Earning My Spots

by Eastburn, Mark;

  Most of the animals nodded in understanding. It appeared I was getting through. They kept staring at me, expecting me to say more, except I’d run out of words.

  After a few seconds of reflection, I finally added, “We could probably get along better, too—don’t you think? The more we fight other shape shifters, the more trouble we cause for ourselves.” Of course, I wasn’t sure if I could extend a hand of friendship to the lions—that might be too far of a stretch considering our brutal past. But maybe we could at least leave each other alone.

  Once I’d finished, my father pushed his body next to mine. Mom came on the other side, and they both squeezed me tight. Lauren didn’t say anything, but at least she let me have my moment. And she may have even given me a slight smile from the corner of her mouth.

  Hey, at least it was a start.

  THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED WERE MOSTLY SPENT TRYING TO stop all the animals who’d gathered in the jungle from thinking of me as their leader. That was one responsibility I knew I couldn’t handle and one that I definitely didn’t want. One time, I won a goldfish at a fair in John’s Gore, and it died after two weeks because I forgot to feed it. Leading a worldwide campaign to improve relations with the no-tails was definitely a lot more responsibility than that. And I was just a kid, after all.

  Queen Ayaba offered to step in and develop some concrete plans, as did Curupira. It turned out that the two of them had a lot in common and would make perfect leaders for this new campaign.

  “I was born from African spirits who came to Brazil and mixed with the natives,” Curupira told Queen Ayaba and me one afternoon. We were lounging on the plateau and had a great view of the Amazon rain forest below. Even the river was in sight. Everything was damp and turning back to green, since the botos could send in their storms once more.

  Queen Ayaba asked, “And what do you know about this Staff God—the one who’s magic gave Anca his power?”

  “He lived on the other side of the mountains,” said Curupira. “That is all I know.”

  “Through many cultures, shape shifters took the role of gods,” said one of the weretigers who was lounging by our side. He was really well educated—probably a college professor when in human form.

  “Even though we weren’t much better than the no-tails,” said a raven who’d joined the conversation.

  “No,” said the queen, “those with magic often abuse it.”

  “Which means we need to remove the tools that make those abuses possible,” said Curupira. “That staff is too dangerous to remain in one piece.” He turned and took Anca’s golden scepter, spread it between his hands, placed a backward foot in the middle, and snapped it in two. Part of the staff he tossed to Thiago, who was topside and in human form. “Please guard this in El Encante.”

  “Will do,” Thiago answered with a toothy smile.

  Handing the other end of Anca’s staff to Queen Ayaba with a gracious bow, he said, “Please take this back to Louisiana and guard it from all evil.”

  The queen nodded and allowed her glazed eyes to pass over us. Just about every shape shifter I’d ever known was spread out on the grassy plain where King Kunturi once ruled. The condor had retired to a little shack at the edge of a cliff and promised not to make any more trouble. With that agreement, Queen Ayaba gave him enough magic to transform to and from a condor again, but nothing more than that. His purple glow was gone for good.

  “What else will we take back to Louisiana?” asked the queen.

  Tossing a determined glance toward my parents, I said, “I’m not going back to Vermont—that’s for sure. Louisiana is the right place for me. Maybe we all can live there.”

  Queen Ayaba declared with a smile, “Your entire family will be welcomed into our clan.”

  Neither my father nor my mother objected, much to my relief. In fact, they nodded in agreement. Lauren nodded, too. And to think that all I had to do was travel five thousand miles and stop a global war in order to get some respect from my sister.

  “That’s fine by me,” said Joe Loup, who was lounging close by. “The farther away you stay from us, the better.”

  When I scowled at him, Joe changed his tune. “I mean … we don’t want competition from bigger and tougher predators,” he said nervously. “You know, predators like you.”

  I smiled, triumphant, and decided to let it rest. The wolves didn’t want to mess with me. Especially Will Andris—his tail tucked between his legs every time I came near now.

  I glanced over at Manny and asked, “How about you? Where are you going to go?”

  Manny looked pensive for a moment, then said, “This is where I’m supposed to stay, I think. It’s the only unspoiled jaguar habitat left in the world. Maybe that’s why I came on this quest, to find a safe refuge.” He drew in a deep breath and added, “That’s what my mom told me in a dream a few nights ago, anyway.”

  “Then that is what you must do,” said Queen Ayaba.

  “Oh,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment, even though I should’ve seen that coming. What would Manny do back in Louisiana? He’d have a hard time living up there, though I was sad that I’d be losing my first friend.

  “I’m staying, too,” said Balam. “It’s time I retired. City life is too rough, even for me.”

  I bit my lip and forced myself to understand. Jaguars belonged in the forest, no doubt, and at least Manny would have some company and a familiar face if he needed help.

  Manny continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Sam. You’re cool and everything, but hyenas and jaguars live in different environments, you know?”

  “I will watch over them,” assured Curupira.

  That made me feel a little better. A smile played at my lips. Manny had said I was cool. Nobody had ever said that before.

  “Well, uh, maybe we can get together sometime, huh?” I said. “Whenever the rain forest gets boring.”

  With a broad, jaguar smile that exposed his canine teeth, Manny said, “I’d like that.”

  “I can be your messenger,” Rosa offered. “The flying, it isn’t so hard.”

  “Wow,” I said, “that would be great.” An added bonus was that I’d keep seeing Rosa from time to time, which was something I really wanted. Because while I still hoped to see Manny and all, I kind of wanted to see Rosa more. Was it because she was a girl? I really didn’t know. There was a different kind of feeling inside of me whenever she was near.

  Should I say something to her? I wondered. Let her know how I feel? After all, I’d escaped death too many times to count on this journey and had faced the toughest predators in the world.

  But tell a girl how I really felt about her?

  Nah, that was too dangerous, even for me.

  A NOTE ON NAMES

  Over the course of this story, we learn that Sam’s last name means “Son of the Bouda,” which is a combination of the words buda (or bouda), a term from Ethiopian tradition for the power to transform into a hyena; and the suffix –vich, which is Russian for “son of.” Those readers who know French might also have noticed that Joe Loup’s last name comes from the French word for wolf, which is loup, and for anybody with an interest in other languages and culture, here is a list of additional character names and their origins:

  Anca: This word means “eagle” in the Quechua language, which was commonly spoken among inhabitants of the mighty Inca Empire, and it is still spoken by eight million of their descendants today. At one point in this story, the harpies refer to Anca as “Malku Anca,” and the word malku comes from the word for “king” in the Aymara language of Bolivia, Chile, and Peru.

  Andris: Will’s last name comes from the Greek andris, which means “who is like a man.” Since Will is a werewolf, it makes sense that he would be “like a man” part of the time, or “like a boy,” at least!

  Ayaba: This is the word for “queen” from the Yoruba language of West Africa. This means that Queen Ayaba’s name would actually be “Queen Queen.” Yoruba culture is important to a variety of traditi
onal religions that came from Africa to the Americas, like Santería, Umbanda, and Vodou (voodoo).

  Balam: This name originates from the Maya word b’alam, which means “jaguar.” Several different Mayan languages are spoken, even today, but this word appears to be common in many of them. Since jaguars are among the world’s most powerful predators, many Mayan kings in Mexico and Central America took the title of B’alam to symbolize their strength.

  Edi: The word edi means hyena in Igbo, a language that is spoken in Nigeria and Equatorial Guinea. Many Igbo words also entered languages in North and South America when African slaves were brought to the New World.

  Fowrou: As you might guess, fowrou means hyena in another part of Africa—in this case, in Cameroon. This is also the same region where the African great-grandfather of the Russian poet, Alexander Pushkin, was probably born.

  Kunturi: This name comes from the Aymara word kunturi, which means “condor.” The condor was (and is) important to many native groups in South America, and this majestic bird has been chosen as the national symbol in Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru. A mountain in western Peru also bears this name.

  Rosalinda Lora Juárez de la Cruz: Rosa’s first name means “pretty rose,” while her second name is the female version of loro, which is the Spanish word for “parrot.” Juárez was the last name of one of Mexico’s most celebrated presidents, Benito Juárez, while de la Cruz is derived from the name of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, a famous Mexican writer and thinker from colonial times who lived her life as a nun.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are three people who deserve my eternal gratitude for bringing this book to life: my agent, Liza Fleissig of the Liza Royce Agency (LRA); Kylie Brien, the first person at Sky Pony Press to read the original manuscript; and my editor, Julie Matysik. Only through their hard work and support was I able to craft Earning My Spots into the book you now hold—never underestimate the power of excellent representation and skilled editing!

  In addition, I would like to recognize the New Jersey Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (NJ SCBWI) for running the amazing workshops and conferences that helped me learn what book writing was all about. Laurie Wallmark and Kathy Temean oversaw the organization in my early days, and I have to thank them for bringing together such a wonderfully supportive group of people in every critique group that I attended.

  As surely happens with many novels, the very first readers were family members, and my daughter, Sharon; wife, Yamilka; and mother, Sharon (not a typo—my daughter is named after my mom) all deserve credit for encouraging me to continue with this book. My father, George, who has been writing for as long as I can remember, has also been an inspiration, and I also owe thanks to my son, Logan, who read a couple of my previous, unpublished novels and accepted the excuse “I’m writing” whenever I couldn’t get something else done. Living with a writer can never be easy, as everyone in my family must know. They’ve also put up with all the pets that I’ve brought home, due to my endless fascination with other living things.

  My interest in the natural world was spawned by Sir David Attenborough, and I owe him many thanks for all the books and wildlife series, along with Marty Stouffer and his Wild America programs. I would also like to acknowledge Alan Rabinowitz, CEO of Panthera, for his inspiring story and efforts to save big cats, along with many others who have strived to preserve room for large predators in our modern world.

  One last whoop goes to hyena researchers everywhere, and it is my hope that we may all help transform public opinion on these strong, brave, and smart creatures!