Teddycats

by Mike Storey

  “What is our best chance of finding the camp?” asked Felix.

  “It’s a straight shot from my den,” said Luke.

  “So we are headed in the wrong direction,” said Felix.

  “I’m sorry,” Luke said, still confused. “I thought you guys knew where you were going.”

  Bill and Omar groaned. Diego bit his tongue, then spat blood on the ground.

  “That was the whole point of going to your den in the first place!” Bill shouted.

  “Oh, you’re right, Bill,” Luke said. “This is my fault. Here I was, thinking you visited my den to make peace with my family and offer your condolences because mere minutes ago you thought I was good as dead. But I guess it was all about you, as usual.”

  “A simple misunderstanding,” Felix said, snuffing out the argument before Bill could fire back. “But now we will need to make excellent time in order to double back and still scout the area by nightfall.”

  “So we’re really turning around?” Omar said. “We can’t cut through?”

  “You heard him. Turn it around,” Diego said. “Clamp it and get to marchin’.”

  Omar dropped his snout to the ground and wheeled around wordlessly.

  “Just be happy we figured this out when we did,” Felix said. “Every little bit of time we save counts.”

  Bill groaned loud and long. “From now on, every step we take, I’m just going to be thinking about the time we wasted.”

  “At least it’ll look familiar,” Omar said.

  “That’s the spirit,” said Felix.

  “Jeez, Bill,” Luke said. “My mom was right, you’re so grown up.”

  18

  THE SKY TURNED plum-colored as the jungle fell into twilight. There was a volley of baleful moans as the moon rose. Daytime bugs cleared out to make room for the heavier, glowing nighttime bugs. It had been a long, largely silent afternoon as they retraced their steps.

  The mission was not going as planned. They didn’t bother disturbing the (admittedly confused) Olingos when they passed the den again, though Luke waved half-heartedly. Bill had been gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw would be sore by dinnertime. They would have to make camp and renew the search in the morning. It felt like time was slipping away, along with their chances.

  He felt better after they settled down by a large, ferny stump and shared a rustle of grubs. The moon was low and fat, throwing soft silver on everything it touched. But it didn’t touch everything, not way down in the underbrush, and it was hard for Bill to ignore the ceaseless squawks, rattles, and flickers. Harder, at least, than during the day. It made Bill realize just how groomed and well-managed the Kingdom had been. Cloud Kingdom, where everything had its place and everything had a name, as quiet and smooth as a mountain pond. Bill realized that, if their mission truly succeeded, there would be ripples, waves, wakes. He would need to become much more comfortable with the unknown and the darkness, real quick.

  Somehow, Bill slept. His dreams were tense and chaotic: Versions of Maia, Elena, and Jack, his parents and the Elders—even Freddy and Doris, arguing over a few clumps of sweetmoss—slipped through his subconsciousness like pawfuls of sand.

  When he woke it was hot and bright, banners of blue sky between swaying limbs cackling like wind chimes. The jungle hum was friendlier, if still not exactly welcoming. Bill rubbed his eyes and yawned widely. It was one of those mornings, inside and out, that held the promise of a fresh beginning. The air was pungent, rich, and loamy. The jungle was so alive, so flowing and loaded, there was no way to imagine life outside of it.

  As usual, Diego was on watch, diligently surveying the perimeter. He didn’t trust anyone else to do the job. Bill brought him breakfast—berries and bark, nothing fancy, but still sure to be appreciated.

  “Morning, Diego,” Bill said, handing him the small meal.

  “Thanks, mate,” said Diego. He picked at Bill’s offering, distracted by his duty. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Sure sounded that way. You were snoring up a racket.”

  “What? No I wasn’t!”

  Bill didn’t snore. Snoring was for old, wheezy Teddycats like Omar’s father. Back when they were younger and still close, Bill would often spend the night at Omar’s den, and of the handful of oddities Bill remembered about those visits—the whole place smelled like a larva-choked log, for instance—it was Omar’s father’s tree-shaking snores that stood out the most. Bill almost laughed, thinking about how badly he’d missed home, only a few dens away, during those restless nights at Omar’s. Here he was lost in a foreign forest, claws to the wall, further from home than ever before.

  “Whatever you say,” Diego said with a smirk.

  “So,” Bill said, changing the subject, “when do you think we’ll land at the human den?”

  “It depends on your Olingo friend,” Diego said. “But we can’t be far now.”

  “You’ve scouted all over this jungle, right?”

  “I’ve been to the river and back,” Diego said. “But never this far down.”

  Diego finished the last of his breakfast. The sticky, ripe berries had stained his lips dark. He used the edge of a claw to clean the seeds from his teeth.

  Bill admired Diego’s claws. They were long, with graceful arcs that narrowed into glinting points.

  “Hey, Diego?” Bill asked. “Why do you think the humans are so interested in our claws?”

  Diego snorted. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

  It was hard to understand exactly what Diego was saying—his paw was still stuck in his mouth—so Bill just shook his head.

  “I tell ya, mate,” Diego said, finally pulling his paw from his mouth and considering his claws in the morning light, “at this point, these things are more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “I thought the claws kept us safe,” Bill said.

  Growing up in Cloud Kingdom, every lesson young Teddycats learned about claws (cleaning and sharpening techniques, situations for appropriate use, penalties for illegal unsheathing) included a long sermon on their role in the species’ salvation. According to the Elders, they were not so much tools for survival as divine gifts bestowed upon the species. That certainly sounded impressive, but wasn’t much for practicality.

  “Sure, they’ve served us reasonably well in the jungle. But I reckon the humans don’t want to climb trees with these babies.”

  Diego bared both sets of claws and held them up menacingly, just a hair away from Bill’s eyes.

  “Just ask Felix. The humans want to saw them off and make their little trinkets. They want these claws around their necks, and they don’t care where they come from or how badly it hurts.”

  Bill leaned back and closed his eyes. A blast of fear filled the sudden darkness with a ghostly image: a wide field dotted with crying Teddycats, a gang of humans charging off with a smoky hoot, lugging bindles filled with bloody claws.

  “I envy the Olingos,” Diego said. “Helpless as they are, in some ways, those little buggers are safer than we are. Here’s some advice, Garra: Want a long, peaceful life? Don’t go around havin’ anything the humans want.”

  “Yes, sir,” Bill mumbled, thinking Too late.

  He considered his own claws, smaller than Diego’s but still sharp. They could get you into trouble, sure, but could they ever truly get you out of it? They were a blessing and a curse, an honor and a burden.

  Diego yawned and scratched his lean frame. “Thanks for breakfast, kid.”

  “No problem,” said Bill, his own appetite off and running.

  The wind settled down and the clouds moved in. Everything wilted in the sweltering humidity. Diego explained that their proximity to the water meant increased chances of sudden, violent storms and possibly flooding.

  Felix assembled the group and laid out the day. Accordi
ng to Luke’s best guess, the human den was a straight shot down the river valley. However, they would need to make a hard choice. There was a wide, open savanna they had to cross. To skirt it would add a day to the trip that they—and Elena—could not afford. But crossing straight through would expose them to birds of prey and other predators. There would be no canopy, no coverage. It was like a frying pan.

  “It’s a trap,” Omar said, “and we’re walking right into it. I say we take the extra time and go around. What help are we to Elena or anybody if we get plucked to death?”

  Everyone shivered at the thought. Death by bird was low on the list of any jungle dweller.

  “No way,” Bill said. “We’ve already wasted a day heading in the wrong direction. I say we make a break for it, cover up, and burrow down when needed.”

  “And how’s old Felix supposed to burrow down through sand?” Diego asked. “He can barely keep up as it is.”

  “Or Luke, for that matter,” Omar said.

  “Hey, I’ve already been through it once before,” Luke said.

  “That’s true,” Felix said, “but that was at night, and you were in shock. You probably didn’t realize the danger you were in.”

  Luke shrugged.

  “How about the river?” Bill asked.

  “What about it?” Omar asked, his confidence buoyed by Diego’s agreement.

  “Why can’t we take the river down?”

  “Come on,” Omar said. “Get serious.”

  “I am serious,” said Bill. “Diego, is it possible?”

  The old scout was silent for a moment. Then he hopped up in front of the group.

  “We’re here,” Diego said, dropping a stone on the grass in front of him. “Got it?”

  “Yup,” Bill said.

  “Now, according to Luke, this blasted camp is on the other side of the savanna.” Diego drew a circle in front of the stone with his walking stick. “Here’s the savanna.”

  “Looks about right,” Luke said.

  Diego ignored him and scratched in a squiggly line along the right side of both their position and the savanna. “Here’s the river. With me so far?”

  More nods.

  “So we can either take our chances crossing the savanna, flank to the left, and add a day’s walk, or take the river and float right down past the camp.”

  “You’re saying it could work!” Bill said.

  “It could work, sure,” said Diego. “But it ain’t much safer than the other routes. The river’s a whole new pit of snakes.”

  “What are we gonna do?” scoffed Omar. “Build a raft?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” said Felix.

  19

  LUKE AND FELIX scrounged for useful materials—sticky mud, branches they could use to steer them down the river—while the Teddycats set to work with their claws. Beside them, the water, dark and immense, moved fast. Despite its far-reaching grumble, up close it was eerily quiet, almost silent. Bugs leapt and hissed across the wide surface as the current whipped along.

  Bill downed a cluster of slender rubber trees while Diego hacked them into usable fractions and sliced loose fronds into binding ribbons. Meanwhile Omar organized their output into tidy piles. Bill felt reinvigorated, almost as if he were back working on the fort, before everything was turned upside down.

  By midmorning they had assembled a no-frills yet river-worthy raft wide enough for the five of them, guided by a crude rudder. Luke found—tripped over, really—a large skeleton (Felix’s best guess was hippo) and brought back two long, curved rib bones.

  “How long is this going to take, anyways?” Omar asked nervously.

  Historically, Teddycats were inexperienced swimmers, and Omar’s aversion was stronger than average. He hated water and heights and had hoped his heroics would include neither.

  “Depends on the current and the wind,” said Bill.

  “Which is Bill’s fancy way of saying he hasn’t got a clue,” Omar sniped.

  “We could land by lunch, or we could never be seen again, lost to the elements,” Diego said. “No way to know until we set sail.”

  “Lunch?” said Luke. “There’s an idea. What’re we having?”

  Together they straddled the bank and unceremoniously dunked half of the vessel into the current. It very nearly washed away, anchored only by Diego’s claw as his legs stretched uncomfortably between the raft and the riverbank.

  Tree limbs bent down to the water, some leaves nearly brushing the surface. Bill climbed a trunk and scurried onto a limb, dropping down to the center of the raft with a backflipping flourish. Omar rolled his eyes. Bill and Diego assisted Felix aboard while Luke leapt on gleefully. It was fun for him to watch the Teddycats get so skittish around the water. Olingos had no such reservations. Even Bill, despite the showmanship, had a noticeable wobble as he waited for his river legs to materialize.

  “All right, Omar,” Bill said. “We’re ready to push off.”

  “Uh, well . . .” Omar said nervously. “Maybe I could meet you guys down at the human den instead?”

  “Let’s go, mate,” Diego said. He was still stretched between the bank and the raft, and the strain was taking its toll. His shoulders and hips twitched as the raft bobbed.

  “Or I could stay here, just in case anybody came by looking for us,” Omar said.

  “Whatever you decide, do it quick,” said Diego, groaning. The raft was beginning to slip away, the wood splintering as he tried to dig his claw deeper against the powerful current.

  “Omar, we need you with us,” Felix said.

  “Come on, Omar!” chirped Luke. “Hop on!”

  Bill sighed. It was time. “Omar, a few days ago I would have pushed you off this raft myself. But today, we’re in this together. We’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  Omar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped on board just as the anchor of Diego’s paw skidded off the bank and into the coursing water.

  The current swept them up without ceremony. Diego and Bill slashed at the water with the bones, working to steer the raft into the middle of the river, where their line of vision would be least obstructed by dangling trees and the mist that stuck to the bank. After a period of hectic paddling and a few spins, they found themselves gliding swiftly down the river.

  “Not bad, eh?” said Diego, one paw on the rudder.

  As if on cue, a warm, soothing wind picked up, and the clouds began to break apart.

  “Best part is, we’ll get a jump on those humans,” said Bill, giddy with excitement. “They’ll never expect us coming from the river.”

  “A slight advantage, perhaps,” said Felix, “but I’d argue the humans still have the upper hand.”

  “I’ll take what I can get,” Diego said.

  “Uh, Omar?” Luke said. “Are you okay?”

  Omar was rigid, his cheeks puffy, his eyes fixed on a single, distant point.

  “You’re looking a little green, buddy,” Bill said.

  “I’m fine,” croaked Omar.

  Felix rustled through his bindle and handed Omar a green plant. “Here, chew on this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just a little sprig of something,” Felix said. “It’ll ease the sickness.”

  Omar gobbled it up, and soon a deep, fragrant belch shot out of his mouth.

  “Gross,” said Luke.

  “Thanks, Felix,” Omar said. His color had improved, though it was clear he was embarrassed. “I feel much better.”

  Felix patted Omar’s shoulder and closed his bindle.

  “What other miracle cures you got in there, Felix?” asked Diego.

  “That depends,” said Felix. “What do you need?”

  “Not sure—how about one of them trippy frogs?”

  As Felix and Diego shared a laugh, Bill t
urned to Luke. “Keep your eyes open for anything you might recognize from your last trip.”

  “Well, you can almost make out the savanna,” said Luke, pointing to the left bank.

  The mist over there was looking a little thin and dusty, Bill thought.

  “How big would you say the savanna is?” asked Bill.

  “Gotta be several klicks,” Diego said. “But then, can’t say I’ve ever crossed it, only kicked around its borders. Not sure I’ve met anyone who has, until Luke here.”

  “Wow,” said Bill, jealous that the reverence in Diego’s tone was directed at Luke instead of him. “You must’ve been flying high on adrenaline.”

  “It’s all a blur,” Luke said dreamily.

  “Still mighty impressive,” Bill said.

  “Um, guys, what’s that?” asked Omar. He was pointing to the water, and that queasy shade of green was creeping back into his face.

  Bill bounced over to the starboard edge to take a closer look.

  “Easy,” said Diego, as the raft pitched.

  Bill could make out the vague shape of something just beneath the surface. He lowered his head and peered closer. Just then, a black coil lashed out of the water and zapped Bill’s snout.

  “Ahh!” cried Bill. “It bit my face! It bit my face!”

  Omar laughed. “Ha ha. No it didn’t.”

  “It’s an eel,” said Felix. “They’re electrified.”

  “Get away from the water!” growled Diego.

  Omar and Bill inched back to the middle. Bill rubbed his snout.

  “This isn’t a game, mates,” Diego continued. “And the eels aren’t the only ones to watch out for. Some of these fishies swimming along here will rip your flesh straight off your bones before you even know what hit ya.”

  To illustrate his point, he jabbed the hippo rib in their direction.

  “Welcome to the river, boys,” said Felix. “It’s a long way from Cloud Kingdom, I know, but if you pay attention you’ll find there’s logic and order at work here as well.”

  “Are there really fish that can . . . do what he said?” Omar asked.