“And what are the contents?” The woman pulled out a form with tiny lettering on it.
Obviously they couldn’t tell her the box contained a talking fruit bat!
“Just some fruit…” Daniel said, thinking fast. “And a few other things,” he added, for the sake of honesty.
“Sorry.” The postal worker pushed the box back toward them. “You can’t mail fruit internationally. All kinds of pests can travel that way.”
“But—” Daniel started to argue.
The postal worker glanced at the long lineup behind them.
Talia calmly picked up their package. “Come on,” she said.
* * *
Back in Daniel’s room, Talia pulled off the packing tape. They could hear the flapping of Megabat’s wings grow louder. The second the box opened, he burst forth, singing out, “Megabat is returned! Bat brothers and sisters! Megabat is back in Papaya—” He stopped and looked around. “Megabat is not returned to Papaya Premium?” he asked. He came to roost on the edge of the box, tucked his wings around himself and peered up, looking very small indeed.
Daniel crouched down. “Sorry, Megabat. We can’t mail you home.” A large tear gathered in one corner of Megabat’s eye, slid down his furry face and hit the floor with a splash. Daniel felt like he might cry too.
“It’s okay, Megabat,” Talia said softly. “We’ll find another way. Actually, it’s a lucky thing, because I just realized: We’ve only had time to watch the first Star Wars movie. Did you know there are more?”
Another tear was just starting to roll out of Megabat’s eye, but at Talia’s words, he blinked hopefully. “Mores Star Wars?”
“Well, yeah.” Daniel followed Talia’s lead. “We watched A New Hope, twice…but you haven’t even met the Ewoks yet.”
So they spent the afternoon watching Hans Solo, Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia fight the evil galactic empire—but the whole time, they were wondering—was there really another way to get Megabat home?
THE ESCAPE
By that night, Daniel and Talia were no closer to coming up with a plan, and things were looking more desperate—not to mention drippy. Star Wars Episodes V and VI kept Megabat busy all afternoon, but as soon as it got dark he hung upside down from the rafter and rocked back and forth, crying big, splashy tears.
Daniel dumped out a bin of stuffed animals and placed the empty container under Megabat, then he crawled into bed, feeling almost as sad.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
It took Daniel hours to get to sleep, and just after he finally had—“Daniel?”
Both his parents were standing at the top of the stairs, squinting into the darkness.
“Mmhmm?” he said blearily.
“I’m turning on the light, okay?” said Daniel’s dad.
Daniel blinked, then he gasped. His parents were standing directly underneath Megabat’s perch, staring up into the rafters.
“Has the roof been leaking for a while?” his mom asked, looking down at the stuffed animal bucket, which Daniel saw was overflowing with bat tears.
Daniel nodded.
“It’s good you put a bucket there, but, Daniel, you should have come down to tell us. It’s coming right through the floor,” his mom said.
From where Daniel was sitting in bed, he could just make out the sheen of Megabat’s eyes. When his parents weren’t looking, he raised one finger to his lips. “Shhhhhh,” he said.
“Yours said what?” came a voice.
“What was that?” Daniel’s mom asked.
“Um. Oh.” Daniel reached into the big pile of stuffed animals on the floor and pulled out a walrus. “That was Wally the Talking Walrus. It’s got batteries.”
“It does?” his mother asked. She gave her head a little shake. “Anyway. I’ll get the mop,” she said, then she turned to his dad. “Could you empty this bucket?”
“Megabat!” Daniel whispered furiously, as soon as his parents had left. “Come here this second.”
“Shouty, shouty,” Megabat complained, but he came to roost on Daniel’s outstretched finger all the same.
“You need to hide,” Daniel said. “My parents will be back any minute.” Then he did the only thing he could think of that was guaranteed to keep Megabat silent and out of sight. He opened one of his windows and placed him on the outer ledge. “Wait there,” he said, sliding the window shut.
Between mopping the puddle, cleaning up what had spilled down the stairs and replacing the container with a bigger bucket, half an hour passed before Daniel’s family was ready to go back to bed.
As soon as his parents left, Daniel ran to the window and opened it. “They’re gone,” he whispered. “You can come back in.”
But there was no answer—because there was no Megabat, just the big, dark night sky with the thinnest sliver of moon.
* * *
For more than an hour, Daniel sat by the window whispering Megabat’s name into the darkness, but the bat didn’t return. First thing the next morning, he asked his mom if he could go to Talia’s house. “Of course,” she answered, grinning into her toast.
“Megabat’s lost,” Daniel blurted the second Talia opened the door.
He told her how the bat had run away.
“He’s a wild animal,” Talia said. “It’s normal that he’d want to explore.”
“I guess,” Daniel agreed. “But we need to find him. He doesn’t know this country. He could get lost or hurt.”
They started their search for Megabat in Daniel’s backyard and covered the whole street, but there was no sign of their friend. They were just on their way home for lunch when they heard the commotion.
“You little monster!” It was Jamie, shouting.
“Stay back! Or mine will poke yours to the death!”
In less than a heartbeat, Daniel and Talia were running down the path and into Talia’s yard. They found Jamie, sprawled on the grass in front of his homemade pigeon trap, rubbing at his eye…and Megabat, behind the bars. His fur was ruffled and he was ferociously wielding his juice-box-straw lightsaber.
BIRDGIRL
“You almost stabbed me in the eye, you dumb bat!” Jamie shouted.
“Let that be a warning to yours!” Megabat bellowed from inside the pigeon trap.
“Stop!” Daniel yelled, putting himself between Jamie and Megabat. “Don’t hurt my bat.”
“That’s your pet bat?” Jamie said.
“He’s not a pet. He’s called Megabat,” Talia said. “And he’s our friend.”
“I’m telling Mom you’ve been playing with a talking bat!” Jamie said. “I bet she’ll take it to the humane society and make you get a rabies shot.”
“Don’t you dare tell!” Talia said. “Or else.”
“Or else what?” her brother taunted. “You’ll sic your bat on me?”
Inside the cage Megabat was striking his most threatening pose. His tiny snout was twisted into the cutest little sneer.
Daniel bent down and reached his fingers through the bars. That was when he noticed three pigeons huddled at the back of the cage.
“Okay, look,” Talia said. “Promise not to tell and I’ll be your servant for a week.” Jamie looked unimpressed. “Fine, a month.”
“What does that include?” Jamie asked.
“The usual. Fetching your things, doing your bidding, picking up your dirty socks. But, in exchange, you don’t say a word to Mom and the bat goes free.”
“The pigeons too,” Daniel added.
Jamie ran his tongue over his teeth while he considered the offer. “Fine.”
Talia opened the latch and Megabat hopped into her hand.
Meanwhile, the three pigeons stepped out, bobbing their heads nervously. Jamie stomped and two of them flew off, but the third—with an all-white head and brown wings—strutted over and pecked at the strap of his sandal.
“Get lost!” Jamie kicked at it, but the pigeon didn’t go.
“Why isn’t it flying away?” Talia a
sked Jamie. “Did you hurt it?”
The pigeon didn’t look hurt. It started preening its feathers.
“Birdgirl, yours is free now,” Megabat said to the pigeon.
“Birdgirl?” Daniel said.
“Yes. This is being Birdgirl.”
Megabat sighed. “Ours met in yonder leafy tree,” he explained. “Megabat offered Birdgirl a seed, which hers gobbled most hungrily and, sincely, Birdgirl has not left Megabat’s side.”
“Coo-woo.” The pigeon tilted her head and looked at Megabat with obvious adoration.
“Servant!” Jamie barked. “Fetch me a ginger ale. And make it cold. Also, chips and salsa, but not the spicy kind.”
“Yes, Master,” Talia answered miserably.
Jamie raised his eyebrows and cupped one hand around his ear like maybe he’d misheard.
“I mean, yes Grand Master Jamie of the Universe. Come help me,” she said to Daniel. “And put Megabat in your pocket. I don’t trust my brother with him for a second.”
In the kitchen, Patricia was at the table drinking coffee with a woman wearing purple dangly earrings.
“Oh, hi, Daniel.” She set her cup down. “This is Catherine. She just stopped by to chat before she leaves on vacation.”
Talia waved at her mom’s friend, then she opened the fridge and grabbed a ginger ale for Jamie—plus a juice box for Megabat.
“I’m going to Borneo for a month to a drumming circle retreat,” Catherine explained.
Daniel and Talia glanced at each other.
“I leave tomorrow.” She jangled her earrings in excitement.
“Can you believe that?” Talia whispered, once she’d dragged Daniel into the family room. “This is our big chance to get Megabat home—and away from Jamie! All we need to do is slip him into Catherine’s purse.”
Daniel had visited his cousins in Vermont before, so he knew about airports. The security guards checked every bag by putting it through an X-ray machine. And even if Megabat did manage to slip through undetected, what if Catherine reached into her purse for a breath mint on the plane and pulled out a bat?
“Her purse is by the front door,” Talia said. “It’s now or never.”
Daniel didn’t feel good about the plan—but he knew they might not get another chance.
“What do you think, Megabat?” he asked. “Do you want to go back to the land of Papaya Premium now?”
“Undoubtedly,” Megabat said solemnly. “Megabat will go in jingle-ears’ purse. But mine will never forget yours.” At that, Megabat’s big, round eyes grew shiny.
There wasn’t time for tears. Daniel started for the hallway. But before they’d taken two steps, they heard a dull thud, followed by a scream.
“What was that?” came Talia’s mom’s voice.
“I think a pigeon just flew into your glass door,” Catherine answered.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“I’m going to shoo it away before it knocks itself out,” Catherine said. Then there was another scream.
If they’d been thinking clearly, Daniel and Talia might have seen this as the perfect opportunity to sneak Megabat into the purse, but all the commotion was upsetting—especially to Megabat.
“Birdgirl is being in trouble!”
Megabat said. He flapped toward the kitchen. By the time Daniel and Talia caught up, he was swooping around a pendant light. He narrowly avoided Catherine, who was waving a broom around, and landed on top of the kitchen cabinets where Birdgirl was huddled.
Megabat hopped onto the pigeon’s back and held on tight. She was so upset by all the shouting and broom waving that she didn’t know the way out, but Megabat pointed calmly with one wingtip. Then Birdgirl, piggybacking Megabat, took off and sailed right through the open screen door.
The kitchen fell silent for a moment. “Did that really just happen?”
Catherine asked Patricia. They both burst out laughing. “You always say your house feels like a zoo, but this is too much.”
“Quick. Close the door,” Patricia said. “Before they come back.”
Talia closed it, then she looked at Daniel and sighed. He sighed back.
The purse plan hadn’t been perfect, but it had been their best bet—and the pigeon had ruined everything. What were they supposed to do now?
TRAVELLING BAT
After lunch, Daniel found the bat hanging upside down from his usual place in the attic. But he wasn’t alone.
“Coo woo. Coo wooooooo.”
“You!” he shouted at Birdgirl. “Get lost!” Birdgirl edged closer to Megabat.
“You ruined everything.” Daniel grabbed a comic book off his shelf and waved it at her. The pigeon flew around the room, bumping into a lamp and knocking a pile of books off the bedside table. Finally, she found her way out the window.
“Shoo!” Daniel said, shutting it. But Birdgirl stayed right outside, looking in.
Daniel flopped down on his bed and banged his head on the sloped attic wall. “I hate this room!” he yelled in frustration. “I hate this house! I hate this whole place! And I hate that stupid pigeon!” He felt so hopeless that he started to cry, and—drip, drip, drip—he wasn’t the only one.
Daniel held out one hand and Megabat swooped down to nestle in his palm. There was something about the small weight of him there that made Daniel feel a little less alone—and somehow that helped a lot.
They stayed there for a while, neither of them feeling much like talking. Until—thud, thud, thud—Birdgirl began launching herself at the window.
Daniel had to admit that Talia’s brother was right about one thing: pigeons were pretty dumb.
“Birdgirl is most distressed also,” Megabat said with a little sniff.
“Well, she should be. She ruined our purse plan. She is not my favorite pigeon right now.”
Daniel put Megabat back to roost on his beam then started picking up all the books Birdgirl had knocked over. There, at the top of the pile, was his Children’s Own Atlas. Birdgirl’s flapping had left it face-down on the floor, open to a page with two kinds of world maps. Daniel studied them. In the first map, Borneo was about as far away as you could get from North America. But in the second, which looked at the Earth from the other side, it was closer.
He measured both distances with his thumb. It took twelve thumbprints to go across the Atlantic to Borneo, but just seven to cross the Pacific Ocean.
Daniel knew that seven thumbs was still a long way…thousands and thousands of miles, probably…but it gave him an idea.
Megabat soon fell asleep, and Daniel went back next door. Talia’s mother said she was upstairs playing with Jamie—but playing wasn’t what Daniel would have called it.
From the top of the stairs, he could see Talia kneeling on the floor with a bucket of water and some sponges.
“Don’t forget to wash between my toes,” Jamie commanded.
“Hi,” Daniel said, coming to stand in the doorway. “Can I talk to you for a minute? It’s kind of important.”
“Can’t you see my servant’s busy?” Jamie barked.
“I’m allowed to talk to people.” Talia said.
“Fine.” Jamie pulled his feet out of the bucket and walked toward the door, leaving wet footprints behind. “Just like I’m allowed to talk to people. Like, say, Mom…and tell her about your talking bat.”
“Don’t you dare!” Talia said, but it was obvious from his smirk that he would dare. “Just let me talk to Daniel for five minutes, okay? Then I’ll organize your comic books and put your laundry away.”
“And file my toenails,” Daniel added.
“Fine,” she said, then she motioned for Daniel to follow her into her room.
“I think I have a new plan for getting Megabat home,” Daniel said once the door was closed. “He might be able to fly there himself—if we train him. He’ll need to learn geography and survival skills. Plus practice his flying. It’s a long journey.”
“Seven thousand, five hundred and seventy miles,” Talia sa
id. Daniel looked at her in surprise. “I looked it up. I’ve been thinking the same thing,” she explained. “But do you really think he can do it?”
“It might be our last hope.”
“I think you’re right,” Talia said. She sat down on the bed. “I’ll help train him as much as I can,” she said. “But I’m going to be pretty busy.”
“Talia!” Jamie shouted. “Time’s up!”
“See? I’d better go. But I can come help on the days Jamie’s at swimming lessons. And after dinner.”
“Okay,” Daniel said, even though he was feeling less certain about his plan by the second. Training a bat to fly across the world…Where was he supposed to start?
BAT SCHOOL
The next morning, Daniel and Megabat went to the basement for the first geography lesson.
Daniel started by drawing Megabat a map of Borneo on his dad’s whiteboard, but the bat just scratched his head and asked for apple juice.
They moved on to the cardinal directions. “The letters you need to know are N, E, S and W.” Daniel drew them on the whiteboard. “They stand for north, east, south and west.”
Megabat was busy licking one of his talons.
“So?” Daniel prompted. “What are the cardinal directions?”
“Yours said what?” Megabat blinked.
“Cardinal directions,” Daniel repeated.
“Cardinal is being a bird!” Megabat answered triumphantly. “Theys is most red and chirpy.”
Birdgirl, who was never far from Megabat (even though she wasn’t allowed in the house), was sitting outside the closed basement window. She bobbed her head, as if agreeing.
“Not that kind of cardinal.
Remember…north, south, east and west. Here’s a good way to remember: Never Eat Shredded Wheat.” It was a trick Daniel’s second grade teacher had taught the class. “See? The letters make the same sounds.”
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