Diego and the Rangers of the Vastlantic

by Armand Baltazar

  “Oh, um, sure.”

  “Gaston has never had friends his own age. You and your Rangers are the first. Have your day, but your evening . . . that belongs to me.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Diego headed down to the beach and got a lift from Redford over to the hangar. Inside, he sent Redford in search of a spare airplane wing. Diego found a supply cart and started making his way through the hangar, collecting the parts he’d need for his project.

  He was passing the Sea Fury when he heard a rustling sound.

  Lucy popped up out of the cockpit. “Oh, hey,” she said, and climbed down.

  “What are you doing here?” Diego asked.

  “Ah, nothing, just had some free time.” She jumped to the floor with a book under her arm.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.” She glanced toward the doors. “I should get back to the castle.”

  “Sure,” Diego said. He pointed at the book she held. The leather binding looked familiar. “Isn’t that the flight manual for the Sea Fury?”

  “Oh, um,” Lucy held it out. “Yeah, but . . .”

  “Lucy, I saw how excited you were about the plane the other day.”

  “Okay . . . here’s the truth. When I turned twelve, one of Georgie’s friends took me up in a Tiger Moth. He was a pilot with the RAF. It was so amazing! And he let me fly for a few minutes, and I still dream of it every day. Ever since then I’ve wanted to be a pilot. Not that it’s really possible for someone like me.”

  “That’s what I dream of being, too,” Diego said. “And why isn’t it possible? There have been a lot of amazing female pilots. Amelia Earhart . . .”

  “Harriet Quimby,” Lucy continued, “Jackie Cochran, and of course your mother, but . . .” Lucy’s face fell. “That’s not the life I’m meant for.”

  “Why not?” Diego said. “Remember what Ajax said? This is a different world.”

  “Not so different,” Lucy said. “My father is a Traditionalist to the core. He has my life mapped out. He even has suitors in mind for when I come of age.”

  “Suitors? You mean like . . . a husband?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “That’s . . . that’s awful,” Diego said. “Your dad has no right to do that. To decide your future for you.”

  “Victorian values aren’t like your Mid-Timers’,” Lucy said. “There are expectations and obligations to the honor of my family. A marriage to the right family, possibly a noble one, would ensure the Emersons’ place in the British kingdom.”

  “You mean your father’s place,” Diego said.

  Lucy sat up straight. “Yes, for him, but for my mother and brothers, too.”

  “Yeah, but there has been open trade and travel to England for the last sixteen years,” Diego said. “From what I’ve read, London is like my city. It has the same time-divided cultures and all the same problems that we do.”

  Lucy shrugged. “That doesn’t make a difference for me.”

  Diego could tell that she didn’t want to discuss her future any further. “Well, I think if you want to fly, you should.”

  “Thanks. What are you up to?”

  “I’m gathering parts for something. Want to help me?”

  “I’m supposed to get back. Gaston and Paige are in the library. There’s only so much of Gaston’s flirting that she can take before she loses it. I have to make sure we’re all in one piece for the mission.” She smiled. “Especially after what you did to him yesterday.”

  Diego smiled back. “Can I at least walk you out?”

  “That would be very proper of you,” she said with a curtsy.

  They walked quietly through the gloom. Diego couldn’t think of what to say next. He was still eyeing the machinery around him for the last few parts he needed.

  Lucy gasped. “Oh, would you look at that.”

  “Oh yeah,” Diego said. “That’s a—”

  “1929 Blower Bentley,” Lucy finished for him.

  “I’m impressed.”

  “As you should be,” Lucy said. She ran her finger over the dusty hood. “I’ve seen this car around London, and I adore it. Georgie’s favorite is the Aston Martin DB5, but it’s the Bentley for me.”

  “That biplane is pretty cool, too,” Diego said. “It’s too bad it’s so wrecked. The Bentley’s been stripped of a lot of parts, too. It would be great if we could fix them up.”

  Lucy breathed deeply. “Do you really think you could do that?”

  “Anything’s possible, although that thing is in pretty rough shape.”

  “Pity that,” Lucy said. “Here I thought you were going to charge into the challenge like an Emerson.” She stepped toward the door. “Off to rescue Paige.”

  Diego saluted her. She smiled and saluted back.

  Diego made his way to the machine shop, his mind buzzing with ideas, and found that Redford was hard at work. Redford had separated the aluminum sheeting from an old airplane wing they’d found and laid the pieces next to the milling machines and saws.

  “Nice job, buddy,” Diego said. “We’re going to use that to make a present for my friends.”

  Redford blew a puff of steam.

  Diego cocked his head. “What do you mean, there’s a present for me?”

  Redford nodded to the table near the saw. Diego spied a small device resting there.

  “It looks like an old camera,” Diego said, picking it up. “It even has film . . . wow. But how am I going to make the pictures?”

  Redford made a noise like a croak.

  “Really? Well, I guess that makes sense. It’s like Volcambria is the most amazing scrap yard ever.”

  Redford puffed again.

  “Okay, we’ll try it later, but let’s get started on this wing.”

  Diego worked tirelessly. After a while his shoulders and fingers ached. When he looked up to take a break, he noticed the light had changed. Outside it was night. Just a little longer, he thought.

  The next time he looked up, the project was finished, and a faint purple light filtered through the hangar doors.

  Diego staggered toward it, his body tingling with exhaustion. He stepped out into the cool, predawn world. He rubbed his head. “Redford,” he called over his shoulder. “We worked all night.”

  Redford puffed, Obviously.

  “It wasn’t obvious to me! I thought it was, like, midnight or something. I’m starving.”

  Diego made his way back to the castle through the deep jungle shadows. Purple land crabs skittered out of his way and into their sand burrows. The air smelled sweet, damp, and the bay was nearly as smooth as glass. Distant clouds on the horizon had begun to glow a deep pink. Diego felt like he was the last person in the world.

  His footsteps echoed in the silent castle. He reached the galley and found a plate of food still out on the table. A pair of mice scampered from it. His dinner.

  He took the plate and pushed through the kitchen door, only to find the captain standing over the central table. He glanced up. “Well, you are in one piece. . . . Good.”

  Diego yawned.

  “Is your surprise ready?”

  Diego rubbed his head. “Yeah, though I barely remember the last few hours. What are you doing?”

  “A surprise of my own.” Boleslavich wore oven mitts. With a spatula, he slid small, circular cakes from a skillet onto plates. They smelled sweet and tangy. “Syrniki,” he said, “though the cheese we received from New Chicago cannot match that of my homeland. Here, eat.”

  He pushed a plate toward Diego, then added a slice of bread and a boiled egg.

  “Delicious,” Diego said through a mouthful of the warm cake.

  “I like to make them on the morning before a departure.”

  Diego felt a twinge of nervousness. Working all night had kept his mind off what they were about to do. He wondered if he would even have slept had he come back.

  He ate fast, his syrniki finished in moments. “That was great,” he said.

  The capta
in was still busy at the stove. “The others should be up soon.”

  Diego slugged a cup of coffee. He hated the bitter taste but was certain he’d need the energy. “Can you tell them to meet me in the hangar after breakfast?”

  The captain nodded, his hands busy preparing the food.

  “Thanks.”

  Diego headed back to the hangar and checked over his work. All seemed ready. He threw a tarp over it and then sat down against the saw table leg. He thought he’d rest for a second. . . .

  “Hey, D, wake up!”

  His eyes fluttered open to see Petey, Paige, Lucy, and Gaston standing over him.

  “This is where you spent the night?” Gaston asked.

  “Mmm . . . I . . .” Diego got to his feet. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was still so tired. “Okay, I have something to show you guys. Redford?”

  Redford had been standing by the tarp since Diego had sat down, waiting patiently. He pulled it back and revealed Diego’s all-night project.

  “Whoa!” Petey exclaimed.

  “Are those what I think they are?” Gaston asked.

  “Yeah,” Diego said. “Tomorrow, destiny owns us. But today, let’s ride.”

  “I’m game,” Paige said.

  Lucy beamed at him.

  “All right, let’s do this.” And they took off.

  “These handle amazing!” Petey shouted over the wind.

  “Genius!” Lucy called.

  “Slamming!” Paige shouted.

  “Now watch this!” Diego called. He switched on his dad’s Walkman from his pocket and affixed it to a chest strap. A cord hung there, and he plugged it into the bright yellow device. When he tapped the screen and pushed a big green button, music began to blare from two small speakers mounted to the tops of his backpack straps.

  “That’s sick!” Petey shouted.

  They spent the day skimming across the island, turning its every feature into a giant skate park. The hours passed in a blur of screaming wind and laughs. They dropped in over waterfalls, snatched guavas from a tree and ate them in flight, played hide-and-seek in the ship graveyard, and for long stretches, thought of nothing other than board, air, and speed.

  Later, breathless, their voices raw, they flew to the highest peak on the caldera rim and admired the view of the lush island and the endless sea. “It looks like Neverland,” Lucy said, her face serene in the sun.

  “This whole world is Neverland,” Petey said.

  “We all know that story, don’t we?” Paige realized. “No matter what time we’re from.”

  “But we will all be growing up tomorrow,” Petey said.

  Diego didn’t want to think about that. “Hey,” he said, pointing down the coast. “We haven’t explored there yet.”

  He led them down the mountainside to a small strip of white sand, the inner rim of a shallow cove, its turquoise water protected by a coral reef.

  The five sat together and watched the sun fall to the sea. As its orange belly dipped beneath the horizon, the silhouettes of dorsal fins sliced through the water beyond the reef.

  Petey lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head. Paige whispered something in Gaston’s ear, and the two shared a laugh. Diego suddenly felt very aware of Lucy sitting next to him. His heart was speeding up, like this was some kind of moment, and yet what could he say?

  Diego jumped when he felt her fingers creep over his. Lucy folded her fingers into his. There was only a narrow space between them. None of their friends could see. Their hands stayed that way as the sun sank and dipped out of sight, leaving a cool, lavender world. Flocks of feathered pink clouds paraded across the sky.

  Finally, Lucy pulled her hand back. She was the first to stand. “We should get back. We’re Lost Boys no longer. Tomorrow we are Rangers.”

  “Let’s take a photo,” Diego said. He pulled out the camera. “I think this thing will work.”

  “All right, everyone in.” Diego held the camera out as everyone leaned in close. “I can’t get us all in the frame. Maybe if we duck . . .”

  “You all stand at the water’s edge,” Gaston said, taking the camera. “I’ll take the photo.”

  “But then you won’t be in it,” Paige said.

  “I’m not one of your Rangers.” He smiled when he said it, but Diego thought he heard a note of disappointment. “Say fromage,” Gaston said.

  “How did we look?” Diego asked as he took back the camera.

  Gaston nodded. “You look like a band of heroes.”

  “Let’s get going!” Petey said, shooting up into the sky. “Last one back has to clear the dining table!”

  They flew through the deepening dark, back to the castle. They were quiet as they walked inside, making occasional jokes, but the laughter died away quickly.

  “You’re back!” the captain called from the library. “Hurry to your rooms and change. I’ll expect you down here at the top of the hour!”

  “What’s he talking about?” Diego wondered as they climbed the stairs.

  “It’s a Vanguard tradition,” Gaston said with a knowing smile.

  Diego and Petey returned to their room to find strange outfits on their beds.

  Diego was slipping on his tuxedo coat when there was a knock at the door and Gaston popped in. “How are we doing?”

  “Can you help me with this?” Diego asked as he fumbled with his tie.

  “You know, I once had a little brother,” Gaston said. “He was shorter than me, like you, and funny. He was a tough kid, but he didn’t have the right hook you have. I teased him all the time.”

  Diego expected Gaston to continue, but he didn’t. “Did you give him a hard time like you do to me?”

  “Of course.” Gaston almost smiled, but not quite. “You two are my brothers now,” he said. “And it will be my honor to fight beside you.”

  “You too,” Diego said as Gaston finished the tie. Then he reached up and messed up Diego’s freshly combed hair.

  “Jerk,” Diego said.

  “My pleasure,” Gaston said.

  Downstairs they found that the captain and Ajax had dressed up as well—the captain in a black Russian naval uniform and polished black knee-high boots, his beard trimmed and hair combed back; Ajax in his Union blue dress uniform with sash. He had replaced his giant mechanical arm with a smaller one that was polished to a mirror finish.

  The two had prepared a huge meal, many courses that spanned the different regions of the new world. Diego smelled the tangy spices of India and the sweet marinades of Cubahna, even the tantalizing aroma of roasted Italian beef from New Chicago.

  Everything was laid out on fine, antique silver plates. The captain had set up a Victrola that played vinyl records of classics like Mozart and Vivaldi.

  “Holy crow!” Petey said as Lucy and Paige walked through the large oak-framed door leading into the dining room.

  “This is my parents’ music,” Lucy said. The men turned to see Paige and Lucy dressed in sassy, elegant dresses from the Roaring Twenties, with delicate jeweled and feathered headbands. Lucy wore a pearl necklace; Paige, a ruby pendant.

  Diego jumped to his feet and moved to slide out Lucy’s chair. Gaston did the same for Paige.

  “Why, thank you,” Lucy said.

  “Sure,” Diego said. He was struck by the long line from her ear to her shoulder, the way her cheeks lifted when she smiled, the glimmer playing between her eyes and her necklace.

  They sat and found that their glasses included a small amount of wine.

  “A toast,” the captain said.

  Everyone raised a glass.

  “May the world stay made. And may we prevail.”

  “Hear, hear!” Gaston called.

  When they were finished eating, the captain put on a new record with faster, peppier music. “We shall dance!” he said.

  Diego stared into his plate. He didn’t dance.

  Ajax and Paige took to the floor, alongside the captain and Lucy.

  “Here
goes nothing,” Petey said as the first song ended. He took Paige’s hand from Ajax, while Gaston and Lucy began to dance.

  “Dang, Petey,” Paige said as the song began, “this isn’t some kind of polka!” She stepped back and rubbed at her foot.

  “My mom said you can polka to anything,” Petey said. “It’s all I know.”

  “Not everything,” Paige said.

  Ajax had put on a new record, and when the next song began, Paige froze.

  “What is it, Paige?” Lucy said.

  “This is one of my daddy’s favorite songs.” She quickly composed herself, walked to the captain, and held out her hand. The captain bowed, and the two took the floor.

  “You dance wonderfully, Ms. Jordan,” the captain said.

  “And you, Captain, are dashing in uniform,” Paige said. “I used to stand on my father’s feet when I was a little girl and dance with him to this song. It’s Nat King Cole—”

  “‘Unforgettable,’” the captain said. “It’s a lovely song.”

  “You know, sir . . . you would’ve made a great father.”

  Diego was impressed that Paige would speak to the captain that frankly.

  “My daughter would’ve been around your age, Ms. Jordan, and it would’ve honored me . . . if she had turned out to be anything like you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Paige said.

  As the dance partners drifted apart and the room became silent, Diego thought he might get out of it. But then the captain chose another song, and Lucy tapped Diego on the shoulder.

  “Mr. Ribera,” she said, curtsying. “Since you are the only gentleman who has yet to ask me to dance . . . it falls on me to ask you. I know how improper that is, but I do hope you’ll forgive me, and do me the honor.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Oh, come on,” Paige called as she spun by with Gaston. “Man up and dance already!”

  Diego blushed red as he got to his feet and took Lucy’s hand. “What do I do?” he asked.

  “The other hand goes here,” she said, pulling it toward her waist. “And then you move your feet like this.” She shuffled her feet, and Diego tried to keep his in rhythm . . . and stepped on her toes.

  “I should stop,” he said, pulling away. She held him back and looked into Diego’s eyes as she leaned down and slipped off her heels.