Lea 3-Book Collection

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Lea 3-Book Collection Page 10

by Lisa Yee


  I blushed and said, “Muito prazer,” which Zac had taught me to say when I met someone new. I glanced toward the house just in time to see the rose-colored curtains stir and move slightly to the side. Someone—or something—was watching us.

  Olivia turned to see what I was looking at and shook her head. “Tomás, vem! Come! Zac is home.”

  The front door opened slowly. A small boy around five years old raced out and hid behind Olivia’s legs. From what I could see, he had dark black hair like his father, and his complexion was lighter like his mother’s. He peeked out at me with big curious brown eyes and long eyelashes, and then ran and hid behind Marcos. Moments later, he made a break for it and raced into my brother’s arms. In one fluid motion, Zac picked him up and twirled him around, just like he used to do with me when I was little. The boy squealed with delight and buried his face in Zac’s shoulder.

  “Lea, there’s someone special I want you to meet,” Zac said, grinning widely. “This young fellow here is Tomás! Tomás, esta é a minha irmã—this is my sister, Lea.”

  Tomás clung to Zac the way he had to his mother. Every now and then, he peered out to look at me. Each time I waved, he’d hide again. I continued playing peekaboo with Tomás until I felt something nipping my shoe. I looked down to see a colorful red-and-orange rooster pecking at my shoelaces.

  Startled, I yelped and jumped away. When I ran, the rooster chased me. Finally, I leapt onto a tree stump at the edge of the yard. The rooster growled and strutted around me.

  “What happened to the big brave Lea?” Zac teased.

  “Galo Louco!” Marcos yelled at the chicken. He turned to Tomás and gestured at him to help me.

  Tomás ran toward me and scooped up the rooster. Then he set him down in a small fenced-off area of the yard near a red wooden henhouse.

  “Please excuse Galo Louco. He’s our crazy rooster,” Olivia said apologetically as she helped me down off the tree stump. “Not too friendly, but he watches out for our chickens, and they lay the best eggs. This yard is his roost, and he’s jealous of you!”

  Hmm. I wasn’t sure whether to feel honored or nervous that a crazy chicken was jealous of me. I made a mental note to try to avoid any future encounters with Galo Louco.

  When Marcos had said that Olivia was preparing a meal for us, he had neglected to tell me that it was more like a feast. Thick slices of fresh watermelon, mango, and pineapple were piled high on a platter alongside fruits I’d never heard of, such as carambola, a sour fruit shaped like a star, and jackfruit, which reminded me of a tart banana. Next to that were plates of grilled fish, corn cakes, and cheesy rolls called pão de queijo.

  We sat on long benches on either side of the table. Olivia made sure that my plate was never empty. I especially liked the tapioca pancakes stuffed with bananas.

  “Try the goat cheese,” Olivia said, passing me the plate. “Our neighbors down the river raise goats, and this was made from their milk,” she said.

  Fresh goat cheese and grubs in one day! Now that was something blog-worthy.

  As we feasted, I told Olivia and Marcos about the blog I was writing about my trip in Brazil. “My classmates can’t wait to hear about the rainforest,” I said.

  Olivia told me that all her students had been very excited when Zac visited her class to talk about his rainforest studies. “But I think they were most excited to hear about how different life is in St. Louis. They thought it was funny that students in the United States take a bus to school instead of riding a boat!”

  “A school boat?” I asked, tickled by the thought of it.

  Olivia nodded as she cut up a piece of fish on Tomás’s plate. “Tomás just completed kindergarten, and in two years he’ll be in my class.”

  I looked at Tomás, who peered at me nervously and scooted closer to Zac. I could tell that he still wasn’t too sure about me. And could I blame him? I had to admit that I hadn’t made a good first impression by running around the yard in fear of a chicken.

  As the conversation continued, I couldn’t help noticing Tomás and Zac. They whispered with their heads close together, and Zac kept making Tomás laugh by making funny faces. I felt a tug on my heart, remembering that Zac used to do that with me when I was little.

  “What do you think, Lea?” Marcos said as he handed me the platter of tropical fruit. “It would be a great story for your blog.”

  I blushed. “Excuse me, I spaced out for a second. What did you ask me?”

  “I was asking if I could take you and Zac out on the river in the morning,” Marcos repeated.

  “Oh, yes!” I said a little too loudly. Trying to be more subdued, I added, “That would be nice, thank you.”

  As much as I was enjoying dinner, I couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning, when I’d be sailing down the famed Amazon River, exploring the rainforest, and seeing wild animals up close at last!

  Once we had finished dinner and cleaned up, Olivia helped me get settled in Tomás’s room. It looked a lot like Abby’s little brother’s room. Lots of books lined the bookshelves, posters of soccer players decorated the walls, and crayon drawings of rainforest animals were pinned on a bulletin board. On the bed was a pile of stuffed animals, and I noticed one well-worn, goofy-looking monkey that seemed to be the most loved.

  “I can sleep on the couch,” I told Olivia as she put fresh sheets on the bed.

  “It’s fine,” she assured me. “You’ll be more comfortable here. Tomás will sleep with us.”

  The little boy peered at me from behind his mother. His bangs almost touched his eyelashes. Olivia said something to him in Portuguese and he nodded solemnly.

  “Bath time,” Olivia explained to me. “He hates the idea of taking a bath—but once he’s in the tub, it’s impossible to get him out!”

  After a few minutes, I could hear Tomás singing and splashing around. I sat down at his small desk with my tablet. Even though I was exhausted, I was determined to post a blog about my first day in the Amazon rainforest. I included photos of the grubs, and typed a caption:

  It’s not quite as good as St. Louis’s famous gooey butter cake, but this local treat tastes nutty, probably because the larvae—a.k.a. grubs—were nestled in the center of palm nuts. Roasted, they don’t taste half bad! Who knows what else I’ll see—and eat—tomorrow!

  After I posted to my blog, I checked my e-mail. There was one from Mom and Dad asking if we had made it safely. This was my first trip apart from them.

  Camila had written to me saying she missed me already. I looked at my pink wish bracelet. I had wished that Camila and I would stay friends forever; the legend was that my wish would come true when the bracelet fell off on its own. I wrote back to tell her I missed her too. P.S. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that you’ll be able to visit St. Louis soon! I added.

  Tomás came back into his room, freshly scrubbed and in his pajamas. Without taking his eyes off me, he gathered some books and picked up his stuffed monkey.

  “Macaco,” Tomás said, holding up the monkey. Then he pointed to himself. “Meu macaco!”

  I nodded. “Your monkey,” I said. “Thank you for lending me your room, Tomás. Obrigada.”

  He backed out the door. Then he held up Macaco again and said, “Meu!” before turning around and running down the hall.

  I tried not to laugh. When I was little, I had a stuffed animal that Ama had brought back for me from Thailand. I named her Ellie the Elephant. Ellie meant the world to me, so I knew how Tomás felt. I still keep Ellie on my desk in my room.

  I turned off my tablet and crawled into bed. Just as I was about to lie down, Tomás raced back into the room, grabbed the pillow out from under me, and disappeared.

  I hit my head on the headboard, but shook it off and reached for the other pillow. I was exhausted. Not long ago, I had listened to the rhythmic music of the ocean’s waves as I drifted off to sleep. Tonight I was serenaded by the quiet of the rainforest, the rustle of the leaves in the breeze, and the murmur of Portuguese a
s Olivia and Marcos spoke softly to each other in the next room.

  Feeling relaxed, I opened Ama’s travel journal and began to read. But I only got a few paragraphs in before I fell asleep.

  t seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I awoke to the sounds of Zac and Marcos talking and pans clattering. I quickly got dressed, excited to start my first day of exploring the rainforest.

  “Bom dia!” Marcos said brightly when I wandered into the kitchen. He was slicing a fresh, juicy pineapple into chunks. Tomás stood on a stool at the counter, carefully placing bread on a plate one slice at a time and making sure it was stacked evenly.

  “Bom dia,” I responded, rubbing my eyes. I glanced at the clock. 5:00? What!? What was I doing up at five o’clock on my vacation? I yawned. “Why is everybody up so early?” I asked.

  “Because Marcos has to give morning tours before it gets too hot outside,” Zac shouted over the whirr of the coffee grinder. “And he promised to take us on our tour first.”

  “Lea, would you mind gathering some eggs from the henhouse for our breakfast?” Olivia asked. She was stirring a pot full of beans on the stove. “Seven or eight should be fine.”

  I stepped outside and looked for Galo Louco. Phew, I thought. The coast is clear. The gate was open and a few of the chickens were outside pecking at the ground. Some were brown, others were reddish, and still others were a combination of both colors. I picked up a worn woven basket near the gate and hooked it over the crook of my arm. I walked up the ramp to the henhouse and ducked through the short doorway.

  Inside, about a dozen hens sat on their eggs, making low, soothing clucking noises. They didn’t seem very interested in me. The first couple of eggs were easy to gather from the unoccupied beds. This is sort of fun, I thought. I felt like a farmer. I made a mental note to return later to take pictures for my blog.

  As I continued gathering the eggs, I heard a growling sound. I looked down, and facing me was none other than Galo Louco. I averted my eyes and continued gathering eggs. Three, four, five…

  Suddenly Galo Louco began squawking and pecking at my sandals.

  “Shoo! Shoo!” I shouted. Then he squawked louder and started chasing me around the small henhouse. I screamed, dropped the basket, and ran, hitting my head on the doorway on the way out.

  When I rushed back into the Barroses’ house and told Olivia what had happened, Zac rolled his eyes. “It does no good if you gather eggs but leave them in the henhouse,” he told me.

  I forced a laugh, but I was embarrassed. It was bad enough that Olivia had to put ice on my forehead where I had hit it, but when she sent little Tomás back to get the eggs, I felt like an idiot.

  I quickly forgot my embarrassment when I started eating breakfast. I had never had eggs as fresh or delicious as the ones Olivia fried up.

  “Zac,” I asked as I reached for seconds, “after Marcos takes us on the river tour this morning, can we go on a hike?”

  Zac sopped up some beans with his bread and shoveled it into his mouth. “I’m not sure you’re ready,” he said.

  “Ready? Of course I’m ready!” I said confidently.

  “But if you’re scared of a little chicken, what will you do if you see an anaconda?” Zac said with his mouth full.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve held lots of snakes at the St. Louis Zoo,” I reminded him.

  “True,” Zac mused. “You’re the only little kid who ever volunteered. But an Amazon anaconda is one of the biggest snakes in the world. They can grow as long as a bus and weigh over 500 pounds!” His eyes lit up. My brother had always loved snakes. When he was in high school, Zac had an impressive collection of lifelike rubber snakes, and we often heard screams in the house whenever Dad or Mom found one hidden in the towels or under the sheets.

  Marcos took a sip of coffee. “Anacondas squeeze their prey to death,” he said casually. “But you probably don’t need to worry about one chasing you down. In fact, the most dangerous animal in the jungle is not a big one, like the giant river otter, which can be up to six feet long. Nor the pirarucu fish, which grows up to nine feet long and over 200 pounds. No, the most dangerous animal in the Amazon is actually the tiny mosquito, because it can carry diseases.”

  I nodded. Now I was glad Mom had made me get shots before traveling, even though I wasn’t thrilled at the time.

  I looked Zac in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”

  Zac shrugged and gave me a playful wink.

  “We had better get going if we want to get a good boat ride in before my first tour,” Marcos said. He started gathering the plates.

  “You all go ahead,” Olivia said. “Tomás and I will clean up.”

  After I slathered myself with enough sunscreen to create a solar eclipse, I reached for the insect repellent. Zac did an exaggerated cough and waved at the air in front of him as I doused myself with so much bug spray that any insect unfortunate enough to land on me would just slide off.

  “There aren’t many mosquitos here on the water,” Marcos explained as he lifted a tarp off his motorized canoe. The bright red boat was fairly big and could seat up to a dozen people. I noticed that Marcos had painted the name Tomás in swirly script on the boat’s side.

  “Oh, I thought this place would be full of mosquitos,” I said. I stepped into the boat carefully and snapped the buckles on my life jacket.

  “The acid in the water repels them,” Marcos explained. “But if it’s mosquitos you’re interested in, I’m sure there will be plenty who’d love to meet you when you’re hiking through the rainforest!”

  I cringed and gave him a weak smile.

  Rocky hills and walls of tall green trees and plants rose up on both sides of the river. It was already very hot even though the sun had only just begun to rise. But the wind felt nice as we sped along the river. I loved looking behind us as the canoe cut through the black-blue water, leaving a bubbly white trail in its wake.

  Marcos slowed the boat as we entered what looked like a hidden tunnel of plants and branches. It was so beautiful I could hardly contain my excitement. Marcos cut the engine and unhooked the oars from the edge of the boat. I listened to the soft splashes of Marcos’s paddle entering the water as he maneuvered the boat through a maze of tangled tree roots. Zac lifted a lantern so that we could see better. The black water reflected the plants and trees all around us, as if we were gliding over a mirror.

  “See these plants?” Zac said, gesturing around us. “Those are actually treetops. The trunks are underwater. When the rainy season ends and the water level lowers, you could walk around the bottom of this river right here.”

  “The trees can live like that?” I asked. It was hard to imagine. But then I remembered the tide pools Zac had shown me in Praia Tropical. There, I had been able to walk on the coral and rock, knowing that during high tide, it would all be under the sea.

  “Where are all the animals?” I asked, motioning around me.

  “Well, there are piranhas right below you,” Zac said.

  “Seriously?” I asked, instinctively tucking my feet up off the bottom of the canoe.

  “Seriously,” Marcos said. He pulled out a couple of bamboo fishing rods and handed them to me and Zac.

  Zac pulled a small plastic bag out of his pocket. “Put this on the hook,” my brother instructed, handing me a small chunk of meat.

  I watched Zac bait his hook, and then I did the same.

  Then we waited. And waited. Zac got a couple of bites, but when he tried to reel them in, the fish got away. All of a sudden there was a tug on my fishing pole.

  “Yank it up!” Zac cried.

  “Be careful,” Marcos cautioned, as I stood up. “Yank fast, but in a small movement.”

  I wasn’t about to let this fish go. I wanted to catch a fish before my brother did!

  “I’ve got it. I’ll be careful,” I assured them…right before I tripped over the cooler.

  I accidentally threw my fishing pole up into the air as I splashed headfirst into the Amazon Riv
er—filled with man-eating piranhas!

  anic washed over me. Flailing, I grasped for the edge of the canoe, kicking my legs to ward off any of the vicious piranhas that may have wanted to devour me.

  What was that? I shuddered as something skimmed my leg. I screamed and kicked at something wrapped around my big toe.

  As I gripped the canoe, I felt Zac’s and Marcos’s strong arms lifting me into the boat. “It’s got me!” I yelled, pointing at my foot. I was afraid to look.

  “You’re fine!” Zac laughed, and I felt him pull something off my toe. “See?” He held up a clump of river weed.

  Gasping, I managed to sputter “thank you” to Zac and Marcos as I tried to catch my breath.

  “You okay?” Zac asked as he reached for my flip-flops floating on the river’s surface. “I know how much you loved snorkeling, but isn’t this a bit much?”

  “How can you joke at a time like this?” I cried. “I could have been eaten alive!”

  Marcos wrapped a towel around my shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay. But it’s actually a myth that piranhas eat humans,” he explained as he cast his own fishing line into the water. “In 1913, your president Theodore Roosevelt decided to tour the Amazon. So the local people came up with a plan to impress him. They caught piranhas, isolated them, and starved them. When Roosevelt arrived, the locals threw a live cow into the water and the piranhas devoured it. Roosevelt wrote about what he saw—and the myth that piranhas are ruthless killers was born.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said. So all this time the piranhas’ reputation for being man-eaters was an urban legend—or rather, an Amazon legend!

  “So much about the rainforest is misunderstood,” Zac chimed in. “People want to believe that it’s this untouchable place filled with deadly piranhas, and that there are so many trees that the forest is infinite.”

  I was about to ask Zac what he meant when Marcos tugged on his fishing pole. “Aha!” he yelled. “This is a piranha!” He held up a small, squirming fish. He removed it from his fishing hook and held its body with a firm grip so that it couldn’t wriggle away. It was dark brown and flat, and I could see its tiny sharp teeth. “Watch,” Marcos said. He held up a leaf to the piranha’s mouth and it chomped away at it. “It might bite you, but it certainly isn’t going to devour you. So the next time you fall into the water, Lea,” he said with a wink, “just remember that you don’t need to worry about the piranhas.” He tossed the little piranha back into the water and turned to me. “It’s the caimans, electric eels, and water snakes that you have to watch out for.”

 

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