking his head. “No, amigos. You do not understand.”
The chupacabras on both sides yapped and whistled and jumped and spun. It looked like they were dancing. Like a big family reunion. A big family reunion, with a wrought-iron fence running down the middle.
Dr. Cervantes wiped a tear from her cheek. “Don’t you see? We were all wrong. The chupacabras don’t live in Mexico and come across the border. Nor do they live in the United States. They live on both sides. They always have.” She sighed. “Governments create borders. But for families—of chupacabras and people—borders just keep them apart.”
The humans stood in silence, watching the chupacabras leap and play and whistle at one another, on both sides of the fence.
“¿Qué vamos a hacer?” Andrés murmured. “What are we gonna do?”
“About what?” asked Dr. Cervantes.
“About this.” He gestured at the chupacabras, their family reunion divided by iron. “We can’t just let them stay this way.”
“Amigo mío,” Professor Fauna said with a deep sigh, “this is a problem that the community of Laredo will have to solve.”
“The whole country is gonna have to solve it,” Mr. Braunfels added. He sighed heavily, too. “You know I believe in strong borders. But I gotta go with Andrés here. This isn’t right.”
“Why don’t we all go back to our house?” suggested Mr. Cervantes. “And see if we can’t start the process of figuring it out.”
Professor Fauna held up his hands. “Wait. I have one crucial question.”
Dr. Cervantes said, “Yes, Erasmo, tenemos más guacamole.”
The professor looked shocked. “How did you know I would ask about the guacamole?”
Everyone laughed.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Mr. Braunfels and Andrés followed the champagne minivan back to the Cervanteses’ house for some aguas frescas and fresh guacamole. Professor Fauna was very grateful.
“Rescuing mythical creatures works up an appetite,” he managed to say around mouthfuls of it.
The five kids had huddled around Uchenna’s phone, watching a livestream of the protest.
“So, what’s the news?” Bob asked, setting down his glass.
“Looks like the Schmokes got fed up,” Uchenna said.
“Yeah,” added Mateo. “They’re heading back to New Jersey. They released a statement that they’re passing on the job. Something about onerous rules and regulations about the colors of cranes?”
Everyone laughed, Dr. Cervantes the loudest of all.
Elliot stretched. “Speaking of going back to New Jersey . . . ,” he said.
Wiping green splotches from his beard, the professor nodded and stood. “Ami
gos míos, our time together has come to an end. But while we have reunited Choopi with his family, the work of the Unicorn Rescue Society is not done. We saw those chupacabras, separated by that wall. Until they are free to roam their natural habitats, their species is in danger.”
“As are all the cows around here,” Mr. Braunfels added.
“And so,” Professor Fauna went on, turning to Dr. Cervantes, “Alejandra. Surely, you see the value in our work now. Will you reconsider your decision? Will you join us again and seek a long-term solution for these chupacabras?”
She shook her head and stood up, looking him directly in the eyes, her expression severe. “You have a lot of nerve asking me that—” she began.
Mateo and Lupita took sharp breaths. Uchenna’s eyes went wide. Elliot thought about sticking his fingers in his ears in case she used adult language.
“Without asking my family to join as well,” Dr. Cervantes concluded, her eyes glittering.
It took Fauna a second to understand, then he laughed. “Oh, dearest Alejandra, of course!”
Bob Braunfels cleared his throat. “Erasmo, the Cervantes family ain’t gonna be able to do this alone. They’re gonna need assistance. From the whole community. On every side. Besides, I want to help.” He stood up. “I reckon you’re gonna need to induct me, too.”
“¡Y a mí también!” said Andrés. “Me too.”
For a moment, Uchenna thought the professor might start to cry. But he stood straighter, taller, and addressed the friends before him. He demanded of them all, “Do you swear to defend the imaginary and protect the mythical?”
“Yes!” they cried as one.
“Defende Fabulosa!” the professor intoned.
And the Cervantes family replied, “Protege Mythica!” Then they taught Mr. Braunfels and Andrés how to say it, too.
“¡Pues, bienvenidos, amigos míos!” Professor Fauna announced. “Welcome to the Unicorn Rescue Society!”
Soon everyone was hugging, and Elliot edged closer to the professor to ask the question that had been bugging him for hours.
“Uh, Professor . . . Can I be the editor of the Proceedings?”
Erasmo Fauna looked down at him with a wistful smile. “Ah, dear friend, I am afraid that publication is quite defunct.”
Elliot’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“But perhaps you and I can revive it. Yes. I believe I would like that very much.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The group spilled out into the driveway, where the Phoenix sat wingless and not particularly ready for the return journey.
“Keep the chupacabras safe,” the professor instructed, as he shook their hands one by one. “And be on the lookout for other creatures.”
“We’re going on vacation to Monterrey this summer,” Dr. Cervantes said, drawing Professor Fauna into an unexpected hug. “I’ll check on the gente pájaro for you, Erasmo.”
For a moment the professor held her more tightly, then he stepped toward the plane, calling over his shoulder.
“Elliot, Uchenna. Let us go. Your families will be unhappy if we are late.”
The sun was already sinking in the sky, just like Elliot’s heart. Impossible. We won’t make it. My mom will kill me.
Mateo bumped his fists against Elliot’s. “So, we’re down for a FaceGram this weekend, yeah?”
“A what?” Elliot rubbed his knuckles, confused.
Uchenna finished hugging Lupita and laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain it to him on the way home. Andrés, you’re part of the URS family now. We need updates. Weekly.”
Andrés smiled broadly, his eyes glistening. Elliot and Uchenna clambered into the plane and waved good-bye to their friends one last time as the professor backed the plane out of the driveway and into the street.
“Y allá vamos,” the professor muttered, fiddling with the radio knobs. “Back in time for dinner. I think I shall make guacamole.”
“There’s no way we’re getting home in time for dinner!” Elliot objected. “It’s a thirty-hour drive!”
“Time zones, mi amigo, time zones,” the professor assured him as they drove off. “They work wonders.”
“No they don’t!” Elliot insisted.
“They have on all our past adventures,” Uchenna pointed out with a shrug.
Elliot sighed.
“Pues, nada. Off into the sunset!” shouted Erasmo Fauna as the sound of mariachis filled the cabin.
“But this is the wrong direction!” cried Elliot.
No one was listening. Uchenna and the professor were loudly singing along to an upbeat mariachi tune.
And Jersey?
He kept staring out the window, his tongue flicking in and out.
A squeaky sound emerged. Elliot leaned in close, and he couldn’t help but smile.
The little guy was trying to whistle.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and most importantly, we would like to thank the people of Laredo, Texas. Both David and Adam have visited Laredo a number of times, and there are few cities on the planet where the people are more welcoming and warm.
Adam was first invited to visit Laredo years ago by Laura Gonzalez-Ortiz, teacher extraordinaire at George Washington Middle School. He told Grimm fairy tales to just about every middle school student in the district, and they laughed and screamed and only heckled him a little bit. The first time Adam ever got a book on the bestseller list, it was because of the kids, and parents, and teachers, and librarians, and booksellers of Laredo.
A special shout-out is due to the young writers of the Writer’s Block of Laredo, a group of students Adam and David worked with, who gave them a number of ideas for this book.
Adam would also like to thank David Bowles—a resident of the Río Grande Valley, a scholar of Mesoamerican mythology and border lore, a brilliant and award-winning writer, and a truly good dude.
David would also like to thank his real-life community—Mexicans and Mexican Americans on both sides of the river—and his virtual family, Latinx writers of kid lit throughout the hemisphere. Juntos podemos con todo.
PHOTO CREDIT: UTRGV
David Bowles is a Mexican American author from the very tip of Texas, a sleepy little border town called Donna. His childhood was filled with the magical tales of his grandmother, Marie Garza, who encouraged David to read. Because of his family’s roots in Mexico, he has traveled all over that country, visiting the ruins of ancient cities, studying native folklore, indigenous languages, and tales of strange creatures like the chupacabras. He is also a college professor whose goal is to be as eccentric as Mito Fauna in a few years. Among his books are the Pura Belpré Honor–winning The Smoking Mirror and They Call Me Güero.
Writing about the border brings me a lot of joy, but also some worry. This is my community, full of my people—relatives and friends on both sides of the river. Our lives overflow with two cultures, two languages, two national identities. Trust me. You’d love it here.
But it’s easy for people to misunderstand what they’re not familiar with, so this book had to be not just about an amazing adventure in South Texas, but also about how easy it is for outsiders to get the wrong impression of my community. Heck, even those of us living down here don’t always agree about how this side of the border and that one fit together.
We couldn’t just pretend that some people aren’t nervous about the border. We also couldn’t ignore the fact that many border folks don’t like the choices the government is making.
So Adam and I decided to include that disagreement in the book. We know people who feel both ways about the barrier that’s been going up along the border in bits and pieces for years now. It was important to get a good look at those two sides without assuming that either group wants to hurt anyone.
As a Mexican American, I also wanted to make sure that the bilingual a
nd bicultural nature of my people came through loud and clear. I am proud of my heritage, my roots along either bank of the Río Grande. And that also meant taking the chupacabras—pretty recent cryptids in the long history of creepy creatures in South Texas—and finding where they fit into the larger indigenous mythology of our ancestors.
I can only hope that the low whistling I hear drifting over the water as I write these words is a sign of their approval.
— D.B.
PHOTO CREDIT: Lauren Mancia
Adam Gidwitz taught big kids and not-so-big kids in Brooklyn for eight years. Now he spends most of his time chronicling the adventures of the Unicorn Rescue Society. He is also the author of the Newbery Honor–winning The Inquisitor’s Tale, as well as the bestselling A Tale Dark and Grimm and its companions. He is also the creator of the podcast Grimmest.
PHOTO CREDIT: Amy Cao
Jesse Casey and Chris Lenox Smith are filmmakers. They founded Mixtape Club, an award-winning production company in New York City, where they make videos and animations for all sorts of people.
Adam and Jesse met when they were eleven years old. They have done many things together, like building a car powered only by a mousetrap and inventing two board games. Jesse and Chris met when they were eighteen years old. They have done many things together, too, like making music videos for rock bands and an animation for the largest digital billboard ever. But Adam and Jesse and Chris wanted to do something together. First, they made trailers for Adam’s books. Then, they made a short film together. And now, they are sharing with the world the courage, curiosity, kindness, and courage of the members of the Unicorn Rescue Society!