Jackal

by Jeff Stone

  I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and saw that it wasn’t quite noon. Perfect. Lunchtime was about the only time you could catch my mother on a workday. I called her cell.

  She picked right up.

  “Jake?” my mother said.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said. “I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you. I just need to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is it still fine with you and Dad if I go to China for one week?”

  “Of course!” she said. “If I recall correctly, I was the one who first encouraged you to do it.”

  “I know,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure. I’m at Phoenix’s house now, and—”

  “And you didn’t call or text me to let me know that you were leaving the house?” she interrupted.

  “Oops,” I said. “Sorry. I forgot. I was just so excited to—”

  “Never mind,” she said. “We can talk about it later at home. We’ll have to discuss a few rules for China, too. Let me know if you go anywhere else today.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Can I call Dad and tell him the news?”

  “No. He’s in court today, remember? No cell phones allowed. You’ll see him tonight, before you see me, though.”

  “Oh, yeah. Good luck with your dinner meeting tonight.”

  “Thank you. I’m looking forward to seeing you when I get home, baby.”

  “Same here. Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye.”

  I turned to Phoenix. “Looks like we’re in.”

  He grinned. “Sweet.”

  I called Ryan’s house next.

  Ryan’s mom answered. “Hello, Jake. Ryan is still asleep.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I was actually calling to talk to you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve decided to go to China.”

  She squealed with delight. “Oh! That is wonderful news! I’ll let Ryan know as soon as he wakes up! Is there anything we need to do?”

  “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know what yet. I still have to call Mr. Chang and his translator and helper, Ling, to let them know.”

  “I’m assuming you’re only planning to go for one week,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good choice. Try it out first, then decide what’s best for you. I’m proud of you for giving it a shot.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Vanderhausen.”

  “You’d better run along and make that call now. I’ll have Ryan give you a ring the moment he rolls out of bed.”

  “Cool. Bye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  I hung up and looked at Phoenix. “Ryan is asleep.”

  “It figures,” Phoenix said.

  “Time to call Ling,” I said.

  I fished around in one of the pockets of my cargo shorts and pulled out Ling’s business card. There was a phone number with a weird pattern of digits printed on the front, but a normal-looking telephone number with area code was handwritten on the back. I flashed the handwritten number at Phoenix.

  “It’s a San Francisco number,” I said. “I remember seeing that area code printed on stuff out there.”

  “You and your crazy memory,” Phoenix said. “Ling probably rented a cell phone in San Francisco. It’s noon here, so that’s nine a.m. in California now. You should call him.”

  I nodded and dialed the digits. Someone answered right away.

  “Hello?”

  It was Ling. I recognized his voice.

  “Hi,” I said. “This is Jake, from Indiana.”

  “Jake!” Ling said. “How are you?”

  “Real good. Is Mr. Chang with you?”

  “He is.”

  “Great,” I said, and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you both know that I would like to come to China for one week, if that is still an option.”

  “Wonderful!” Ling said. “Of course it is still an option. We were just talking about you. I was so hoping you would call today. I’ve already made preliminary arrangements to host you and your friends. I had a hunch you would want to do it for a week. Just a moment. Let me tell Mr. Chang.”

  I heard Ling begin to talk in Chinese, then Mr. Chang’s deep-voiced reply. Mr. Chang sounded pleased. It made me feel good.

  Ling came back on the line. “Mr. Chang wishes to congratulate you on your excellent decision. Have you spoken with your friends yet?”

  “All of them except Ryan, but I just got off the phone with his mother. Everyone’s really excited.”

  “Glad to hear it. I will need to speak with their parents or guardians as soon as possible. I’ll need to speak with your parents, too.”

  “Sure. I’ll give everyone your number and ask their folks to call you as soon as possible. When do you want us to come?”

  “I can have you on a plane tomorrow if your parents sign the visa documentation and other forms in time.”

  “Whoa,” I said.

  “Mr. Chang is not one to dillydally. Our graphic designer has already begun mocking up advertisements with images of you four from the recent race. Your parents will need to sign releases for these things, too.”

  “My parents won’t be able to get back to you until late tonight. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

  “That’s fine. I can still make most of the arrangements now.”

  “I should probably let you know, too, that Hú Dié is flying home to Kaifeng in a couple hours. Her mom has a … condition. I can have her call you as soon as I hang up.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Ling said. “Do you have questions?”

  “Not really,” I said. “I know how training camps work. I’m guessing this is pretty much the same thing, except with people taking our picture a bunch and maybe some interviews.”

  “Exactly,” Ling said. “You won’t be living in a cramped dormitory like most training cyclists, though. You’ll be staying in a beautiful apartment complex that’s centered in a Western-style area of Shanghai. It’s brand-new, and it’s where most American visitors prefer to stay. Many people speak English there. You’ll feel right at home.”

  “Awesome,” I said.

  “Feel free to call me anytime if you or your friends have questions,” Ling said, “and you can pack light for this trip. We’ll provide you with uniforms for riding and tracksuits and shorts for relaxing. We’ll also feed you and provide all of your bicycles and gear. Just bring spending money for gifts and souvenirs. With luck, though, you won’t even need that because you won’t want to leave!”

  “We’ll see,” I said.

  “You and I can talk more tonight when your parents call me,” Ling said.

  “Yep,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

  “Goodbye, Jake.”

  I hung up.

  Phoenix said, “This is really going to happen.”

  “Sure enough, bro,” I replied. “You got a pen and some paper? I need to give you Ling’s digits.”

  “Be right back.” Phoenix ran into the house and came out seconds later with a pencil and stack of sticky notes.

  Hú Dié poked her head out of the back door. She was wearing clean clothes, and her long black hair was wrapped in a towel. I walked over and handed her a sticky note with Ling’s number. “I told Ling that you were flying home in a few hours because of your mom. I didn’t give him any details. He needs you to call him as soon as possible.”

  She nodded.

  I handed Phoenix a sticky note with Ling’s number as well as the pencil and remaining sticky notes.

  “I’ve got to jet,” I said. “Lots of stuff to do before we leave.”

  Hú Dié smiled at me. She knew what I really meant. “I am very glad that you decided to do this, Jake,” she said. “I will see you in China.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “see you in China.”

  It felt like we probably should have hugged or something, but I was covered in trail goo and she was sparkling clean. Plus, it seemed kind of awkward with Phoenix there. Instead, I just nodded to her, and she n
odded back.

  Hú Dié turned and went back into the house, and I headed for my bike.

  Phoenix gave me a wave. “See you, bro.”

  I waved back. “Yeah, see you, bro.”

  I pedaled away, wondering how much longer Phoenix and I would actually be bros. Once he found out about my little trip to Pine Loop in Brown County State Park, he might never speak to me again.

  I frowned and began to hammer. I might as well get this over with. It was well past noon now, and my dad would be home around eight p.m. It was a two-hour round trip to the state park, plus it would take about an hour for me to line up transportation and get my gear ready. That left me about four and a half or five hours to find the dragon bone.

  Not a problem for a clever, sneaky—and fast—jackal like me.

  I got home and took a quick shower to get most of the trail crud off of me, then jumped online to check the status of the Pine Loop trail in Brown County State Park. Trails closed all the time, for reasons like flooding or trail rebuilding, but I was in luck. Pine Loop was open. Better still, it was open under a yellow cautionary status, which meant “ride at your own risk.” Most riders would stay off the trail under these conditions. I might have the place to myself.

  Next, I found the website for a local taxi company and called them on my cell phone. I lowered my voice to sound as much like an adult as possible and told the dispatcher what I needed for “my son.” She said that a taxi with a running meter would be ridiculously expensive. Also, their taxis didn’t have bike racks. However, they were running a weekday special on their limousines, which had trailer hitches to which they could attach one of their bike racks. They could have a limo with a bike rack at my doorstep in twenty minutes for “only” $300.

  That was quite a bit of money, but I’m almost embarrassed to say that I had more than that in my sock drawer. My parents made a very good living, and it trickled down to me in the form of my allowance and a prepaid credit card that I used for things like food when they were both gone. I’d never been in a limo before, and it seemed like it would be cool. Besides, I had no idea how else I’d get to the trail.

  I booked the limo.

  I made arrangements for the driver to meet me somewhere other than my doorstep. No need to alert the neighbors to my plans if I wasn’t even going to tell my folks. I reserved it with my credit card, but told them I would pay cash at the end of the trip. That way my parents wouldn’t see the charge if they ever went looking.

  I put my credit card back into my wallet along with all the cash from my sock drawer, and I headed out to the garage to grab a few essentials. I was already wearing a clean pair of mountain biking shorts that had two large cargo pockets, but the short-sleeved mountain biking shirt I was wearing didn’t have any pockets, so I grabbed my empty hydration backpack.

  Sizing up the pack, I scanned the wall of garden tools. None of the tools would fit into the pockets of my shorts, but there was a miniature rake that would fit in the pack. The rake had three pointy tines, so I’d have to be careful to keep them positioned away from the hydration bladder. I would have preferred to pull the bladder out, but I’d be gone for hours and I’d definitely need something to drink.

  I put the rake into the backpack and gathered up my helmet, riding shoes, riding gloves, and sunglasses, and took everything out to the driveway, along with my mountain bike. I ran back into the house to fill the hydration bladder with water, and I stuffed one of my pockets with energy bars. Then I shoved my wallet and cell phone into my other pocket and locked up the house.

  I geared up in the driveway and raced out of my neighborhood with my heart beating faster than it should. I tried not to think about all the rules I was breaking. My mom had already given me a hard time about not telling her that I’d gone to Phoenix’s house. If she found out about the limo, there would be no way that she’d allow me to go to China. I might successfully find the dragon bone and bring it home, but not have a way to get it to Hú Dié. Whatever happened, I needed to make sure that I was home before either of my parents.

  I reached the parking lot of a large grocery store as a long black limousine swung into it. I smiled despite my nervousness. The limo looked sweet. The driver parked, and I pulled up beside his window. He wasn’t all that old, maybe a college student, and was wearing a suit and tie. He tried to ignore me, but I banged on the window and pointed to the bike rack attached to the back of the limo. His eyebrows raised, and he lowered his window.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.

  “No joke,” I said, taking off my helmet and sunglasses. “You’re my ride. You want me to put my bike on the rack? Or should you do it?”

  The driver frowned. “Just a minute. I was told that I was driving a kid to go mountain biking, but I figured there would be, you know, a parent or adult along for the ride.”

  “Nope, just me.”

  “I’m not sure this is cool. I need to check into it.” He picked up a cell phone.

  “My dad booked the limo for me,” I said hurriedly. “He’s a lawyer. You want to check with him?”

  “A lawyer?” the driver said, putting the phone back down. “Well, if he doesn’t have a problem with it, we’re good. I’ll get your bike, kid. You get in the back.” He opened his door and got out.

  I did my best to contain my relief, glad that he didn’t call my bluff. I got off of my bike and handed it over, then climbed into the rear of the limo, removing my hydration backpack. I closed the door and glanced around. This was easily the coolest vehicle I’d ever been in. You could only enter the gigantic rear passenger section from one side of the limo because the other side was a massive leather seat that wrapped almost all the way around the perimeter. You could probably fit ten adults back here. There was a small bar stocked with bottled water and soda. There were also two televisions and at least a dozen surround-sound speakers. LED rope lights ringed the ceiling, the lights pulsing to the beat of dance music.

  I took off my riding gloves and found the stereo controls. I had begun to flip through the satellite radio stations when the large glass window separating the passenger area from the driver slid down.

  “Ready to roll,” the driver said. “Your name’s Jake, right? At least, that’s what they told me.”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Michael. You okay back there?”

  “I’m great. This is pretty sweet.”

  “It is. The water and soda are yours for the taking. If you need anything else, just bang on the glass.”

  “Okay.”

  Michael glanced at a GPS unit set into the dashboard. “I’ve got us going to Brown County State Park for a couple hours.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “There’s a mountain bike trail called Pine Loop.”

  “Sounds good. Anyplace else?”

  “No. Just back home—” I paused. “Er … I mean, here.”

  Michael smirked. “Your folks don’t really know that you’re doing this, do they? Otherwise, I’d have picked you up in front of your house.”

  “Um—”

  Michael raised a hand. “No need to answer that. I’d rather not know. Just remember this little conversation when it comes time to tip me at the end of the day.”

  I didn’t reply. I’d forgotten about a tip. It looked like I was going to have to give him a big one.

  Michael turned away, but then he looked back over his shoulder. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re going to meet a girl, aren’t you? I mean, there aren’t any races or anything on a Monday afternoon, right? And you wouldn’t just drop three hundred bucks to ride a stupid trail for a couple hours.”

  I felt my cheeks begin to redden. I was taking this trip because of a girl.

  Michael smirked. “I knew it! Your secret is safe with me. She isn’t getting into the back of this limo, though.”

  “No worries,” I said. “I … I mean, we are only going to ride the trails.”<
br />
  Michael nodded. “Just watch yourself. Girls are nothing but trouble, believe me.” He looked away again, and the window rose back up.

  I shook my head. How many lies was I going to tell today?

  The limo began to move, and I turned off the radio. I saw a switch for the lights and turned them off, too. I grabbed the television remote and sank into the long plush leather seat. I flipped through a few satellite TV channels, but just like at home, there wasn’t anything interesting on.

  I yawned and turned off the TV. I was suddenly tired. It seemed the flight from California, my ride with Hú Dié, and the stress over what I was about to do had taken its toll. I lay down and stretched out. The long, heavy vehicle absorbed every trace of road vibrations, making it feel as though I was back home on my living room couch. Two minutes later, I was sound asleep.

  “Jake! Wake up!”

  I opened my eyes to find that we’d arrived at the state park. I’d slept like a rock the entire drive. I sat up and saw that the window between Michael and me was down. The limo was pulling up to the park’s entrance gate.

  “I hope you brought some cash, Jake,” Michael said.

  “Yeah,” I groaned, and I fished my wallet out of my pocket.

  Michael stopped beside an entry gate and lowered his window.

  “Five dollars, please,” a park ranger said.

  I handed Michael a five-dollar bill, and he gave it to the ranger in exchange for a receipt to tape to the front windshield.

  “What’s the best way to get to Pine Loop?” Michael asked.

  The ranger handed him a map. “It’s in here. Very easy. Just stay on this road.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said. He pulled away from the gate and unfolded the map.

  I rubbed my eyes.

  “Looks easy enough,” Michael said.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “It’s not too far from this entrance.”

  By the time I put on my helmet, sunglasses, and gloves in the back of the limo, Michael was already pulling into the Pine Loop parking lot. I didn’t see any other cars. Michael parked, and we both got out. He took my mountain bike off of the rack as I slipped my hydration backpack over my shoulders.

  “Here you go,” Michael said, handing my bike to me. “I don’t see any sign of your honey.”