Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green (3 page)

T
he airport is by far the tiniest I’ve ever seen. We just walk right off the plane onto the ground—we don’t go through one of those detachable hallway thingies. The second I step out onto the little staircase, I get slammed by hot, heavy air. I look over at Roo and see that her face is already shimmering with moisture.

“Man,” Roo says, “what is
up
with this air?”

“Welcome to humidity, Roo,” Mom says with a giddy laugh. Happy that we survived the tiny-plane ride. Happy that she’s about to see Dad.

I feel like the air here is green. I mean, it’s not
actually
green, but it has this thick, green smell as though the jungle leaves are breathing it out. Which I guess
is
what’s happening, though it’s been a while since Dad reminded me exactly how photosynthesis works.

We wait as the flight attendant and copilot pile everyone’s luggage next to the plane, and before they’re even finished Ken/Neth picks up his suitcase, and Mom’s, and then grabs the rolly suitcase Roo and I are sharing.

“That’s not necessary, Ken,” Mom says. “Let us carry something.”

But he just gives her his goofiest grin and starts walking toward the airport building, which looks sort of like a one-room schoolhouse. That’s when I realize that, except for the runway and the building and the small parking lot, everything is jungle. All along the edges it’s jungle, jungle, jungle, and there’s a great noise rising from the jungle, or bunches of noises that add up to one.

“Hey,” Roo says, “
what
is that growling sound?”

I’m impressed she can pick one sound out of everything.

“Howler monkeys.” Ken/Neth grins. “Loud little buggers, aren’t they?”

“Wow! Wow! Wow!” Roo says with each step. “I didn’t know this is what it’d be like.”

I definitely have to agree with her there. I didn’t realize it would feel like we were on a different planet.

Ken/Neth moves quickly (his long legs are
so
long), and we rush to keep up. Inside the airport, a man dressed in white pajamas is holding a sign that says:

SEÑORA SYLVIA WADE

SEÑORITAS MADELINE Y RUBY WADE

“That’s us!” Roo whispers loudly. “Fancy-pantsy!”

I’m waiting for Mom to mention the fact that she kept her maiden name, so she’s actually Ms. Flynn, not Mrs. Wade, but she doesn’t say anything. I look over at Ken/Neth to see if he’ll say something, since he’s sort of in charge, but he doesn’t seem to notice—he’s busy greeting the man in pajamas by holding up two fingers in a peace sign.

The man smiles quickly in our general direction without actually looking at us. He doesn’t say a word as he leads us outside and loads
our luggage into a van that’s pure white, aside from a pair of elegant gray
L
s on the side. He opens the side door and Roo clambers eagerly into the van, followed by me and then Mom. It has a sky-blue interior and is deeply air-conditioned.

“This,” Roo announces, “is the most beautiful van in the entire universe.”

Ken/Neth sits in front with the driver and they talk very softly, in English or Spanish—I can’t even tell from the way backseat where Roo insisted we sit. Roo is in one of her wiggly moods. She grabs my hand and squeezes it, then drops it so she can put her nose up against the window to look out, then grabs it to squeeze it again as the van heads down a long, badly paved road lined with walls of jungle.

The cold air is giving me a headache, so I press the button to roll down my window and stick my head out into the humidity. I decide right then that I like humidity. It smells like flowers growing.

Roo is babbling to Mom, asking about how many different kinds of monkeys we’re going to see, when I realize why this road is so bumpy—thick jungle vines sneak up between cracks in the asphalt, breaking the road apart. I get this creepy vision of the jungle as a gigantic monster with millions of octopus arms.

“Mad,” Mom is saying, “Mad, the driver wants you to roll up your window, please.”

I look up and see that the driver is staring at me in the rearview mirror.

“Okay,” I say, embarrassed. I press the button. “Sorry.”

But I don’t like having glass between me and the outside, even though I’m already scared of the jungle. I stay quiet for the rest of the ride and let Roo shout the questions up to Ken/Neth.

“Hey, are those
pineapples
in the middle of those plants?”

“Yep, that’s a pineapple plantation,” Ken/Neth replies, grinning, as usual.

“I thought pineapples grew on trees!”

“Well, those are pineapples, Roo-by.”

“Man, doesn’t it look like Dr. Seuss invented that plant?”

And on and on. I tune it out, stare at the jungle. After half an hour or so, we turn onto a different road. Now we can see the silhouette of the volcano, as blue and perfect as before.

“Gettin’ close,” Ken/Neth announces.

The volcano seems bigger and bigger as we approach it on the very straight road. I close my eyes for a few seconds and then open them again, close, open, close, open, and I can create the illusion that the volcano is actually pushing its way out of the earth, growing with each passing second. Sometimes it’s kind of fun to freak yourself out.

Then we turn right and suddenly we’re too close to the volcano to really see it. Now we just have to imagine it. Which somehow feels even freakier, as though there’s a monster standing right behind you.

“And here we are,” Ken/Neth proclaims as the driver steers into a parking lot. “Welcome, ladies, to the Selva Lodge.”

“The Selva Lodge?” I say, confused. No one ever mentioned a Selva Lodge. “I thought we were staying at La Lava.” With our
actual
dad, I stop myself from adding.

“Oh shoot,” Ken/Neth says apologetically. “I thought you knew. Kids can’t stay at La Lava, so you’ll be staying here. They have a pool!”

What? We seriously aren’t staying with Dad? I turn to Mom, waiting for her to correct Ken/Neth, but she just shrugs at me.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she says. “I thought I mentioned to you that kids aren’t allowed to stay at La Lava.”

First of all, Mom most definitely did not ever mention that to me, because I obviously would have remembered an annoying fact like that, and second of all, I hate places that don’t allow kids. What’s their problem?

Roo looks at me and I look at her. We’re together in our rage, and that feels good.

“La Lava is
such a jerk
!” Roo says. “Why don’t they want us?”

“Girls!” Mom says sharply. “Be grateful for where you are. The Selva Lodge is lovely too.”

“Sure,” Roo mutters, “whatever. But Dad isn’t here.”

“Ruby,” Mom says in that threatening way of hers, and Roo has to shut her mouth.

From the van I can see that the pink 1950s-style sign for the Selva Lodge is missing some letters so it reads
SELV L DGE
, which is just real nice.

Then I hop out and get a better look at the Selva Lodge, which is pretty much like any old American motel except for all the weird animal sounds coming from the jungle.

Ken/Neth has already made it across the gravel parking lot. He opens the gate and I hurry over to follow him and Mom and Roo into a concrete courtyard. A few kids are splashing around in a pool, and the hotel forms a square around it, with three rows of orange numbered doors plus a little souvenir shop and café area on the fourth side. The café just has a half wall enclosing it, so the dining area is basically open to the jungle. I have to admit, it looks like a nice place to eat, sitting right there looking out at the layers of green.

“Ooo, pretty!” Roo says, and at first I think she means the big barrels of flowers placed throughout the courtyard, which are overflowing with red and orange and purple blossoms. But then I notice
that she’s pointing at the little neon-green lizards painted on the orange doors. So I guess it’s not
quite
like any ugly old motel. But still.

Ken/Neth is yanking some papers out of his computer bag and flipping through them and making exasperated sounds. He’s very talented at looking totally discombobulated (one of Dad’s favorite words).

“Aha!” he says after a moment, holding up a piece of paper. “Here we are. Mad and Roo are in room number four, and Sylvia’s in number five, and I’m in number eight. I’ll just run and get us checked in.”

“You’re staying here, Ken?” Mom says, surprised. “You don’t need to do that. You should stay at La Lava.”

“Hey,” Ken/Neth says, grinning, “anywhere that doesn’t want kids doesn’t want me!”

I can’t help smiling—which bugs me, but hey, he’s got a point there. I look over at Roo to exchange a giggle, but she’s staring at the pool.

“Very cute,” Mom says, “but I really don’t want to inconvenience you. You should stay wherever you usually stay when you come here for work.”

“My most important work is to keep you ladies company. The best job ever! La Lava wants you to have an excellent time while you’re here, so I should be as close as possible.”

“As you like,” Mom says, gently shrugging. “Where’s the front desk, then?”

“Pool, pool, pool?” Roo says hungrily.

As Mom and Ken/Neth go to check in and Roo runs over to dip her toe in the pool, I stroll toward room number four—and suddenly realize that the little neon-green lizards aren’t painted onto the orange doors. They’re actual, honest-to-goodness, living,
breathing neon-green lizards that scatter as I approach. I’m pretty proud of myself for not screaming.

Roo and I are already pulling on our Speedos in our room (there’s a bunk bed—weird for a hotel, but still cool, I guess) when Mom bursts through the door, half yelling “
Surprise!
” and holding up a pair of brand-new two-piece bathing suits—red polka dots for Roo and green stripes for me. She herself is wearing a maroon bikini I’ve never seen before. Actually, I’ve never seen Mom in
any
kind of bikini. She’s always worn a navy-blue one-piece swimsuit. And she’s always said that women who wear bikinis are silly, because bikinis fall off so easily that they’re useless for swimming, and no daughter of hers was going to wear such absurd swimwear. When I remind her of all that, she just says, “Oh, lighten up, Mad! We need to have some fun finally. This is an exciting day.” Meanwhile Roo’s already pulled her Speedo off and is tugging her bathing suit bottom on and waggling her red-polka-dotted bum. I leave the new green-striped two-piece on the concrete floor beside our bunk bed and stay in my good old gray Speedo.

Before Mom and Roo and I are even settled into our lawn chairs at the pool, Ken/Neth brings Mom a pink drink with a pink umbrella in it. She looks like a lady on a postcard, lying there beside the pool at the Selva Lodge with her pretty drink and big sunglasses and straw hat (even though the lawn chair is sagging and some of the plastic strands have snapped).

“Isn’t this great, Sylvia!” Ken/Neth says in his peppy way. “You look so happy. Relaxed. Madame Librarian, away from all those dang books. You’ve sure earned this.”

I can agree with Ken/Neth on that one at least. Ever since The Weirdness began, Mom’s lips have had this squeezed look to them,
and right now they don’t. Actually, it’s a pretty big relief to look at Mom and not see squeezed lips.

Next Ken/Neth quizzes me and Roo about whether or not we know what
selva
means.

“It means
jungle
, Ken,” Roo says as though she’s never been so bored in her entire life.

“Well,” Ken/Neth says cheerily, pretending Roo wasn’t just rude to him, “I guess I’ll head over to La Lava now!”

“Where’s
Dad
?” Roo says, her tone still rude.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing him very, very, very soon,” Ken/Neth promises. Then adds, “
Adiós, amigos
. Or should I say
ami
gas.”

Ken/Neth heads out of the pool area toward the parking lot, so at last it’s just me and Mom and Roo. My Three Girls, as Dad called us. And boy, does it ever feel great being with my sister and my mom and no Ken/Neth, the three of us just lying here on lawn chairs relaxing in the sun, but then of course Roo jumps up and cannonballs into the pool. I don’t feel like getting in. It’s a hot, hot day and the pool water just feels warm and soggy. Mom reaches over to hold my hand. She smells like coconuts. It’s comforting to feel her strong, familiar hand. Her palm is a bit wet with sweat, but so what. It’s nice to know that Mom’s hand is still Mom’s hand, even after The Weirdness and everything. I’m glad we’re at the Selva Lodge, where I don’t have to worry about anyone I know seeing me hold my mom’s hand even though I’m almost thirteen. Soon, though, Mom falls asleep and her hand slips limply out of mine, which makes me feel kind of lonely.

Roo’s in the shallow end of the pool, playing some sort of underwater headstand game with these kids who don’t speak English. Or Spanish. Or any language I know of. I can’t tell where they’re from. Mom smiled at the other parents in greeting, but we haven’t heard anyone speaking English since we got to the Selva Lodge.

“Don’t you wish this was our own private pool?” I said to Roo earlier.

“Kind of,” Roo said, but I could tell she didn’t. She likes other people. Wherever she goes, Roo always has oodles of friends. Sometimes I’ve been jealous of her, but mostly I just admire her for being that way.

“Rooooo!” I howl loud enough that she can hear me underwater. “Come here!” Because she loves me, she clambers up out of the pool. As she pitter-patters over to me, I tell her, “You’re getting sunburned!” Which is not exactly true. She does look a tiny bit pink, but mainly I just want her to play with me and not with Random Kid #7.

“Okay,” I order, holding up a towel. “Dry yourself off. Then I’ll put some sunblock on your back.”

“Mom put tons of stuff on me already,” Roo protests, but at the same time she obediently turns her back to me.

It makes me feel right at home, to be hanging out with Roo and taking care of her. It’s my favorite activity, being Roo’s sister.

“Uh-oh,” I say as I squirt the last globs of coconut sunblock into my hand. “It’s all gone.”

I knew all along that we were almost out of sunblock, and knew that this would mean we’d have to go to the souvenir shop to buy more, and knew that going to the souvenir shop with Roo would be fun.