A huge tractor-trailer was barreling down the road. The light turned yellow, then red. The driver must have made up his mind at the last moment: There was a terrible squeal of straining brakes as the truck slowed dramatically.
Then the wheels of the trailer hit something in the road—an icy patch? a pothole, maybe?—and the whole truck lurched. It skidded and slewed around in front of the zoo road, crosswise to the highway traffic, blocking all four lanes.
More squealing sounds as frantic drivers slammed on their brakes to avoid hitting the truck. Kevin felt his whole body tense up, waiting for the inevitable crash. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He watched as car after car screeched to a stop, almost like in a cartoon.
It was all over in just a few seconds.
No collision. Nobody hurt.
And for the moment, no traffic on the highway.
12. In the Year of the Tiger
"Come!" Archie had already slung the bow back over his shoulder. They darted between the stopped cars. Kevin cast a look back at Mr. Lee, who was still stuck in his car on the zoo road. He wouldn't be able to move until the tractor-trailer had been cleared.
"HA!" Archie laughed, pointing.
Kevin looked, and saw what had made Archie laugh. The tractor-trailer was carrying a load of cars—Volkswagen Beetles, to be exact. Eight of them stacked in two layers—
"TURTLES!" Archie shouted in delight. "Once again, they come to my aid!"
Turtles? Kevin looked again. Funny, he'd never thought about it, but VW Bugs did look kind of like turtles.
"Layer upon layer of them, just as before!" Archie said. "And are they turtles in spirit as well as shape?"
"In spirit..." Kevin hesitated.
"By which I mean, are they as fast as the other dragon-carts? Or do they move at a more stately pace, like true turtles?"
Kevin would have laughed except that he knew Archie wasn't being funny on purpose. "Um, well, they can go really slow if you want them to," he said.
Archie's grin had to be one of the widest Kevin had ever seen. "Well and good!" He chuckled, still staring at the truck with its load of Volkswagens.
Then Kevin gasped. Beyond the truck, on the zoo road, Mr. Lee had gotten out of his car again and was crossing the highway on foot, looking right at them.
"Archer! Come on, we have to hurry!"
They ran. Ahead were the pillars marking the university entrance and, beyond them, the bronze statue of the tiger.
As their feet pounded up the drive, Kevin made a promise to himself: If this doesn't work—if the professor catches us—I'll stop running away. I'll talk to him, I'll talk to my parents, I'll tell them everything, I'll make them believe me somehow.... I just can't do this alone anymore.
Archie slowed to a walk a few yards away from the tiger. He reached into his quiver and pulled something out. Hurriedly, but still taking time for a quick bow, he held his hand toward Kevin.
"A token of gratitude," Archie said, "for your assistance."
It was the two halves of the broken arrow—the one Archie had used to get into the tiger enclosure. Kevin took the arrow and bowed back, knowing what it meant to Archie to part with one of his arrows, even a broken one.
"Thank you, Archer," Kevin said.
It didn't seem to be enough just to say thanks. He stammered, "I—I hope one day to be—to be worthy of such a gift."
"No, Friend," Archie said, "I would not have given it to you if you were not already worthy. Your hope must be to remain so."
Kevin nodded solemnly. He put the pieces of the arrow into his jacket pocket. Then he looked over his shoulder. He could see Mr. Lee coming up the road to the campus entrance. Not running—he was probably too old to do much running—but walking really fast.
Archie was examining the statue. It stood on a base that was made of the same metal as the tiger, and the base was mounted on a platform of stones cemented together. He reached up and touched one of the tiger's smooth legs.
Kevin frowned and cocked his head a little. An odd buzzing noise filled the air. No, that's not right. I'm not hearing it—I'm feeling it. It wasn't a noise; it was more like the air was vibrating.
Archie turned to him, his eyes glowing. "You feel it, too?" he whispered. "It is the magic. It is time for me to depart."
He bowed to Kevin again, then jumped up onto the stone platform. "Goodbye, Young Friend!"
Kevin tried to say something, but no words came out of his mouth. Jeez, he's awfully sure this is going to work.
There was Mr. Lee, almost at the pillars....
Archie threw his leg over the back of the tiger. He hunkered down into a riding position, then raised one arm in salute and let out a whooping yell.
Nothing happened.
No puff of smoke, no bolt of lightning, no fairy dust.
For a split second, Kevin felt incredibly stupid, goggling at a guy on top of a tiger statue, expecting—expecting what? Archie to disappear into nothingness?
But that buzzing, humming, vibrating sensation, like the air before an electric storm, only a whole lot stronger—he wasn't imagining it!
"Young Friend." Archie sat up straight again. "The magic is powerful, indeed—but something is missing. One small thing, I feel sure of it!"
Something was missing? Just his and Archie's sanity, that was all.
Mr. Lee was passing between the pillars now.
"Think!" Archie urged. "It was you who brought us this far—you who had the brilliance to propose the metal tiger!"
Kevin's mind had never felt emptier. It seemed like there wasn't a single idea, not one measly thought in his brain. They were so close—he could feel it—and now at the last second they were going to fail, and have to face Mr. Lee.
He lowered his head in despair and stared at the ground. Sure, he'd thought of the statue, but that was the last good idea he'd had. With the toe of one sneaker he scuffed at the dirt around the bottom of the stone platform, then took a deep breath.
Whatever happened, he had to convince everyone that Archie wasn't insane.
"Kevin!" Mr. Lee called out. "Kevin, please listen!"
Kevin raised his head and watched helplessly as the professor gasped and panted the last few steps toward them. He reached out and touched Kevin on the arm.
"Kevin—" he said.
He looked past Kevin toward the statue. Then his mouth fell open in fear and horror.
"No! Don't shoot!" the professor shouted, holding his hands up in the air.
***
Kevin turned, already knowing what he would see. Archie had slid off the tiger's back and was crouching on the other side of the statue, the tip of an arrow pointing directly at Mr. Lee's heart.
"Young Friend," Archie said calmly, "please move one step to your left. I have a clear shot at the moment but would prefer a little more space between you and the target."
Kevin moved before he really even had time to think. He took one step—to his right. He was now standing directly in front of the professor.
"Brainless Frog!" Archie exclaimed. "Do you not know your left from your right?" He chuckled, but it sounded to Kevin like a very grim chuckle.
Kevin put his hands in the air, then spoke over his shoulder. "Mr. Lee, please back up a little."
The professor obeyed instantly, never taking his eyes off the arrow.
Archie rose out of his crouch to stare at Kevin.
If Kevin lived to be a thousand, he would never forget the look on Archie's face. Bafflement, pain, anger, sorrow—all at the same time.
But when Archie spoke, his voice was quiet. "Could I have been so wrong to trust you? You would choose to side with him—you would betray me?"
Kevin shook his head. "No, Archer, I'm not betraying you. But I can't let you hurt him. I told you before, he's not an enemy. He—he might even be able to help you."
Now Kevin really did feel like a traitor. Yeah, right. He's going to get you committed to a loony bin. Some help.
Archie's
eyes looked hard and cold. "I have no wish to harm you, Little Frog, even in the face of your treachery. But I cannot allow anything to stop me from returning to my people. If I cannot remove him without also removing you..."
Kevin swallowed hard. His knees were shaking. He looked at the arrow's tip, razor-sharp, menacing. How could such a small piece of metal look so cruel? He knew perfectly well that Archie could get off two shots—one each for Mr. Lee and himself—before either of them could get anywhere near safety.
The air was still filled with that odd buzzing, which was making Kevin feel dizzy. He started to speak; nothing came out but a few squeaks. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"Archer? You—you said it yourself, that we've been through a lot together. And that I've done stuff to—to try to help you. And maybe not everyone would have done that. Right?" His voice was going all squeaky again. Keep talking, it worked before, maybe it'll work again.
"I mean, we have that bond. The food and laughing thing. And you even gave me one of your arrows. So do you think—I guess I was hoping, well, that I've earned one more chance. You've gotta trust me. One last time. Please, Archer."
For a few moments, nobody moved—Kevin and the professor both staring at Archie, Archie staring at Kevin.
Kevin held his breath. Archie shook his head, then lowered the bow, returned the arrow to its quiver, and slung the bow back over his shoulder.
Kevin's knees almost gave out. Behind him, he could hear an enormous sigh from Mr. Lee.
"I know that you are unarmed," Archie said, looking at Kevin, "and it seems that he"—a glance at Mr. Lee—"has no weapon, either. Which means that for the time being, my life is not in danger."
Archie stepped out from behind the statue. "I do not understand why you are running from this man at one moment and protecting him the next. But there is much about your world that I do not understand. You must do the understanding for me."
Mr. Lee took a few steps forward; he seemed to have recovered quite quickly from his brush with death. "Good," he said briskly. "Glad we're finally all on the same page. Now, why don't we go back to my car and return to the museum and then—well, we'll go from there. How does that sound?"
Awful. It sounds awful.
Kevin didn't think he had ever let anyone down the way he was letting Archie down now. For the second time that day, he thought he might start to cry And that itchy feeling of complete frustration came over him.
Mr. Lee put a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Let's go, Kevin."
Kevin resisted the impulse to shove Mr. Lee's hand away. "Um, Mr. Lee? Could you give me a second? Just one second. Something I need to do—"
"What is it?" Mr. Lee snapped, clearly impatient to get back to the museum so he could start prying the Great Secrets of Old Korea out of Archie. Either that, or save the world from a dangerous arrow-crazed lunatic.
"Nothing. I mean, I just have to stand here for a second," Kevin said.
He needed to calm down and get his strength back. Fast. He couldn't be all squeaky and weak-kneed when Mr. Lee started grilling them. He had to be clearheaded so he could figure out some way to help Archie.
Ignoring the professor's fidgeting, Kevin inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. The itch at the back of his neck, the lump in his throat—he put them in a ball and pushed it down deep inside where it couldn't bother him.
As the stillness came over him, his brain started working—almost on its own, it seemed.
He'd asked Archie to trust him one last time. He had to give it one more try.
See the goal: Archie back in his own time. The tiger's back empty.
See each step along the way.
Each step?But what else is there to see? Put things in order.... What things? Something's missing—some crucial element....
Element. Kevin felt his heart skip a beat.
Archie's five elements. Fire. Earth. Metal. Water. Wood.
We're both Fire-tigers.
In Archie's time right now, it's two cycles later. A Metal-tiger year.
But he's not in his time. He's here, in our time, and like he said, I have to do the understanding for him.
Our time: 1999 in Dorchester, New York...
Kevin opened his eyes wide. He looked right at Archie.
Archie looked back at him. Kevin felt almost as if they were talking—without saying a word, like a tiny fierce spark was jumping back and forth between them.
A slow smile spread across Archie's face.
From what seemed like far away, Mr. Lee was saying, "Could we please get going here?" But Kevin ignored him, and both he and Archie started to move.
Archie took two steps and vaulted back onto the tiger statue. Kevin dropped to his knees, scrabbling to scrape up the dirt he'd scuffed loose earlier with his shoe.
He couldn't keep the joy from his voice. 'Archer! I know what it is! I know what's missing!"
"I know you know, Friend! I can see it in your face!"
"What's going on?" Mr. Lee said. "Sir, come down off that statue, please! It's time to stop this ridiculous business—" He walked over to the statue and reached for Archie's arm.
Frantically, Kevin scooped up as much dirt as he could. The ground was half-frozen mud; it was hard going. He had to break off little clods that crumbled in his hands.
"EARTH!" he yelled. "It's a Metal-tiger year in your world, but in our world it's an Earth-tiger year!"
He straightened up and flung the bits and clods of dirt into the air. The dirt rained down on Archie and the statue.
And suddenly Mr. Lee was holding on to ... nothing.
The professor stared at his empty hand, the one that had been grasping Archie's arm. "What the—?"
Kevin laughed out loud. The buzzing in the air had stopped, and he knew—just knew for sure—that Archie was back in his own world. In first-century B.C Korea.
It was the same feeling as getting a math answer right.
He felt like celebrating, like doing some kind of victory dance, the way football players did after a touchdown. He wanted to hug the statue; he thought its empty back was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He felt as though he loved the whole world, including Mr. Lee, who stood there next to the statue looking utterly foolish.
Kevin couldn't stop smiling. "Mr. Lee, if you want me to, I'll tell you everything. I'm not going to tell another soul, and I don't expect you to believe me, but I swear it's the truth. And if you need proof—"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the two halves of the broken arrow. Then on impulse he held the pieces out toward the professor. "This is for the museum," he said.
Mr. Lee took the arrow, his eyes wide. Kevin felt a momentary pang. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. It would have been cool to keep it myself, and it's probably pretty valuable.
But as the professor examined the arrowhead closely, Kevin suddenly felt he'd done the right thing. If I kept it myself, I'd never be able to tell anyone the truth about it.... In the museum lots of people will see it—maybe there could be a card about Archie in the display and everyone would learn about him.
The professor tried to speak, stopped, tried again, but still couldn't get the words out. Finally, he held the arrow out in front of him in both hands and bowed to Kevin.
"I am honored," he said in a husky voice.
He raised his head and looked at Kevin in wonder. "Let's walk back to my car," he said at last. "I'll give you a ride home."
13. A Belated Gift
After Mr. Lee dropped Kevin off at home, life returned to normal almost entirely. Kevin told his parents that he'd fallen down and hit his eye on his own knee. Which wasn't a lie, but wasn't the whole truth, either. His mother made him put ice on the eye, ignoring his protests that the ice hurt more than the injury itself.
Then there was a brief unpleasant session about the broken window. "It was that bouncy ball, wasn't it?" his mom had demanded and then went on without waiting for an answer. "I've told you a million times not to throw it inside the
house. I just knew something like this would happen sooner or later."
Kevin had looked down and said nothing. He had decided to "choose the path of deceit deliberately," as Archie would say. Not just because his parents would never believe him—although that was part of it. No, it was mostly because Archie's visit had been special, so special that Kevin thought it was supposed to happen just to him and no one else was meant to know about it.
Except for Mr. Lee, of course. And Kevin was pretty sure that the professor would keep the secret, too. If he starts telling people about it, he'll end up in the loony bin himself.
School, homework, hanging out with Jason and his other friends. Over the next few days, the window got fixed, and things were so normal that Kevin found himself wondering if it had really happened—if Archie had been real.
The arrow in the museum. Proof, if he ever needed it.
Plus there were other little things. The black eye, for one.
And whenever he took off his baseball cap, he saw that the button on top was sort of mangled and crooked—as if it had been pierced by something sharp.
On the following Saturday, Kevin was helping his dad tidy up the living room to get ready for his grandparents' visit. As he stacked the magazines and catalogs on the table into a neat pile, he glanced up at his dad. Now's as good a time as any.
"Dad? I was wondering—could I ... I was thinking I might like to take archery lessons."
His dad turned toward him, holding the sofa pillow he'd picked up off the floor. He stared at Kevin. "Are you serious?" he said.
Kevin had been prepared for a reaction like that.
"Yeah. I just ... I'd like to give it a try."
His dad put the pillow on the couch. Turned it over, straightened it, picked it up, put it down again. Kevin watched; his dad's face was expressionless. Not a good sign.
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