Zoe in Wonderland (14 page)

Wind and Tears

T
he closer we got to Pasadena, the stronger the Santa Ana winds got.

We were getting near the Wonderland when the air turned smoky. Ashes floated down on the car's hood and front window, reminding me of snowflakes.

“Musta been a fire,” Daddy said. “Wind and heat. Recipe for a blaze.”

And then we turned the corner and Daddy skidded to a stop. Fire trucks were everywhere, lining our street. One long red fire truck blocked the road, preventing us from going any farther. A guy in a red SUV that said
FIRE CAPTAIN
on the door waved us to the side of the road.

Daddy pulled over and rolled down the window. “What happened?”

“A few houses burned down to the ground. That Wonderland plant place too. It's mostly gone. From what we can put together, it started from some candles the old lady was burning. They found her outside her house with the hose, trying to put the fire out. With these winds, it's lucky we stopped it before it did any more damage. Shame right after Christmas. You live around here?”

Daddy put his head down on the steering wheel.

Mom gasped and started to cry.

Harper yelled, “No way!”

I turned to Quincy. “Huh?” was the only sound I could make.

After that, so many things happened that it was hard to keep track.

Because the people from the fire department wouldn't even let us get anywhere close to the Wonderland that night, we headed to Grandpa and Nana's apartment.

Grandpa opened the door. His face had a bad look, a look like he'd just swallowed vinegar.

“It's all gone . . . my whole life.” Daddy fell into his father's arms and cried. I don't think I'd ever seen my daddy cry before. I grabbed his hand.

“Went over there as soon as we heard it on the news, but they wouldn't let us near. Sorry you had to find out like that, Darrow. Couldn't get you on your cell phones,” Grandpa told him.

Daddy sobbed quietly and Nana and Grandpa Reindeer embraced their only son.

“It's my fault,” I confessed to Quincy later that night as we stared up at the dark ceiling from sleeping bags on Nana and Grandpa's floor.

He nudged me with his arm. “You weren't even there.”

“But she started a fire before and I should have told someone, but Mrs. Warner begged me not to because she was afraid they'd put her in an old-people orphanage, and now her house is gone and ours is too. I should have told,” I sniveled.

“It's not your fault, Zoe. Really, it's just . . . an accident.”

“But . . .”

He tried hard to convince me. “Even if you had
told, it probably still would have happened. I swear it's not your fault,” he repeated.

I wanted to believe him but couldn't.

I tossed around all night, barely sleeping. My eyes were wide open when the sun came up. I smelled bacon cooking. I didn't want to be hungry, but I was.

The Wonderland's Ashes

Y
ou would have thought that because the Wonderland had so many amazing things that its ashes would have been special, but they weren't. They were the same as fireplace ashes or the ashes in the barbecue pit: just plain old gray ashes.

Together, the Reindeer family—except for Jade, who was still in the mountains—staggered around through the Wonderland, hoping something hadn't been eaten by the flames. But it seemed like everything had.

Daddy and Mom's faces were as gray as the ashes.

Every tree and plant had been burned to a crisp. The nursery was burned to the ground, and the place where our house had been was charred black.

Quincy and I headed to what was left of the greenhouse. Only one part was still there, but from what I could see, none of the plants had survived.

Then I glanced over to where I'd planted the baobabs. The old coffee cans didn't look like they'd been touched by the fire. I went over and examined the cans one by one.

“Quincy!” I screamed.

He ran to my side. “Are you dying? Because that was an I-am-dying scream.”

I held up one of the cans for him to see. It was the old, rusty Kona Hawaiian Coffee can. “One of them finally grew! A baobab!”

We looked at the bright green stem and two perfectly sprouted leaves.

“Wow!” he declared, and snapped a picture.

I didn't think about anything after that. My feet took over and I ran. I had to show Daddy. I found him standing where the nursery used to be. “Daddy!” I yelled.

“What's wrong, Zoe?”

I held up the can for him to see. “It grew. A baobab. It was a secret and I was hoping it would grow by Christmas so I could give it to you for a present, but it didn't. It's a baobab and it's endangered. And it's
special. And it's the only thing that didn't get burned up. Merry Christmas!”

Daddy took it from my hand and studied the can and the seedling. “It's a sign,” he said. “It has to be a sign.”

Reindeer in Hawaii

I
mmediately after the fire, like vultures circling a dead thing, the land developers arrived, each one offering more and more money for Doc Reindeer's Exotic Plant Wonderland. I don't know how much it got sold for, but I'd overheard Mom say it was enough for us to buy another house with money to spare.

In no time flat, the Wonderland had been bulldozed and cleared.

It was a very sad day seeing it that way, like it suddenly wasn't wearing any clothes.

Other things changed fast too. Mrs. Warner, because she had no family and nowhere else to live, had finally
wound up in an old-people orphanage. We'd visited her there one day. It was pretty nice and she seemed sort of happy. At least she wasn't alone anymore. She didn't say anything about the fire. I supposed she didn't remember. Mom said it was just as well. Mrs. Warner had enough bad memories in her life.

Ultimately, I'd confessed to Daddy about that first fire at her house, expecting him to be mad, but Daddy had just shrugged and said, “It's not your fault, Zoe. What's past is past.”

Everyone had different ideas about where we should move to, but Daddy claimed the
sign
—the only living thing left after the fire, the baobab growing inside the Hawaiian Coffee can—had made it as clear as glass. It had pointed him toward the path we were supposed to take: the path that led to a flower farm on the island of Kauai in Hawaii.

Now I understood what he meant by a sign.

And no matter how many times Jade yelled, “My life is ruined! I hate you,” there was nothing she could do to change his mind.

The entire Reindeer family, including Nana and Grandpa, was moving thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean.

The flower farm was even more acres than the
Wonderland, plus this house had an attached apartment called an '
ohana
unit for Nana and Grandpa. Nearby, there was a botanical garden.

Every time Quincy called on his mom's or dad's cell, all he seemed to talk about was coming to Hawaii to visit during the summer. Kendra had thousands of frequent flier miles. But the summer seemed a long way away. Maybe I'd make at least one new friend before then, I hoped.

In February, on my last day of school in Pasadena, I stood outside with Adam. “Bye,” I told him. It was pretty hard saying that word to him, but nowhere near as hard as when Quincy had left.

He took my hand and squeezed it tight. “Bye, Zoe. It'll be an adventure.”

“My first,” I told him.

“Yes, and maybe I'll get to come to Hawaii someday and visit you. It's on my list of places to go,” Adam said.

“You have a list?”

He nodded. “Not exactly a list, but a map of the world. I have a bunch of yellow pushpins stuck in all the places I want to go to, and once I go there, I stick
in a red pushpin. You should get a map and put it on your wall.”

“That's a good idea . . . I will. Plus maybe we'll come back to California to visit. I'll send you an e-mail when we get there.”

“Bye,” we said at the same time.

And later that day, when Daddy answered the door at the apartment where the insurance company had paid for us to live after the fire, Ben Rakotomalala was standing there.

“How did you find us?” I asked.

“The man who bought the Wonderland told me,” he replied. “I came to express my sorrow and to replace these.” He handed me copies of the two books he'd given me. “I assumed they were lost in the fire.”

I took them from his hand. “They were . . . Thank you.”

Daddy got tears in his eyes. “You're a kind man, Ben.”

“We're moving to Kauai in Hawaii. Our plane leaves tomorrow. We bought a flower farm,” I blurted.

“The Garden Isle, they call that one. I was there years ago when I worked on the Big Island at the University of Hawaii Institute for Astronomy. If you ever get to the Big Island, you'll have to make sure you visit
the Mauna Kea Observatories. By 2022, the island will be home to the world's biggest telescope, allowing scientists to see thirteen billion light-years away.”

“Wow!” Harper exclaimed from behind me. Until then, I hadn't known he was even in the room. “Wow!” he repeated. “I cannot wait to see that.”

“Well, it's time for me to say my good-byes,” the tall man said. His words had a little sadness sprinkled on them.

Daddy glanced at the books I was holding, said, “Thanks again,” and shook his hand.

“Bye, and thank you for the books,” I told him.

He said good-bye one last time and turned to leave, heading toward the elevator.

Suddenly, I glanced at the baobab seedling in the Kona coffee can that was sitting on the table.

“Daddy? I know it was supposed to be your present, but we can always grow some more, and this time I'll follow the instructions.” I picked up the baobab. “Can I give this one to Ben? Please? I promised him.”

“Ben!” Daddy called out. “Hold up! My Zoe has a gift for you.”

I flew down the hallway to Ben Rakotomalala. “It's a baobab. For you.”

He took the can from my hand. “Thank you, Zoe!”

“Don't water it too much or it might die,” I warned him.

The elevator came and he waved at my daddy. “Thank you again, Zoe.”

“You're welcome . . . I won't forget you,” I said as he stepped inside the elevator.

“Nor I you, Zoe Reindeer,” he replied.

The elevator door was closing when he stopped it with his hand and it reopened. Ben stared into my eyes. “One more thing, Zoe. Promise you'll put that wonderful imagination of yours to good use.”

“I promise.”

The elevator door closed and the tall man from Madagascar disappeared from sight.

Back inside the apartment, I plopped on the sofa beside Harper and together we flipped open the book by Carl Sagan,
Cosmos
.

Just like before, Ben had written on the first page:

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

Ben Rakotomalala