Читать книгу The Super Secret - Melissa Perry Moraja - Страница 7

It all began on a hot August day in the small town of Boring Brook.

Jake, Madison, and I rode our bikes to Gator Elementary with our baseball equipment slung over our shoulders. Gator Elementary was the school we attended nine and a half months out of the year.

When we arrived, the playground area was deserted, except for this enormous bird’s nest, sitting high on one of those huge, steel power transmission towers. We had hoped some of our friends would be there, or at least a few other kids, so we could form teams. But no one was.

As I was unzipping my baseball bag, I noticed Principal Dimples, our school’s principal, standing just inside the front entrance of our school, looking at a green piece of paper that was taped to the door. Within seconds, she ripped the paper off. Then she turned in our direction, crossed her arms, clenched her lips together, and stared at us. She made me nervous. I was glad when she turned around and disappeared into the school.

“Are you ready?” shouted Jake from home plate.

Like always, Jake hit first. It was like some kind of unwritten older-brother rule.

I hurried to the pitchers mound, wound up, and pitched Jake a fastball. He hit every pitch I threw. I wasn’t the best pitcher. Most of my pitches were either way too high or outside the batter’s box or too close to the batter. But he still was able to hit every single one of them into the outfield.

After Jake hit, it was Madison’s turn. I always let Madison go before me. And Jake always pitched to her. We agreed to take turns, rotating each position to be fair. Although it really wasn’t that fair, because Jake only wanted me to pitch to him, which meant Madison always pitched to me. Her curveballs have whacked me in the head, elbow, and knee. And yes, they all hurt!

Madison hit the first three pitches Jake pitched, missed the fourth, and walloped the last pitch over Jake’s and my head.

Then it was my turn.

I bolted in, grabbed my super-slugger bat, and hustled to home plate. I swung the bat a few times, waiting for Madison to get settled in on the pitcher’s mound.

“Are you ready?” I yelled, grinding my left foot into the ground.

“You bet!” Madison shouted back, winding up.

I angled my bat just perfectly above my left shoulder. My eyes connected with Madison’s. She lifted up her left knee, gripped the baseball in her right hand, and pitched a knuckleball.

I swung and missed.

“Ugh!” I said, disappointed.

Madison and Jake started laughing.

I sighed and said, “Not funny.”

I got back into batting position and missed the next three pitches—a curveball, a fastball, and another knuckleball.

“One left!” shouted Madison, smirking. This was it.

This was my last pitch.

I took a deep breath and clenched my bat tightly, scanning every angle of Madison’s pitching stance. I was ready for a changeup.

She wound up and released the ball. It was fast!

Whack!

Jake, Madison, and I froze as we watched the baseball soar higher and higher. It went farther than any ball Jake had ever hit.

I smiled proudly, imagining all of my friends telling me that I was just as great as Jake.

But my smile changed quickly, when I noticed the ball heading right for the enormous bird’s nest. There wasn’t anything any of us could do. It crashed right into it, knocking the nest to the ground.

No one could have predicted what happened next. This mammoth-sized bird shot out of the nest, zooming toward us like we were its next prey. Next thing I knew, Jake was shouting, “Run! You hit a raptor’s nest!”

“Aaaggghh!” Jake, Madison, and I screamed, running for cover.

Jake dove behind some bushes near the school.

Madison took cover behind a tree near the basketball court.

I had planned on diving in a ditch about twenty yards from where we were playing. But as I was running, I got this urge to look back. So I did.

That’s when a humongous glob of this mushy, neon-green bird poop landed right smack on my face.

It was so disgusting!

I wish I would have closed my eyes and covered my nose because the stuff seeped into them. My eyes felt like they were on fire and my nose tingled and itched. And then, when I screamed, it dripped into my mouth. It felt so slimy and gooey. And it tasted salty. I fell to the ground, covering my face with my hands.

I really tried hard to keep my cool. But then I heard this crackling, sizzling sound inside my ears, and my eyes started to see all of these flashing lights, and my nose smelled this awful alien odor.

I thought I was a goner, so I jumped up and started to run, waving my arms back and forth high above my head. I tried to scream for help, but the only sound that rattled out of my mouth was a gurgling sound.

This definitely wasn’t a proud moment for me.

As I continued to run around like a lunatic, a thought came to mind—I’m out in the open and a sitting duck if that mammoth-sized raptor decided to attack me again.

I froze in my tracks and looked up and down and left and right, searching for the raptor. And I felt a strange chill through my body when I found it. It was lying next to the nest that had come crashing down to the ground.

Is it alive? I thought.

Curious, I hurried over to it.

When I got there, the raptor wasn’t moving or breathing.

“Huh?” I mumbled.

A small bird had popped its head out of the nest.

It was so cute!

Its tiny body was covered mostly with brownish feathers. But it also had some blue on its head and wings and these mysterious black markings just under its eyes.

Klee, klee!

Mommy?

The little guy just sat there, staring at the dead raptor with the saddest eyes. Every now and then, it would glance up at me. I had a weird feeling that the mammoth-sized bird lying on the ground was its mommy. Then a strange warmth filled my body. I felt an uncontrollable urge to protect the little guy.

Just as I was about to kneel down, something heavy touched my left shoulder.

“Aaaggghh!” I cried out, turning around quickly, ready to fight whatever had just touched me.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked, pulling his hand back.

“Jake, you scared me,” I said.

“Sorry, Josh,” said Jake. “You had me worried, running around like a crazy person after that bird stuff hit you.”

“Josh!” cried Madison, running up and throwing her body onto mine. She wrapped her arms tightly around me. “I’m so glad you are alive.”

“I’m fine, guys,” I replied. “But I’m not sure this little guy is.”

Madison released her grip. We all looked down at the baby raptor, unsure what to do next.

“That was one crazy bird’s mom!” chuckled Jake. “And I can’t believe a raptor’s poop landed right smack in your eye.”

“That was pretty gross,” said Madison.

“Did you know that there is a one in a million chance for that to ever happen to anyone?” stated Jake. “And if it does, you’ll have good luck!”

“Really?” I said.

“Yep!” replied Jake.

“I could use some luck after having all that green poop stuff splatter all over my face.”

Jake and Madison started to laugh. I frowned at first, but then started to laugh too. It was funny—but really gross.

I was glad I was wearing a green jersey. I tilted my head down and lifted the front of it, using it to wipe the stuff off of my face.

“Josh, you’re looking a little less green,” said Jake, chuckling.

“Ha, ha,” I sneered.

Klee. Klee.

“Aw,” I said, kneeling down and scooping the baby bird up.

“No!” Madison shouted in her sweet raspy voice.

But it was too late. I had touched a wild bird, which Mom had told us never to do. She said that once a wild bird has a human’s scent on it, it would never be able to survive in the wild again.

“Not cool, Josh,” said Jake.

“Now the baby bird is going to die,” whimpered Madison.

Jake chuckled. “That’s just a myth, Madison,” he said. “Mom told us that, so we don’t bring home any wild animals for a pet.

“Oh,” Madison said.

The little guy looked up at me as I was stroking the top of his soft feathery head. When our eyes connected, I felt as if he had always been part of my life.

“Come on. Let’s take him home and get him all cleaned up,” I said, walking to my bike.

“Mom and Dad aren’t going to be very happy,” said Madison, standing with her arms folded across her chest.

Jake shook his head and said, “Yeah, they definitely aren’t going to be happy that we brought a wild baby raptor home when we have two cats and an oversized goldendoodle.”

“Raptor or not, Mom will end up letting us keep it. Remember when we found the three-legged frog. Mom was so worried that it would get eaten up by some ferocious animal that she let us keep it as a pet,” I said.

Jake chuckled and said, “Yeah, Dad wasn’t too happy about that one.”

We headed home with Max. That’s what we named the baby raptor because all of us thought Max was a cool name. And it was the name that we were going to name my baby sister Isabella if she had been a boy.