The daredevils, p.15
The Daredevils, page 15
Dad played along. He stood where Waylon indicated and rolled up his sleeve. Waylon prepped the area and then uncapped his marker and began drawing. It wasn’t his best work because he didn’t have anything to trace from paper. We didn’t know Dad would be coming so Waylon had to improvise, but he did a good job. I could tell what it was that he’d drawn—and it was perfect.
When he finished, Waylon capped the marker and made his announcement. “You’ve been given the great horned owl to represent your advanced age. May the Forest Spirits continue to pass along wisdom as you grow even older and grayer.”
Louie and I laughed.
Dad sneered but didn’t object.
“We’re not quite finished,” Waylon said. “Since you come with a message from the Forest Spirits, we must give you stripes.” He took the marker and added two swipes under Dad’s left eye, and then two under his right. “Now you’re ready. Dance.”
Dad’s face scrunched.
“Around the fire,” Waylon emphasized. “Dance.”
Dad started, and I burst into laughter. Our fire ceremony had just turned into comedy hour. Dad’s movements resembled a chicken dance, not any owl. After poking fun, we joined to help him out, Waylon first, and then Louie and me. It was an energetic dance, made even better when Waylon got near Louie and me and let us in on his secret.
“I used my permanent markers,” he whispered.
Oh. My. God. That was all I needed to hear, and I was cracking up again. Dad was going to spend the next month looking like a raccoon!
We continued dancing and laughing our way around the circle before finally coming to a stop. Dad laughed with us. He was a good sport. He was also clueless because he wouldn’t be laughing come morning when he couldn’t get those stripes off.
“Daredevils, I’ve joined you tonight for a very special reason,” Dad said, turning serious. “I come with a gift.”
We took seats and quieted, curious to see what he’d brought. But before the gift, Dad first shared a story with us.
“Many years ago, my brother died while in the service,” he began. “When his body came home, he was accompanied by a few friends. They spoke about Rusty, but I was too pained to listen to everything they said—my hero was gone. I may not remember the words they shared, but I will forever remember the song that was played on this harmonica.”
Dad pulled the small instrument from his pocket and held it out. He continued.
“The harmonica-playing medic filled the air with a song that he said was Rusty’s favorite. He intended to have Rusty buried with the harmonica, but I asked him if I could have it. I don’t know why, but I did. I think maybe because music was something Rusty and I loved together.”
Dad paused and swallowed, then looked at Louie. “Your mother mentioned your father’s name in one of our sessions. Johnathan Lee Foster, is that right?”
Louie nodded.
Dad handed him the harmonica, the initials JLF scratched on the side.
“Louie, that medic was your father. I met him all those years ago. He was a great friend of my brother’s.”
Louie ran his finger over the side of the harmonica. He squeezed the piece of metal in his hands as his eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Mr. Neal,” he croaked.
“The Forest Spirits have wound their magic all around and in between you daredevils. The three of you were meant to find each other,” Dad said.
Louie lifted his father’s harmonica to his lips and began playing. I will never again doubt the power of what you can’t see or explain—because it is real. I felt it.
Leaving the forest that night I wondered if witnessing all that had happened for Louie and my father was my gift for a successful rite of passage. That was all I needed, and I mean that. Sure, I would’ve taken more screen time, but I wasn’t some ungrateful brat.
It’s just…well, I wondered. Louie had presented Waylon with a coonskin hat and my brother hadn’t even succeeded in his rite of passage—according to himself. And the harmonica was an incredible gift for Louie. So a tiny piece of me wondered, What about me?
Go ahead and say what you want, but my wondering made me consider that maybe I wasn’t done yet. That maybe there was something more I needed to do. And I knew just what that was. Finding my way started with me speaking the truth.
When we got back home, I followed my brother into his bedroom. “Waylon,” I croaked. I waited for him to turn around and look at me. “I’m sorry I said those things about you and Penelope.”
His face softened. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”
“I got jealous and that made me say those hurtful things that I didn’t mean or believe.”
“It’s okay,” he said again. “I didn’t mean the things I said either. You’re good at making friends when you’re not worrying about me—and when you keep your temper in check.”
I snorted. “I guess I’m a bit like Ms. Foster—too protective.”
“You’re not Ms. Foster. You’re the wolf, and you’ll always be my best friend.”
That got to me a little bit when he said that, but before I could say anything more, my brother showed me just how much he was like our sentimental father. He came closer and pulled me into a hug. The hug surprised me, but not as much as the difference I felt in Waylon’s arms. He was definitely stronger now. My Mr. Miyagi exercises had made a difference after all! Don’t worry, the sentimental stuff didn’t last long. He was still my same brother, and he proved that when he let go and stepped back.
“Tomorrow I’ll be attempting my second rite of passage,” he informed me.
“Tomorrow?” I said, caught off guard. “Tomorrow we have to do community service for the car catcher,” I reminded him.
“I know—and before we’re done, I’ll approach our nemesis, P.E. Bubba, and propose a truce.”
Loretta filled in most of the details for Mom and Dad after the email about the car catcher came (leaving out Penelope). She told me I couldn’t talk because I was still too excited about the trap and would wind up saying too much—which was probably true.
According to his email, P.E. Bubba did not know who was responsible. At least, he couldn’t prove it, though he had his suspicions. He urged parents to talk to their children, and if anyone had any information about who was behind the heinous crime, to please report it. Luckily, insurance would be covering the cost of his repair job—which, truthfully, had seemed a lot worse at the time than the few minor dents and scratches it turned out to be.
Nonetheless, Mom and Dad spent time talking to us. They wanted to make sure Loretta and I understood that while the car catcher was very creative and well thought out, and something they wished they could’ve seen, it was a bad idea. Period. One of my best worst ideas, as Dad put it. Somebody could’ve been hurt. However, my parents also couldn’t deny that P.E. Bubba was a mean, petty, spiteful meathead who no doubt got what was coming to him. And they didn’t even know the half of how he treated Loretta and me.
All that being said, my parents decided we didn’t need to admit to anything because they just didn’t see any good coming from that, which made Loretta very happy, but we also weren’t off the hook. There had to be a consequence, and for something of this magnitude, Mom and Dad agreed that some form of community service seemed appropriate. So all together, we came up with the idea of holding a trash cleanup day at the youth center and throughout the neighboring community. All the bottles that were collected would be deposited and the money given to P.E. Bubba for emotional damages.
We did your standard advertising for the event, starting with an email to the families of all the campers and then a few social media posts, and I’m happy to report the result was a strong turnout. More kids showed than I was expecting. Maybe parents felt bad for P.E. or maybe they just liked the idea of having their children participate in community service, or maybe in the case of Grace and Alyssa, whom I’d never met before, they came because they liked Loretta. Whatever the reason, Loretta was relieved by the numbers because she said it made us look less guilty. I told her she could also be excited because with that many people we were actually going to make a difference and accomplish considerable cleanup—which I’m also happy to report, we did.
While the day’s work was important, I was most focused on my second rite of passage. I put it into motion once the volunteers were spread out and P.E. made an appearance, which I knew he would because he’d want his money.
“P.E. Bubba, I want to apologize for the damage done to your Corvette,” I said, approaching him.
“I knew it was you,” he growled.
“I didn’t say that,” I clarified. “I simply wanted to say sorry. It’s unfortunate what happened.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said, “and if I ever catch who was behind it, they’re gonna pay.”
“Oh, I was referring to the water you splashed all over me. Now, that was unfortunate.”
He guffawed.
“I’d like to propose a truce,” I said. “We can continue as enemies or bury the past and move forward in peace.”
“You think I’d ever be friendly with your family? You’re dumber than I thought.”
“On the contrary, I’m much too smart for you, so I suggest you reconsider. Besides, I didn’t say we needed to be friends, only that we agree to leave each other alone. It’s an offer I encourage you to accept because I have the spirits of my uncle Rusty and medic Johnathan Lee Foster on my side.”
“You’re weird.”
“And you’re bald. Both are irrelevant. Truce,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.
“I’m not accepting any offer of yours,” he snarled.
I pulled my hand back. “That is disappointing. Since Loretta and I are finished at the elementary school, I was truly hoping we could let bygones be bygones, but apparently not. Just so you know, I’ll still be instructing my pack that you are off-limits. However, should you choose to cross any one of us, I will not be able to honor that promise. You’ve been warned.”
“Pfft. Just so you know, one of the gym teachers at the middle school retired and I’m taking the position, so I’ll be moving there with you. You’ve been warned.”
I held his stare but didn’t respond. Then I turned and walked away to rejoin my pack: Loretta, Louie, and Penelope. Louie had come with us because he was excited to meet people before school started in the fall, and Penelope refused to watch Loretta and me take the blame for something she had masterminded. No one had to force her to help.
Naturally, they each asked what my conversation with P.E. was all about. I filled them in, starting with the news that P.E. would be following us to the middle school and then making it clear our gym teacher was to be left alone. No one in the pack was allowed to break that vow unless P.E. crossed one of us first.
“Who’s your pack?” Penelope asked.
Her question surprised me because in my mind that was obvious, but then I realized something. It wasn’t official. “Loretta and Louie,” I replied. “And you, once we hold a fire ceremony and officially welcome you to the Daredevils.”
Louie smiled—and so did Loretta.
Just when I thought our summer movie had played out and it was time for the credits, there was another surprise. Waylon wasn’t done yet. He still had one more trick up his sleeve.
It happened a few days after our community service event. I had just finished watching Star Wars, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Ever see it? I sure hope so. It’s only the most famous surprise twist in movie history. When Darth Vader tells Luke, “I am your father.” I mean, whoa! How do you top that? I didn’t think it was possible, but like I said, Waylon wasn’t done yet.
I closed my laptop and went to find my brother. He wasn’t in his bedroom, so I walked downstairs to see if he was in the kitchen. Mom was home from work and beginning to make dinner.
“Have you seen Waylon?” I asked her.
“He just ran a plate of cookies out to the landscape boys for me. I wanted to do something nice for them because they’ve been doing a terrific job. I’m hoping your father gives up on his mower so we can keep using them.”
Landscape boys? I thought, the word “boys” playing over in my mind. What if?
I ran from the kitchen and out the front door. Had my mother just fed Waylon to the lion?
My heart dropped when I saw the familiar orange T-shirt riding on the big mower. But where was his partner? Leon was nowhere to be found—and neither was my brother.
“Waylon!” I yelled, panicking.
I ran to the corner of the house and finally spotted the weed eater. It was lying on the ground, on the other side of their truck and trailer. Just the bottom part was sticking past the wheel where I could see it.
I took off, sprinting in that direction. I tore around the back of the trailer and came face to face with Leon. My fists clenched automatically.
“Where’s my brother?” I growled.
“I don’t know. He just dropped these off and left,” Leon said, showing me the plate of cookies. “Thanks for making them.”
My face scrunched. “What?”
“Waylon said you made them for me. Well, for me and my brother. Thanks.”
“Uh…um,” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say. My head was spinning. At last, I settled on “You’re welcome.”
“You didn’t need to make them to keep me quiet about P.E. Bubba,” Leon said, “if that’s what you were worried about. Trust me, I won’t be saying anything. I can’t stand that guy.”
Now it was my turn to say thanks.
“My dad’s friend beat him up in the high school parking lot once a long time ago,” Leon went on. He grinned. “Wish I could’ve seen that.”
I swallowed. “Yeah, me too.”
“I got to see your penalty kick, though. That was pretty awesome.”
Now I grinned.
“Leon!” his brother yelled from the mower. “Are you gonna flirt all day or finish with the weed eating?”
Leon’s face turned red. I’m pretty sure mine did too. “I better get back to work,” he said. “Thanks again for the cookies.”
“Sure.”
He grabbed his weed eater and started walking away.
“Hey, Leon,” I called, my voice cracking.
He turned around.
“Thanks for not killing my brother when he came out here.”
He laughed. “You can stop worrying about that too. No way I’m messing with him. I’m not only scared of you—I like you.”
Let me tell you, those last three words shocked me more than Darth Vader’s. He liked me?! What?!
Leon fired up his weed eater and got back to work, but I couldn’t move. I was too stunned. I just stood there, watching him. Before disappearing around the side of our house, Leon glanced at me and smiled. I waved and smiled back, my heart still hammering away. Even after he was out of sight, my smile didn’t fade.
I skipped back into the house, feeling…happy. Floating happy. My brother was there to greet me when I returned.
“Hurd’s the man,” he said, and smirked.
I couldn’t decide if I’d done enough to get Waylon ready for middle school, but after watching him stand toe to toe with P.E. Bubba and escape unharmed, and then have the guts to face Leon Hurd, I knew I could stop worrying. It was never really about Waylon anyways. It was always about me, and getting me ready to be without my brother continually by my side.
I was ready now—thanks to the Daredevils. While I was still the wolf and would continue to look out for my pack, I knew they would have my back too.
If our saga was a Disney princess fairy tale, I might get away with saying we all lived happily ever after and let that be it, but that wasn’t our style. We were more of an action-adventure movie—and we weren’t done yet. Thanks to Waylon, the Daredevils had Penelope to tattoo and welcome into our club at a future fire ceremony, and though no one else knew it yet, we also had Leon Hurd to include. That was a must. He couldn’t be all bad—especially if he liked me. (Let’s not forget, a little romance usually adds spice to a movie.) Besides, once Leon told me about his dad’s friend, I knew it had to happen. Leon was connected with us through the work of the Forest Spirits.
This final scene was more of a beginning—because there were still plenty of adventures ahead. (More on that later.)
Acknowledgments
This story sat with me for a very long time and might never have become a book if it weren’t for my incredible editor, Françoise Bui. As always, your insights and feedback were invaluable. I’m especially thankful for your stamina in dealing with my many nitpicky questions during copyediting. The Daredevils would honor you with a fire ceremony!
Thanks to Julie McLaughlin for the awesome cover. I love everything about it, but the animal shadows are my favorite!
I’m forever grateful for Beverly Horowitz and Paul Fedorko, two people who’ve been in my corner from the beginning. Big thanks to the entire publishing team at Random House Children’s Books for the attention and care you continue to give to my work.
Huge hugs to my country music–loving family—for never changing the station and for singing along, even to the old stuff. And for offering advice and ideas to my random story questions—even when your answer is “I don’t know.” Love you all!
About the Author
Rob Buyea is a former teacher and the author of the Mr. Terupt series, the Perfect Score series, and What Comes Next. As a boy, he spent countless hours exploring the woods. He is a true country music fan, as are his wife and children, though they won’t admit it.
RobBuyea.com
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