How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied (4 page)

Clicking my laptop, I found Liv's name and waited for her to answer. The smell of chocolate wafted to my nose, making my stomach growl.

Riiiinnnnnngggg!

I edged closer to my screen. I wonder what kind of cupcake Liv would have? Cupcakes must be easy to find there, right? Maybe they had weird New Zealandy flavors? I uncapped my lip gloss and slicked some on.

Riiinnnnnnngggg!

Grinning to myself, I imagined what life would be like once she was back home. We would have a whole summer to hang out. The last summer before eighth grade. It would be
epic
. Now where
was
she?

Riiinnnnnnngggg!

A white bubble popped up on my screen.

My jaw dropped. There had to be some sort of mistake. I clicked exit and started the program again. Glitches happen all the time. I ignored the menacing feeling in my gut. So long as we made our wish at the same time together, it would still be okay. There was plenty of my half-birthday left.

But Liv didn't answer the time after that.

Or the time after that.

Tears began to fill my eyes as I stared at my cupcake.

“Hello?” I said to no one. The walls around me felt like they were squishing in closer and closer.

“Talking to yourself, weirdo?” Daz popped into my room.

I wiped my eyes hastily. “Get out of here! I'm talking to Liv!” I lowered my laptop screen, but kept it open just in case she showed up. It had been twenty minutes now. This didn't make any sense. Liv is one of those people who shows up early to
everything
.

Daz nodded. “Liv looks a lot different than I remember her. Much hairier.” He gestured to my desktop background, with one of Mom's photos of her lions staring back at us. “Ooh, cupcakes,” he said, snatching the one in the wrapper. He offered a piece to the snake around his neck before wolfing it down.

“Who said that was for you?” I exclaimed. “Why are you even here?” I looked sadly at the screen again. Still no Liv.

Daz opened his eyes wide and did his best to look innocent. Which, given that he is my brother, is totally unbelievable and phony. Daz could be comatose and he still wouldn't be innocent.

He held up his hands. “Hey, I just got home and heard you babbling to yourself,” he said. “I figured I'd make sure you hadn't lost your marbles.” He licked his lips, sending crumbs dropping to his shirt and bouncing off the snake's pink-striped body.

“It's my half-birthday,” I said halfheartedly. The tears were coming back again, but I did my best to not blink them out. “We were…we were supposed to wish.” I pointed feebly to the screen.
Why
had she not shown up? It was becoming too real now. The disappointment felt like a heavy, smothering blanket over me.

He perked up. “It's your half-birthday? If it's your half-birthday, that means it's also
my
half-birthday. Happy half-birthday to us!” He grabbed the other cupcake in front of me and gulped it down in one disgusting bite. “Hey, don't forget Mom said it's our turn to do dishes tonight. Not it!” He bounded out into the hall before I could respond.

I glared at my laptop. You'd think that being twins, we'd have
something
in common. But Daz is
such
an alien. What do you expect from someone named Daz? If he were at Hogwarts, he'd totally be a Slytherin, while I'd be stuck in Hufflepuff or the other one that nobody remembers.

“Whatever,” I huffed. I opened up a new tab to start an e-mail.

Dear Liv.

No. That didn't sound nearly serious enough. Why wasn't she here right now so we could wish her home already?! I deleted the line and started again.

HEY. It's after school and I'm wondering where you are. I thought we had our cupcake wish planned? Are you okay? If you get this in time, find me tonight and we can still make our wish!

I hit the send button hard.

“BRAACK! WHATEVER!” Darwin squawked. His feathers bristled as he shook his wings out.

Hello, my name is Ana, and I am completely, totally, and most definitely alone.

“Cheetahs are the only cats that can't retract their claws.”

—Animal Wisdom

When it was finally time for dinner that night, I felt like a flea on a grizzly. Completely small and overwhelmed. I still hadn't heard from Liv, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure out what could be so important to keep her from our wish. Didn't she want to come home?

“Look, Ana!
Look!
”

I stopped doodling a picture of a moldy cupcake and looked at Daz across the table. He had a pair of ancient iPod earbuds up his nose.

“Now watch!” He hit play on the device and opened his mouth wide. Music began to play, the loud riffs of some angry punk band pumping out of his mouth like it was a radio.

“Your mouth becomes a speaker! How cool is that?” His eyes shone with excitement as I glared at his open mouth. Sometimes, it was like he was four years younger instead of four minutes. There should be an exchange policy on brothers.

“Hello, you two.” Mom sauntered in and sat at the table. She looked quizzically at Daz, who had stuck the buds back into his nose and was opening and closing his mouth like a guppy. She blinked and shook her head. She should—
she
made him.

As usual, Mom was decked out in her safari gear. Don't get me wrong, she's actually seriously pretty with dirty blond hair and gray eyes. And even though she's old, like forty, she only looks about thirty-five or so. At least she does when her hair is washed and not covered in some ridiculous safari hat. But, because of their work, both she and Dad look sort of weird. Picture an African safari guide, only with a zoo badge and handheld radios. My dad even has to carry a gun some days! So what if it's a tranquilizer gun? Nobody has to know that.

“What were your highs and lows today?” She looked at each of us with bright eyes.

Daz spoke first. “My high was finding the lost treasure of Atlantis.” He grinned, ignoring Mom's skeptical eyebrow. “And my low was losing it down a sewer. Now the world will never know, Mother. It will never know…” He shook his head mournfully.

What a clown.

“And you?” She turned to me.

I swallowed thickly. “My low was having a special video chat with Liv, and…” I could barely say the words. “And she missed it.”

Mom's face softened. “That's too bad, hun. I'm sure she didn't mean it, and she's got to be busy with the move. She'll probably call you tomorrow,” she said, getting up to stir the bubbling pot of pasta sauce.

Yeah. Too bad tomorrow would be too late for our awesome wish. I swear, if there were a place called Bright Side, my mother would be queen. Complete with a little crown of stars and glitter and happy unicorns of opportunity.

“Hey, gang,” Dad said, shuffling into the kitchen. He threw his hat on the back of his chair and doled out our plates, followed by a handful of mismatched cutlery. That's when the blast of a musical car horn made me practically jump out of my skin.

“What the heck?” Daz said, scurrying from his chair to look out the front window. “Mom! Mom, come look!” he yelled, yanking back the curtains. Electric blue and red lights flashed through the window, sending streams of color along the wall.

“Is that the police? Henry, go see what's going on,” Mom said, looking stricken. Dad shoved his chair out from the table and headed for the front door.

“No!” Daz yelled from the living room. “I think it's…”

I pushed him out of the way, trying to get a better look. A giant, Caribbean-blue RV trailer was parked outside our house, with steel drum music pumping through the speakers mounted on top. The words “Shep Foster's Wild Across America Tour” were plastered to the side of the RV in hot pink lettering.

“It can't be,” I whispered. Fear choked my throat, and I had to clutch the curtain to stay upright. No, no, no, no, please, a million times no to this.

Just then, the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off.

“Jane!” Dad yelled from the door. “It's Shep! It's your father! And some woman!”

Daz took another look out the window and gasped, then raced up to his room.

“Daz, where are you going? Get back down here and see your grandfather!” Now it was Mom's turn to yell. She grabbed my hand and thrust me out the front door. I winced at the blasting music. The whole street was looking now, with neighbors peeking out from behind their curtains. “Go say hi and help them in,” she hissed. “I've got to deal with that darn smoke alarm.” She bustled back to the kitchen.

At that moment, I would have rather been in that burning pot of noodles than standing on the porch.

Ugh. I suppose I should mention that my grandfather is pretty much a celebrity. He's a naturalist, sort of like my mom and dad, but instead of working at a zoo, he travels all over making movies and documentaries about animals. Sometimes he does really crazy stuff, like swim with great whites without a cage and sleep in rattlesnake-infested deserts.

For
fun.

He once filmed a reality television series about how long he could live in the jungle with his latest girlfriend without either of them succumbing to malaria or death by leaf-cutter ants.
TV
Guide
gave it a great review. Top that off with the fact that he's had more dates than Prince Harry, and you've got yourself an A-list grandpa. The last I heard he was dating some actress from Hollywood or something. At least that's what the tabloid said. I just knew I was lucky that nobody at school had figured out I was related to him, since we have Dad's last name instead of his.

He got to me before I could run. Maybe it was the years of working with venomous snakes and snapping crocodiles, but my grandpa is always pretty quick on his feet. He was on the porch before I could say anything and swept me up in a hug, squashing me with his strong arms.

“My Ana banana. It is so good to see you!” He held me back by the shoulders to get a better look at my face. His deep tan was set off by the bright flowers and dolphins on his shirt. “You've gotten so
tall
. Must take after her mother, huh? Ha ha! Sugar! Take a look at my gorgeous granddaughter!” His laugh echoed under our porch ceiling and out through the street. He grabbed me by the cheeks and planted a big kiss on my forehead. The smell of woodsy cologne wafted around me. But Grandpa wasn't alone.

I tried to stop my eyes from bugging out at the blond woman who tottered up our driveway in bright red stilettos. She looked about seven feet tall, six of which were just her legs. Her miniskirt was deep blue and sequined, and she wore a black lace tank top over her (how do I put this?)
ample
chest. She looked like a mermaid from Las Vegas.

“She
is
gorgeous!” she trilled, appraising my T-shirt and cutoffs as she clicked up the stairs. (Clearly this woman was a liar.)

She paused for a moment to reach down and pull a chunk of grass from her heel and beamed her dazzling white teeth at me. “It's fab to meet you, Ana. Shep never stops talkin' about y'all.” She sounded like a character from those western movies Dad likes. Her head shook like a bobblehead so fast that I was afraid she'd lose the large diamond studs in her earlobes.

I stared at her, desperately wishing that the neighbors would stop watching. Fat chance of that.

“Hi. Thanks,” I said, grasping blindly behind me for the doorknob. “You guys should come inside. You must be”—I eyed Leggy McSequins timidly—“hungry?”

She looked like she'd be full after one M&M.

“Oh, yes,” my grandpa said. “You guys go ahead, and I'll give the camera crew directions to the hotel. Plenty of time for all that soon enough—I want to catch up with my family!” He slapped me on the back and hopped down to the lawn toward the RV, leaving Leggy staring at me.

I desperately wanted to shove her inside before we attracted any more attention. Some neighbors had stepped out onto their porches now, watching the chaos unfold.

“I'm sorry, but he called you ‘Sugar'—I don't know your actual name,” I said, slamming the door behind us and pulling the thin curtain over the window. Dad followed behind us.

She giggled and plopped her tiny green handbag onto the small table by the front door. “It
is
Sugar, silly. Sweet as candy, 'cept I won't give you a cavity!” She nudged me with her shoulder.

Good Lord.

I gritted my teeth and swiveled around to check for Mom.

There was a loud crash and then Mom emerged from the kitchen with a towel on her shoulder and a waft of thick smoke billowing out around her. She tripped as she noticed Sugar, who lit up like a Christmas tree.

“You must be Jane!” Sugar cooed, rushing over to grip Mom in a tight hug. Mom stood rigidly and patted her on the back awkwardly, a messy spoon in her hand.

“Let's take this party to the dining room,” Dad said, nudging for me to grab some extra plates and cutlery. “Never a dull moment when your grandfather arrives,” he said dryly, giving me a wink.

“Great idea, Henry. Sugar, you and Dad are welcome to join us for dinner,” she said, tidying her messy hair. “Daz!” she called out, eyeing the stairs angrily. “Get
down
here and say hello to your grandpa and his…girlfriend.” She ushered us all into the dining room with a look of determination in her eyes. It was the same look she wore when she had to deal with angry lions.

A few minutes later, I helped Mom scoop spaghetti and sauce onto our plates and listened while Grandpa started up with the adventure stories from his tour.

“I'm not kidding, Henry—he was forty-two feet long! Right there in the middle of the river! The whole village was lucky not to have been eaten by the dang thing!”

Sugar was beside me, nodding gravely at the thought of a forty-two-foot-long snake.

Right when my mom was about to yell for him again, Daz sauntered in. And boy, did he look like a moron.

His usual wacky hair had been gelled down, leaving only a flip of hair above his forehead spiking forward. He had also replaced his death metal T-shirt with a blue-and-white-striped button-up that he only wears on the rare occasion Mom drags us to a fancy gala for the zoo. I caught his eye and shook my head in disappointment.

My own brother, gone to the dark side.

“Hey, Grandpa,” he said casually, sliding into his seat and straightening out his plate. He nodded at Grandpa, then turned to Sugar, who was sitting beside me, checking her teeth in a spoon.

“And you must be?” He gave her a crooked smile and shoved his arm in front of my face to reach hers. He sounded weird to me, then I realized it was probably because he was lowering his voice a couple of octaves, so he sounded like a croaky frog. I doubted he could keep it up.

Mom cleared her throat and looked at my dad, who did nothing but pile some spaghetti onto his plate. “This is Sugar, Daz,” she said, giving his new hair the “are-you-an-idiot?” look.

Sugar giggled and reached out to clasp Daz's hand, but instead of keeping her thumb up like a normal person, it was more of a dainty finger-drape sort of handshake.

“I beg your pardon, young man?” Grandpa sputtered. “You don't see me for years and now all of a sudden you're ‘Hey, Grandpa-ing' me? I don't think so!” Grandpa shoved out of his chair, and to Daz's horror, snatched him right up from his chair into a totally nonmanly hug. He ruffled his hair under his fist and laughed. “That's much better. Good to see you, son.” He let Daz go and chuckled at the state of his hair. Now he looked like he'd been electrocuted.

That'll teach him.

“DAZ IS A PAIN!” Darwin nattered, shimmying on his perch as he watched us eat. I choked on a mouthful of spaghetti, trying not to laugh. I'd taught him that little gem in less than a week.

Grandpa swiveled to look at him, nodding with appreciation. “I like this bird.” He gestured to Darwin with his thumb. Darwin clicked his beak happily at him.

“So how did you and Sugar meet?” Daz asked, which caused Sugar to perk up with another dazzling smile.

“It's such a darling story, isn't it, dear?” She batted her eyes at Grandpa. I glanced at Mom, who looked as grossed out as I felt.

“I was in Hollywood for an audition,” she said.

An actress. Surprise!

Daz piped in, “You're an actress! That's great. I bet you'll be super famous one day.” He nodded wildly and practically frothed at the mouth.

Sugar touched her chest and bowed her head at him with a little giggle. “So, the audition went fine”—she leaned to my mom like she had a secret and said—“although I never did get it. They gave the part to some
floozy.
” She waved at the air with a manicured nail. “Anyways! What was I saying? Right! Well, who would believe it, but I broke one of my heels on the pavement on the way out!”

Daz looked shocked. “Oh no…that's terrible!”

I shot him a look as Sugar continued. He was such a dolt.

“And your grandpa saw me, hobbling along outside the studio, looking as disheveled as a popsicle in July…”

Dad raised his eyebrows at Mom.

“And he just appeared out of nowhere and scooped me up in his arms! Said he couldn't bear to see such a pretty girl hobbling along the street with one shoe on!” She turned to him with glassy eyes. “Shep's so thoughtful.” She grinned at him and reached out to touch his cheek, a rock the size of a small planet perched on her middle finger.

Oh, please. Grandpa randomly picks her up,
literally
, without even knowing her? I'd have called the cops if some guy tried that.

Grandpa grinned at her, then looked back at Mom. Her jaw was clenched, and she was blinking so fast I was sure I'd see smoke. Daz, on the other hand, was so enthralled with Sugar's story that he didn't even notice his mouth had been hanging open the entire time. I kicked him under the table, but he just spit quietly on his palms and ran them through his hair again.