Arlo Finch in the Valley of Fire

by John August

  “What do you mean?” asked Connor.

  Indra traded a look with Arlo. “In the hut, we saw the hag talking with someone. Magically—they weren’t there in person. But there’s definitely someone else involved. It’s safe to assume they’re on their way.”

  “Then we have to go,” said Connor. “We’ll climb to the top of the valley and scout it out. Pick a direction and go.”

  “What about the sled?” asked Wu.

  “We leave it here. Carry what we can.”

  Wu was aghast. “We’re not giving up Mr. Henhao! He’s part of the patrol.”

  Jonas rolled his eyes. “It’s a busted chair and old skis. Get over it.”

  “We came in second!” shouted Wu. “That’s really good.”

  “At least we made something, Jonas,” said Indra. “What have you two ever done, other than complain and get rescued?”

  Connor got between them. “Enough! All of you.”

  The patrol went silent. Julie was now freely crying. She shrugged off her brother’s attempt to comfort her. “It’s hopeless,” she said, shaking her head. “We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”

  “No, we’re not,” said Arlo. “I can get us home.”

  * * *

  While his friends were arguing, Arlo had pulled out his compass. The needle was still spinning in a slow circle. But as he turned, he felt something: the slightest buzz. It wasn’t north. It was something else altogether.

  Back when he was practicing on his driveway, he had learned to ignore the phantom vibrations. Now he realized they were indicating something real: paths into the Long Woods.

  Here, standing in the Woods, the compass was showing him the way back out.

  “How sure are you?” asked Connor. “On a scale of one to ten.”

  Arlo was honest. “Maybe a six or a seven. I know something is there, but I can’t be sure.”

  “For all we know, it’s pointing him deeper into the Woods,” said Jonas. “If he’s wrong, we’re worse off than before.”

  “‘Worse’ is probably on its way right now,” said Indra. “We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

  Wu stepped forward. “Why are we even discussing this? Look what Arlo did with the rope! Look what he did with the snaplight! None of us could do that. Not me, not you, not Connor. Even Christian couldn’t do that. I bet those firecraefters at the bonfire last night, they couldn’t do that. No one can do what Arlo can do. So if he says he thinks he can get us out of here, guess what? I believe him. I don’t need to know why or how. I just need to know which direction to pull the sled, because he’s going to get us home, simple as that.”

  Indra turned to Arlo. So did Connor. Even the twins faced him. The argument was over.

  Wu gestured at Arlo’s compass. “Which way are we headed?”

  Arlo pointed. It wasn’t the same direction they’d come from, but it was where he felt the vibration.

  “Okay! Let’s go.” Wu took his jacket off the sled, putting it on and zipping it up. One by one, the rest of the patrol grabbed their coats. Then, on a count of three, they picked up the sled, carrying it to the nearest snow.

  Wrapping the towrope around his glove, Arlo took one last look back at the valley and the burning tree. How long had he been here? An hour? Two? He felt like there was so much more to explore. But it was time to go home.

  Once they started moving, they were quickly back in their rhythm. Arlo could hear skis and boots on the snow.

  In the normal world, Rangers used their compasses to pick a distant landmark—a specific tree, a mountaintop, a boulder—and head towards it in a straight line. While you were walking, the compass could go back in your pocket. But in the Long Woods, that didn’t work. Here, there were no straight lines. The paths were always twisting. Every few steps, Arlo could feel the vibration shifting. It could be as small a change as passing a fallen log on the right or the left.

  Pick wrong, and you’ve lost the trail. There was no going back.

  At the front of the rope, Arlo couldn’t see the others’ faces, but he was sure they were skeptical of his route. He would be, too. At one point, they made a hard right followed by a hard left in what looked to be an ordinary stretch of trees. But as they came over a small rise, they found the path had taken them somewhere remarkable.

  A bridge of solid ice spanned a fast-moving river. It looked just wide enough for the sled, no margin of error. Falling in was not an option: just to the left, the water plunged off a massive cliff. You could see for miles—hundreds of miles, maybe—to a spot where the purple sky met the horizon in a pink-orange glow.

  All around them, icicles clung to the trees, sparkling in the light. Julie held up her hands like a frame. “I wish I had my camera.”

  “I’m sure cameras don’t work here,” said Connor. “Otherwise, you’d see photos from the Long Woods all the time.”

  Indra agreed. “It’s like the Wonder times ten.”

  Jonas pointed out the obvious: “We definitely didn’t cross this bridge before.”

  “I know,” said Arlo. “But this is the way back. I can feel it.”

  Wu picked up the towrope. “Good enough for me. Nobody fall in.”

  For a bridge made of solid ice, it was less slippery than Arlo had feared. The frozen spray from the river offered some traction under their boots. And they weren’t the first to cross it that day. Indra spotted tracks in the frost. “A hexlynx,” she said. “See how it has six legs? I bet it’s hiding in the trees right now, watching us.”

  After one heart-stopping moment where the sled drifted dangerously close to the edge, they made it across safely. Arlo led them over the next rise. A minute later, he stopped, confused.

  “Which way?” asked Connor.

  “I don’t know. It’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, ‘gone’?” asked Jonas. “Are we lost?”

  “I don’t know! It feels different.”

  Indra pulled out her own compass. “It’s not spinning anymore! I don’t think we’re in the Long Woods.”

  Connor pulled out his compass to check.

  Arlo quickly raced back the way they’d come. As he came to the top of the small rise, he saw nothing but ordinary trees. The river and the ice bridge were gone. “She’s right!” he yelled. “We’re back!”

  “But where are we, exactly?” asked Jonas.

  “I don’t want to be in Canada,” said Julie.

  Wu had wandered away from the sled, looking for something in the trees. Suddenly, his eyes went wide. “Guys! Guys! Come here!” As they approached, he explained. “This is where we saw the bear. Remember, I was taking a leak? This is the tree I was peeing on.”

  “How do you know?” asked Indra.

  “Because I always write my initials.” He pointed down, where HW was marked in yellow snow. “Henry Wu.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she said, hugging him.

  Connor checked his watch. “It’s not even four o’clock yet. We can still finish.”

  The six members of Blue Patrol looked at one another for a long moment. After surviving the bear, the hag and the Long Woods, they had completely forgotten about the Alpine Derby.

  They were exhausted. They needed to eat and sleep. This was no time for pointless pride.

  Julie spoke first. “Let’s do it. Let’s beat Red.”

  31

  THE FINISH LINE

  IT WAS GETTING DARK. The shadows on the snow had faded, leaving only an indistinct gray. A cold wind was rising. Arlo zipped his parka up to his chin. The metal teeth bit into his skin a bit, but he didn’t mind. The irritation distracted him from his aching feet and sticky eyes, still stinging from the smoke in the valley.

  Even without the compass, he was certain they were headed in the right direction. He could see dozens of ski tracks in the snow. But the road seemed endless.

  They could hear it before they could see it. Just around the bend, a hundred Rangers and adults were cheering and banging drums. They were
almost there.

  “Let’s run the last part,” said Connor. Everyone agreed.

  Summoning their last reserves of energy, the Rangers of Blue Patrol came around the final turn of the forty-ninth annual Alpine Derby in a full sprint.

  Twenty-eight of the thirty patrols had already finished. They were mingling around the bonfire and drinking hot chocolate. A girl from Green was the first to spot Blue Patrol emerging from the forest. She rallied a bunch of Rangers to cheer for them. It felt a bit like pity.

  A few of the Red Patrol members looked over. They stayed quiet.

  The finish line was a bright red board in the snow. Blue Patrol didn’t stop running until the sled was fully across it.

  They were sweaty, cold and beyond exhausted. Arlo wanted to fall asleep in a hot bath. But there was one more thing to do.

  Connor waved them together into a huddle. They leaned in, putting their heads together. “Last time,” he said. “Everything we’ve got.”

  They lined up. Arlo was back on the end, the smallest Ranger. Voices hoarse, they yelled:

  Clap your hands!

  Stomp your feet!

  Blue Patrol just can’t be beat!

  Faster than a snowshoe hare,

  Stronger than a grizzly bear.

  Both tomorrow and today,

  Blue Patrol will lead the way!

  * * *

  As they were drinking their second cups of hot chocolate, Indra came over to Arlo and Connor. “I found this in the hut. Didn’t want the others to know.”

  She handed Connor a tarnished silver necklace. A tiny pendant had the initials KC.

  Connor recognized it. “It was Katie’s. I don’t remember her wearing it, but it was in all the missing persons bulletins. Her grandfather gave it to her.” He tried to hand it back.

  “No. You should have it.”

  Connor shrugged. “She should have it. I’ll give it to her parents.” He tucked it into his jacket pocket. “But I don’t know if she’ll take it. She doesn’t like anyone calling her Katie. She says that was never her real name.”

  Arlo had to keep reminding himself that to Connor, his cousin wasn’t missing. She was just living abroad in another country that happened to be another world. Connor was used to it. He had been keeping the secret so long that it no longer felt like a secret.

  They looked over as the last patrol crossed the finish line. It was time for the results. As all the Rangers gathered near the bonfire, they met up with Wu, Julie and Jonas.

  “I’ve been asking around, and I think there’s a chance we came in third,” said Wu. “Not third in the company, but third out of everyone.”

  Arlo was confused. “How is that possible? We were the next to last patrol to finish.”

  “You get four points just for crossing the finish line,” said Indra, counting on her fingers. “Plus three points for visiting the stations in order, which we did. That’s seven out of ten points. The first team to cross could have only gotten three more than us.”

  “Which they didn’t,” said Wu. “Red was the first across, but they went to Signaling before Knots, so they lost those three points. And I hear they messed up in Knots. They did a sheet bend instead of a sheepshank.”

  “Man, I would love to beat them,” said Jonas.

  Julie shook her head. “I just want to place. After everything we went through today, I just want to be in the top three.”

  “It’s going to come down to spirit,” said Indra. “We know we have eighty-one points. Last year, third place was ninety. If we get nine out of ten, we could do it.”

  The bearded Warden climbed up on a stepladder. In daylight, Arlo could see tattoos on his neck, mostly hidden by his giant beard. The crowd quieted. The man called out, “Rangers! May your path be safe!”

  In unison, everyone responded, “May your aim be true!”

  “Forty-eight years ago, the first Rangers raced these mountains. They called it the Alpine Derby. It was not a race of miles and minutes, but of will and conviction, meant to test the ideals of the Ranger’s Vow: loyalty, bravery, kindness and truth. For while the obstacles are ever-changing, the virtues with which we confront them are eternal.”

  Arlo thought back to the valley, and their battle with the hag. It wasn’t knaughts and snaplights that had saved their lives. It was working together. None of them were perfectly loyal, brave, kind or true—but they didn’t need to be. Between the six members of Blue Patrol, there was enough loyalty, bravery, kindness and truth to go around.

  The Warden looked down to his clipboard. “We had thirty patrols racing this year. Congratulations to everyone who finished. It’s now time to call out the top three patrols for flags.”

  Indra grabbed Arlo’s and Wu’s hands. This was it. If they were getting any award, this was their shot. Arlo held his breath.

  “Finishing third, with ninety points, is Moose Patrol of Cheyenne Company.”

  A cheer went up. Arlo looked over as a group of Wyoming Rangers made their way up to the ladder. One of the boys was blind and held his friend’s sleeve as they walked. The Warden handed them a black flag embroidered with copper thread. They held it high and yelled their patrol cheer.

  Arlo couldn’t even process the words. He sank deep into himself, disappointed in ways that surprised him. Just a few minutes earlier, he hadn’t considered the possibility of getting third place. Now that it was gone, the loss stung.

  He silently vowed to never want anything again. To never be overly hopeful. It hurt too much.

  Arlo accidentally crossed gazes with Russell Stokes. Russell traced a fake tear down his cheek, mouthing boo-hoo.

  Wu caught the exchange. “Ignore him. He’s a jerk.”

  Arlo shook it off. It was stupid to be upset about losing a third-place flag after nearly being killed.

  As Moose Patrol stepped to the side, the Warden climbed the ladder again. “In second place, with ninety-one points, is Blue Patrol of Pine Mountain Company.”

  Arlo didn’t hear it right. He assumed the Warden had said “Green Patrol” or “Red Patrol.” But then he saw Indra and Wu jumping up and down. Connor was stunned, wide-eyed. Jonas and Julie were screaming.

  “We must have gotten a perfect ten in spirit,” said Indra. “That never happens.”

  Connor led them through the crowd. The Warden descended the ladder, handing them a black flag with the Alpine Derby sigil stitched in silver. Connor passed it down the line. It was just cloth and thread, but it seemed like a priceless artifact.

  Lining up, they performed their patrol yell again. This time, they were out of sync. Wu stomped when he should have clapped. Arlo said “grizzly bear” in place of “snowshoe hare.” But it didn’t matter. They had their second-place flag.

  The patrol gathered next to the Wyoming Mooses. It was time to announce the winner.

  Arlo realized then it was going to be Red Patrol. They had beaten the field in the initial race. They were strong at Rescue, and had no doubt done well at Teamwork. He prepared himself to clap and cheer for them when the Warden called their name.

  “In first place, with ninety-three points, the winner of the forty-ninth annual Alpine Derby: Green Patrol of Pine Mountain Company.”

  Wu gasped. Connor looked to Indra, who quickly did the math. “They must have gotten perfect scores at every station, plus spirit.” Arlo took off his gloves to applaud louder as Green Patrol made their way to the ladder to accept their first-place flag. It was larger than the others, with the sigil embroidered in gold thread.

  Green Patrol’s cheer was much more sophisticated, with overlapping sections performed in perfect syncopation. It had no doubt taken months to learn. When it was finished, all the Rangers cheered again.

  Arlo spotted Russell Stokes clapping halfheartedly and immediately understood why Red Patrol hadn’t placed in the top three.

  Spirit wasn’t just cheering for yourself. It was rooting for Good.

  32

  COURT OF HONOR

  ARLO�
�S DAD WANTED MACARONI AND CHEESE. “Just push the phone down into it. I’ll figure out a way to eat it.”

  Jaycee smiled. “You’re disgusting.” They were video-chatting with him on her phone. For a change, the meal times were reversed. It was dinner in Colorado, but breakfast in China.

  “Arlo, I’m counting on you. The mac and cheese here is just awful. It’s like someone saw a picture of it and didn’t know what it was supposed to taste like. I’m serious. The box tastes better than what’s inside.”

  Arlo took the phone. He held it steady while shoveling a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth, making a big show of chewing it.

  “You’re torturing me. Don’t you dare tell me it’s delicious.”

  “It’s so good. So cheesy.”

  His dad pretended to stab himself with his chopsticks.

  They were eating at a long folding table in the basement of the church. It was the Ranger company’s twice-yearly potluck dinner, a term Arlo learned meant “mostly casseroles and salad.”

  His mom had made baked ziti, as had four other families. Arlo tried a spoonful of each. He honestly couldn’t tell them apart, even though his mom had used government cheese from the food assistance program. “Please stop calling it government cheese,” she said. “It’s normal cheese. They just give it to families who need a little extra help.”

  Between waitressing at the diner and bookkeeping for the repair shop, his mom was bringing in enough money to cover most of their expenses. But there were always surprises. One morning, they woke up to find the furnace had died and the pipes had frozen. For the next few days, Arlo had melted snow for drinking water and slept in his sleeping bag on top of his bed. It was like camping indoors.

  Mitch the mechanic had helped get everything fixed. He showed Arlo where the shutoff valves were, and how to check the pipes for leaks. “It can be a small thing, just the tiniest hole. But with too much pressure, it breaks wide open.” Mitch had gone to visit his daughter in New Mexico for the weekend. Arlo wondered if his mom would have invited him tonight had he been in town.