A Game of Fox & Squirrels

by Jenn Reese

  Lucas gave Sam a puzzled look.

  “It’s okay,” Aunt Vicky said calmly. She nodded to Lucas, and he headed off. “I’m not angry, Sam. I just wanted to talk to you alone. But we’re not really alone, see? Hannah and Armen are right there, and Sally and David—Mr. Sanchez—are just through that door with your sister. So you’re safe, okay?”

  Sam’s heart beat so fast that answering was not an option. She managed to nod. Not because she believed her aunt, but because she knew she was supposed to.

  Aunt Vicky put her back against the tree trunk, not so much leaning as collapsing. “I used to collect stuffed animals,” she said slowly. “They covered my bed and filled up every corner of my room. My mother used to say I had too many, and that I was going to drown in them. But every single one of them had a name and a personality.”

  Sam said nothing. She could not move. She didn’t expect Ashander to come to her rescue, but silently she begged Maple to appear, or Birch, or even Cedar.

  “But you already knew about the stuffed animals, didn’t you?” Aunt Vicky asked. She pointed to the ring on Sam’s hand.

  “I’m sorry. I—” Sam said. “I’ll give it back.”

  “That ring used to be the crown for the Queen of Squirrels,” Aunt Vicky continued. “I could never get it to stay on her head, so she wore it on her tail.”

  That’s where Sam had found it, on the stuffed squirrel’s tail. The stone was the same blue as Maple’s dress.

  Sam twisted the ring off and held it in her shaking palm. “A crown?”

  Aunt Vicky looked at the single cloud visible in the sky and seemed to choose each of her words carefully. “I had elaborate scenarios worked out. The queen’s greatest ally was the Pirate Princess of Bundom. She was the good kind of pirate. The princess and I escaped to the high seas as often as possible.” Aunt Vicky glanced at the ring in Sam’s hand, but she didn’t take it. “Those were very hard years in my life, Sam. But when I was struggling the most, Pirate Princess saved me. She was my best friend. She was always there for me, like your books are for you.”

  Sam looked away from her aunt’s sad eyes, a thickness growing in her throat. The quest, she reminded herself, and swallowed down her guilt.

  The Pirate Princess of Bundom sounded very much like the stuffed bunny Sam had seen on her aunt’s bed. And the adventures Aunt Vicky was describing were most definitely the stuff of dreams.

  And what could be more precious or beloved, what could bring more joy or be held more dear, than the companion who helped get you through the bad times? Sam knew how she felt about her books, her stories.

  Maybe the answer to the riddle wasn’t the wedding ring at all.

  “Do you still go on adventures?” Sam asked quietly, because how could she take the rabbit if Pirate Princess was still going on missions?

  Aunt Vicky offered her a small smile. “No, we’re both retired from the adventure business. I’ve got other ways to get through tough times now. A therapist. A wife. Some really good friends.”

  Sam held out the Queen of Squirrels’ ring again. “I’m really sorry.”

  “No, you hold on to that for the queen and me,” Aunt Vicky said. “There are a lot of dangers in these woods, Sam. You might need the queen’s magic.” She put her hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently, and Sam got the impression that “the woods” didn’t just mean the nearby trees.

  “But there’s no danger from me, Sam,” her aunt continued. “There never will be.”

  Aunt Vicky clearly meant well, and Sam gave her a small nod to indicate that she’d heard. But promises were the wrapping paper around a gift, bright and appealing. You never knew what was actually inside until you opened the box.

  Sam did slip the ring back on her finger, though, and it tingled against her skin.

  Aunt Vicky wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “You know what?” she asked, suddenly standing straighter. “I think now is the perfect time to learn how to hold a chicken. Don’t you think? You’re going to love it, Sam, I promise!” And just like that, she started walking toward the coop.

  Sam’s heart gave a little leap. A little wobble. This time, Sam let it.

  Holding chickens!

  Caitlin came out of the house and called for Hannah to go in next. Aunt Vicky motioned for her, too. “Come on, girls!”

  Sam practically ran over to join them. She thought maybe Lucas would join, too, but he and his dad were leaning against the chicken fence, side by side, reading books. If there wasn’t chicken-holding on the line, Sam could see herself joining them.

  “You’re going first,” Aunt Vicky said to Caitlin.

  Caitlin raised her cast. “Uh, did you forget about this?”

  “I did not,” Aunt Vicky said with a grin. “You only need one hand to hold a chicken properly.” She bent and picked up a chicken with what seemed like no effort at all. And the chicken didn’t even seem to mind! “You need to be firm,” she said. “A chicken likes to know she’s secure. That you’ve got her. The second she doubts you, that’s when she makes a fuss and tries to get away.”

  Caitlin barely waited for Aunt Vicky to finish talking before she swooped down for her own chicken. It squawked and flapped its wings in her face.

  “Adjust your grip like this,” Aunt Vicky said, illustrating on her own chicken.

  Caitlin’s chicken calmed down almost instantly.

  “Woo!” Caitlin said. “I’m holding a chicken! Sam, you’ve got to try this.”

  Aunt Vicky chuckled. “How about it, Sam? You ready to try?”

  Sam nodded and pointed. There was one chicken she wanted to hold more than all the others.

  “Oh, you’ve taken a shine to Lady Louise!” Aunt Vicky picked her up as if she was fielding a grounder at one of Caitlin’s softball games. “Did you see what I showed your sister? Put your hand in this position, so her legs will be between your fingers.”

  Sam did as she was told, and a second later, Aunt Vicky plopped Lady Louise into her arms. A large feathered wing whacked her in the nose, so she gripped a little more firmly. “I’ve got you,” she told the bird.

  Lady Louise looked miffed, but settled. With the special grip, the chicken’s head was practically nestled against Sam’s chest, close to her underarm. She had her whole left hand free to pet Louise’s soft feathers.

  “Well done, Sam! She clearly respects you,” Aunt Vicky said. “We’re not convinced she actually likes anyone, so respect is the most you can hope for.”

  Sam stared into Lady Louise’s pitch-black pebble eyes and grinned. She couldn’t help it. There was a bird in her arms. And because of all the documentaries she’d watched with her dad, she knew that birds were actually dinosaurs, so …

  There was a dinosaur in her arms!

  Caitlin put her bird back on the ground, although it seemed more like the bird’s idea than Caitlin’s. “You’re better at this than I am,” she told Sam. “I’m going to call you Chicken Whisperer from now on.”

  As far as nicknames from Caitlin went, this was the best one ever.

  “What does that make you, then?” Sam asked, feeling emboldened.

  “I’m a chicken wrangler,” Caitlin said. She had her earbuds in her hands, but still hadn’t popped them in. “Just not a good chicken wrangler.”

  “Only way to get better is to try again,” Aunt Vicky said, and just like that, she’d picked up another chicken and handed it to Caitlin. Caitlin was forced to shove her earbuds back in her pocket. That alone was a miracle.

  Mr. Sanchez and Sally Overton-Black stayed for almost another full hour. They interviewed Aunt Vicky last, then toured the house and yard, and even drank iced tea as they met the chickens.

  When the caseworkers had spoken with Sam and Caitlin back in LA, everyone had worn tight expressions on their faces the whole time. Even their first caseworker, Mrs. Washington. Every conversation had been full of sharp angles and pitfalls and booby traps, or else the opposite: too-soft voices dripping the same phrases over and over
. It’s going to be all right. It will get better. We just want what’s best …

  Now Sam went from laughing one moment to feeling guilty the next to joking with Aunt Vicky the moment after. It was starting to get exhausting. There were times when she had no idea which way to feel at all.

  When Mr. Sanchez and Sally finally left, Mr. Sanchez waved from the passenger seat of their car and called, “Nice meeting you, Caitlin and Sam. See you again soon!”

  He said it like he was their friend. Sam stood in the shade of the front porch with her hands shoved into her pockets. But Aunt Vicky and Hannah and Caitlin stood in the driveway and waved back.

  “Drive safe,” Hannah called.

  Sam dodged aside as Aunt Vicky and Hannah went back inside, but stepped in front of her sister, blocking her way.

  “Why did you wave to him?” Sam asked, genuinely confused. “He’s trying to make us forget that we want to go home!”

  The Caitlin that Sam knew would tell her to shut up. To go to her room. To stay quiet and out of the way.

  This Caitlin shrugged. “Actually, I thought they were both pretty okay. Mr. Sanchez’s glasses were a total dork-fest, though. I told him to up his game. We’ll see if he does for next time.”

  She nudged Sam playfully with her shoulder. “Now move, nerd, I need more lemonade.”

  Sam stood on the porch, stunned, as Caitlin walked past her and into the house. Armen said something and Caitlin laughed. Not even with the fake laugh!

  Caitlin kept looking forward to the future, as if that was going to save them. But Sam knew better. She knew what they’d had before. She and Caitlin had had a system, and it had worked just fine. All Sam needed to do was find a way back to it.

  Caitlin used to be Sam’s protector, but everything was different in Oregon, even that. Now it was Sam’s turn to save them. She needed to steal Pirate Princess and win the Golden Acorn, and she needed to do it fast, before the Caitlin she knew slipped away completely.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DURING THE MORNING’S visit, Sam had almost forgotten about the stolen computer mouse. Now that it was lunchtime, she could think of nothing else.

  “I can’t find it anywhere,” Aunt Vicky said, sorting through the computer cords for the third time. She turned to Armen. “Are you sure you didn’t put it in your bag by mistake?”

  Sam sat at the other end of the table with Caitlin and Lucas, trying to eat her egg-salad sandwich without choking on guilt. She’d been chewing the same bite for over a minute.

  “I don’t have it, Vic,” Armen said. “I’ve searched my bag, but you can go through it yourself if that’ll make you feel better.”

  Aunt Vicky took his bag and did just that.

  Armen glanced at Sam’s end of the table. “I don’t suppose one of you children saw what happened to the mouse?”

  Caitlin was about to answer when Aunt Vicky snapped, “Don’t involve them! They don’t even have computers.”

  Sam tried to swallow the gooey lump of food in her mouth but couldn’t.

  I had to do it, she said silently. I’m sorry, but I had to.

  “I’ve got two extra mice at my house,” Armen said. “I’ll run back and get one.”

  Aunt Vicky blew the hair out of her eyes and attacked the computer cords again. “We’re already so far behind.”

  The explosion was coming. Lucas continued eating like nothing was wrong, but Caitlin was stiff as a rock at Sam’s side, bracing for the inevitable. She gave Sam a small, grim nod, letting her know that at least they were in it together. At this stage, there was nothing else they could do.

  Hands. Hands were so fast.

  Aunt Vicky stopped. Closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Sam watched the hard line of her shoulders round and soften, as if Aunt Vicky were remolding them out of clay. She opened her eyes again.

  “I’m sorry, Armen,” Aunt Vicky said. “I was upset, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She looked at Caitlin and Sam. “I’m sorry, kids.”

  “It’s okay, no big deal,” Caitlin said brightly, and went back to her sandwich.

  Sam sat there silently, waiting for the surprise. The twist. The sharp knuckle of a fist that would jab an arm or a leg. Aunt Vicky had been so angry, Sam was sure of it. But now, she almost seemed back to normal.

  Sam had never seen her father do anything like that. Not even once. And now everyone was acting like nothing had happened.

  But then … maybe nothing had happened. It was so confusing!

  Aunt Vicky poured herself some iced tea and refilled Armen’s glass. Sam studied the lines around her eyes, the set of her mouth, the position of her hands. The anger was gone. Somehow Aunt Vicky had banished it completely.

  “Maybe Sam and Lucas can fetch the mouse,” Aunt Vicky said. “That way, we can get started on the documentation.”

  “Oh, hooray, my favorite part,” Armen said. “Lucas? Sam? Do you accept this highly important mission?”

  “Sure!” Lucas said.

  Sam nodded. She found herself pleased that Lucas was willing to spend time with her again after the whole compass-throwing incident.

  “No dawdling,” Armen said.

  “A little dawdling is fine,” Aunt Vicky countered. She smiled at Sam.

  Caitlin polished off the last of her sandwich and rolled her eyes. “Is everyone in this house a complete nerd?”

  Sam looked at Aunt Vicky, to see if she’d be upset. But her aunt only laughed.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Aunt Vicky said.

  Sam finished her lunch and headed into the sunny wilderness with Lucas. He had grabbed three Oreos on the way out and was shedding crumbs with every step. They walked along the edge of the forest, close enough to enjoy some shade but not so close that they’d be tripping on roots every three seconds.

  For once, Lucas wasn’t saying anything. Sam knew why. He was upset with her about the compass. It shouldn’t have bothered her—she was leaving soon anyway!—but for some reason, it still did.

  “Um … I’m sorry for yesterday,” Sam said.

  Lucas’s eyes widened. “What? I told my dad what happened, and he said I was a huge jerk to you.”

  “He called you a jerk?”

  “Well, not exactly,” Lucas said. “He said that if you don’t want to talk about…” He paused. “He said that if you don’t want to talk about something, it’s not my place to keep talking about it anyway. He said I was inconsiderate of your feelings, or something like that.”

  Sam walked in silence, thinking. Was that what had happened? Maybe it was. Maybe what happened wasn’t entirely her fault.

  “But I shouldn’t have thrown the compass at you,” she said.

  “Yeah, my dad agrees about that, but he said your anger was understandable on account of my jerkishness.”

  Sam doubted those were Armen’s exact words, but she got the gist.

  “It’s a good thing you missed,” Lucas said.

  “I didn’t miss! I was aiming for your feet!”

  Lucas laughed and, after a few seconds, so did Sam.

  She took a chance. “I … don’t suppose I could have the compass back?” She’d be looking for the Golden Acorn soon, and it might come in handy. Not that she could tell Lucas that.

  He dug into his satchel and pulled it out. “I kept it just in case.”

  Sam gratefully took the compass and waited for the caveats. Only if you promise not to throw it again. Only if you get good grades. Only if you do all your chores.

  Instead, Lucas pointed at a mushroom clinging to a nearby tree and proceeded to tell her everything he knew about it. Probably everything anybody knew about it, considering how long he talked. Surprisingly, Sam didn’t mind. She opened her compass and watched the needle find its way north.

  When they got to Armen and Lucas’s house—which looked a lot like Aunt Vicky’s, only it was gray with white trim and there were no chickens—Sam drank a glass of water in the small, tidy kitchen while Lucas searched his father’s desk for the extr
a computer mouse. Among the items Lucas tossed to the floor during his excavation was a box of white envelopes.

  “Oh!” Sam said. “Do you think I could borrow one of those envelopes? I have to send a letter to my best friend.”

  She felt another pang of guilt. What with Mr. Sanchez’s visit and the chickens and everything, she’d barely thought about BriAnn all day.

  “Sure,” Lucas said, handing her four of them. “The extras are for mistakes.” A moment later, he yanked a white computer mouse out of the bottom drawer and held it up like a trophy. “Ta-da!”

  Sam wasn’t surprised to sense Ashander in the forest as they walked back to Aunt Vicky’s. The sunlight played tricks, casting leaves with tints of red like his fur, turning shadows from black to purple, like his coat. Or maybe it wasn’t the sun playing tricks, but the fox himself.

  Either way, Sam got the message: Lucas was a distraction.

  She wasn’t his friend, and she didn’t want to be his friend … not when BriAnn and her parents were waiting for her. This was just another part of her loyalty test.

  “You got quiet,” Lucas said.

  “I guess I don’t feel like talking anymore,” Sam said.

  He pulled out his knitting, and Sam tried not to look as terrible as she felt.

  * * *

  After dinner—it was quiche this time, which was still eggs but fancier—Armen and Lucas went home. Sam was wiping down the table and waiting for Caitlin to leap up and offer to help with the dishes, like she’d done after every meal. Instead, her sister dumped her plate on the counter and started to head back to her room.

  Maybe she’d just forgotten.

  Hannah seemed equally baffled. “Can you please stay and help with the dishes, Caitlin?”

  Sam was positive Caitlin would now fall over herself for the chance to please every adult within range.

  Caitlin paused in the hallway, a strange look of disinterest on her face. “I don’t really feel like it tonight.”

  Sam’s mouth fell open. Literally. Fell. Open.

  Hannah recovered much faster. “When someone else cooks, the rest of us clean. It’s a house rule.”