Snap (9 page)

The water hit her face like a slap and suddenly everything around her was cold and wet and heavy. Her hair came loose from its bun and was quickly weighted down with water, until it was like an anchor strapped to her neck. Working her arms and legs through the treacherous river was like trying to fight a wall. It zapped her of her strength within seconds. Still, Danya pushed onward. The water clouded her vision until she couldn't see a thing and it plugged her ears, making everything around her sound much too close, and so far away.

All at once the river grew calmer, and there were fewer rocks and sticks poking up from its depths. Danya blinked and the water in her eyes cleared. She worked her arms through the river and soared forward, almost like she had a motor fixed to the seat of her pants. Quickly, she swam over to Pia, wrapped her arms around her, and lifted her from the waves.

Pia's blue lips trembled, and she blinked, her eyes unfocused. When she was finally able to see, she looked not at Danya, but at the sky beyond her head.

“Thanks, Sancho,” Pia muttered.

Danya frowned, confused. Had Pia inhaled so much water she'd gotten Danya and her pony confused? Then, suddenly, it dawned on her. Holding tight to Pia, Danya looked over her shoulder.

Sancho was just behind her, his tiny legs kicking wildly through the water, the life jackets buoying him up in the waves. He held the collar of Danya's sweater firmly between his teeth. He was the reason it was suddenly easier to swim. He was the reason Danya could soar through the waves with ease.

Danya reached up and wiped Sancho's sopping-wet mane out of his eyes. She felt a rush of emotion toward him—gratitude, love, relief that she hadn't lost him. Together the three adventurers swam to the other shore and climbed onto dry land, coughing up river water and gasping for breath. Danya collapsed onto the beach and spread her arms and legs, almost like she was making a snow angel.

When she could finally breathe, she sat up and wrapped her arms around Sancho's neck, her small fingers getting caught in the pony's wet mane.

“You saved my life!” she shouted. Sancho licked her head—she could feel his scratchy tongue all the way through her wet curls. She hugged him tight, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. There was only one other time Danya had come so close to losing Sancho—on the day of the fire, the day the ground in her backyard burned black. Danya squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force the memory out of her head, but instead it just became more vivid, almost like she was reliving it all over again. She remembered seeing the flames lick at the sky as she and Sancho raced for the stable. The fire had scared him and he'd reared—just like he had on the boat. But Danya could hear Jupiña whinnying. She'd slid off Sancho's back and raced across the yard, but before she could reach the stable, she'd stumbled and fallen, scraping her knee on a root poking up from the yard. . . .

Sancho licked Danya on the side of her face, drawing her out of the memory. Behind them, Pia had made a full recovery. She jumped to her feet and began bouncing in place.

“Man, what a rush!” she shouted. “We should do that every week!”

Danya didn't exactly agree, but she was still so thrilled to be alive that she didn't argue. She only knew that she was done with tiny speedboats and whitewater rapids, at least for now. Danya stood, and her hands went immediately to her back pocket to feel for the sandwich bag.

The pocket was empty. Their money was gone!

A sharp, raw pain cut through Danya like a knife. But even as the tears pricked at her eyes, she couldn't help thinking . . .

Suffer a great loss.

Danya shook her head, wondering for the first time if Pia was right. Without the money, they certainly were lost.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Elvis Goes to White Castle

D
anya and Pia
stood at the bank as Simone, Karina, and the rest of the Golden Girls Adventurers cut the engine of the boat.

“Thank goodness! Are you little ladies okay?” Karina flitted around the front of the boat and steered it toward them with the intention of docking. During the last portion of the trip, the river had grown considerably calmer, and the old ladies bobbed along in their speedboat, the light breeze tugging at the ruffles on their swimsuits. Danya felt like the breeze tugged at her heart, too. They looked so worried for her and Pia! Karina's face was white as a sheet, and Simone looked like she was about to faint. Danya waved at them sadly.

“We're fine! Go on without us!” she called back.

“Nonsense! We couldn't leave you behind . . .” Simone yelled, fussing about with the ropes at the front of the boat. “Once you three get back on, it'll be smooth sailing from here!”

“What do you two think?” Danya asked, turning to Sancho and Pia. The river had slicked Sancho's mane against his head so only his two little golden brown ears were sticking up. They shivered when the wind blew, and he whinnied softly.

“Your call, Snap,” Pia said. “It's an adventure either way. But there
is
undiscovered territory to be explored. . . .” She motioned behind them to the dirt path alongside the river. A sign sticking out of the dirt read
MEMPHIS CITY LIMITS
. “Besides, we're already in Memphis—if we keep going, we could grab another ride in the city.”

Danya considered the sign. Pia was probably right—it made more sense to head for the city than to risk their lives continuing downstream.

“No, really,” Danya called back to Karina, “we're close to home now! But thank you for the adventure! Thank you for
everything
!”

Karina waved back. “If you're sure,” she shouted, “then you're welcome, little free spirit!”

“Good luck!” Simone called. At least Danya
thought
that's what she said. The wind snatched at Simone's voice, and all Danya heard was the word
luck
echoing over the roar of the water.

Danya was so happy to be on dry land, she didn't even mind the dirt and sticks still clinging to her wet hair and clothes. Sancho nudged her arm. He, too, looked wet and tired.

“Oh, buddy! Are you cold?” Danya stood and wrapped her arms around Sancho's neck, rubbing her hands up and down his sides to warm him. He nuzzled into her shoulder, shivering.

Unlike Danya, Pia seemed energized by their brush with death. She hopped up and down, unable to keep still. Danya pulled the waterlogged map out of her back pocket, and Pia peered over her shoulder.

“Come on! Race you to the path.”

Danya raised an eyebrow. She only now realized how exhausted she was, and after that swim she wasn't even sure she could stand. She knew they had to keep going—she could still hear that insistent
tick tick tick
in the back of her head—but she was having a hard time making her arms and legs move.

“You can have the first turn riding Sancho,” Pia offered.

“Riding Sancho sounds good,” Danya said. The girls loaded him up with their sopping wet bags, then they took turns ducking behind a tree to change. The clothes in Danya's backpack were damp with river water, but they were clean and dryer than the ones she was already wearing, so she pulled them on. At least it was warm out. She'd be dry again in no time.

Danya climbed onto Sancho's back, and Pia took the reins and led Sancho toward a beaten dirt road that cut through the waist-high grass lining the river. Hills rose in the distance, covered with fuzzy green trees that reminded Danya of the piles of broccoli at her father's friend Mr. Martinez's vegetable stand. She wrestled her curls into a ponytail as she rode. The river water and wind had frizzed her hair, and fuzzy tendrils kept blowing into her eyes and tickling the back of her neck.

As the sun fell lower in the sky, a silvery fog settled over the river and trees. Before long it started to get dark, and Danya began to think about her parents. She'd been away from them for almost a full day now. What were they doing? Were they sitting at home, waiting for her to call? Or were they actually on the road plastering missing persons posters all over the highway, maybe helping the police in their search? The thought made Danya feel terrible.

Then, not far off in the distance, Danya saw a faint line of light. They drew closer, and she realized the light was coming from a city—Memphis! Skyscrapers jutted toward the clouds like steel mountains, and Danya could see the lit-up arches of a massive bridge stretching across the river. Just ahead was a huge, pyramid-shaped building. In the dusky early evening, the entire city looked bathed in gold.

Pia spun in place giddily, and even Sancho seemed to stand a little straighter. His hair had dried during the walk and it puffed up around his head, made bigger by the humidity in the air. He kept shaking his head to get the strands out of his eyes, and Danya wished she had an extra ponytail holder to give him. She giggled out loud at that:
Pony
tail holder.

“What's so funny?” Pia asked. Danya explained her joke, and Pia actually groaned out loud, punching her playfully on the arm. Even Sancho whickered, and Danya thought it sounded like he was laughing.

“Now I'm going to think of that every time I put my hair in a ponytail,” Pia said. Danya giggled again and ran a hand over Pia's short, wiry curls.

“When do you ever put your hair in a ponytail?” she asked.

“Good point. Look, we're almost there!” Pia said, smiling her wide, missing-tooth smile. Eventually the little dirt road merged with a busy, paved street, and the dried grass and trees became buildings and fast food places and streetlights. The smell of fried food drifted out of the restaurants and made Danya's mouth water. She swallowed her hunger, thinking of all the money they—no,
she
—had lost. Along the way she and Pia counted up what change they had left. It came to just seventy-three cents, and that was including a Canadian quarter and a button that kind of looked like a penny.

“Snap? Hey, Snap? Are you in there? Can you hear me?” Pia snapped her fingers just inches from Danya's face.

Danya shook her head. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“What do you think this means?” Pia held up the Ferdinand and Dapple book and pointed to the next item on the hero's task list:
6. Offer your service on a royal mission
.
“It can't mean real royalty, right?” Pia wrinkled her nose. “There isn't any real royalty in Memphis.”

“Pia . . .” Danya pressed her lips together, trying not to let her frustration creep into her voice. “I think it's more important that we find something to eat, don't you?”

She was sure Pia was going to argue, but instead Pia sighed and nodded. “You're right. I'm starving.”

Danya pulled Sancho's reins, and the three of them started down the street, peeking into the windows of every fast food place they walked past. Danya's stomach rumbled every time she caught the smell of french fries or fried chicken, and several times she ducked inside to see whether she and Pia could afford to buy anything. But even the cheapest items at the cheapest places cost at least a dollar.

The good news was that no one in Memphis had recognized them, and Danya didn't see any Amber Alerts anywhere. Maybe news of their disappearance hadn't reached Memphis yet. Or maybe Pia was right—maybe Simone thinking she recognized them was a fluke and Danya really was being paranoid.

“Maybe we can search the street for quarters?” Danya suggested after peering through another three restaurant windows.

Pia shook her head. “Snap,
look
!” She pointed to the fluorescent white sign glowing next door, the words
WHITE CASTLE
written in blue across it.

“What, the sign?”

“The
sign
—exactly!” Pia said. “The next item on the list is about royalty, and that place is called White
Castle
. It's a sign!”

“That's a fast food restaurant, Pia,” Danya said. The building was squat and grayish, surrounded by trim, rounded shrubberies. Cheesy turrets were carved into the low roof. It didn't look very royal to her.

“It's better than nothing,” Pia said, dragging her toward the entrance.

A man pushed open the door to the castle, and the heavy, greasy smell of hamburgers and french fries wafted out. Danya closed her eyes and breathed in the scent. Her stomach rumbled painfully.

“Fine,” Danya said. “You never know, right? Maybe we can split a small fries.”

They tied Sancho up just outside, and he immediately plopped down and started munching on one of the shrubberies. The girls walked into the castle. It was empty, except for a table of Japanese tourists just next to the door. Or at least Danya assumed they were tourists because of their cameras and maps. They all looked like they were sixteen or seventeen, with multicolored hair gelled and sprayed into the strangest shapes. They wore platform shoes and shiny black pants. Their table was covered with hamburger wrappers and little, colored scraps of paper that they were folding into interesting shapes.

One of the tourists looked up and made a tiny paper frog wave. Danya smiled, then looked quickly away, feeling shy. She walked up to the counter and waited as a large man wearing a grease-stained apron walked over to her.

“Welcome to White Castle,” he said, scratching his wobbly belly. “Would you like to try our ten-stack combo meal?”

“No . . . um . . .” Danya's stomach gave a rumble that nearly shook the counter. She gripped her coins so tightly, she could feel them leaving marks in her skin. “Do you have anything we could buy for seventy-five cents?”

The man with the greasy apron frowned. “Cheapest item is the small fries and that's a dollar.”

Danya felt like crying, but she forced a smile. “Thanks anyway,” she said. She tucked a frizzy curl back behind one ear and turned to Pia. “No luck.”

Pia frowned. “What about the royal mission?”

“Pia . . .” This time, Danya didn't bother to keep the irritation from her voice.

“Five minutes,” Pia said, making a cross over her chest. “Just to scope the place out.”

While Pia circled the restaurant, as if intending to find a king hiding under a table, Danya walked over to the table behind the Japanese teenagers. She tried to ignore the delicious smell of frying potatoes and meat. When her hunger grew too strong, she lowered her head to her hands and clenched her eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” A girl from the other table swiveled around and leaned over the back of her booth. Though her English was perfect, her voice held the hint of an accent—she spoke the words just a little too carefully. Danya lifted her head.

“I'm fine,” she said, smiling weakly.

The girl had shiny black hair and straight bangs. She wore a short black dress with a floppy bow tied at the collar. Maybe this will make you feel better,” she said, picking up a piece of yellow paper and quickly folding it into a little frog, which she set in front of Danya.
“Ribbit ribbit . . .”
she croaked, making the frog hop across the table.

Danya couldn't help but laugh. She temporarily forgot about the hunger pains shooting through her stomach. “Can you show me how to do that?”

The girl—whose name was Eiko—invited Danya over to her table, and she and her friends showed Danya how to fold the multicolored scraps of paper into all different shapes: hearts and swans and cranes and frogs. When Eiko saw Danya eyeing their tray of hamburgers, fries, and milk shakes, she pushed it toward her.

“You are hungry? You should eat,” she said.

Danya didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed a hamburger from the tray and shoved it into her mouth. She caught Pia's eye across the restaurant, and Pia bolted over. The girls ate happily while the tourists told them all about their trip.

“We are break-dancers,” Eiko explained. There were two other girls at the table with her—Chi and Kyo. Chi had pink-and-red-tipped black hair that she'd gelled up into swooping spikes so it looked like flames. Kyo's hair, on the other hand, was shaggy and short and bright blue. She also had a nose ring and wore a strange, black mesh tank top over a blue sports bra the same color as her hair.

“Our crew, it is very big in Japan,” Kyo explained. She spoke haltingly, her English not quite as good as Eiko's. “But we want to be American stars.”

Chi giggled and folded a swan, which she tucked into Pia's hair. “You look so pretty. I love your hair,” she said, poking at Pia's short, spiky curls. Pia smiled and slurped her milk shake while Danya picked apart her hamburgers, saving the lettuce and tomatoes for Sancho.

Pia and Danya were just finishing up their french fries when the doors to White Castle swung open and a man walked in.