Step It Up (9 page)

“Ow!” she yelped. “It hurts! I don't think I can walk.”

Rochelle couldn't take much more. “You are such a drama queen! It's barely a scrape.”

“You did this!” Liberty fired back. “Your stupid sneeze knocked me down.”

“And your ridiculous sneakers slipped on the gravel! Why couldn't you wear hiking boots like the rest of us?”

Scarlett blew her whistle in the air. Ranger Sam had told her to use it in an emergency, and this seemed like a good enough one. The girls were fighting, and Liberty was injured. She waited for him and Toni to race in and rescue them.

“Where are they?” Liberty moaned. “I'm dying and no one cares.”

Bria laughed. “You are not dying. You just have a little boo-boo. Get over it.”

“That's easy for you to say,” Liberty pointed out. “You're not the one who's hurt.”

They waited and whistled but still no one came. Scarlett had to do something. There was no one coming to their aid, and this arguing was getting them nowhere. “Rock, remember how you felt when you hurt your ankle and had to be on crutches?” she asked. “Maybe Liberty's really hurt. Maybe it's serious.” She pointed to Liberty who was now in tears and cradling her bandaged knee.

Rochelle pouted. “Fine. Lean on me,” she said. She offered her arm to Liberty, who looked positively horrified. “Come on. Do you want to stay here all day?”

“I don't think I can put pressure on my leg,” Liberty said through gritted teeth. “I think you'll have to carry me.”

Rochelle's eyes grew wide. “Carry you? Are you nuts? There is no way I'm gonna carry you!”

“We'll all take turns,” Scarlett volunteered. “We can make a chair with our arms and carry Liberty down the mountain.”

“Ooh! Can I get carried, too?” Gracie asked. “That sounds fun.”

Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She linked arms with Scarlett, and Liberty sat between them. “This is the worst day of my life,” she said as they struggled to make their way with their teammate in tow. She sneezed again, this time in Liberty's hair.

“
Eww!
Cut it out!” Liberty screamed.

“Would you like me to cover my nose and drop you?” Rochelle asked her. “ 'Cause that's my only option.”

Liberty made a face. “This is the worst day of
my
life! A bloody knee
and
a shower of boogers.”

Three hours later, they were nearly at the bottom of the trail. “It says to bear to the right,” Bria pointed out. “Past Chickasaw Cave.”

“Did you say chicken and slaw?” Anya asked.

Bria shook her head. “I said Chickasaw. It's an old Native American tribal name. Not a KFC!”

“Oh.” Anya sighed. “I'm so hungry, I'm hearing things. I think I'm delirious.”

Liberty dug into her purse and pulled out a box of Belgian chocolates. “Here. Have one,” she said.

“OMG! You have truffles in your purse and you didn't say anything?” Anya grabbed them out of her hand and began stuffing them in her mouth.

“I forgot,” Liberty explained. “I was a little busy bleeding.”

“This is heaven,” Anya said, licking her fingers. “Liberty, I never thought I'd say this, but I love you!”

“Hey, save some for me!” Gracie said, trying to wrestle one away from her.

“Are you kidding? You ate everything in our food bags! You were as piggy as your pink piggy, Gracie!” Anya held the box of chocolates high above her head so she couldn't reach it.

Gracie's eyes welled up.
Oh, no
, Scarlett thought.
Here we go …

Anya saw the look on the little girl's face and stopped herself from popping the last one in her mouth. “I'm sorry, Gracie. Here, you can have one. Please don't cry!” She handed her a dark-chocolate candy with a hazelnut-cream center.

Gracie gobbled it down and smiled. “Thank you. That was yumilicious.”

Scarlett was too busy trying to figure out the map to think of food. “I'm not sure what this little red leaf symbol here means,” she said, showing it to Bria. “It's not anywhere on the key.”

Bria shrugged. “Well, it's pretty. It must be those pretty red leaves over there.” She pointed to a patch growing around the base of a tree. “Maybe I'll pick one for my scrapbook at home.”

She was bending over a leaf when Anya suddenly screamed
“Nooooooo!”
and tackled her to the ground. Bria landed facedown in a pile of leaves and mud with Anya on top of her.

“Get off!” Bria said, spitting out a mouthful
of dirt. “Just because I made costumes you didn't like doesn't mean you have to beat me up!”

“No, I wasn't trying to beat you up,” Anya said, helping Bria to her feet. “I was trying to save you from getting poison ivy. I remember it from my Girl Scouts guidebook.”

“Poison ivy?” Bria gasped. “As in the stuff that makes you all itchy and rashy?”

Anya nodded. “You're welcome.”

“Oh, so that's what the red leaf on the map meant,” Scarlett said, making a note with a black pen on the side of the paper. “These map drawings could be a little better.”

“Our map reader could be a lot better,” Liberty said.

“Do you want to give it a try?” Scarlett said, throwing the map at her feet. “Honestly, I have had enough of everyone complaining and blaming me!”

Rochelle placed a hand on Scarlett's shoulder. “If you lose it, we will all lose it,” she reminded her. “Scarlett, you're our leader. We need you to
lead.” She picked up the map and handed it to her.

“I'm just so tired,” Scarlett moaned. “And it's getting darker.”

“Then let's get where we're going,” Rochelle said. “Anya and Bria, you're on ambulance duty.” She pointed to Liberty. “If she talks too much, just drop her.”

“Not funny,” Liberty said through gritted teeth. “I am injured. Can we show some respect?”

“Let's all show some respect for each other,” Scarlett said, picking up her bag and resuming the walk down the trail. “It's the only way we're going to get out of this mess.”

By the time they reached the bottom of the trail and settled on a spot to set up camp, it was nearly dusk. Carrying Liberty had definitely slowed them down.

“We better move fast before we lose the light,” Scarlett instructed them. She opened the tent bag and looked inside. It was a mess of poles, hinges, and fabric pieces. “Does it come with an instruction booklet?” she asked, scratching her head.

“Let me Google ‘How to build a tent,' ” Bria suggested. But her phone had no service, not
even when she held it up above her head. “I can't get a single bar,” she said, shaking her phone. “It must be all those trees getting in the way.”

“Any other suggestions?” Scarlett sighed. “We gotta get this thing up.”

Gracie kneeled over the parts on the ground. “It's just like my Barbie tent,” she said. “The one I set up in the backyard and decorated with your hair bows, Scoot.” She suddenly remembered that she hadn't exactly mentioned borrowing her sister's hair accessories for decor. “Oops! Sorry!”

Scarlett didn't even care about the bows at the moment. She was exhausted, and just wanted a place for them all to sleep tonight. “Do you think you can figure it out?”

Gracie studied the pieces and sat down to work. She clicked one pole into another, then poked it through the hem in the bottom of the fabric. In less than an hour, she'd put the entire thing together by herself. She zipped the front door closed and stood back to admire her handiwork.

“Easy-peasy,” she said, dusting off her hands. “It's not as pretty as my Barbie tent, but it works.”

“Gracie, you never cease to amaze!” Scarlett said, hugging her little sister. “Great job.”

They unrolled all the sleeping bags outside the tent, and piled a bunch of logs in the center of a circle to start a campfire.

“I think I saw this in a movie once,” Bria said, rubbing two sticks together. But no matter how hard she rubbed, there was no spark—only a few pitiful puffs of smoke. The logs refused to catch.

“Maybe we need kindling?” Anya suggested. “Ya know, something to get it started? This wood is kinda damp.”

A lightbulb went off over Rochelle's head. “Didn't you say you brought magazines?” she asked Liberty. “We could use the paper to start the fire.”

Liberty motioned toward her backpack. “If you must …”

It took Bria another twenty minutes, but the sticks finally sparked and the pages burst into
flames. As the sun set, they gathered around a roaring fire. It was warm and cozy.

“I wish I had some s'mores to roast,” Anya said.

“Don't look at me,” Liberty said, propping her knee up on her lamb Pillow Pet. “I gave you all the chocolate I had.”

Scarlett dug in the bottom of her bag. “I still have a banana. Anyone got something that would go well with it?”

Gracie held up a ketchup packet that had been crammed in her jacket pocket. “How 'bout this?”

“That would be great with my potato chips,” Bria suggested. “Chips and dip!”

“I have a little trail mix left,” Rochelle said. “How 'bout we sprinkle some nuts and granola on your banana?”

It wasn't exactly a gourmet dinner, but it was a fun feast that they had created together.

“Who wants to tell scary stories?” Rochelle asked.

“Not me,” Gracie said, hugging her stuffed pig. “I hate scary stories.”

“Oh, good … Then I'll go first!” Liberty smirked. “Once upon a time, there was a fabulous and very fashionable ballerina …”

Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I said a scary story. Not your
E! True Hollywood Story
.”

“I'm getting there,” Liberty protested. She cleared her throat. “As I was saying: Once upon a time, there was a fabulous and very fashionable ballerina. But she led a tragic life. Her evil, rotten, wicked-witch dance teacher put her high up in a tower where no one could see her loveliness.”

“That's Rapunzel,” Gracie said. “I saw that movie like a million times.”

Liberty placed her hand over Gracie's mouth. “Let me finish! Anyway, this beautiful ballerina spent all her days and nights captive in the tower, until one day, she heard a strange noise below her window.”

“Was it the evil wicked witch?” Gracie asked.

“Worse!” Liberty replied. “It was the Creature from the Rock Lagoon and it burped fire and smelled like moldy cheese …”

“Watch it,” Rochelle warned her. “Unless you want me to fix your other knee …”

Liberty kept right on going, unfazed. “This monster was hideous. It had snakes for hair and yellow eyes that gleamed in the darkness. And when she found out the beautiful ballerina was trapped inside, she offered her a deal: trade me your beauty and I will set you free.”

Bria mulled over the story. “Let me get this straight: the ballerina has to become the hideous Rock Monster to escape? Oh, that's good …”

Rochelle pulled her hood over her ears. “I am not listening to this. It's ridiculous.”

“The Rock Monster promised the change in appearance would not be permanent. She would return the ballerina to her original gorgeousness if she would do one tiny little thing for her.”

“What? What?” Gracie asked anxiously.

“Slay the wicked witch!”

Anya raised her hand. “Okay, let me get this straight. The ballerina has to give up her beauty
and take down the wicked witch? What's in it for her?”

“Freedom!” Liberty replied. “She never has to listen to that witch nag her ever again.”

“Of course there's a catch,” Scarlett guessed. “Like it's impossible to kill the witch? Or you need some crazy spell and eye of newt to do it?”

“Nope,” Liberty replied. “All the ballerina has to do is click her toe shoes together three times and say, ‘There's no place like home. There's no place like home.' ”

Gracie scratched her head. “That's
The Wizard of Oz
. This story is really mixed up.”

“You mean Liberty is really mixed up,” Rochelle complained. “I say the Rock Monster should climb up the tower and eat the ballerina for dinner in one big GULP!”

“
Noooo!
” Gracie squealed covering her ears. “That's too scary! I like Liberty's story much better. Tell us how it ends.”

“Well, of course the beautiful ballerina outsmarts the Rock Monster. She tells the monster
she'll give up her beauty and when the monster unlocks the door to the tower, the ballerina is too quick for her. She runs off and leaves the monster there, hungry and ugly.”

“Unbelievable!” Rock shouted.

“And she kills the evil witch?” Gracie asked.

“Worse. She banishes her to a remote forest where she must wander the dark, dusty trails for eternity.”