by Wendy Mass
She shook her head. “I need to stretch my legs.” What she really needed to do was resume the training she hadn’t been able to do at camp. She disliked feeling that she wasn’t in peak physical condition. What if she suddenly got a mission that required her to scale a mountain or canoe through raging rapids?
She headed toward the central path, which divided the tents from the RVs, looking around to get the lay of the land. One of the bike paths ran along the outskirts of the campground, but she would have too much company there, even at night.
“Are you lost?” a girl’s voice asked from behind her. “It’s easy to get turned around here. All the tents and RVs start to look the same.”
Daisy had heard the girl’s footsteps approaching, her flip-flops smacking the ground. But anyone in flip-flops wasn’t likely a threat, so Daisy hadn’t turned around. She did now, though.
Even in the dark, she could tell the girl had purple hair. It took Daisy a few seconds to remember that her own hair was back to the brown she’d been born with. Seeing the girl, she suddenly felt the desire to change it again. She’d never dyed her hair just for fun, only for a job. She was pretty sure this girl didn’t have a job that required her hair to be the color of an eggplant.
The girl tilted her head at Daisy, clearly waiting for an answer. She was a few years older, probably AJ’s age. “I’m sorry if I startled you,” the girl finally said. “Are you here with your family? Me and my brother and sister are all sharing one tent, so I needed some space, ya know?”
Daisy stared. This girl was talking to her like she was a regular person on a camping trip, not a girl in a totally tricked-out mobile spy unit waiting for a secret drone to find her and deliver stolen goods so she could solve some long-hidden mystery and save a candy bar and maybe a man’s reputation. But even with all that going on, right at that minute she really was a regular person! She wasn’t pretending to be anyone other than herself. She didn’t remember the last time she’d been out in the world as simply Daisy. It felt really, really good.
Daisy smiled. “I’m here with friends. But I was kind of looking for somewhere to be alone, too.”
“Yeah,” the girl said, “you’d think with all this nature, privacy would be easier to find.”
“Totally,” Daisy agreed.
“I heard they’re doing night yoga down at the activity center,” the girl said. “Wanna check it out?”
Yoga certainly wasn’t the endurance training she was used to, but staying flexible was important, too. Plus, purple-haired girls in campgrounds never asked her to hang out with them. Who knew when it would happen again? “Sure,” she said. “I just have to tell my friends where I’ll be.” Daisy turned a little sideways, pulled out her vid com, and fired off a group message.
“Do you want to invite them?” the girl asked as they headed toward the activity center.
Daisy tried to picture any of the boys doing yoga and giggled. “They’re not really athletic types.”
Philip heard his vid com ding with a message, but he didn’t bother to look at it. He had found the tent where the music was coming from (although the last thing he would call that noise was music). It was near the edge of the campground—one of the last campsites, in fact. Beyond it stood a wall of darkness. He couldn’t imagine why someone would pick such a distant spot. He’d be creeped out. It was hard enough to be out in this field in the dark where he couldn’t see what was crawling around at his feet. He wanted to get back to the RV, but he’d come all this way, and the sound really had to stop. It was an affront to all violins.
Now that he’d found the right place, was he just supposed to knock? How could you knock on a tent? What was the proper campground etiquette? He should have brought a flashlight.
He heard a groan behind him and turned to see a girl a little older than him sitting by a campfire with her hands over her ears. Without uncovering her ears, she said, “Let me guess, you’re here to beg my brother to stop playing his violin.”
“Oh, is that what he’s doing?” Philip asked. “I thought he was dragging his nails down a chalkboard while sitting on a cat.”
The girl’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, that’s a pretty accurate description.” Her accent placed her from somewhere in the Midwest. She raised her voice and called, “Zack! You’re killing me here. Please take a break.”
The sound finally stopped, and the girl tentatively lowered her hands. She rubbed her eyes for some reason and blinked a few times. “Ahh, much better.”
Her brother came out of the tent, his beginner’s violin hanging at his side. “Not my fault. I think this thing’s broken.”
“I could take a look at it,” Philip offered. “I know a little about violins.” Truthfully, he was itching to hold one in his hand again, even one like this, which wasn’t too many steps up from a toy.
The boy hesitated, glancing at his sister. She nodded. “Might as well give it to him. If he turns out to be a violin thief and runs away with it, then you’ll have an excuse not to practice.”
Philip adjusted the pegs until it was as tuned as it was ever going to be. He handed it back to the boy. “You were right. The violin was the problem.”
The boy lifted it up and drew the bow back and forth on the strings. This time both the boy’s sister and Philip covered their ears.
“Okay, so maybe not the whole problem,” Philip corrected.
“That’s it,” the boy said, laying the violin and bow down on a nearby picnic table, where the remains of dinner were piled up. “When I get home, I’m totally switching to the triangle. No one can stink at the triangle.” He scooted back into the tent.
Philip looked at the girl. “I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings.”
“Nah,” she said, waving her hand. “The violin’s, like, the worst.”
Philip bristled at that comment. “No, it’s not.”
The girl stood. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure it’s not the worst for everyone. I mean, um, it’s kind of hard to explain.”
Philip checked his watch. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”
She sighed. “I’ve got this thing called synesthesia. It means when I hear sounds or music or whatever, I see colors and shapes in the air. When my brother’s playing the violin, I see these sharp, jagged lines, and it makes me dizzy.”
“Oh,” Philip said, not expecting that.
“It’s not always bad,” she was quick to add. “The shapes and patterns I see, I mean. Usually it’s really cool. Just, you know, not when he’s playing.”
“So if someone were to play the violin really well, would you see something else?” he asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know anyone who plays it really well.”
Philip went over to the table and reached for the violin. “Mind if I give it a shot?”
“I guess not,” she said uncertainly.
Philip tested the strings one more time, then began to play. First Zack came out of the tent to listen. Then people started wandering over from neighboring campsites. He closed his eyes and tried not to focus on how much worse his original composition sounded on this compared to his own violin. Something about being outside in the night air, with the crackling of the fires and the eyes of strangers on him, sent him into some kind of trance. He kept playing until he’d performed the whole piece, something he’d never done in front of anyone before, not even Reggie. It was good practice for the contest. He knew something was missing from it—just the last few notes now—but his audience wouldn’t.
As he drew his bow across the last string, he opened his eyes.
The crowd had grown large. It now included Logan and Miles as well. Philip lowered the violin to his side, and everyone broke out in applause. He glanced over at the girl. She was wiping away a tear and wasn’t covering her ears, so those were good signs. Her parents had returned, and they had their arms around her. He felt a tug of different emotions—pleasure at being able to move her like that, and jealousy of their seemingly perfect family.
She came towa
rd him. “I saw the most awesome things while you were playing. You should always do that. I mean, like, seriously, never stop doing that.”
He laughed and handed the violin to Zack, who looked at it like he couldn’t believe it was the same instrument he’d been playing. “Maybe you should keep it,” Zack said, trying to push it back at him.
“That’s okay,” Philip said. “I’m all set.”
“My name’s Mia, by the way.” The girl stuck out her hand.
“Philip,” he replied. Her hand felt warm when he shook it.
When the crowd realized he wasn’t going to play anymore, they began to disperse. Her parents joined them. “That was outstanding,” her dad said, shaking Philip’s hand. “You have quite a gift.”
“Thank you, sir,” Philip replied.
“Would you and your parents like to join us for s’mores?” Mia’s mom held up a bag of marshmallows in one hand and a giant chocolate bar in the other. “I bet Zack would love to hear about the years of practice it must have taken to get that good.”
“Triangle, Mom,” Zack said. “I’m switching to the triangle.”
Philip swallowed hard. Before he could think of an explanation as to why his parents weren’t there, Logan and Miles rushed up. “We’re with him,” Miles said, wiping away his own tear but pretending he was pushing hair out of his face. “Our parents are all back home.”
“We have a chaperone,” Logan added.
“Well then, you’re all welcome to join us.”
“Hey, look, Aurora is back!” Mia suddenly shouted.
Miles craned his neck back. “Oh my gosh, where?” he said, spinning in circles. “I don’t see it.”
“Don’t see what?” Philip asked, following Miles’s gaze. More stars filled the sky than he’d ever seen, but truthfully, he didn’t look up all that often at home.
“The aurora borealis!” Miles exclaimed, still spinning. “The northern lights?” At Philip’s blank expression, he said, “When charged particles from the sun pass through Earth’s magnetic field, they hit gases and dust and make these green and red lights that dance in the sky.” He was looking in every direction but still couldn’t find them.
Logan pulled on Miles’s arm and pointed to Mia, who wasn’t looking up at the sky but rather was kneeling down next to the picnic table, holding her hand out to what at first looked like a very large, fat squirrel. At closer inspection, it turned out to be a cat. A very small, very fat cat.
“This is Aurora,” Mia told them by way of introduction. “She doesn’t belong to anyone. The campground owners said she just showed up one day. Isn’t it sad? There’s no one to take care of her.”
“Clearly she hasn’t gone hungry,” Philip noted.
“Let me guess, not a cat person?” Mia asked.
“I am!” Miles said. “I’m totally a cat person.” He fell to his knees and started making kissy noises. “Here, kitty, kitty.” The cat took one look at him and said, Woof! Miles sat straight up. “Did that cat just bark at me?”
Logan laughed. “Totally.”
“Yeah, she does that,” Mia said. “Weird, right?”
Philip sat down on the picnic bench to wait for the others to get bored of the cat. After a few minutes of trying and failing to coax it out from under the table, they finally gave up. “C’mon,” Mia said. “Let’s go make the s’mores before my brother eats all the ingredients.”
“Be right there,” Philip said, still tired from his performance.
Logan and Miles followed her to the fire pit, betting each other whether real s’mores would taste better than Some More S’mores. Philip doubted it. Some More S’mores were really good. Mia returned to hand him a stick with a marshmallow on it. It was a real stick. It had only recently been lying on the ground, and before that, it was part of a tree with birds landing on it and who knows what else. And he was expected to eat something impaled on it? He hardly thought so. When she turned back around, he tossed it over his shoulder into the woods.
A few seconds later something furry landed on his lap. He wouldn’t want to admit it, but he may have squealed a little as he jumped off the bench. The little cat flew a few feet into the air, twisted around, and landed gracefully on its paws. It barked again, then headed right back to him. It began to rub up against his legs, purring loudly as it weaved in and out between them.
“Where’s your marsh—” Mia started to say, then noticed that the cat had come out from under the table, and talk of marshmallows slid away.
“She likes you!” Mia said in a hushed voice. “She chose you. It’s very special when a cat chooses you.”
Daisy picked that moment to show up. “A cat chose Philip?” she asked, clearly amused at the scene. “Why?”
Mia raised her eyebrow at Daisy. “Why wouldn’t she?”
“I’m sure I could come up with ten good reasons off the top of my head.”
The two girls assessed each other warily until Mia’s mom said, “There you are, Beth.” A girl with purple hair arrived a few feet behind Daisy.
Philip looked from the girl back to Daisy. “Daisy! You made a friend!” he said.
She kicked him in the shin. He kicked back.
“You’re sure you’re not here with your family?” Beth asked Daisy, watching this. “This kid totally seems like an annoying little brother.”
“Hey, I resent that!” Zack called out.
“Nope,” Daisy assured her. “Not a brother.”
At the same time their vid coms all beeped. None of them reached for the devices, though. They might look like regular tablets, but not enough to take a chance this close to people.
Daisy tilted her head. Philip could tell AJ must be speaking to her through the transceiver. Excitement flickered in her eyes. “We need to go,” she suddenly said, snapping her fingers. “I’ll go grab Logan and Miles away from the s’mores.”
Mia watched Daisy go. “Your friend sure is bossy.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Mia lifted up the cat, holding her only inches from Philip’s face. “Take me with you,” she said as though the cat were speaking. “Please take me home, Mr. Music Man.”
He laughed, something he immediately realized he didn’t do enough of. “Not a chance.”
She moved the cat’s paw until it was on his chest. “Pretty please?” she asked in that little cat voice again. The cat stuck out its nose and nuzzled Philip’s chin! He wiped at his chin with his hand. Nothing had ever nuzzled his chin before! “If you like it so much, why don’t you take it?” he asked.
“Believe me, I would. But my cat, Mustard, is very territorial. He doesn’t get along with other cats well. Plus she didn’t choose me, she chose you.”
He had to admit the cat was pretty cute, as far as animals went. The firelight wasn’t bright enough to show him what color she was, but he could see a few different patterns on her back and head.
Mia’s mother came over to them, followed by the rest of the family. “Mia, leave the boy alone. Not everyone sees a cat in a field and wants to take it home.” She turned toward Philip. “Are you sure you all can’t stay a bit longer? We’re about to do some stargazing. The meteor shower will reach its peak tomorrow night, but we’ll still get a pretty good show tonight and for a few days after. Even though it’s very rare to see the aurora in the summertime, we might get lucky and spot it.” Then she added, “Not the cat.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Philip said, “but we’ve got to leave early in the morning. We should go.” The excuse sounded lame even to him, but Daisy was mouthing the word picture. Their database must have matched another face.
“We’re here another day,” Zack said. Graham cracker crumbs fell from his lips as he spoke, and he wiped them away. “Mom’s an astronomy teacher, and we’re going to see the dedication of a new telescope.”
“Really?” Miles said, stopping midchew. “That’s so cool. Where is it?”
“A few hundred miles from here,” Mia’s mo
m replied. “First light isn’t until Thursday.”
Zack nudged Miles with his elbow. “First light is when a telescope first gets turned on and the light from the universe starts streaming in.” He got a dreamy, faraway look on his face. “This new scope will be able to spot life on other planets! I entered a contest from the Planetary Society to name an exoplanet that a group of kids found last summer, and they’re announcing the winner at the dedication!”
Miles’s first thought was rats, he wished he’d known about that contest. Naming a candy bar and a puppy was nice and all, but a planet? That was surely the coolest thing a human being could name. His second thought was to begin calculating in his head whether they could build another stop into their trip. Daisy gave him a quick headshake. That girl could read his mind way too well!
“This scope won’t be able to detect life, Zack,” his oldest sister corrected. “It can only try to find planets with Earth-like conditions.”
“Same difference,” Zack said.
“No, it’s not,” Beth insisted.
Mia’s mother smiled. “If my kids have to argue about something, I’m glad it’s astronomy.”
Mia’s father clasped Philip on the shoulder. “Thanks again for the unexpected concert. I’m sure you have a bright future as a violinist ahead of you. Your parents must be very proud.”
Philip felt that queasiness in his stomach again. This time it was Daisy who came to his rescue. She put her arm around him, even though she had to reach up to do it, and said, “Yes, everyone’s very proud of young Philip here. Besides his skill with the violin, he invented the award-winning Harmon—”
He lifted her arm off and quickly said, “That’s enough about me. Thank you all again for welcoming us. Have a great trip.” Before anyone could protest, he headed away from the campsite, wishing again that he had brought a flashlight. Many of the campfires had gone out by then, and it was unbelievably dark. The others caught up with him quickly, and Daisy showed them how to use the light on their vid coms to guide them.
“Why didn’t you want me to tell them about the Harmonicandy?” she asked Philip as they crossed over to the RV side of the campground.