Eruption (2 page)

The Rossis came out of the barn, followed by Rashawn, just as Chase, John, and Tomás were pounding the final nails into their bridge. Nicole was smiling, which could mean only one thing. She was going to Mexico.

“Against my better judgment,” Marco began. “And because I've been outvoted two to one.” He glanced at Nicole and Momma Rossi. “Nicole can go to Mexico with you if you'll have her. I'm hoping you'll say no.”

Chase's father stood up and slipped his hammer into his tool belt. “Sorry,” he said. “But it's your call, not mine.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Marco looked at his daughter and his mother. “When you see my wife in Mexico, tell her the reason I sent Nicole down there is that my mother is absolutely convinced that Nicole has to go, or bad things will happen. As if an earthquake isn't bad enough.”

Chase's father climbed out of the ditch and looked at Momma Rossi. “What kind of bad things?”

“We need to check on the animals,” Momma Rossi said, and walked toward the second barn without answering him.

As they followed, Chase's father stopped him. “What was that all about?”

“Momma Rossi, well … I don't know how to say it exactly. She can see things.”

“She's psychic?”

“You'll have to ask her.”

 

Food and security were all it really took to get the animals back where they belonged … along with some repairs. Chase's father and Tomás fixed the bear cage while Marco kept Brutus away from them by pounding a metal garbage-can lid with a stick. Next they fixed the ostrich pen while Nicole, Rashawn, and Chase corralled the birds into a corner by spreading their arms so the birds wouldn't run around and smash into walls. When the ostrich pen was repaired, Marco dumped some chow into their troughs. The ostriches couldn't get inside the pen fast enough. Brutus proved to be more of a challenge. He wasn't hungry, having eaten a good portion of the ostrich Nicole had been forced to shoot the night before. Marco was about to use the tranquilizer gun on him, when Momma Rossi walked in to see how things were going.

“No need for that,” she said. “Brutus, get in that cage right now!”

Brutus looked up at her, with black feathers dangling from his mouth, but he didn't leave the bird carcass.

“Fine,” Momma Rossi said, and rushed him. It was hard to say who was more startled, Brutus or everyone in the barn
watching. She slapped him on the rear end. He bellowed in protest and nearly knocked Marco down in his desperation to get into his cage.

“Now, why didn't I think of that?” Marco said, shaking his head in dismay. “I can just see the headline now. ‘Old Woman Killed by Bear After Surviving the Storm of the Century.'”

“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 impassable. 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.”