Arlo Finch in the Valley of Fire Page 8

  That was the fundamental question, Arlo decided.

  As curious as he was to learn about wisps and witches and what had really happened when Katie and Connor disappeared, he mostly wanted to know how it all related to him.

  He had been in Pine Mountain less than a week, yet he could already feel things shifting. He wanted to know what would happen next.

  Arlo wiped away the words on the dusty window. That’s when he saw it.

  Snow.

  It was falling in large, delicate flakes, each one floating down like a feather. The ground was already covered in a soft layer of white.

  Arlo leaned on the windowsill, watching how the snow drifted across the moonlight. For a few minutes, the swirling questions in his head went quiet. He didn’t worry about wisps and witches and worse-than-witches.

  He simply watched as winter came to Pine Mountain.

  13

  BLUE BERTHA

  ARLO RAN AS FAST AS HE COULD, his boots slipping in the muddy snow.

  He could feel his pulse in his ears, his lungs burning in the cold air. But he had to keep running. He had to stay on his feet. One slip and he would be trampled. Crushed.

  Wu was right beside him, and faring no better. The yellow plastic rope was sliding through his gloved hands. Worse, his wool cap was inching lower and lower on his face. He shoved it back with his sleeve.

  “Keep going!” shouted Connor, right on their heels. Bigger and stronger than the rest of the patrol, he had loops of rope over both shoulders. He was pulling most of the weight.

  Ten feet back, Indra and the twins were attempting to push and steer the hulking blue sled. Indra lost her footing and face-planted in the snow.

  Arlo looked up, breathless, squinting in the sun.

  It was the first practice for the Alpine Derby sled race, and the other patrols were far ahead, nearing the edge of the snowy church lawn. Red Patrol was the first to reach the halfway mark, a big brick sign with interchangeable plastic letters (THE LORD IS PATIENT, WHY NOT YOU?). They veered right to circle behind it.

  Meanwhile, Wu was losing the fight with his hat. It slipped down over his eyes. He was running blind. Arlo grabbed the edge of Wu’s jacket, attempting to steer him.

  Spitting out snow and grass, Indra raced to catch up with the sled.

  Red Patrol emerged from behind the sign. Russell Stokes was pulling the lead. He looked like a sweaty, redheaded ox, each breath fogging the air. The whole patrol had shed their coats before the race started, running in just T-shirts. They were missing a few members—it was basketball season—but that was not slowing them down.

  Green Patrol cut wide to circle behind the sign. What they lacked in horsepower, they made up for in technique. They kept a single Ranger at the back of the sled, a tiny girl who was responsible only for steering and shaking a sleigh bell to keep them in rhythm as they sang:

  Green Patrol is who we are

  Faster than a shooting star

  Green Patrol is here to say

  Teamwork, teamwork, all the way!

  Back at the blue sled, Indra screamed at Julie, “Don’t stand on the runners!”

  “Don’t fall!” Julie shouted back.

  “Stop fighting!” yelled Jonas.

  Russell Stokes cough-shouted “Losers!” as the Red team raced past, already headed for the finish line.

  Wu slowed, trying to fix his hat. Connor nearly ran over him. In frustration, Connor grabbed Wu’s hat and tossed it aside. “Keep running!” he shouted.

  With a burst of anger and adrenaline, Wu charged ahead. There was no slack in the rope, so he was mostly pulling Arlo and Connor, rather than the sled.

  Green Patrol raced past them, smiling as they sang. Arlo grimaced. How could they be so happy? Pulling these sleds was torture.

  “Get ready to turn!” shouted Connor. They were approaching the sign.

  Arlo had no idea how to turn. Was he supposed to go faster? Slow down? He was on the inside of the “track,” closer to the sign. Maybe he was supposed to take shorter steps?

  As they passed the sign, Arlo, Wu and Connor veered left. But the sled kept going straight, pure momentum. The trio in back had no idea how to steer it.

  Arlo suddenly found himself flying forward like an accidental water-skier. He went face-first into the wet snow, which slid into his parka.

  Connor and Wu dug in their heels, yanking with all their might. The giant blue sled tipped on its side, then all the way over. Indra and the twins barely got out of the way as it rolled, cargo spilling everywhere.

  Arlo sat up on his knees, wiping the snow out of his eyes.

  “We have to steer from the back!” shouted Indra.

  “Then steer!” answered Connor, running up to the crashed sled. “Help me flip it.”

  Arlo staggered over as the patrol got the giant sled set right. They positioned it so they wouldn’t need to turn again. Then they salvaged the contents of the sled: one fire barrel, one hatchet, one first aid kit, two pots, three cans of stew, four gallons of water and fifty feet of rope.

  By the time they got the sled reloaded, Red Patrol was almost at the finish line.

  “It’s over. They won,” said Wu.

  “We have to finish!” said Connor, lashing down the last of the gear. “Everyone pull. I’ll push.”

  The five junior members of the patrol took spots along the yellow rope, trudging their way back. They weren’t even trying to run. They just wanted this to be over.

  Arlo watched as Green Patrol finished. They gathered in a tight circle for a final round of their racing song, ending with whoops and clapping. They’re cheering for second place, he thought. They’d probably cheer if they came in last.

  Minutes later, when Blue Patrol finally crossed the finish line, there weren’t any hugs or high fives. They each walked in their own direction, avoiding eye contact. Wu went back to retrieve his hat.

  Christian marked down their time on a clipboard. “All right. So, some patrols have a lot of work to do. Alpine Derby is in eight weeks. You need a plan for getting ready.”

  The Alpine Derby was the annual winter event in which patrols from around the region gathered to compete in Ranger skills, from pathing to pinereading, rescue to ropecraeft. Patrols raced their sleds to various stations in the wilderness, completing tasks at each one.

  Last year, Pine Mountain Company had performed poorly, with no patrols placing in the top five. Blue would have finished last of all twenty patrols, except “this one patrol from Wyoming fell in a river and two of them got hypothermia, so that slowed them down,” explained Connor. “But not as much as you’d think.”

  In order to avoid another disastrous derby, the company had begun practice weeks earlier than usual.

  Christian told the patrols to put their sleds back in the storage room. As Russell Stokes was zipping up his jacket, he hissed to Arlo under his breath, “Your patrol sucks.”

  “You suck,” said Arlo, not whispering at all. He wasn’t sure why he said it. It didn’t seem like him at all. But he was exhausted, and Russell was a jerk.

  Christian came up behind him. He had heard the exchange. “Ranger’s Vow, right now. Both of you.”

  Russell knew the drill. He put his fist over his heart and raced through the Vow like he was reciting the alphabet, ending with “… forestspiritshearmenowasIspeakmyRanger’sVow.”

  Christian looked to Arlo—his turn. Arlo had been practicing the Vow, but the words kept getting mixed up. “Loyal, brave, kind and new…”

  “True,” said Christian, correcting him.

  True. It was such a strange word in the Vow. A person could be loyal or brave or kind, but how could a person be true? An answer could be true, as in, not false. Arlo wondered if they really meant truthful but shortened it so that it would rhyme with the next line.

  Perhaps recognizing Arlo’s puzzled expression, Christian said, “True like an arrow, how it flies in a straight line. And also, true to yourself.”

  “Not true like
honest?”

  “That too. Sort of all of it. There’s not a bad way to be true.”

  Getting the nod from Christian, Russell went back to his patrol, helping them carry their sled inside. Christian stayed with Arlo. “How well do you know the Vow?”

  “I’ve almost got it memorized.” (This was not quite true.)

  “It’s not about memorizing. You have to know it. Really understand it. The only way to do that is to live it.”

  In a flash, Arlo thought back to his two buckets of knowing. Christian was telling him the Vow needed to be in the I Saw It bucket rather than the Someone Told Me.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Russell’s a jerk, but he’s trying to be better. You have to try, too.”

  “I will.” Arlo meant it.

  As Christian headed off, Blue Patrol slowly gathered around their hulking sled, which was known throughout the company as Blue Bertha.

  No one knew exactly how old Bertha was, but it had been part of the Pine Mountain Company for years, passed from patrol to patrol. It was made of plywood and two-by-fours held together with nails, screws, bailing wire and duct tape. The blue paint was chipping off in places, revealing earlier colors. On the sides, the racing stripes were starting to peel off. Arlo only now realized they were actually just masking tape.

  “We’re never going to win with Bertha,” said Wu. “She’s too big and too heavy.”

  “She’s sturdy,” said Connor.

  Indra agreed with Wu. “You don’t need sturdy, you need fast. The Red sled is made of aluminum—”

  “And the Green sled is wood,” countered Connor. “Ninety percent of Alpine Derby sleds are wood.”

  “Yeah, but half as much wood,” said Wu. “Bertha is like if you made a normal sled and you just kept adding and adding until there was no more wood left in the world. And it’s like they found the heaviest wood out there. Ironwood or something.”

  Jonas sided with Connor. “That’s why she’s so good. She’s indestructible.”

  “So’s a tank. You don’t want to push a tank through the forest.”

  “The problem isn’t the sled!” said Connor, almost shouting. “It’s us. We need to practice. Green’s sled is as old as ours, but they have a rhythm. They’re in sync.”

  “We could be in perfect sync and we’d still be last,” argued Indra. “Because we’re dragging this awful sled.”

  Julie finally weighed in. “Maybe if we waxed the skis…”

  “It’s not just the skis. We need to build a new sled,” said Wu. Arlo noticed Wu made eye contact with each one of them as he spoke. “This is a race, and in a race, you need the fastest vehicle. That’s how you win.”

  Connor shook his head. “The sprint is only worth ten points. The individual stations are worth just as much—”

  Indra interrupted. “But you get extra points based on the order you get back. Bertha isn’t just terrible in the sprint. She’s terrible everywhere. We get stuck on trails. That costs us time. Plus we’re exhausted when we get to the stations because we’ve been dragging her for so long.”

  Nothing was going to convince Connor. “We only have eight weeks. We need to focus on skills. We can’t waste time arguing about the sled.”

  Arlo stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure he had an opinion.

  “I say we vote,” said Wu. “All in favor of building a new sled?”

  Wu and Indra raised their hands. They both looked at Arlo, gesturing for him to join them. He hesitated.

  Luckily, Connor interceded. “I’m the patrol leader. It’s my decision. We’re not building a new sled.”

  Indra wasn’t backing down. “I’m the patrol quartermaster. Quartermaster is responsible for procuring and maintaining all patrol gear.”

  “The sled isn’t gear. The stuff in the sled is gear.”

  “I don’t think that’s right. We should check the Field Book.”

  Wu tried a new tactic. “I think we should vote on whether we should vote. All in favor of voting?”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” argued Connor. “You can’t vote on voting.”

  “So what, you’re king now?” asked Indra. “We don’t get to vote on anything anymore?”

  “We voted on what to have for dinner last campout,” said Julie, trying to be helpful. “We had stew even though I hate stew.”

  “We know, Julie!” snapped Indra. “You bring it up every time.”

  “Because I hate it every time.”

  Connor took a step back. “You want to vote? Fine. Let’s vote. All in favor of building a new sled, raise your hand.”

  Indra and Wu shot their hands in the air. Julie and Jonas shook their heads. They were voting no.

  All eyes went to Arlo. He could feel the weight of the stares. He had deliberately stayed out of the argument, but now it was down to him.

  “I’m really fine either way,” he said.

  “You have to vote,” said Indra. “Not voting is the same as voting no.”

  Arlo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He felt his hand rising in the air beside Indra’s and Wu’s.

  “All opposed?” asked Connor. Julie and Jonas raised their hands. So did Connor. “That’s three-three. Motion fails. We’re not building a new sled. And that’s the last I want to hear about it, understood?”

  Wu and Indra exchanged a look, frustrated but resigned.

  Twenty minutes later, while Arlo was waiting for his mom to pick him up, Wu and Indra sidled up to him. The trio was alone.

  “What are you doing Saturday?” asked Wu.

  “I don’t know. Homework?”

  “Come over to my house. Don’t tell anyone else.”

  “Why?

  Indra exchanged a smile with Wu. “We’re going to build a new sled.”

  14

  MR. HENHAO

  LOYAL. IT WAS THE FIRST WORD in the Ranger’s Vow, the kind of term that was easier to understand by example than definition.

  Dogs are loyal. Arlo remembered reading about a dog in Japan who waited at the train station every afternoon. Summer or winter, rain or shine, the dog was always ready to walk home with its owner, an old man who worked in the city. Then one day, the old man died while at work. For the rest of its life, the dog would still walk to the station and wait for its master to get off the train. Only when the last train departed would the dog finally head home alone.

  Arlo’s dad was loyal to the Boston Red Sox, despite not having lived there since he was a boy. In Chicago, men on the L train sometimes made rude comments about his dad’s baseball cap, calling his team worthless or pathetic. “Doesn’t matter whether they win or lose,” his father told him. “Once you pick a team, you stick with it. It’s like marriage—for better or worse, thick and thin.” When watching really important games, he would send Arlo to fetch his special red socks for luck, the ones he kept at the back of the drawer and never washed until the end of the season.

  Loyalty is also why Arlo voted to build a new sled.

  He had no strong opinion either way. He was happy to let Connor make the decision and leave it at that. But Indra and Wu were his best friends, and they were counting on his vote—even if the vote didn’t matter in the end. To side with Connor and the twins would have been a betrayal.

  Maybe that’s loyalty, Arlo thought. Doing right by your friends when it would be easier not to. He was like that Japanese dog, or his dad on the L train, enduring minor hardship out of obligation.

  Loyalty was not an oath you swore in front of witnesses, or spitting in your hand before you shook to seal the deal. It wasn’t a contract. It was just there. Loyalty was a promise you never needed to make.

  Now, standing on Wu’s snowy porch with his finger reaching for the doorbell, Arlo was questioning his own loyalty.

  Connor had allowed a vote, and the decision was no. Yet here Arlo was, preparing to build a new sled in secret with Indra and Wu. In being loyal to his friends, Arlo was being disloyal to his patrol. He felt like a traitor. Yet somet
imes traitors were the actual heroes, because they stood up for what was right when everyone else blindly followed—

  “Arlo?” asked Indra. He was surprised to find her standing behind him. Her mom’s car was idling on the street. “Are you going to ring or not?”

  Arlo hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  Indra reached past him to ring the bell. “I’m so excited. They’re going to freak out when they see what we’ve done.”

  * * *

  Wu had planned every detail of the new sled.

  “This rack holds our water bottles.” His finger traced along a pencil sketch, one of nine drawings spread across the dining room table. “The bottles are color-coded. I made a chart, but we can swap colors if we need to. Figured I should be blue like Wu so it’s easy to remember.”

  He handed Arlo the water bottle color key and pulled forward a different schematic that showed the sled in profile. “Next, aerodynamics. We aren’t going to have time for a wind tunnel test, so I went with a basic teardrop shape, which should be good enough. This little ski in the front is for maneuverability. We want a tight turning radius with maximum torque.”

  “What’s torque?” asked Arlo.

  “It’s good,” said Wu. “You want torque. Now for the cargo compartment, I figured we could have detachable pods. So when we get to the Rescue station, for example, we just pop out the part with the first aid kit and go.” He pointed to a stripe along the front edge of the sled. “These are actually LEDs. They’re like headlights for when it gets dark.”

  Arlo nodded, impressed.

  Indra studied the drawing more closely. “What’s the sled made of?”

  “So I’ve been doing some research. For the right combination of high strength and light weight, we’ll want to use carbon fiber over a titanium frame.”

  “Where do we get that?”

  Wu was caught off guard by the question. He was so immersed in the design phase he hadn’t yet considered construction. “We could probably order it online. Or maybe in Denver? One of our parents could drive us to a store that sells titanium and carbon fiber. Or maybe they’re different stores, I don’t know. But I’m sure someone sells it.”

  “Denver is a six-hour drive,” said Indra. “Twelve hours round-trip.” Wu nodded, biting his lip. “We need to get the sled built today. By five o’clock. My mom is picking me up then.”