Zoe in Wonderland (13 page)

The Baobabs—Still Nothing

I
yawned and stretched. It was the first week of winter break.

Three Awesome Things About Winter Break

1. No school.
   
2. No school.
   
3. No school.
   

Tomorrow, Adam and his family were leaving for Paris (where his grandparents live) for Christmas. Lucky Adam.

And Quincy was coming to stay at our house for the whole week after Christmas.

Extremely lucky Zoe.

Every day, Jade's friends had been in and out of the house from morning to night. I did my best to avoid them.

Harper spent most of his time in the garage, still working on his science projects. “My scholarship to MIT or Cal Tech is a done deal,” he'd been bragging.

“Won't be long before Quincy is here,” Daddy reminded me as I helped him out in the nursery.

“I know,” I said, and thanked him for letting him come for a whole week.

The nursery door opened and four customers came in at once. Lately, business had been good. “Better than ever,” I'd heard Daddy say. Every year at this time, people flocked to the Wonderland to buy our living Christmas trees and poinsettias and plants to give as gifts. And as usual, we got our share of people thinking we had real reindeer at the Wonderland. During Christmastime, Daddy wears a red-and-white Santa hat.

Fake lit-up reindeer lined the driveway. Twinkling Christmas lights were strung everywhere.

Money seemed to be pouring in. Daddy had sold some more of his exotic plants and trees to landscape architects and made enough to fix his truck. Mom and Daddy seemed happy again. No one was talking about selling the Wonderland or moving to any kind of flower farm in another state or especially to New Zealand.

“Merry Christmas,” Daddy told the customers.

“Merry Christmas,” they replied.

I'd been hoping that by now at least one of the baobabs might have sprouted. It was what I'd planned to give Daddy for Christmas. Online, I'd learned that they shouldn't be overwatered. I kept wishing I'd read the directions so they would have sprouted by now. Maybe I'd ruined them.

For a while, except for the Christmas music playing softly, the nursery was quiet. But then someone opened the door, sounding the chime. I peeked through the shelves. Ben Rakotomalala ducked inside.

I stopped everything and practically bolted toward him.

His big smile seemed even bigger. “Zoe! My friend!”

“Can I help you?” Daddy asked. He had a puzzled look.

I made the introduction. “This is Ben, Daddy.”

“The man who gave you the book?”

“Yes.”

“First book I've seen her read because she actually wanted to in a long, long time. Thank you, Mister . . . ?”

“Rakotomalala,” I blurted.

“Ben will suffice,” the tall man from Madagascar said.

Daddy stretched out his hand for Ben to shake. “Darrow . . . Darrow Reindeer.”

They smiled and shook hands.

Ben placed a package wrapped in brown paper on the counter.

I eyed it. Looks like another book, I thought. I hope it's for me.

“Just stopped in to bring this Christmas gift for Zoe. I hope that's okay.”

I ran my hand over the package. “It's another book, huh?”

“Yes. By Carl Sagan,” Ben replied. “He has a rather famous quote that I love. ‘We have lingered long enough on the shores of the cosmic ocean. We are ready at last to set sail for the stars.' I believe that to be true.”

More and more these days, I discovered, I was feeling less and less shy—first with Adam and now with Ben.

“Thank you, Ben,” I said.

“That's very kind of you,” Daddy told him.

“Oh . . . before I forget . . . I also came by to check and see if you have that special item I've been waiting for,” Ben added.

Oh no! It's supposed to be a surprise! BQ! Please!

“Special item?” Daddy asked.

“Yes—”

I nudged Ben with my elbow and looked sideways at my daddy. “It's a surprise . . . a Christmas surprise!” I pressed my finger to my lips.

From the look on both of their faces, I could tell they understood. Ben grinned and Daddy's eyes twinkled.

Whew! That was close. “We might have it after Christmas, if you want to come back,” I said.

“After Christmas, then. I'll look forward to it.”

Daddy extended his hand to Mr. Rakotomalala a second time. “Good meeting you, Ben.” But this time they shook hands like friends.

“Happy holidays, Darrow and Zoe Reindeer!” Ben bellowed.

“Merry Christmas,” Daddy and I replied happily.

The door chimed and the tall man from Madagascar ducked outside into the Wonderland.

I picked up my present. “Can I open it now? I already know it's a book. Please?”

Daddy nodded.

Quickly, I ripped off the paper. I held the book up for Daddy to see the title:
Cosmos
. “Cool . . . very cool,” I said.

Zoe and Harper Discover

T
hat night, I opened the new book Ben had given me and read what he had written on the first page again and again.

To My Friend Zoe Reindeer—May your life be an amazing adventure.

Ben Rakotomalala

I thumbed through it for a while, looking at the awesome photos, and I wondered if traveling to other places in the universe would one day be as easy as traveling to other continents is these days. Probably.

The knock on the door came as I knew it would.
Earlier, I'd told Harper about the new book, and I figured he'd come to see. “Who is it?” I asked as if I didn't know.

“Me . . . Harper.”

“You can come in.”

“I thought you were gonna come get me so I could meet him too, Zoe?” Harper complained.

“Sorry. He was only here for a few minutes, anyway.”

“Oh. Can I see?”

I nodded, turned to the page where Ben had signed, and pointed. “Look.”

To My Friend Zoe Reindeer—May your life be an amazing adventure.

Ben Rakotomalala

Suddenly, I had an idea. “Let's go outside,” I told my brother.

“For what? It's dark.”

“Exactly.”

We settled by the pond and stared upward.

“I don't know too much about the constellations of stars, but it's something I should study,” Harper said in
a matter-of-fact way, like it was just one more thing on his list of subjects to investigate further.

The Moon was nowhere—having another night off, I guessed. I wondered why the Earth only has one moon instead of two or more like some planets in the galaxy. If we had more than one, we might never have a moonless night.

I pictured moons of different colors lighting the nighttime.

Zoe was the Maker of Moons. If your planet needed more light at night, you simply hired Zoe and she made as many moons as you wanted up to a limit of nine, because with more than nine moons it might be as bright at night as it is in the daytime and that would be weird. Zoe's moons came in many colors and sizes. Her online intergalactic planetary business was booming because people hated being outside at night without a moon to light the way.

Harper tapped my shoulder. “Zoe?”

“What?”

“You're doing that daydreaming thing, right?”

“Right,” I replied.

“About?” he asked.

“About how many moons we would need to have for there to always be one shining in the sky no matter where you are on Earth.”

“Hmmm? That's a really good question. I never thought about that.”

“Me neither until just now.”

“I always thought you were only interested in plants . . . not moons and planets.”

A thought like a small bolt of lightning flashed in my mind. “If you take the
e
out of
planet
, it spells
plant
,” I blurted.

“Wow, Zoe, that's pretty good. But then, you're smart like that.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. You are.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Quiet came after that, the way it does sometimes after serious things are said.

And it was a while before Harper spoke again. “It'd be easier to see up there if we had a telescope.”

“I know. I decided to start saving up for one.”

Harper glanced at the book, then at me, and said, “Sorry, Zoe.”

“For what?”

“For stealing your science idea.”

From the way he said it, I could tell he really meant it.

“You promise you'll never do it again?” I asked.

Harper nodded.

“Then I forgive you.”

After that, we went inside and Harper said good night to me and I said good night to him.

Later, when my head hit the pillow, I thought about Harper and how it was feeling nice to be okay with him again.

Making peace was VG—very good.

Christmas and the Day After

F
or the first time ever, I could hardly wait for Christmas Day to be over. Quincy was coming tomorrow and staying at our house for the whole week.

Besides, Christmas was becoming like a book I'd practically memorized but I reread over and over again because I liked it so much, year after year after year. Get up in the morning, wish everyone merry Christmas, put on nice clothes, go to church, come home, open presents, say you like it even if you don't, help cook dinner, eat dinner from the fancy plates, help clean up the huge Christmas mess.

We had just finished putting the house back to pre-Christmas normal when suddenly the front door
flew open. Daddy bounced up from the sofa, went to the door, and peered outside. “Just the wind,” he said. “Santa Anas are kicking up again.”

“Toasty outside too,” Grandpa Reindeer added.

Grandpa was right. For December, it was pretty hot.

Outside, the wind howled.

The next day, Jade left to spend a few days with her friend Torrey, whose family had a cabin in the mountains, so she wasn't with us when we went to pick up Quincy from the airport.

“Howdeedoo, Mr. Quincy,” Daddy said.

He grinned. “Hey, you guys.”

“I was thinking we should take advantage of this warm weather and head to the beach. Your mom packed some towels and things. That sound good?” Daddy asked as he pulled out into traffic.

Harper hollered, “Yay!”

“Sounds awesome,” Quincy replied.

But I asked, “What about the Wonderland? Who's going to work in the nursery?”

“I closed it for the day. Day after Christmas is always slow, anyway,” Daddy answered.

“Can we eat lunch at the beach too?” Harper asked.

Daddy nodded, and before long, we were driving
slowly down the narrow street that leads to Paradise Cove.

“We came here last summer with Wes. They have the best onion rings,” I told him.

“But it's kinda expensive,” Quincy warned.

Daddy chuckled. “Not to worry. We're here to have a good time.”

But as soon as we'd parked, Daddy discovered he'd forgotten his cell phone and started fussing. “What if Jade calls?”

Mom waved her cell phone in his face. “I have mine, Darrow.”

Daddy relaxed, squeezing her hand, and we headed into the restaurant, where they took our name and gave us a red lobster thing that would buzz when our table was ready.

“Reindeer? Is that a joke?” the man taking names asked my daddy.

“Not a joke,” Daddy informed him.

The man apologized. “Sorry, sir.”

“Not a problem,” Daddy told him.

Because the man had said the wait for a table for five would be long, we went out the back way and walked to the water's edge. I slipped off my shoes, tied them together, and slung them over my shoulder.

I love the beach, wading in the blue water, watching the sun set, seagulls squawking, the way everyone seems happy.

“I want to live at the beach. Can we please live at the beach?” I pleaded.

“In your dreams,” Mom answered.

“When I grow up, I'm going to live at the beach. For real!” I told her, then ran to join Quincy where he and Harper had already planted themselves on the sand.

“Why're you sitting down?” I asked Quincy. “We're at the beach. Let's go!” I reached for his hand, pulled him to his feet, and we waded in the water until it was almost to our knees. The tide rolled out, trying to suck us with it. I wiggled my toes in the wet sand and shielded my eyes from the sun glinting on the water. Some kids with boogie boards paddled out, trying to catch a wave.

Quincy and I stepped out of the cold water and walked onto the warm sand. Every so often, the waves rolled in, licking at our feet. A Frisbee flew by, just missing me.

“How's your friend?” Quincy asked.

“Adam?”

“Yeah, him.”

I'd told Quincy about the boy who called me
not ugly
and that mostly we ate lunch together. “He's gone to Paris for vacation, but he's coming back before school starts again,” I said. Right then, I wondered if Quincy was making friends too. He hadn't mentioned anything. “Did you get any new friends yet?” I asked.

“Sorta. There's this kid named Simon who lives in the apartment next door and goes to my school. Sometimes when he doesn't have band practice, we walk home together. He plays the trumpet and he's pretty good, except at night when I'm trying to go to sleep and he's practicing, I wish he played a quieter instrument.”

“Like a guitar?” I said. “But not electric.”

Quincy smiled. “Definitely not electric. That'd be gruesome. And some other kids at school are kinda cool with me, but I haven't, like, gone to their houses or anything.”

Although I wanted Quincy to make friends, I wanted to stay his best friend forever. “But I'm still your best friend—right?”

“You know it . . . and I'm still yours?”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “Forever and ever.”

Quincy grinned.

All of a sudden, I thought about Kendra. “How's your mom . . . all better?”

“Mostly. She still gets tired sometimes. I've been helping her get organized, as she calls it. And on weekends we kind of explore around, mostly on the BART train.”

“Did you ride a trolley car yet?”

Quincy nodded. “And once my mom is a little stronger, we're gonna do the Golden Gate Bridge walk. My dad already jogged across it to Sausalito and back a couple of times.”

Zoe, wearing shorts and running shoes, stood on the Golden Gate Bridge, peering out at the horizon. A group of joggers motioned for Zoe to join them. It was a beautiful day in San Francisco. Zoe joined the herd of runners and soon led the pack.

Right then, someone tugged so hard on my T-shirt that I almost fell backward. It was Harper. “C'mon. Our table's ready.”

We ordered a bunch of food, ate it all, including dessert, then headed back to the beach. Together, we trailed along, past the big rocks to the tide pools.

The red-orange sun was almost down when the Reindeer parents decided it was time to go.

“Can we please just watch the sun until it disappears?” I begged. “I like the way it looks.”

Quincy snapped a photo. “Me too.”

“Okay, but after that we need to go,” Mom told us. “Battery on my cell just died and I forgot my car charger.”

So, as soon as the sun left, we did too.

On the ride home, Harper stared silently out the window, his forehead pressed to the glass. Soft music from the radio played and Mom hummed along. I glanced over at Quincy. He had nodded off. The freeway was backed up and traffic was very slow. I was almost glad it was taking a long time. This had been one of my best days ever and I really didn't want it to be over.