by Barrie Summy
The rhinos stand still. Slowly, slowly, they turn their heads and watch me.
I dribble Sassy Girl on the ground. Then, still holding the bottle, I reach out my shampoo-soaked arms. I talk to the animals in a low, soothing voice. “Come on, rhinos. Come here, rhinos.”
Gradually the herd pulls a U-ey, stands and stares at me. I keep murmuring.
Ongava, the baby rhino, sniffs the air and steps toward me. Three females follow. The last rhino eyeballs me, then ambles in my direction.
I walk carefully backward. Junie falls into step, holding out an open Sassy Girl bottle. My mother is right there with me. My grandfather flutters above my head. With a shovel, Josh scoops up the bananas and carries them into the hut. Opening a bottle on the run, he catches up with us and joins in.
We make a strange, slow-moving procession across the moonlit SoCal savanna: five rhinos, a pudgy brown wren, a ghost mother and three humans with open shampoo bottles.
I hang up the phone Friday morning and pull a silver package of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts out of its box. “That was Rob.”
“And?” Elbows on the kitchen counter, Junie leans forward on her bar stool, waiting for my answer.
I tear open the wrapper with my teeth and tip out a Pop-Tart. “Great breakfast, eh?” I take a bite.
“Come on, Sherry.” The back legs of the stool thump down as she straightens up. “What’d he say?”
I chew slowly. Junie’s fun to tease. “His boss brought him back early from Yuma. Rob’s writing the whole story for his newspaper. With a byline.” I stick a striped straw into a can of Squirt. “He got the assignment because he knows us. Plus, he’d already done a bunch of homework when he originally thought he might get a scoop out of it. He’d heard about the unauthorized bananas from a friend at the Park. Since last night, Rob researched Keflit. He told me it kills animals so fast the poison doesn’t have time to mess up the meat or the horn.”
“Incredible.” Junie has this appalled look on her face. “Did he say what he’s putting in the article?”
“Rob already talked to the police officers who responded to our nine-one-one call. He’s gonna report on the police taking our statements at the Park last night, on the paramedics checking us out ’cause of the tranquilizer darts and on them checking out Gary after he came to.” I slurp. “He’s even going to call Josh’s aunt so she can tell her side of getting the call from the cops to pick us up and learning about us solving the mystery.”
“I know what I want to tell Rob.” Junie waves her Pop-Tart. “How great it felt when Gary confessed. And how exciting it was that the police captured Gary’s partner when he arrived at the Park with dry ice.”
“Thinking about that makes me feel sick. I mean, Gary and his partner were actually planning to hack up a rhino right there at the Park, then transport it on dry ice to the restaurant.” I shiver. “And they would’ve done it.”
Junie rubs my shoulder. “Yeah, the police said Gary and his partner’re already wanted in South Africa and Zimbabwe for poaching. They’re bad dudes.”
“Rob told me the old people and the chef are in for questioning. And the San Francisco police are looking for Dr. Kim.”
“Does your mom know?”
I shrug. “I set out coffee earlier, but she never showed.”
“Did Rob say what happened to Thomas?”
“He has a job interview at the Park.” I sip.
“Wow.” Junie bites into her Pop-Tart. “So, what was the deal with him on the tennis courts?”
“From Sue, he knew about the bananas and about how Damon hassled Kendra over her rhino commitments. Plus, Thomas said the rhinos were acting weird.” I sip again. “Anyway, the first banana drop happened after Kendra arrived in San Diego. Thomas thought Damon might be involved, so he was spying.”
“I bet Kendra and Damon break up.” Junie pushes the straw to the side and chugs from my Squirt. “Do you think you’ll stay in touch with her?”
“No, it’s not like we’re friends or anything. But it was nice of her to give me a ride that time.”
“Did you at least invite her to the beach?”
“Sorta. Through Sue. Sue phoned this morning when you were in the shower. Gina’s finally in labor. Depending on how that goes, Sue, Thomas and Kendra might make it.”
“Very cool.”
“Oh, and Junie,” I add, all fake nonchalant, “Rob’s bringing a photographer to the beach to get pictures of us for the paper.”
Junie’s eyes grow wide. She screams.
I scream.
We hold hands and disco-dance around the living room.
I sing at the top of my lungs, “I’m a Fearless Rhino Warrior! Watch my moves!” And I do a few ace karate leaps and air chops while Junie pirouettes.
“Shut up.” Amber stomps into the room. “Shut up. Shut up.” Then she crumples to the pink carpet and bursts into tears.
Junie and I stare at each other.
Junie tiptoes over to her cousin and kneels down.
Amber flops onto her back. Smudges of mascara and emerald eye shadow ring her puffy eyes. The rest of her face is red and splotchy. Very unglam. Very un-Amber.
In a soft voice, Junie asks, “What happened?”
Amber gives a huge, mucusy sniff. “He dumped me.”
“The twenty-one-year-old guy?” Junie asks.
She nods, sticking out her lower lip.
I’m usually ultrasensitive, kind and understanding. But before I can get control of my tongue, I pop off, “You barely knew him.”
Amber sits up and stares me down. “Have you ever been dumped?”
“Well, no.” Until now, with Josh, I’ve never had a potential dumper.
“It’s excruciatingly painful. Like, way worse than cramps.” She evil-eyes me.
“Hey, your eyes are brown.” I can’t help it. Now that I’m a master detective, details lunge out at me.
Amber says with attitude, “Haven’t you ever heard of colored contact lenses?”
“We need your help,” Junie says to Amber.
“We do?” I say.
Junie kicks me in the shin and whispers under her breath, “Hair, makeup, clothes, photos, fame.”
“We do.” I nod a bunch of times.
Amber lies back down, lifeless, stringy blond hair fanning out under her head. “Sorry, I’m too depressed.”
Junie gives a brief rundown of last night’s events. She ends with, “You invited a bunch of people to the pizza party on the beach this afternoon. They’ll be disappointed if you’re a no-show. And you have to glamorize us. Rob wants to take pictures of us for the paper. This is his big break as a reporter.”
“Rob’ll be there?” Amber opens one eye, then closes it. “No, my emotional state is, like, too fragile.”
“Josh is bringing his cousin who goes to college,” I say.
Amber opens both eyes. “Is he cute?”
“He must be.” I shrug. “He’s related to Josh.”
Amber bounces to her feet. “To the kitchen, girls.” She marches ahead of us. “We have lots of work to do. Starting with me.”
Junie and I walk side by side, making our way at snail speed down the sidewalk and over the sand. Amber loaned us adorable, but dangerously high, platform sandals. One false step, and we’re crippled for life. Amber, on the other hand, is way out in front, practically galloping, she’s in such a hurry to get to the pizza party.
Junie starts to topple over and clamps on to my arm.
I glance at her. Man oh man, but she looks pretty good. Myself, I’m on fi-fi-fire. Amber was, like, a genius when it came to spiffing us up. That girl could make a fortune doing makeovers at the mall. I mean, with tips and all.
And who knew so much beauty power lurked in normal old kitchen stuff like mayo and raw eggs? Although it did feel a bit weird ignoring the bazillion Mary Kay products that my great-aunt has crammed all over the condo.
After a skin-care regimen, Amber eyelined and mascaraed and glossed us.
And she’s so right—more is better. Then she plucked our eyebrows. Ouchie mama. Poor Junie was really yelping. Of course, her werewolfish brows gave the tweezers a major workout. Amber said my eyebrows were almost perfect just naturally.
Next Amber plugged in her ceramic straightener, which I swear is like a magic wand in her hands. My hair has never, ever looked this classy: straight, frizz free, well behaved. And for all three of us, Amber pinched up an adorable amount of hair at the back of our heads with a glittery clip. Can you say beautiful?
I pull down on my supershort knit skirt and up on my tube top. It’s one of those tube tops with a built-in bra. Amber loaned me a pair of gel inserts. I totally agree with her—they don’t look at all like fake-o boobs; more like I had a growth spurt in my sleep last night.
I say to Junie, “Can you believe how fab we are?”
She grunts a yes. “But spring break’ll be over by the time we get down the beach. When are Rob and the photographer coming?”
“Not for a couple of hours.”
“We might make that.” She kicks off her sandals. “Forget these stilts.”
“I’m with you.” I slip my feet out, then bend over very carefully, so as not to thong-flash anyone, and scoop up my sandals.
Ahead of us, Amber waves with big arm movements. She found the guys.
Junie and I speed up.
And then I spot him.
Leaning back against a cooler on a big gray-and-red-striped blanket is Josh. His Hawaiian board shorts ride low on his hips, and he’s wearing a San Diego Padres T-shirt. With a flat hand on my perfect brows, I shade my eyes. He looks good. No, great. No, greater than great.
I put my hand over my gel boob to slow down my heart. He’s incredibly gorgey-gorgeous. And he’s waiting for me. Sherlock Holmes Baldwin.
Our eyes lock.
“Wow,” Josh says.
In my whole entire life, no guy has ever looked at me with that particular look in his eyes. Never. It’s beaming straight through his blue-tinted sunglasses. My legs go jelly wobbly.
He swallows. “Hey, Sherry and Junie. This is my cousin Mike.” He gestures to one of the guys sitting on the blanket.
Mike has dark hair sprouting from his chin and his long toes. He reminds me of a hobbit. Seriously, his middle name could be Bilbo or Frodo. Apparently Amber’s a big Lord of the Rings fan, as she’s sitting very, very close to him.
She scoots even closer. “Mike’s in engineering at UC San Diego.”
I wave. “Hi, Mike.” I drop my sandals beside the blanket.
“And this”—Josh introduces the second guy—“is my old neighbor Aidan.”
“Aidan’s in seventh grade,” Amber adds. “Like you two.”
I smile a hello at Aidan and blink. Someone needs to clue him in about antiglare lenses. I swear the sun is ricocheting off his huge owl glasses and burning me.
Junie’s staring at Aidan. “I know you.” She pauses, doing her tongue-between-the-teeth thinking thing. “Did you do a project on testing the strengths of electromagnetic fields for the national science fair last year?”
He index-fingers his glasses higher up on his nose. “Yeah.”
“I did the PicoTurbine windmills.” Palms up, she says, “We were right beside each other.”
Aidan shakes his head. “Really?”
The fact that he doesn’t recognize her shows what a miracle worker Amber is.
“Are you entering this year?” Junie asks.
And they start an überboring conversation about science experiments. So it is true. There really is someone for everyone—a nerd for Junie, a college hobbit for Amber and a Josh for me. In the middle of this heavy philosophical thought, my phone rings.
I dig it out of my mini-backpack. “Hi, Dad. I’ve been trying to call you.”
“We escaped to another island for a few days for some peace and quiet.”
Ha. Junie’s relatives must be driving him and The Ruler nuts.
“And there was no cell coverage. Anyway, Margaret just got hold of us. We’re so proud of you, pumpkin.”
“Thanks.”
“How did you ever get involved?”
“Oh, it’s kind of hard to explain.” When you’re standing on the beach next to Josh Morton, looking your absolute coolest on a perfect hair day, the last thing you want to do is spend time talking to your father.
“Was it dangerous?”
I think about being taped up and Gary’s threats about his mean partner and the poison and the rhinos. Then I eyeball Josh, with his cool shades and narrow hips, and the highlights in his hair glinting in the sun. I go for the short answer. “Not really.”
“We want all the details. It’s not every day my little girl is a hero.”
“Hey, can I phone you later? I’m kinda on the beach with a bunch of people right now.”
“Say hello to Paula first.”
“Sherry, don’t buy a cell phone case,” Paula says. “I found one in a tiki print. Similar blue-green colors to your bedroom walls.”
“Thanks, Paula!” We figure out a callback time, and she’s very reasonable. I disconnect, then toss the phone and backpack on the blanket.
“Let’s go for a walk.” Josh stands.
He holds out a hand to me. I grab it like a natural.
Incredible. I’m walking along a Southern California beach, holding hands with Josh Morton. I take a deep, oceany breath. From this point on, true love will always be associated with the smell of salt and rotting seaweed.
He says, “You look great.”
“Thanks.” I should, considering how much effort it took.
“And you were awesome at the Wild Animal Park.”
Does life get any better? Have I pinnacled at age thirteen?
Waves lapping over our feet, we stroll along, discussing the whole rhino experience. Then we move on to school, friends, parents. He’s easy-schmeazy to talk to.
And because the beach is pretty empty, we’re not dodging Boogie boarders or Frisbees. We’re just a happy couple out for a walk in the sun and surf.
A happy couple? Oh no. Eeks. Ikes. Ack. What do happy couples do? They kiss. Only, I don’t know anything about happy-couple kissing. I’ve been too busy with the mystery to try to figure out any romantic stuff.
Why didn’t I quiz Amber earlier, when I was lying on the kitchen floor, wet tea bags plopped on my eyes? She could’ve given me the Cliff’s Notes version on kissing. As in, whose head goes in which direction? As in, how do I make sure my teeth don’t crash into his?
We meander behind a huge boulder.
Eeks. Ikes. Ack. It’s the perfect kissing spot, with waves crashing and sand glittering like it’s full of gold.
Josh steps toward me.
I stare at Josh’s eyes. The look is there. Big-time there.
Well, I did outsmart a Cape buffalo. And I did free everyone from duct-tape bondage. And I did save my mother’s afterlife. Surely I can manage the kissing thing.
I put my hand behind Josh’s neck and pull his head toward me.
In the very second our lips meet, I’m instantly changed forever.
Yow, yow, yowser.
Oh my. Oh wow. Oh yummy.
I’m riding the roller coaster, front seat, hands reaching for the clouds.
I break for air but keep my eyes closed. I want to remember this amazing, fantastical moment forever. I memorize the sound of waves smacking the shore, the coconutty smell of sunscreen, the bright sun baking my skin, the electric tingle of my lips.
I will definitely send a thank-you card to the French government, because, as everyone knows, they invented kissing.
When I open my eyes, Josh is peering around the rock. “A bunch of people just piled out of SUVs.”
“Amber’s friends.”
“Someone dressed all in pink has arrived,” he reports.
“My great-aunt Margaret.”
“A girl and a guy with a surf board are with her.”
“Lindsey and Luke. I met t
hem at a restaurant. She’ll be a great chef someday. Him, not so much.”
“They’re carrying pizza,” Josh reports. “Loads of pizza.”
I move closer to him. “Oh, we still have a few minutes.”
He gives me that look again.
A breeze blows my hair and whispers in my ear, “Sherry.”
It’s my mother!
With a finger, Josh lifts my chin.
Think fast, Sherry. Think fast.
I cough. I double over and cough again, but deeper this time, like I’m diseased.
“You okay?” Josh asks.
I shake my head. Fake hack. Fake hack.
He pounds on my back.
Real hack. Real hack.
A plump wren lands by my feet and squawks. Probably informing me my life is over, now that my mother has caught me on the beach skank-dressed and engaged in heavy-duty kissing. How long has she been here?
His voice all anxious, Josh asks, “Can I get you something?”
“Soda,” I rasp.
I wait till he’s sprinting off down the beach. “Hi, Mom.”
“We did it, Sherry. We succeeded in saving the rhinos and getting the perps locked up.” Her pitch rises with excitement.
I let out a breath of relief. She obviously didn’t see me kissing, or she’d be blasting me from here to Phoenix or maybe even Paris. “We are awesome.”
Mom laughs. “Very awesome.” She pauses. “Josh Morton. He’s a nice boy?”
I nod.
“I trust you. You’re a good judge of character.”
So this is what growing up is all about.
“Your grandfather and I are taking off for Phoenix now,” Mom continues. “We have to take the trip home pretty slowly. The bird specialist told us to build in several water-and-Maalox stops so Grandpa doesn’t get dehydrated again.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Next weekend, your grandparents are going together to Sonoma for a few days. Grandma signed up for Getting in Touch with the Spirit World classes.”
“That’d be way cool if Grandma could commune with you and Grandpa. We could all chill together.”
Mom’s voice moves. If I could see her, I think I’d be staring straight into her dark eyes.
“Sherry, you are truly an amazing daughter. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”