Jackal

by Jeff Stone

  “Hi!” I shouted. “I’m home!”

  “We’re in the kitchen, baby!”

  I smiled, closing the back door behind me. I dropped my key into the pocket of my cargo shorts, dragged my suitcase into the mud room, and headed for the main hallway. The house smelled awesome.

  “Perfect timing!” my dad said as I left the hallway and entered the kitchen. “So glad you’re home.” He hugged me, squashing my face against his fancy silk tie. He must have been going to court. He was an environmental attorney, and usually just wore jeans and a t-shirt to the office.

  My mom stepped away from the stove and wrapped me in a massive bear hug, even though she was no bigger than an average high school girl. She wore a fancy apron over even fancier business clothes. The apron smelled like fresh chilies and fried corn tortillas. My mouth began to water.

  “It is so nice to have you home,” my mom said as she released me and went back to cooking. “How was your flight?”

  “Great,” I said. “I slept through most of it.”

  “Attaboy,” my dad said. “It will help with the jet lag. Any new developments since we last spoke?”

  I thought about the article I’d read on the plane concerning Lin Tan, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. “Nope,” I said.

  “That’s good,” my mom said. “Have you given China any more thought?”

  “Yeah, I’ve decided that I don’t want to go.”

  My parents glanced at one another, and my dad plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Grab a seat,” my dad said.

  I sat down next to him.

  “Have you contacted Mr. Ling and Mr. Chang yet to give them the news?”

  “No,” I said. “I have until the end of today to decide.”

  “Excellent. Your mother and I have been talking. While we’ve missed you very much, we think it makes sense for you to go to China for a week.”

  I groaned. “Mom said that last night.”

  “Well, I’m even more sure of it now,” my mom said, cracking some eggs. “It would be a wonderful cultural experience for you. Beyond that, your father and I are both going to be buried with work for the next several weeks. I hate to admit it, but we’re not going to see much of each other anyway.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s true,” my dad said. “Take today, for example. Your mother and I both have to eat and run this morning. I won’t be home until eight, and she has a late dinner meeting with prospective clients. She won’t see you until at least ten tonight.”

  I frowned. “I had enough cultural experiences in San Francisco’s Chinatown.”

  My dad sighed. “What are you going to do for the rest of your summer vacation if you stay home?”

  “Hang out with my friends.”

  “Every single day?” my mom asked. “That seems unlikely. You do realize that you’d see them every day in China, though.”

  “It’s not even the same thing. Here it would be us just hanging out and stuff. Over there, we’d be training and racing. That’s work.”

  My mom came over to the table. She served the food and sat down with us. Everything looked phenomenal. Breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day, and huevos rancheros was easily my favorite dish. My mom had learned how to cook it from our next-door neighbor back in California, a nice woman from Mexico who owned an awesome taco truck. The dish consisted of chili sauce on top of fried eggs, which were on top of a freshly fried corn tortilla. As side dishes, my mom had made refried beans and spicy Mexican rice. Delicious!

  We dug into our food, and my dad said, “Your mother told me last night that you saw Raffi at that BMX track outside of San Francisco.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled between bites. “He moved there with his folks two years ago. He gets free gear from a bunch of BMX companies now. I’m sort of jealous.”

  “Are you interested in racing again?”

  “Not really, but I am thinking about buying a BMX bike.”

  “Are there any BMX tracks around here?” my mom asked.

  “I did some surfing on my tablet at the airport. There is a track at a place called Indy Cycloplex. It’s the home of Marian University’s BMX team.”

  “Colleges offer scholarships for BMX?”

  “Some do.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” my dad said. “BMX has been an Olympic sport for a while now. Are there any BMX shops in town?”

  “There’s a bike shop in Broad Ripple called Bicycle Exchange that looks pretty sweet. One of the owners still races BMX; the other builds custom bike frames like Hú Dié.”

  “We’ll have to check it out in a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” I said. “I was hoping we could go there in the next few days. I want to get a BMX bike so that I can do street tricks around the neighborhood like I used to do in California. It would keep me occupied when my friends can’t hang out.”

  My dad shook his head as he wolfed down the last of his breakfast. “Sorry, champ, I just don’t have the time. A big trial has just begun. It’s going to be a long one.”

  I turned to my mother.

  She frowned. I noticed that she’d already finished her breakfast, too. “Same story here, I’m afraid,” she said. “Didn’t Mr. Ling say something about you possibly riding BMX in China?”

  “Not the same thing,” I said. “Not even close.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I guess I don’t know, but I’d have to stay there longer than one week to do BMX. The one-week trip is only to race road bikes.”

  “Well, perhaps you should consider staying longer,” my dad said. “It’s highly probable that you’ll never get another chance like this again.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

  My dad stood. “Well, I’ve learned that if everyone tells me the same thing, perhaps I should listen. Give it some more thought, Jake. We can discuss it further tonight, if you’d like. Right now, I’ve got to run.”

  My mom stood, too. “I’ve got to leave as well. Your father and I will support whatever decision you make. We just don’t want you to regret not pursuing this opportunity.”

  “Thanks,” I said, shoveling a forkful of refried beans into my mouth. I was only half done with my breakfast.

  “Pizza tonight?” my dad asked as he headed for the main hallway.

  “Sure,” I muttered. “Text me when you leave the office. I’ll order and you can pick it up.”

  “Sounds good,” my dad said as he disappeared around the corner. “See you!”

  “See you,” I replied.

  My mom grabbed my dad’s dirty dish along with hers.

  “I’ll get those, Mom,” I said. “Don’t worry about them.”

  My mom put the plates back onto the table. “You are a dear,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. “Maybe tonight you can tell me more about your trip.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have a nice day, baby.”

  “You too.”

  I finished breakfast and did the dishes, then plopped down onto the couch in the living room. I thought about trying to get some more sleep, but I was way too restless. I flipped though a couple hundred television channels but didn’t see anything interesting.

  I checked the time.

  Ten a.m.

  I wondered if Ryan was awake. He’d slept through the entire flight, so maybe he was. I picked up my cell phone and called him.

  It went right to voicemail.

  I couldn’t remember whether he’d lost his cell phone during our adventures in California, so I called his home number. His mom answered on the first ring.

  “Hello, Jake?”

  “Yeah, hi, Mrs. Vanderhausen,” I said. “It’s me.”

  “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

  “No, not at all. I was just wondering if Ryan was awake.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “He ate a huge bacon-and-egg breakfast and went right back to sleep. He’ll probably be out for a few more hours.”


  “That’s okay. Can you have him give me a call when he wakes up?”

  “Sure, except I can tell you now that he won’t have time to hang out with you today, if that’s what you’re hoping for. I don’t mean to sound greedy, but I want some alone time with him.”

  “I understand,” I said. “He can just call me tomorrow or whenever.”

  “Tomorrow or whenever?” she repeated. “What about China? Have you decided that you don’t want to go? Back at the airport, you said that you were considering it.”

  “I did consider it. On the plane, I more or less decided that I’ll take a pass. I want to just chill out until school starts back up. Life has been pretty hectic lately.”

  “It certainly has, but that’s all behind you now, Jake. You should think about your future. Hok called me half an hour ago. She was up all night, talking with well-connected friends in China. I asked her to look into Mr. Chang, and it turns out that he is the real deal. I know you’re concerned about living in a foreign country for a year or more, and I understand that. However, spending just one week to try to make a splash is another story altogether. This is a major opportunity. I don’t think you should pass it up.”

  I groaned. “You sound just like my parents.”

  “They are very intelligent people.”

  “I know they are, but they don’t have to do all the traveling and training and stuff.”

  “Give it some more thought, please,” Ryan’s mom said. “You’ll have your entire life to ride for fun. The window of opportunity for racing is very narrow. You need to jump through it while you can. You have a gift, Jake. Use it.”

  “I hear you loud and clear, Mrs. Vanderhausen. Thank you for the advice. I mean it. I know you’ve spent a lot of time in the bike racing world. If I decide to go, you’ll be the first to know besides my parents.”

  “I appreciate that. Now go take a nap. Your body thinks it’s seven a.m. instead of ten because of the time change from California. By this evening, you’ll have run out of gas.”

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “All right, then. Goodbye, Jake.”

  “Goodbye.”

  I hung up the phone. So much for hanging out with Ryan.

  I dialed Phoenix’s home number.

  It was busy.

  I shook my head. Phoenix didn’t own a cell phone. Apparently, his landline didn’t have call waiting, either. It shouldn’t have surprised me. He and his grandfather didn’t have much money. Many of the kids at our school were rich, and a lot of them ripped on Phoenix behind his back for being poor. I wouldn’t call him poor, but he did wear his clothes a little longer than most people would, and the mountain bike he rode to school was pretty rough. I actually respected him for it, though. Phoenix rode the worst bike in every mountain bike race he ever entered, and unless he crashed, he always won.

  I dialed his number again.

  Still busy.

  Not cool. I didn’t feel like waiting around anymore.

  Phoenix only lived a mile or so from me. If I jumped on my bike, I could be at his front door in less than five minutes. If I got there and he was too busy or asleep or something, I could just ride back home. Or maybe Hú Dié was awake and could hang out. She was staying with him.

  I turned off the TV, grabbed my mountain bike helmet, and headed for the garage.

  It took me only four minutes to reach the end of Phoenix’s street, but I paused before going any farther. I began to wonder if I was making a mistake. I knew where he lived, of course, but I’d never actually been to his house.

  Phoenix’s grandfather was really weird about having people over. I used to think it was because he was ashamed that their house was old or a lot smaller than most people’s or something. I now understood that it was because he had dragon bone stashed away there. Ever since thieves broke into their house to steal it, though, Phoenix’s grandfather had changed his attitude and begun to let people who knew about dragon bone visit.

  Even so, I hoped it wouldn’t be a big deal that I just showed up out of the blue. I took a deep breath and continued on.

  Phoenix’s driveway was long and winding, a gravel path between dense trees. The trees opened to a wide, grassy area, and in the middle of the grass was a small, tidy house. I couldn’t see through the thick trees beyond the house, but I knew that the White River was back there. Our huge house was cool and all, but I’d switch houses with Phoenix in a second. It was sweet.

  The garage door was closed, and Phoenix’s grandfather’s old pickup truck was parked in front of it. Behind the pickup was another car that I was pretty sure belonged to Phoenix’s uncle Tí.

  I coasted toward the house, thinking about how much fun I’d have doing tricks on a BMX bike in all this soft grass, when I heard someone shouting inside. It was Hú Dié. Phoenix sounded like he was trying to calm her down.

  I eased closer to an open window, feeling like the sneaky jackal Hok had labeled me back in Chinatown.

  “Why can you not do this for me?” Hú Dié asked.

  “Because it’s not mine to give,” Phoenix replied.

  “Oh, so you can take it, but you cannot give it?”

  “I took it from my grandfather, so the only person I can give it to is him.”

  “I will ask him, then.”

  “No! He’ll kill me if he ever finds out that I took it.”

  “That makes no sense. You plan to give it back to him anyway.”

  “In ten years,” Phoenix said. “I’ll have figured out what to say to him by then.”

  “I cannot believe this,” Hú Dié said. “What am I going to do?”

  “What about Hok?”

  “She said that she will consult with PawPaw in China about alternatives, but it will take time. There may not be much time left. That is why I have come to you.”

  “I don’t know,” Phoenix said. “Even if I could help you, how would I do it? It’s not like I can travel that far without my grandfather or Uncle Tí coming along. I’m going to have to think about this.”

  “Argh!” Hú Dié shouted. “Just forget it!”

  I heard a door slam.

  Five seconds later, she came tearing around the back of the house, riding a mountain bike while strapping on her helmet. She was nearly on top of me before she even realized that I was there. She skidded to a stop beside me and I saw that she was sobbing. Huge, sloppy tears poured down her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Hú Dié sniffled and blinked, trying to stem the flood. “It is my mother. She has taken a turn for the worse. I must return to China today. Phoenix’s uncle Tí is taking me to the airport in two hours.”

  “Oh, no!” I said. “I’m so sorry!”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I … do not know. I need to get out of that house for the moment.”

  “Why?”

  “Phoenix. He can be impossible sometimes.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes,” she said, wiping her face. “Ride with me, Jake.”

  I chased after Hú Dié as she rocketed along Phoenix’s long, serpentine driveway at breakneck speed. She rode as if she were being chased by demons.

  Maybe she was. I just hoped she could ride fast enough to escape them, at least for a little while.

  The gravel drive was at least a quarter of a mile long, and she reached the end of it several bike lengths ahead of me. She kidded to a stop, and a cloud of dust rose around her, sticking to her now-sweaty face and bare arms. Tears still streamed from her eyes, leaving muddy trails across her cheeks. She was breathing hard, but the intensity of her effort seemed to already be helping her feel better. I was gasping for breath myself, wondering if I’d be able to survive many more sprints like that.

  “Where … to?” I huffed.

  “Town Run … Trail Park … I suppose,” she replied between huffs and sniffles. “That is the only
place … I know. I have only traveled there by car, though.”

  “Your call,” I said. “It will take … thirty minutes to ride there and back if we hammer, plus another thirty to … do the whole trail loop at top speed.”

  Hú Dié frowned. “I do not have an hour. Maybe I should just … go back to Phoenix’s house.”

  “No,” I said. “I know a place. We’ll be back in half an hour. Forty-five minutes, tops. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  Hú Dié half smiled. “That sounds perfect. I knew I could count on you, Jake. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Follow me.”

  The place I had in mind was an old gravel pit that was surrounded by trees. Nobody ever went back there. It was Phoenix’s secret getaway place, and he showed it to me last year. I felt okay taking Hú Dié there, though. Her being upset was Phoenix’s fault.

  I pedaled hard to the end of Phoenix’s street, then turned and bombed along a wide asphalt pedestrian path. Hú Dié kept pace with me, riding next to me instead of in my slipstream like we’d trained to do on road bikes. Whether she did it because she wanted the company or because she wanted to suffer as much as possible, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I ran out of gears and reached my maximum possible speed, and she was still next to me, keeping pace.

  The girl could ride.

  “Turn … here,” I gasped, and I tapped my brakes. I cut my wheel onto a narrow deer run that was barely visible through thick ivy that hung from a wall of towering trees.

  Hú Dié expertly eased behind me, following along the game trail. Shaped by animals, it meandered wildly on its path to the river. It hadn’t been groomed, and trees hadn’t been cut down to keep the trail moving in a straight line. Rocks, roots, and potholes jarred my bones, while low-hanging branches nearly took my head off.

  In other words, it was awesome.

  Hú Dié and I murdered that trail. By the time we snaked between the small lakes and reached the river, we were both covered head to toe in rotting leaves and rich black humus. We were so out of breath, neither one of us could speak for a full two minutes. I pulled my cell phone out of one of my cargo shorts pockets and checked the time. We’d only been gone twelve minutes, but it felt like twelve hours.