by Roland Smith
“You didn’t think of it because you didn’t raise Brutus from a cub. I did. He and I have an understanding.”
“You raised me from a cub too,” Marco said. “But I’m liable to bite you if you ever try to swat me on the butt.”
Momma Rossi raised her hand. “Let’s give it a try and see what happens.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you, Dad,” Nicole said.
“You’re probably right.”
A truck bearing the logo of the Palm Breeze Wildlife Refuge pulled up as they were walking over to the third barn to check on the lions.
“Daddy!” Rashawn threw her arms around the man who had just stepped out of the cab. He returned the hug, then picked her up and swung her around in a circle. Mr. Stone was a giant and looked strong enough to swing Brutus around too.
He reached over to shake Chase’s hand. “You must be Chase. Rashawn tells me that if it hadn’t been for you, she wouldn’t have survived the storm.”
“We helped each other,” Chase said. “If we hadn’t, none of us would have made it through Emily.”
“However it went down, I’m grateful,” Mr. Stone said. He gave Rashawn another hug and looked at Marco. “The name’s Roger Stone. I manage the refuge down the road. I’m here to help in any way I can.”
“Marco Rossi.” Marco shook the tall man’s hand. “Right now we’re getting the animals contained. Four lions to go … five if you count Simba, but he’s already kind of contained.” Marco nodded at the semi.
“Rashawn told me about that on the phone,” Roger said. “I don’t know much about lions, but I’ve handled a lot of bobcats and pumas over the years.”
They walked to the third barn, which had partially collapsed. The young lion and three lionesses were in the outside pen, which was in pretty good shape. The men made a few quick repairs to the chain-link fence and pulled the debris off the wire before going inside. The holding areas were completely destroyed, except Simba’s cage.
“If the lions had been inside, they would have been crushed,” Marco said.
“Or they would have escaped,” Nicole added.
“Lucky,” Marco said.
“Fate?” Chase asked his father.
“You’ll have to ask Momma Rossi.”
Tomás jumped into the semi, pulled it across the new bridge, then backed it into the first barn. Pet trumpeted. Her calf took shelter between her legs. Hector the leopard growled and hit the bars of his holding cage. Even Poco, the injured squirrel monkey, weakly protested as the rig backed up toward the cat cage. Momma Rossi cradled Poco in her arm, trying to comfort him. Inside the trailer, Simba was silent. No roaring. No slamming into the walls as he had done the night before.
“You sure he’s in there?” Marco asked.
“He’s in there,” Nicole said.
Chase wasn’t as certain. Simba was being awfully quiet.
Tomás aligned the trailer perfectly with the section of cage they had removed. Marco had rigged a rope to the truck’s door latch so it could be pulled from outside the cage, from the top of the trailer.
“Who wants to do the honors?” he asked, holding the end of the rope and a long pole.
“I’ll do it,” Roger said. “But you’ll need to tell me what I have to do.”
“Pretty simple. Get on top of the trailer, pull the rope to release the latch, use the pole to swing the doors open, and try not to fall inside the cage with Simba.”
“I’ll pay particular attention to that last part,” Roger said.
“I’ll work the holding-area door,” Marco said. “Hopefully, Simba’s hungry and will dash inside to get the meat.”
Simba was out of the truck and into the cage before Roger was able to push the truck door all the way open. The cat roared, and rushed the bars of the circular cage, shaking the entire structure.
“He jumped over your heads last night?” Chase’s father asked.
“Yeah.”
“I would have had a heart attack.”
“I think I did,” Chase said, feeling his legs go weak at the memory.
Simba strutted to the center of the ring and let loose one final roar that echoed through the barn long after it had ended. He shook his black mane as if he was shaking off his rage, then caught the scent of the meat.
“That’s it, old man,” Marco said. “Dinnertime.”
Simba growled, then sprinted into the holding area. Marco closed the guillotine door behind him.
“The animals are contained,” Marco said with a sigh of relief.
It took them the rest of the day to elephant-proof the barn.
Roger Stone had offered to drive them to the airport in the refuge’s touring van. When he returned with the van, he had a couple of extra passengers: Rashawn’s mom and two-year-old brother, Randall, who was a miniature version of Rashawn.
“Where’s elephant?” he asked. “Show me elephant.”
“I guess I’d better stick here with Randall,” Rashawn said, laughing. “He’ll throw a fit if we try to get him back in that van.”
“There isn’t enough room in the van for all of us anyway,” Mrs. Stone said. “I’ll stay here too. It takes two people to take care of Randall.”
Chase and Nicole gave Rashawn hugs good-bye, promising to stay safe.
Chase and his father were the last ones to get into the van. Momma Rossi took John’s hand and fixed her dark eyes on him.
“What?” John asked.
“That lightning is still looking for you,” Momma Rossi said.
He gave her an uncomfortable smile. “It already found me.”
She returned his smile. “It’s going to find you again, Lightning John.”
Before he could ask her what she meant, she hurried after Rashawn and Randall into the elephant barn.
John looked at Chase. “Did you tell her about the lightning strike?”
Chase shook his head. “No, nothing. But I like the name.”
“I’m serious.”
“I didn’t tell her,” Chase said. “Momma Rossi just knows things.”
The high-pitched whine of the dentist’s drill sent shivers down Chase’s spine. He had slept soundly on the flight to Mexico, but he was awake now.
Wide awake, Chase thought.
The dentist asked him something in Spanish, which he didn’t understand — not that he would have been able to answer anyway. His mouth was stuffed with clamps, spreaders, gauze, surgical-gloved fingers, and a nasty-sounding suction hose. He nodded, hoping the dentist hadn’t just asked him if he wanted a gold tooth. The next sensation was almost as bad as the drill. It felt as if the dentist were pounding the cap on with a ball-peen hammer. The man finally finished, smiled, said something else Chase didn’t understand, and started extracting the hardware from Chase’s mouth. When he was done, he smiled again and handed Chase a mirror. To Chase’s relief, his new front tooth was porcelain and a pretty good match to his other front tooth.
Nicole was waiting for him in the reception area.
“Let’s see.”
Chase smiled to show her, but he really wasn’t sure if she could see the new tooth. He really wasn’t sure if he’d even moved his mouth — his face was numb from his upper lip to the top of his forehead.
“Looks good,” Nicole said.
Chase paid the dentist in cash. Before they’d left the Rossis’ farm, his father had given him a pile of money. Chase had always wondered what his father did with the money he made repairing storm damage. Apparently, he kept it in cash — in large-denomination bills — inside his go bag along with the emergency supplies. They all carried go bags now, including Cindy and Mark, as well as new satellite phones so they could stay in touch without relying on cell towers.
“What did you learn?” Chase asked. He had given Nicole his laptop to keep while he was in the dentist’s chair.
“A lot,” Nicole said. “And none of it’s good. Half of Puebla has been turned to rubble. Thousands of people are dead or missing. All the roads are imp
assable. They’re using helicopters to get rescue workers in and the injured out, but it’s very slow going. And to top it off, Mount Popocatepetl is smoking.”
“Mount what?”
“Po-po-cat-uh-petal.” Nicole pronounced it slowly. “It means ‘smoking mountain.’”
“It’s erupting?”
“Steam and ash, but nothing serious yet.”
“This just gets better and better,” Chase said. “What about your mom?”
Nicole shook her head. “No word. Their last performance was in Puebla, Monday night. Normally, they would have struck the show right after the final act and hit the road when the traffic was light. They were supposed to meet Arturo here in Mexico City yesterday to pick up the animals he was hauling down. The show is supposed to start tonight, and they aren’t here. This is the first time in a hundred years that the Rossi Brothers’ Circus has missed a performance.”
“So they’re stuck in Puebla, or just outside it.”
Nicole gave him a worried nod.
“Don’t worry,” Chase said. “We’ll find them. Where are my dad and Tomás?”
“Out getting supplies. Arturo’s at the fairgrounds just down the street. We’re supposed to meet everyone there.”
Arturo was an exact copy of Tomás, only younger and with a small chimpanzee on his lap. Nicole picked the chimpanzee up and gave it a hug. It seemed happy to see her.
“How was dentist?” Arturo asked.
Chase smiled and showed his new tooth.
“Bueno.”
Chase pointed at the chimpanzee. “What’s his name?”
“It’s a she, and her name is Chiquita.”
Chiquita wasn’t alone. There were two camels, a black bear, a tiger, and a good-size crowd of people gawking at the animals. Arturo had roped off the area to keep the spectators at a distance.
“You should charge an entrance fee,” Nicole said.
“I’m thinking about it. They are here from morning until darkness. I have to pay children to bring me food.”
Chase looked at Arturo’s old sleeping bag and rumpled clothes in the back of the truck. Since meeting Nicole, he had thought more than once about becoming a circus roustabout when he got older. This sight took some of the romance out of the idea. Sleeping in the back of a truck without being able to leave to get food did not sound like much fun.
“I take it you’re not coming with us,” Nicole said.
“The only way I could go would be to take the animals with me. But of course that won’t work. I’ll wait here in case your mother shows up while you’re out looking for her.”
“The clowns will be happy to see Chiquita,” Nicole explained to Chase. “Chiquita and her twin brother, Chico, are part of their act. Chiquita was under the weather when the show headed south, so we held her back. But you’re all better now, aren’t you, Chiquita?”
Chiquita gave her a hoot and a high five.
Two brand-new, white 4x4 trucks pulled up, equipped with crew cabs, roll bars, auxiliary lights, and power winches. Strapped down in the bed of each truck was a quad. The sides of both trucks were stenciled in red:
M.D. EMERGENCY SERVICES
The M.D. didn’t stand for Medical Doctor, but sometimes the authorities thought it did and Chase’s father didn’t correct them. It helped get them into restricted areas. M.D. stood for Masters of Disaster. His father’s little joke. But his father wasn’t joking now. He climbed out of the truck all business. He didn’t even ask about Chase’s tooth.
“The new sat phones have GPS. Keep the phone with you at all times. I also got these.” He handed Bluetooth earpieces to Chase and Nicole. Cindy, Mark, and Tomás already had theirs in. His father’s Bluetooth flashed just above his lightning bolt earring.
That lightning is still looking for you, Momma Rossi had said. Chase wondered if the bolt had found his father while he’d been at the dentist’s. John Masters looked completely charged — and clearly in charge. Chase smiled. Lightning John is a perfect name for him.
“The phones are synced to each other and will act like walkie-talkies,” his father continued. “If you answer, you’ll be able to hear everyone, and everyone will be able to hear you. Just tap the Bluetooth if you want to listen in. Mark and Cindy will ride with me. Chase and Nicole will ride with Tomás. When we get closer to Puebla, we’ll decide our next step. And one more thing.” He gave each of them a small zippered case. “Respirators in case we run into ash up on the mountain. Put them in your go bags. Any questions?”
No one had any questions. Or if they did, they didn’t ask out loud. Mark was filming the whole thing. That’s a question killer, Chase thought. Who wants to ask a dumb question with the camera rolling?
Tomás gave Arturo a hug and got into his truck. Chase and Nicole climbed in after him. Chase looked back as they drove away. His father was already getting into his truck behind them. Arturo was waving. Chiquita had her hand up too.
“Was your dad in the military?” Nicole asked as they pulled onto the highway.
“Navy,” Chase answered. “But it was before he married my mom.”
“What did he do in the Navy?”
“I never asked him, and he never talks about it. Why?”
“He seems … I don’t know. Organized, I guess.”
“He’s certainly organized. Most contractors are.”
“Circus people are organized too,” Nicole said. “But your dad’s extra-organized. We’ve been here less than five hours and he’s mounted a full-scale expedition inside a foreign country.”
“Mexico is hardly a foreign country.”
“Look at this truck and all this special gear. He had to get a car dealer out of bed at the crack of dawn to get these trucks.”
Chase looked around the cab. It smelled new. The only things that weren’t new were the laminated photos of Tomás’s eight children and his wife, Guadalupe, duct-taped to the dash. Above them was Tomás’s plastic statue of Saint Christopher, patron saint of travelers.
He’s also invoked against lightning, Chase thought. Not a problem today. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. People are driving, shopping, going about their day as if —
“Popocatepetl,” Tomás said.
The “smoking mountain” was smoking. A plume of white steam rose ten thousand feet above the nearly eighteen-thousand-foot peak.
“I didn’t realize it was so close to Mexico City,” Chase said.
Nicole turned and said something to Tomás in what sounded to Chase like pretty good Spanish. Tomás responded, and they continued speaking rapidly as the volcano loomed larger in the distance.
When they stopped talking, Chase asked Nicole about her Spanish.
“Circuses are international,” Nicole said. “The acts are from all over the world, but most of our roustabouts are Hispanic. I was asking Tomás about his family. They live in a village called Lago de la Montaña, or Lake of the Mountain. I guess people call it Lago for short. It’s on the east side of the mountain just below the rim.”
“So, not a good place to be right now,” Chase said.
“No,” Tomás said.
They drove on in silence.
“Noon,” his father said over the Bluetooth.
Chase looked at his watch. “Exactly.”
“Pull over where the road splits.”
Tomás pulled the 4x4 onto the shoulder. Everyone got out.
“We haven’t seen another car in half an hour,” Chase’s father said. “My guess is nobody’s getting in or out of Puebla, at least not on this road. And I don’t like the look of that plume. We need to split up so we can cover more ground. I’ll continue toward Puebla and see what we’re up against. Tomás will head up to Lago and make sure his family’s okay.”
“Then I want to ride with you, to Puebla,” Nicole said to John.
“I figured that.” He looked at Cindy and Mark. “One of you needs to go with Tomás and Chase.”
“I’ll do it,” Cindy said. “Mark needs to shoot video
. I’m extra baggage.”
Except for Tomás and Lightning John, we’re all extra baggage, Chase thought. He would have preferred to travel with Nicole, but he understood her wanting to go to Puebla, where her mother and sister might be. And he understood his father’s reason for going to Puebla right away. The plume — what they could see of it now so close to the mountain — had turned from white to gray in the last half hour. Tomás had told them that didn’t necessarily mean the volcano was going to be a problem. The steam and ash were common. But Chase could tell he was worried about it.
Nicole and Cindy went to pick up their go bags.
John waved Chase over to the guardrail to talk to him alone.
“You okay with Nicole going with me?”
“You okay with Cindy going with me?” Chase asked.
His father grinned. “Actually, I am. Take care of her, and take care of yourself.”
“What do you want us to do when we find Tomás’s family?”
He looked up the mountainside. “It’s up to Tomás, but I’d get them out of here. I just really don’t like the look of that plume.”
“Do you know anything about volcanic eruptions?”
“A little. I was in a bad eruption in Indonesia before you were born.”
“When you were in the Navy?”
His father nodded.
“Why were you in Indonesia?” This trip down to Mexico was Chase’s first time out of the country, but apparently it was not his father’s.
“I was sent there to help rescue some people.”
“From an eruption?”
“Not exactly. Look — let’s talk about this another time. We need to get moving.”
“Sure,” Chase said. Just another thing he doesn’t want to talk about.
He walked over to Nicole. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
She burst out laughing. “It can’t be worse than the hurricane,” she said.
Chase looked up at the gray plume. He wasn’t so sure.