Teddycats (8 page)

BILL WAS JITTERY
with nerves when Felix, Diego, and Omar came to collect him. They each had bindles tied to their tails. Diego wore a serious expression, his brow shading his scarred eye. Felix was doing his best to hide his limp, but it remained noticeable despite his stoic stance. Meanwhile, Omar stayed mum, making Bill think he was still adjusting to his newfound bravery and all the attendant consequences. His bindle seemed heavier than the others. Knowing his fussy mom, Bill figured she'd probably panicked and overpacked it with bulky bedding straw and other unnecessary gear.

“Go easy on the treats,” said Felix when he saw the dinner scraps all over Bill's face. “We need you to stay nimble.”

“I just fixed him something light,” said Marisol, exiting the den and setting a basket down in front of them. “And here, I put together a little something for the group.”

“Much obliged, Mrs. Garra,” Diego said, in a voice softer than his usual growl.

“It's just some water, berries, figs, and sweetmoss,” said Marisol. “I told Bill I thought the moss might be useful down in the jungle.”

“Excellent thinking,” said Felix. He cracked the basket and admired the goodies within. “Though I'd better sample a bit just to be sure.”

“And I'll provide that
crucial
second opinion,” said Diego.

“Please, help yourself,” said Marisol. “You too, Omar.”

But Omar looked too nervous to eat. His cheeks ballooned at the offer, as if he were chewing on air and barely keeping it down.

“Easy, Mom,” Bill cautioned. He knew from experience that sometimes his mother had a tendency to push food on people no matter how green about the gills they appeared. It was obvious to him that, on some level, she truly believed that there was nothing she couldn't fix with some fresh, hot grub. And Bill and his father were usually willing to test that theory.

“Well,” said Marisol, “whenever you're ready.”

Though she smiled, it was clear from her bittersweet tone that the impending departure and uncertain future of her only child and his motley crew were finally starting to land. Still, it seemed everyone in the den had
an unspoken agreement to ignore it. At least until they finished chewing.

There was a scratching at the entrance to the den. Omar was the most obviously startled by the noise, but Felix and Diego were on edge enough to whip their heads around. Diego even hastened into a defensive fighting stance, though he relaxed (somewhat) when he saw that it was only Big Bill Garra, wearing a customarily long face.

He established himself squarely in the center of the den and acknowledged the group with a curt nod. In many ways, Big Bill was the ideal carrier of bad news. The quietly stern way he delivered emotional gut punches often made the victim feel like they were getting off easy. For starters, he looked the part. His upper lip had a natural, rippled hitch, which left one of his more fang-like incisors permanently exposed and gave him a grim, determined expression. His ears were permanently perked, his brows thoughtfully uneven above cold eyes (Bill had inherited his father's unwavering stare). Big Bill appreciated thorns over flowers, or at the very least saw them as equally valuable. He was fierce, difficult, largely humorless, and distracted by danger and other pressing concerns. He valued quiet—not for the peace it brought but for the vigilance it implied.

“The Elders have come to a conclusion,” he began. His voice was hoarse as ever, as if it had been shredded long ago while screaming for help and never recovered.

Bill was ready to listen to whatever his father needed to say but was certainly happy to have Felix and Diego in the room with him. They were fighters—surely his father could see that. Surely he could understand their motivations and respect their choice to venture into the jungle.
As if they even had a choice!
Bill wanted to say, but he knew better than to interrupt his father.

“If you choose to leave on this mission, you will not be able to reenter the Kingdom. We are sealing up all entrances. The Wall will be patrolled with guards, who will attack trespassers on sight.”

Marisol emitted a tiny yelp. Bill wanted to comfort her but remained where he was.

“The Elders have weighed the risks,” Big Bill continued. “If you return, with or without those we've already lost, they feel there's a good chance you will expose our community.”

Bill and Omar exchanged glances, but Felix and Diego were all business as they kept their steadfast gazes forward.

“I don't say this to scare you, or in hopes of changing your mind,” Big Bill said. “You have good reason to leave, just as we have good reason to stay. I share the Elders' decree not necessarily because it reflects my views or because I don't support your goals, but because it is valuable information.”

Bill felt dizzy, sideswiped. The world had taken on a shimmery, impermanent quality.

“Good luck,” said his father, the words heavy with finality.

“Thank you, Mr. Garra,” Felix said. “Sincerely.”

“Yessir, thanks for lookin' out,” Diego said.

Big Bill offered only another, deeper nod.

Bill went to his mother, leaning against her for support. She clutched him with uncertainty. He could feel her heart beating, fast and afraid, through her chest and into his own.

Felix lifted his injured leg with two paws and placed it gingerly on the den floor.

“As you are all well aware, I am neither a Teddycat nor a Cloud Kingdom native,” Felix said, “so I will leave my three comrades to decide the fate of this endeavor.”

He stuck his head out of the den. Sunlight pierced through the clouds and illuminated the sheen of his coat. He closed his eyes and basked in the warmth. “This sure is a beautiful place,” he said. “Please know that I will be content with whatever you choose. Thank you for the meal. Good day.”

He stepped out, and there was a long silence in the wake of Felix's departure.

“This don't change nothin',” grunted Diego.

“I'm happy to hear that,” said Bill, though suddenly everything sounded like it was underwater. Looking around the den, he passed quickly over Omar's fallen face, which reflected the terror and dread he himself felt. But he really was happy to hear that Diego still
wanted to go. One reason he wanted comrades in the first place was to ensure action, to spur him along when the going got tough and the stakes were raised. Well, the stakes were about as high as they could get. So if Diego was still game, Bill wasn't about to back out.

“Omar, nobody will judge if you want to stay here,” Bill said. “We appreciate your support no matter what.”

Omar gulped, then mustered all the resolve he could manage into his face. “No. Let's go save the day.”

BILL'S CREW ASSEMBLED
on the Wall for one last farewell.

In the back of his mind, Bill remained hopeful that Maia might come to see him off, but now, with everything finally, irrevocably on the line, he knew whatever words he might blurt would be hollow and worthless. He would either save Elena and, in doing so, change the course of Teddycat civilization, or else he would languish in banishment or meet some other, even more grisly end.

Maia didn't need to know that he was doing this for her. What if things went wrong? She didn't need that guilt gnawing away at her in the middle of the night, the mystery of their final, doomed descent into the jungle casting a shadow across the rest of her life.

Bill's new philosophy, born of Maia's disappointment: If you do something for somebody, do it quietly
or not at all. Oh, and honesty above all else. Maybe if he'd adopted these mantras a while back, things might have worked out differently. Still, if he was being
truly
honest, he had to admit he would have felt much better if Maia had shown up at the Wall so he could see her face at least one more time before he left home.

The Wall straddled two worlds, the quilted pink of Cloud Kingdom in the midst of its peaceful gloaming, and the frenzied jungle, barely imaginable through heavy humidity and a thick fog the color of yolk. They could hear the distant howls of the Wind Tunnel and the crush of the waterfall. Bill's neck tingled as a cool Kingdom breeze brushed his fur, perhaps for the final time.

Saying goodbye to his parents had not been easy. His father wished him luck again. His mother's heart continued its crazed patter. Bill had felt swollen and stilted with emotion, afraid that if he let those feelings loose he might lose all his nerve or even melt completely. The occasion was so fraught and momentous it was almost awkward, like trading heartfelt farewells with a friend, only to see them again later that day. It felt too long and too quick at the same time.

“Drink it in, lads,” said Felix, as the setting sun crept down the face of the volcano and filled the Kingdom like a bowl.

Bill almost didn't turn around—he was afraid it would be too much to bear—but when even Diego
couldn't contain a mournful grunt of emotion, he turned on his heel and let the full majesty of the Kingdom smack him right in the face. It was beautiful.

“DON'T RUSH AHEAD,
Bill,” said Felix. “Let's stay together.”

“I wouldn't call it rushing,” mumbled Bill, as they slowly descended to the tree line. But if he didn't mind each step, he leapt well ahead of the others. Felix's injury slowed their progress to a maddening plod, and even Diego, the weathered scout, was a bit stiffer than Bill would have imagined. But it was Diego who brought up the rear, slowly, his good eye narrowed, a tight bundle of vigilance. Meanwhile, Omar had essentially been designated Felix's valet, keeping a steady leg at the ready should the old cat stumble on loose rock or get struck by a sudden bout of vertigo.

Though at times frustrating for Bill, their trip down to the jungle did remind him of the dangers of that journey and the natural defenses of Cloud Kingdom. Felix had almost been blown away in the Wind Tunnel—his fur rippling loose like a cape as he bore down against the gales—and the molten rock was smooth and fast.

Bill was itching to rip through the canopy, vine by vine, until his eyes watered from the speed. But even
after the ground grew crunchy and stable with vegetation, they still moved slowly, deliberately, paying painstaking attention to their surroundings.

Soon after they left, Bill noticed that Felix and Diego used a system of paw signals to communicate silently. Bill wasn't sure if this was a secret jungle language he was supposed to know (he
did
skip a lot of lessons to hang out in the jungle with Luke) or if Felix and Diego were just signaling to each other to talk about, or above, him, the way his parents used to spell things out (D-E-S-S-E-R-T, B-E-D-T-I-M-E) before he wised up and cracked that code.

“Where are we even headed, anyways?” Bill asked while the crew took a breather beneath an umbrella tree.

Felix had his eyes closed. Diego lapped some water loudly. Omar looked homesick.

“The Olingo den,” said Felix, eyes still shut. “We need to assemble a coalition, and that starts with making peace with the Olingos.”

“Good luck, mate,” Diego scoffed. “You know those lazy 'lingos, always want something for nothing.”

There were a few things Bill wanted to say to that, but he figured it was too early in the mission for a confrontation. Still, Luke's honor, and life, was at stake.

“That's exactly the type of thinking we need to move beyond,” Felix said, eyes open now.

Empowered by Felix, Bill reconsidered. “My friend
Luke is an Olingo. And I can tell you, he is a friend of the Teddycats.”

“We all know about your friend Luke,” Omar said bitterly. “Remember, you snuck him into Cloud Kingdom and pretty much unleashed chaos?”

“That the one got yanked up in a tree-trap?” Diego asked.

“That's the one,” Bill said, glaring at Omar.

“Tell me about that trap,” Diego said.

“What do you want to know?” Bill asked.

“Where was it? What set it off? How fast did Joe respond?”

“Oh,” Bill said. He squinted and tried to focus. Fatigue made everything murky, and the film of fear, mixed with that night's spooky moonlight, played tricks on his memory. “Right. Well, it all happened very quickly. One second we were on the ground, on a trail near where Elena was nabbed, and the next Luke was in the air, upside-down.”

“And the human?” Diego asked impatiently.

“Oh, Joe came right away,” Bill said. “The light followed me everywhere. I barely had time to rip on out of there.”

“Too bad you couldn't have followed him,” Diego said. “Then we might have a real place to start instead of being on this wild toucan chase.”

“We have a starting point,” Felix said. He rose and propped himself against the tree. “That's better
than nothing. We're two klicks from the Olingo den. Now, what's done is done. Is this the perfect team? The perfect situation? Of course not. But tell me, Diego, when was the last time anything was ever perfect in the jungle?”

“Well, things have been a little
too
perfect, maybe,” Diego said.

“And how did that work out for you?”

“Lookin' back, I might say it got me so I wasn't as sharp as I should've been,” Diego admitted. “A bit lackadaisical.”

“Exactly,” said Felix. “Nobody's perfect, so that's not what I'm asking for. What I
am
asking for is this: Stick together and have the next fella's back. No more sniping, no more fantasies. If we walk like a team and talk like a team, our chance at success will rise from nil to slim. Can we agree on that?”

The crew mumbled and turned wayward eyes to the sky, examined their paws.

“I said, can we agree on that?”

“Yes,” Omar said, too loudly.

“Sure,” Bill said.

“Suppose so,” said Diego.

“Good.”