Читать книгу Mysteries in Our National Parks: Cliff-Hanger: A Mystery in Mesa Verde National Park - Gloria Skurzynski - Страница 10

Jack tossed restlessly. Lying flat on the edge of the cliff, he clutched brittle rock with his fingernails as he stared down a vast chasm to the canyon floor. Then the rock crumbled into sand, shattering his safe handhold, plunging him into peril. He was falling. He heard the wind, heard Lucky’s voice whisper, “Mesa Verde.” Or maybe it was the wind that sighed the words as they streamed around him: “Flying. Flying. To Colorado.”

With a start, he rose out of the terrifying plunge of his dream to find his fingers curled stiffly around the edge of his quilt. Still, the soft voice whispered inside his head, even after he convinced himself he was awake and was no longer dreaming. Jack rolled out of his bed onto his feet and padded to the bedroom door, opening it just a crack.

A small, arched alcove in the hall held one of the Landons’ telephones. Lucky stood there, hunched over, cradling the receiver, speaking in low tones with her back turned toward Jack’s door. Barefoot, she’d wrapped herself in a terry cloth robe Olivia had lent her. As she pressed the phone against her ear, the robe’s full sleeve slid back to reveal her wristwatch. Jack had noticed the watch earlier in the evening. He remembered thinking then that it was a large, chunky-looking one for a girl to wear. More like a man’s. Now he could easily read the glowing digital numbers: 2:10 a.m. The middle of the night.

“It’ll be OK,” she was saying softly. “Don’t worry so much. I can handle them.”

She hung up then. When she turned around and noticed Jack, she jumped in surprise. No smile this time: Her startled eyes turned as cold as green ice. “What did you hear?” she demanded.

He stammered, “Nothing. Just, like, something about you can handle—I don’t know what.” His eyebrows drew together as his mind focused on her and on the telephone that now lay back in its cradle. She shouldn’t be here, calling someone in secret. The last of his sleepiness evaporated as his mind finally comprehended what was happening. “Wait, what are you doing? Who were you calling?”

It seemed to Jack that a lot of different looks flitted across Lucky’s face, as if she were searching for the right one. Suddenly, her face turned soft, pleading.

“Shhhh!” She pointed toward Steven and Olivia’s bedroom door. “Quiet! Please?” Then, gesturing toward the living room, she tiptoed down the hall, away from where the rest of the Landons were sleeping. Jack followed, not sure what he should do, but knowing he could call out for his folks in an instant if he needed them. For now, he wanted to understand what Lucky was up to.

She motioned for him to sit on the couch, then perched on a footstool opposite him, gazing at him like someone about to ask a favor. Keep it together, Jack warned himself. Stay cool. Get information. “So,” he asked softly. “What’s going on?”

“I…I don’t know if I can tell you,” she whispered. Then, a beat later, she added, “I don’t know if I should.”

“What is it?”

Lucky stayed silent.

“Is it something bad?”

“Yes.”

Bad! Jack’s stomach squeezed. With a foster kid that could mean all kinds of things, problems that Jack wouldn’t know how to deal with. “Listen,” he began, “maybe I should get my folks—”

“No!” Lucky said the word with such force that Jack blinked. “I’m sorry, it’s just—I need to tell someone, and I thought, since you’re so….” She took a breath, then shook her head. “But not anyone else—not your folks and not the social workers. Your mom’s already all upset about the cougar and all the problems at Mesa Verde. She couldn’t handle this, too. She’d send me back, and that could get me killed.”

“Killed! Wait a minute, wait a minute. I don’t get this. I need to go one step at a time. Who was on the phone?”

“Maria. She’s my friend from where I used to live.”

Jack turned on a small table lamp, which sent a flare of light through the room. He had to be able to see her better, to make sense of the words going into his head. “Maria—is she the one who’s trying to hurt you?”

“No. Jack, Maria was almost killed by gang members.”

“Gang members?”

“We were together—Maria and me—when we saw the gang do a crime. They found us out.” Lucky squeezed her eyes shut, but continued. “We tried to run, but they caught us and said that if we ever told, they’d find us both and kill us. Maria started screaming. They didn’t like that. They beat her up real, real bad.” She shuddered, barely whispering the last words. “I was faster. I got away.”

“Gang members?” Jack knew he sounded incredulous, but he couldn’t help it. Ms. Lopez had warned his parents to be careful of Lucky. Maybe he should be, too. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because suddenly, her green eyes pierced him like a laser. “You think I’m lying? You think I’m making this whole thing up?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to stay silent.

“You want me to prove it? Is that what it takes for you to believe?” Pulling up the right sleeve of the robe, Lucky revealed a nasty bruise, like an ugly shadow, on her forearm. “They gave me this,” she told him.

She must have been hit, and hit hard. Nothing short of a hard punch could have left such a mark. Quickly, Lucky pulled the sleeve back down and looked up at him again with her eyes wide. Stunned, Jack stared back. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say.

“When I first met you, Jack, I thought I could trust you. But I guess you’re not any different from everyone else. You need proof. If a bruise is what it takes for you to know I’m telling the truth, then I guess that’s what it takes. I want you to believe me. I need you to.”

“I do.” Living in Jackson Hole, Jack didn’t see much of the harsher side of life that some of their foster kids had dealt with every day. Jack’s own life was safe and well ordered. His mother and father cocooned him in love in a way that seemed quite ordinary to Jack, until he peered into others’ lives and saw the turmoil and pain. He should never forget just how fortunate he was.

“You know what bothers me the most?” Lucky asked him.

“What?”

“It bothers me when I think that it should have been me that’s in the hospital. Not Maria. I got away because I’m quick.”

“Lucky, you can’t feel bad about that. Things just…happen. I’m glad you made it.”

“But it’s not fair,” she wailed softly. “That’s why I have to call her, so I know she’s OK. I feel so guilty!” Hugging her sides tightly, Lucky crumpled into herself. “You know what just happened? Maria told me that the gang left a message. She said they’re still looking for me, and if I come back, I’m dead. That’s when I told her not to worry, that I could handle them. But the truth is, I’m scared.”

Perplexed, Jack asked, “What about the police? Tell them what’s going on. They’d protect you.”

Lucky shook her head and gave Jack a look full of pity. “You don’t know much about gangs, Jack. They have spies everywhere. You might not believe this, but some cops are gang members. I don’t trust anyone anymore.” She drew in a breath, then placed her hand lightly on his. “Except, maybe, you. I think I can trust you. You won’t tell anyone about Maria, will you Jack?”

“But my parents—”

“If you tell them, they’ve got to go to Social Services. It’s their responsibility. If you don’t say anything, then they won’t have to make that decision. It’d be like you’re protecting your parents, too.”

Jack figured that if his mother and father found out Lucky had made a call, they’d be bound by law to tell Ms. Lopez. It was better, Jack decided, to protect all of them. “I won’t tell,” he promised.

“Not Ashley, either? She seems sweet, but I don’t want her to worry—”

“Especially Ashley,” Jack added hastily. “You don’t know her yet, but she’s a blabbermouth. No, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Good. Thanks, Jack,” she breathed. “You just saved my life.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Uh…I didn’t really…I mean…. Hey, is all your stuff packed? We’re leaving for Mesa Verde pretty early, like in five hours. We ought to get some sleep.”

“All right. Good night, Jack,” she answered. “And…thanks! So much.”

Jack hurried down the hall to his room. Now it was 2:35 a.m. The red digital numbers on his bedroom clock pulsed second after second; he squeezed his eyelids tight, wondering how he’d ever get back to sleep.

He couldn’t erase the image of Lucky gazing up at him with those big green eyes, looking so defenseless—on the outside. But what was she like on the inside? He remembered Ms. Lopez telling his parents they should watch her. He pictured prim, kindly, gray-haired Ms. Lopez—not the kind of woman to make things up, but, then again, not a woman who’d known the whole story. Lucky could have confided in Ms. Lopez, but she hadn’t. She’d trusted Jack. Only him.

Flipping onto his stomach, he burrowed his face deep in the pillow. Whatever happened, he knew he was on Lucky’s side.