She giggled. “If they’re so darn smart, then why are they living at Winmart? If I were them I’d pretend to be a teddy bear at Fred Meyer’s. The quality and selection are much better there.”
“Mrs. Eisenschmidt, if this is nothing but a joke to you then I’ll leave.”
She held up her outstretched palms. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You just have to realize your story’s a little hard to swallow.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “No one has to believe me, but I know. I know they’re smart and fast and amazing. I’ve seen them do things, incredible things. And you know what else? They can talk. One of them talked to me. Asked if I was okay after I fell down the stairs.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she got up and examined his skull. “That’s the problem. You’ve bumped your head.”
“No, I didn’t. You see, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It saved me. It got underneath me and softened the fall so I wouldn’t get hurt. It protected me.”
“Listen, Jack,” she sat again in her squeaky chair. “It’s okay to have imaginary friends. When I was a little girl, I had tea parties with my dollies. I would tell them all my secrets and imagine they would tell me theirs.”
He crossed his arms and sighed heavily as she continued.
“But there comes a time for young men and women to put away their dolls and teddy bears and start charting courses in the real world before it’s too late. Trust me, Jack. It can get to the point of no return where you end up never growing out of it. Take your father. His childhood dreams have robbed him of everything. A stable home, a good job, his family, his community, and now even his freedom—all gone. And why? Because he wouldn’t stop daydreaming. He wouldn’t grow up. Jack, you’ve got to understand how vital it is that you stop this fantasy stuff. It’s going to ruin your future.”
TWENTY-TWO
AMELIA HID inside a circular rack crammed with designer jeans and waited while the last few customers filed out of Winmart. She knew she hadn’t much time before the emergency crews came in to inspect the building for structural defects. After a few minutes, she made a run for the toy department. While in front of Electronics, a burly voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Hey, kid! Whatcha doin’? Don’tcha know this place might be unsafe? You need to get outta here!”
She found herself face to ribcage with a tall, brick of a man, a firefighter in full gear including a mask and respirator. He scared her, until she saw the name, Deano, written in magic marker on some duct tape stuck to the helmet. Then she noticed his pastel spirit clothes and giggled. That meant he was one of the gentlest souls ever created.
“Okay, okay,” Deano motioned with his gloved thumb toward the doors. “Move it.”
“But,” she struggled for an alibi. “I’m looking for my mommy.”
“Your mommy’s outside. Let’s go.”
He took her hand and led her to a line of people, the last few to filter out. She knew if something wasn’t done right then, she’d miss her opportunity.
“There’s my mommy!” she tore from the firefighter’s grasp and sprinted to an unsuspecting woman carrying a toddler on her hip. Though there were no outward signs yet, she knew the woman was pregnant by the warm glow of her kaleidoscope spirit clothes.
“Mommy!” she bear-hugged the woman, who, along with the child, was stunned into speechlessness. “I found you!”
Still embracing her make-believe mother, Amelia snuck a peek to make sure the firefighter had been fooled. It worked! He’d turned his attention to a crack in the floor.
“Thanks,” she kissed the woman’s hand, startling her even more. “And congratulations on the pregnancy. The baby’s really healthy.”
“How did you..?” the woman’s jaw dropped. Then Amelia patted the kid’s hair and slipped behind a display of rotisserie chickens. Hunching out of sight, she hurried along a row of newspapers and magazines past the distracted man.
“Who was that, Mommy?” she heard the little girl ask.
“I-I have no idea.”
She reached the section of the store dedicated to toys, games, puzzles, bikes and, of course, stuffed animals, yet had no clue what to do. Somewhere hidden in Winmart’s vast collection of fake elephants, giraffes, bunnies and gorillas was something else, something living and breathing, and observing her every move.
Then she remembered the feather on her beaded necklace. It was a special feather, one given to her by a Bald Eagle directly. Somehow she felt it contained a distinctive power, though she still didn’t understand what it meant fully.
She found where she figured the creatures were hiding, a giant bin stacked almost to the ceiling with plush animals. She knew they were there somewhere, camouflaged inside the pile, and she hoped they were watching her place the feather on the floor. Then she uttered something she’d once learned from an elderly Lakota Sioux healer.
“Mitakuye Oyasin,” she said, and again in English, “We are all related.”
She decided to walk away and made it a few steps when Deano blocked her path.
“What’re you doing here, little girl? Are you shoplifting?” he marched her forward. “Come on. You’re in trouble.”
He escorted her to the end of the aisle and started in the direction of the front office when a white projectile whizzed from above, slamming him in the side of his helmet.
“What was that!”
Amelia examined the stitched object coming to rest on the floor. “It’s a baseball.”
“Where did it come from? Did you throw it?”
“No,” she raised her shoulders. “How could I?”
“I don’t know, maybe—AHHH!”
Another ball flew from nowhere, a strike down the middle of the firefighter’s gut. He doubled over in agony. Then a black and silvery blur whisked from behind, stopping within inches of the man’s nose. It was a Tanakee, the one Amelia had felt the connection with, standing solidly on two feet and exposing her fangs. Her spirit clothes burned bright as blood. Amelia knew the creature meant business.
Mouth gaping, Deano didn’t move a muscle. The two remained locked in a stare.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, buddy?” growled the Tanakee with the serious glare of a predator about to strike.
“Uh…uh,” Deano took a step backward. Then another. He glanced at Amelia, then at the creature, then again at her while edging away, babbling.
Two more creatures appeared, climbing out of the heap of stuffed animals.
“Ayita, what are you thinking?” admonished one of them, a stunning specimen with the same black and silver banding as Ayita, only he had more masculine features, and the emerald skin spots below his eyes were more defined. His aura pulsed with a ruddy hue as well. “This’ll bring nothing but trouble.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that guy,” Ayita wiped her hands. “He won’t say a word. Not if he wants to keep his job.”
“What about this one?” the angry Tanakee pointed at Amelia. “What are we supposed to do about her?”
“Her?” answered Ayita. “You don’t need to worry about her, either. Somehow I get the feeling that’s my job.”
Amelia was speechless, not so much from shock or nerves. Her silence was on purpose, a deliberate act of respect to these sacred beings. Admittedly, she did feel a good amount of awe. Not only did this incredible new species have extraordinary physical and even magical assets, they had one ability she found difficult to get used to—they could talk.
Ayita took care with the eagle feather, picking it up off the floor.
“This was given to you,” she returned it to Amelia. “It’s very unique, you should keep it.”
“Ayita, come on. Let’s go, now.”
“Cheyton, don’t,” spoke the third Tanakee, fluffy and powder white, her mint green spirit clothes sparkled brighter than any of them.
“We’re getting too sloppy, Enola,” argued Cheyton. “Takota started it with that boy, and now this. We’re be
coming too exposed.”
“What does it matter?” asked Enola. “We’ve decided to leave this place, haven’t we? Besides, it never hurts to make friends.”
Cheyton bristled. “Friends? How can we be friends with a human? They can’t be trusted.”
“You can trust me,” Amelia said. “You can trust Jack, too. We just want to help.”
“You want to help us?” Cheyton inched Ayita aside. He pointed his fuzzy finger at Amelia. “Then you take your friend Jack and leave us alone!”
“Cheyton!” Enola shouted. “You don’t mean that!”
“I just, I,” Cheyton fumbled. “I wish this never happened. I wish we could just go back to the way it was, that’s all.”
Enola took Cheyton’s hand.
“I know. None of us want to leave. But be honest. Did you think we’d be able to stay here forever? Change is natural, it’s a part of life, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.”
When Enola finished speaking, Amelia noticed another voice, a mumbling monotone coming from deep within the stack of toy wildlife.
“Potato chips,” it droned. “Glazed doughnuts, pizza, bike races, movies, ice cream, chocolate chips, chocolate chip cookies, pizza…”
“Who is that?” Amelia asked. “And what’s he doing?”
“That,” Ayita rolled her eyes. “Is Pud. He’s listing off all the things he’s gonna miss after we leave. He’s been at it all morning and I WISH HE’D STOP!”
Ayita’s outburst caused Pud to recite even louder.
“Mayonnaise! Dill pickles! Sweet pickles! Pickled anything!”
“All right, guys,” Enola said. “We all know this isn’t going to be pleasant. We’ve had it pretty good in this supermarket. Venturing into the unknown is scary. It’s dangerous out there, we know. But we also know it’s getting way too dangerous in here. It’s just a matter of time before one or all of us are caught. That’s why we decided to leave tonight, right?”
She waited. Her friends stood in calm silence. Even Pud went quiet.
“Right?”
“I’m not leaving without Takota,” Ayita announced, then she gave Amelia a pitiful expression. “Do you think you can help us find him, Amelia?”
It came as a total surprise that Ayita knew her name, though for some reason, Amelia felt it shouldn’t have been. They were intelligent creatures. No telling how long they’d been watching, and what they’d heard.
“You know,” she answered. “I might have a good idea where he is.”
Her phone rang inside her coat. She fumbled to get it out of her pocket, desperate to stop the ringtone before someone heard. It was her mother. She’d gotten news of the trouble with Ben James and insisted on picking Amelia up at school immediately. After some resistance, Amelia relented, agreeing to meet her.
“I gotta go,” she told the Tanakee, putting her phone away. “But I’ll be back soon. We’ll find Takota, don’t worry.”
“Hold on, would you dear?” requested Enola. “Pud, I believe you have something that might belong to Amelia, or at least to someone she knows.”
Silence. Amelia studied the three creatures quizzically.
“Pu-uuud?” Enola sang.
“No!” Pud snarled.
“Pud!” barked Cheyton. “Get out here now and give it back. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“But,” Pud poked from behind a giant, purple dinosaur. “I can fix it better, really I can!”
“Pud!” the other Tanakee shouted in unison, shaming him into giving up the fight. Murmuring, he descended to the floor.
Amelia giggled when she got a good look at him. The wild, unkempt hair on his head didn’t get any tamer anywhere else on his little body, its unruliness matched solely by its striking orangish hue. It was an arresting contrast to his remarkably blue spirit clothes. His ears were a little floppy and his eyes exotic and mismatched, one deep, dark brown, the other pale aquamarine. Beside the grooved spots of bare, vivid green skin on the tips of his cheeks, a trait of all the Tanakee, Pud’s most memorable feature had to be his perpetual smile, which persisted even though he was so obviously upset.
“Here,” he held out his hand, presenting her with the O/A.
“Hey!” Amelia exclaimed. “That’s Ben’s invention! I thought the police had it. Where’d you find it?”
“I grabbed it while nobody was watching,” he said. “Look, it’s hurt.”
Instantly Amelia became dazzled by the machine’s elegance, its sleekness, and how it seemed filled with spectacular jewels, sparkling and spinning in intricate patterns. Despite the instrument’s splendor, she sensed it was damaged seriously. When she’d first seen it in Ben’s hands, she was shocked to discover it had spirit clothes. Not just that, its aura’s intensity had equaled Jack’s—an intriguing thing, certainly. Now, though, the machine’s ethereal glow seemed vastly diminished, and she sensed its pain.
She gasped. “Do you really believe you can help it, Pud?”
He looked at his friends, then again at Amelia, nodding.
“Yes.”
“Then you take it for now. Do everything you can for it, okay? And remember, it’s not a toy.”
“Yessir!” Pud saluted. “Uh, ma’am.”
“It’s Amelia,” she gave him a quick laugh. “Just Amelia.”
“Okay, Just Amelia,” he chuckled.
She said goodbye to all of them and began to sneak out of the store. She could tell the firefighter didn’t want anything to do with her. He spotted her and eyed her from a safe distance as she slipped through the exit.
When she arrived at school, her mom sat in the attendance office waiting for her. Although she asked Amelia all kinds of questions, she never once said anything about what had actually happened at Winmart. After a while, her mom stopped asking altogether, choosing instead to talk about what clothes she wanted, and if she felt like going to a salon or a movie. Amelia got the feeling the subject was being officially swept under the rug, the standard practice around the Klein household for such matters.
Soon, it became clear the whole day was intended to whitewash her brain, and make her forget about furry little creatures and a boy whose dad was a wacky inventor with an interdimensional machine. Amelia went along, for a while. After spending the bulk of the morning at her mother’s home away from home, Willow Factory Outlet Center, she demanded to finish the day at school.
When she returned to Willow Elementary, the first thing, the only thing on her mind was to find Jack.
TWENTY-THREE
YOU’RE LATE, JAMES!” Mr. Jarvis puffed up his barrel chest while sucking in his flabby belly. He whipped a whistle into his mouth and tweeted so loud it rang in Jack’s ears. “That’s ten pushups, now DROP!”
“I, uh, have an excuse,” Jack handed over the note. The PE teacher snatched the paper, read in a huff, then crumpled it.
“School psychologist, huh?” he grumbled. “I always say nothing straightens a kid up better than good, old fashioned exercise, and lots of it. So let’s go, James. It’s field hockey day. Hurry up and dress down—you’d better be out there in five minutes.”
He trotted through a set of doors propped open by a plastic garbage can. The spring sun had decided to make a rare Oregon Coast appearance, bathing the chubby man in gold as he departed to the playing field, leaving Jack alone in the ancient locker room.
He took off his backpack, placed it on the bench, and opened his locker. A foul stench overwhelmed him. He held his breath, yet still it gagged his throat and stung his nasal passages. He backed away, coughing and spitting, dumbfounded by the offensive odor. What the heck? It didn’t take much investigation to solve the puzzle. Piled on the floor of his locker were a dozen or so dirty, sweaty, mildewy PE towels.
“Yuck!” he knew it was a prank. A Mike and Dillon specialty. He could always count on them.
He tried to kick the towels away without success. Finally, with one hand over his nose, he decided on a quick fingertip extraction. A messy opera
tion, though it had to be done. He flicked them aside, not caring where they landed.
With that done, he started to change into his gym clothes, yet the unmistakable sound of coughing made him stop in place. He looked left, then right, then twisted until he was backward. Nothing. The coughing became hacking and sputtering. At last, he recognized where the noise was coming from—his backpack.
He shook his pack free from the pile of dirty towels, not aware he’d buried it under them. From the outside, he saw signs of struggle. Shaking and poking. The bag was alive.
Cough! Cough!
“Fresh air!”
Cough! Cough!
“I need fresh air!”
He unbuckled the straps, allowing Takota to climb to freedom.
“Whoa! What was that stuff, skunk dung?”
“Takota! Is it really you?”
The little fellow grinned. “Hi, Jack.”
Jack melted. “I can’t believe it. You are real. And you really can talk. I knew it wasn’t my imagination when you spoke to me before. But why’d you wait so long to do it again?”
“I had to be sure it was safe,” Takota said. “I have to be careful who I reveal myself to.”
Jack nodded. “I get it. But how’d you get in my backpack?”
“I crawled in at the store when nobody was looking. Wasn’t too difficult with all the commotion.”
“Yeah. My dad’s machine can be pretty dramatic. He was just trying to help. We all were, even your friends. They helped, too.”
“I know,” Takota crossed his arms. “That was a bad move. You shouldn’t have done that. You’ve got to promise me something right now, Jack. You’ve got to swear if you ever think I’ve been captured, you won’t try to save me again.”
“But I can’t.”
“Jack, it’s too dangerous. You can never risk yourself, you understand that?”
“I-I guess.”
“Then promise.”
Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear Page 16