You learn a lot about people at an amusement park. Working with them in class is different than playing, and Toby was a lot of fun. I started feeling bad about thinking his dad had stolen Mrs. Watson’s jewelry. The facts were not adding up. Plus, if he stole stuff at Hayley’s house, how did he get in without tripping the alarm?
“Bryce! Over here!” someone called.
It was Ashley, waving frantically. I hurried over, looking at my watch.
“Hayley’s gone,” she said. “Disappeared.”
“I just saw her run that way,” I said.
“What? But it’s time—”
“She’ll meet us there,” I said. “Come on.”
Chapter 19
I’ve never seen Mr. Scarberry so upset. I told him I would keep looking for Hayley, but he gritted his teeth and ordered me to sit down. He made the whole group stay put—“the consequences,” he said, “for breaking the rules.”
“This stinks!” somebody said.
One of Bryce’s percussion mates scowled at me. “Why’d you have to mess it up for the rest of us?”
I racked my brain, trying to think where Hayley might be. There couldn’t have been a mix-up about the meeting place. But what about Bryce seeing the girl with the stuffed giraffe? What had she said to Hayley to upset her? Could someone have kidnapped her? My knees trembled.
Duncan walked past Bryce and didn’t say anything, which was unusual.
The smell of corn dogs, popcorn, cotton candy, and funnel cakes wafted over us. It should have been such a happy day, but people were glaring at me.
“Look,” Toby said.
A girl walked by carrying a huge giraffe.
Bryce said, “That’s her!” And we both bolted for her.
Mr. Scarberry yelled at us, but I wasn’t about to stop.
The girl turned and stared like we were space aliens. She was about our age, with freckles and red hair. An oversized hockey jersey reached her knees. She took a step back, clutching her giraffe.
“You talked to my friend Hayley,” I said. “What did you say to her?”
She frowned. “Are you Ashley? You don’t look hurt.”
“What do you mean, hurt?”
“These two girls said they’d give me this giraffe if I’d do them a favor. They pointed to this girl Hayley on the Brain Buster and said a friend of hers, Ashley, was hurt really bad. They said they had to go or they’d get in trouble and would I give Hayley the message. She was supposed to meet the ambulance in the parking lot.”
Mr. Scarberry ran over, but before he could scold us, I explained.
“Let’s hope she’s still there,” he said. He turned to Giraffe Girl. “Do you see the two girls who gave you the giraffe?”
She scanned the crowd and shook her head. Frankly, I didn’t see them either.
Mr. Scarberry found a security guy to radio someone and have them look for Hayley. The parking lot was on the other side of the park.
Several minutes went by. The walkie-talkie clicked. “No response here. Sorry.”
Chapter 20
Soon it seemed everyone was whining about being stuck here. Some waved their soggy swimsuits.
“Come on! Let us go!”
Mr. Scarberry stood on a table and announced that Hayley was missing. “No one’s going anywhere until we find her.”
Some flute players gathered around Ashley, but Liz and Denise didn’t join them. I found them at the back of the meeting area and was about to point them out to Giraffe Girl when an alarm sounded and the loudspeaker system came to life, paging Hayley Henderson throughout the whole complex.
Rumors spread like dust bunnies under my bed. Someone heard Hayley had been led away by a stranger. Another said a police helicopter chase was under way. A third said she had drowned in one of the water rides.
Ashley grew pale. I’d never seen her this worried.
Then another call came over a nearby security guard’s radio. “We’ve found something.”
Chapter 21
My heart nearly burst through my rib cage. What in the world did “something” mean, and why didn’t they say they’d found “her”?
Bryce put his arm around me as Mr. Scarberry and the chief of security ran off. The wait was killing me, and all I could do was pray.
Finally I saw Mr. Scarberry’s grim face through the crowd and beside him, Hayley. Her eyes were red and her lips trembled.
Everybody just stared.
I ran and hugged her. “Where’d you go?”
“When that girl told me you were hurt, I forgot the rules. The ambulance didn’t come, and I tried to get back in, but I was stuck outside the big fence. When they called my name over the loudspeaker I just about lost it. I knew Mr. Scarberry would be furious.”
I looked at Liz and Denise. Since Giraffe Girl had left, they had come out of hiding. “They’re so mean,” I said.
Everybody whooped when Mr. Scarberry announced that we would stick with our schedule and stay until 9 p.m.
Duncan held out a stuffed unicorn with pink rings around its horn and wearing purple shoes. “Hayley, would you like this?”
“I’d love it,” she said.
Duncan smiled and walked off.
I took a deep breath and let it out. I was actually jealous of Hayley, in spite of what she’d been through. It would have almost been worth it to get a gift—or even the time of day—from Duncan.
Skeeter Messler brought me a green ring with a spider on top. “I won it for you,” he said.
I wondered how much money he’d dropped down the skee-ball slot for that worthless piece of plastic. “Thanks.”
Mr. Scarberry turned to Hayley and me. “You two stick with me the rest of the evening.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to just wait on the bus,” I said.
“Me too,” Hayley said.
Chapter 22
Toby and I went down the Toilet again and were still drenched at the end of the night. There was no way a kid this much fun could have a thief for a father.
Sam picked us up and just shook his head when he heard the story. He handed me a police report from the local paper. I read:
A Red Rock woman returned from a short vacation to find several valuable items missing from her jewelry box. There were no signs of forced entry, and the woman said no one else has a key to her house.
“Same MO as with Mrs. Watson,” Sam said.
“MO?”
“Modus operandi. Latin for ‘mode of operation.’ It means how they do it.”
“Does this mean we can’t go on a vacation this summer?” Ashley said.
“No, it means you two have to figure out who’s doing this before we go.”
Chapter 23
I was so tired I couldn’t hold my eyes open. But as soon as I got in bed I started thinking about Liz and Denise, and my eyes popped like gourmet Orville Redenbacher’s. I lit my candle and tried to write in my diary, but all I could write was I hate them! over and over.
I looked for a verse that would help, but I have to admit I was hoping for something like, “If people mistreat you, put poison ivy in their backpacks” or “If someone causes you heartache and trouble, make them pay.”
What I did find was a place in Matthew where Jesus says:
“You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven.”
So was I supposed to hug Liz and Denise and tell them I loved them? They’d probably just step aside and let me fall and break my nose.
Jesus said, “If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? . . . If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?”
God, you can’t expect me to love Liz and Denise, can you? It’s too hard.
I waited for some kind of answer—you know, thunder or lightning or even a car honking. But nothing came.
“If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?”
I prayed, They don’t even think they’re doing anything wrong. How can I forgive people like that?
No thunder. No lightning.
On my nightstand was a picture of my father, who’d been killed years ago in a plane crash caused by terrorists. Did I have to do good to terrorists too?
I closed my diary and my Bible and blew out my candle. “I can’t forgive those two,” I whispered. “I don’t know how. And I don’t want to know how. They don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
Do you?
It wasn’t an actual voice. It was just a question in my head.
I was hoping it was the funnel cake I had before getting on the bus (I’ve heard food can make you dream weird things), but maybe it was my conscience.
No, I don’t deserve to be forgiven, I prayed, but at least I asked. If Liz and Denise never ask, it’s not the same thing. Is it?
Nothing.
No thunder.
No lightning.
Just sleep.
Chapter 24
Sam took us to the alpaca farm the next day. Ashley seemed really exhausted, and I figured it was because of her medicine. She has to take pills every day to keep her from having seizures, and they make her tired.
The alpaca owner, Mr. Morris, is from Arkansas and has a long, drawn-out way of talking. He met us at the front gate and punched the code, then led us to the barn. It had a red roof and lots of fence wire running around two big pens.
First we met Buck, a huge white dog that sniffed at our legs. I guess he smelled our dogs, Pippin and Frodo.
“Can we pet him?” Ashley said.
“Sure,” Mr. Morris said. “He’s a little cautious about strangers, but he’ll warm up to you.”
“What kind of dog is he?”
“A Great Pyrenees,” Mr. Morris said. “They’re especially good with alpacas.”
“Do they herd them?” I said. “You know, like those dogs that herd sheep.”
“No, they’re more protectors. They’ll fight a bear or a coyote or even a mountain lion that’s after one of the babies. Buck here has a couple of scrapes from some domestic dogs that tried to get in the pen.” He pulled Buck’s hair back and showed us wounds on his legs. “Those dogs will think twice ’fore they come around here again.”
Chapter 25
I would have agreed to work at Mr. Morris’s farm if only for the chance to meet Buck. He’s a beautiful dog, and after sniffing us, he was friendly and let me pet him.
Holding the baby alpaca almost took my mind off Liz and Denise. It was so cute and the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. No wonder people love sweaters and hats made from their fur.
The baby is called a cria (you say it CREE-uh), and female alpacas usually have one per year. The pregnancy lasts 11½ months, and then the female gets pregnant again right away.
“How long do they live?” Bryce said.
“As long as 20 years,” Mr. Morris said.
He said alpacas come in about 20 natural shades, from pure black to white and everything in between. Mr. Morris’s herd of about 40 looked like a rainbow.
The baby’s name was Milk Dud—because he was born yellow and brown, like the Milk Duds box. All the time I was holding him, his mother followed me around with that long neck, eyeing me with her big eyes.
It didn’t surprise me when Mr. Morris told us alpacas are from the camel family, because they look a little like them. But they’re closer to llamas.
When we walked into the barn, I noticed a funny sound, like humming.
Mr. Morris said alpacas do that when they’re unsure of something. “They communicate with sounds and body language. It’s really amazing.”
They all came over and gathered around, like they were inspecting us. I’ve been around cows before, and they pretty much just want to eat and poop and ignore you. But these animals seemed really smart, curious about us.
Mr. Morris told us an ounce of alpaca fur is worth more than my weekly allowance, and they produce 6 to 10 pounds of fleece each year.
“We’re shearing them just before we leave, so they’ll look a little different. It’s their summer buzz cut.”
A big one stood off by itself out in the field.
Mr. Morris said, “That’s Samson, one of our males. We keep them separated from the females until it’s time for them to breed.” He pointed to the corner of the barn. “Back there in the shadows is Whitney. She’ll have her baby in a couple of weeks, probably just after we get back from vacation.”
Whitney had a rich brown coat and a white face. A tuft of lighter brown fur covered her eyes and made it look like she was wearing a stylish hat.
Mr. Morris told us he used to work for a computer company in Denver that wanted to move him to California. “So I quit and bought this farm. Then I had to figure out what to do with it. Our kids are still small, and we homeschool them, so we thought about cattle or sheep, but they’re too messy. Then we heard about alpacas.”
He lifted one of the animal’s legs and showed us its foot. It looked a little like the pad on a dog’s foot. “Cows have hooves that tromp down the grass, so we’d have to have hundreds of acres to raise them. But we can raise a lot of alpacas on a few acres.”
“And alpacas aren’t messy?” Bryce said.
Mr. Morris shook his head. “They’re like cats. They just go in one place.”
“Who lives over there?” I said, pointing to a huge house near the mountain.
“The Rugers. They got a daughter about your age.”
Chapter 26
Ashley fell silent, and I knew why. Ruger was Denise’s last name.
Mr. Morris showed us what to do. The alpacas ate in the field during the day but needed a supplement, which looked like small dog food pellets, added to their troughs in the afternoon.
I was glad we wouldn’t be taking care of animals that would be on someone’s dinner table the next day. The worst that would happen to these was a painless haircut.
“As for Whitney, just keep her calm. She’ll want to stay in the barn. If she gets spooked or acts stressed, that can affect the pregnancy, so you’ll want to call the vet.” Ashley was taking notes, and Mr. Morris handed her a card with the vet’s phone number on it. She copied the number down and stuck the card in her pocket.
We were to come each morning and evening to feed and check on the animals. “Buck will look after them while you’re not here, but you’ll need to keep his water and food dish full too.” He showed us where the dog food was kept.
“Thanks for calling,” someone said inside.
I jumped. It certainly didn’t sound like anyone’s wife.
“That’s Lewis, our parrot. My wife will tell you what to do with him. I’d like to duct tape his beak, but that’s me. Come back tomorrow morning, and we’ll run you through an average day.”
“We’ll come over on our ATVs before church. That won’t scare them, will it?”
Mr. Morris chuckled. “They might look up as you drive in, but that’s about it. Strange dogs or cats moving around their pens will upset them.” He gave Ashley the number to punch at the front gate. “Hey, you could spend a few nights here while we’re gone. We’ve got satellite TV and pizza in the freezer.”
I thought I saw Ashley glance at Denise’s house. “We’ll see,” she said.
Chapter 27
Mom was still nervous about the mountain lions, bears, and coyotes, but Sam convinced her that Buck would take care of us as well as the alpacas.
The cool air felt good on my face as we rode through the field the next morning, past the red rocks that rose behind our house, and around a couple of small ponds. Su
mmer vacation, which had seemed so far away, was almost here. Just a few more days of school.
The farm looked peaceful in the morning light, with dew glistening on the grass. I could see why Mr. Morris would move from the city to a place like this.
Up on the ridge the sun glared orange off the front windows of Denise’s house and made it look like a huge jack-o’-lantern. I had to wonder if Mr. Morris had asked her to watch the alpacas. She probably laughed in his face.
I punched the access number on the keypad, and the gate opened. Buck barked and met us halfway up the driveway. It wasn’t until we took off our helmets and got off our ATVs that he smelled our clothes and calmed down.
Mr. Morris met us at the barn with his wife and three boys.
“We’re going to an island!” the youngest said.
His mother drew him in. “Tell Ashley what you’re going to do there.”
“Fish and cook out and hi-bear-nate,” he said.
“Hibernate,” another boy snarled.
“Whatever.”
“What island?” Bryce said.
“It’s off the coast of Washington state,” Mrs. Morris said. “No phones, no electricity, just the cabin, the coast, and a week of relaxing.”
“Sounds like heaven,” I said.
Mrs. Morris nudged her husband, as if reminding him of something. “Uh, yeah, listen, I know you’re going to do fine. I do need to tell you—not to worry you or anything—that these animals are purebred, so they’re pretty expensive.”
“How expensive?” Bryce said.
“Well, Whitney in there is probably worth about $25,000 because she’s pregnant.”
My jaw fell. “That’s as much as a new car. A nice new car.”
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