Once Upon a Toad

  Or not.

  “Well, whaddya know,” Pearl exclaimed as she, too, opened her eyes and sat up. “We’re back in Oregon.”

  The door to the RV flew open and Great-Aunt Abyssinia breezed in carrying a bag of doughnuts and a cardboard tray with five steaming paper cups. “Rise and shine, ladies and Elvis,” she said cheerily. “Busy day ahead. Let’s see here, I have two hot chocolates”—she passed Olivia and me each a cup—“and a double cappuccino for you, Pearl. Your favorite, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  Great-Aunt Aby flapped her hand dismissively. “You talk in your sleep.” She nudged the sleeping Elvis impersonator’s shoulder, and he jolted upright, regarding her with reproachful eyes.

  “You kidnapped me!” he said as she took off his gag.

  “Nonsense,” Great-Aunt Aby replied. “Consider it a free vacation. Who wouldn’t want to travel to beautiful Portland, Oregon?” She thrust a paper cup into his bound hands. “Nonfat half-caff caramel macchiato, extra hot, extra foam.”

  He blinked at her, speechless.

  “You can thank me later.” Pulling the stool out from under the table, my great-aunt lowered her giant frame onto it and took a sip from her own cup. “And for me, a soy latte.” She grinned at the four of us. “Full house this morning. I can’t remember the last time we had this much company, can you, Archie?”

  Archibald, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the toad I was holding in my hand since it appeared, twitched his tail.

  “Catriona, honey, why don’t you pass me that critter so I can put it outside,” said my great-aunt, putting her finger to her lips. Her big teeth were nowhere in sight. “Safer for the little thing that way.”

  “And for the rest of us,” said Pearl with a shudder. “Toads are definitely not my favorite thing to wake up to in the morning. How about you, Elvis?”

  Our sequin-spangled visitor looked from her to Great-Aunt Aby to me and back again in bewilderment. “All shook up,” he said.

  “Of course you are,” said Great-Aunt Aby soothingly. “Don’t worry, this is a round-trip vacation. We’ll be sending you home again to Las Vegas shortly.”

  Pearl swung her legs over the edge of the RV’s sofa and stood up. “Did you—I mean did we—”

  “Yep,” said Great-Aunt Abyssinia. “You four slept through the whole trip.”

  “What about my car?”

  “The Red Rocket is safe and sound,” my great-aunt assured her. “She’s still hooked to my trailer hitch.”

  Pearl went over to the window to check. “Well, whaddya know,” she said again.

  I had the distinct feeling that my great-aunt wasn’t telling the whole truth. I didn’t recall driving anywhere last night. In fact, except for the showdown at the Tunnel of Love Wedding Chapel—especially the part where Great-Aunt Aby caught me after I let go of the rope—I didn’t recall much of anything about last night. From the look on his face, I didn’t think Fake Elvis did either.

  “Switch on that TV, would you, Pearl?” said Great-Aunt Aby.

  Pearl did as she was asked, and a familiar face flashed onscreen. It was the reporter who’d turned up on our doorstep the night Olivia spit out the diamond after the talent show.

  “Good news this morning, folks! Diamond Girl has been found!”

  I leaped to my feet, spilling my hot chocolate. My father had gotten my note!

  “She and her sister were discovered last night hiding in Forest Park. Apparently the poor things had been rattled by all the, uh, media attention”—she had the grace to look a little sheepish at this—“but all’s well that ends well, and they’re safe and sound again at home with their parents.”

  “Clock’s a-ticking, everyone,” said Great-Aunt Abyssinia. “The mission is a go and we’re at T minus one hour and counting.” She crooked her finger at Fake Elvis. “You—come with me. How would you like to earn some real bling to go with that outfit?”

  He glanced down at his white jumpsuit, looking confused. My great-aunt held out her hand, and Olivia obligingly sang the alphabet, filling her palm with glittering gems.

  “You’re Diamond Girl!” Fake Elvis said, staring at her in amazement.

  My stepsister curtsied primly.

  “And you’re her sister,” he said, taking a closer look at me and putting two and two together. “I thought you were a boy.”

  Olivia grinned and I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “Well, she’s not,” said Pearl. “This here’s Cat, and that there’s Olivia, and their little brother has been kidnapped. We’re fixing to get him back.”

  Fake Elvis looked confused. “But the TV just said—”

  My great-aunt flapped a big hand at him. “It’s a ruse,” she explained. “All part of the plan—Catriona’s plan, that is.” She beamed at me. “If the kidnappers thought the girls were still missing, they wouldn’t bother showing up at the rendezvous this morning.”

  He frowned.

  “We could use some extra help,” Great-Aunt Aby continued. “We’re heading for the zoo in an hour.” She pointed at his feet. “You’ll want to change out of those nice blue suede shoes, though. There may be some penguin poo involved.”

  Fake Elvis looked alarmed at this news, and Great-Aunt Abby patted his arm consolingly.

  “I have a pair of hiking boots I think will fit you,” she told him, which only seemed to confuse him further.

  Playing her winning card, my great-aunt stretched out her palm. The sparkling stones made a tantalizing pile. “They’re yours if you care to join us.”

  Her offer seemed to clear our guest’s head. He got to his feet, nodding vigorously.

  “Thought so,” Great-Aunt Aby replied, a note of triumph in her voice.

  As we all scattered to get dressed, I sent a text to A.J.: Back in Portland. Not sure how.

  Me neither, he texted back. According to FGPS, U made the trip from Vegas in 12.3 seconds.

  I stared at the cell phone screen. Great-Aunt Abyssinia definitely wasn’t telling the whole truth. There had to have been a wand involved here somewhere. No way had we gone a thousand miles in 12.3 seconds. Not even if this RV had wings.

  Did u see the news this morning?

  Apparently you’ve been found. Congratulations.

  Yep. Connor came through, I replied. Did u let Hawkwinds know the plan?

  Yes, A.J. replied. All systems go.

  Back at the campground yesterday, before the unscheduled Vegas detour and our apparently near-instantaneous return trip to Portland, Great-Aunt Aby and Pearl and Olivia and I had worked out a strategy for this morning. I’d texted the details to A.J. and asked him to arrange some backup at the penguin exhibit. We all agreed that the Hawkwinds, plus Connor, were our best bet, since they already knew what was going on, and since they’d already be at the zoo on the field trip.

  I slipped Connor’s cell phone into my pocket and waited my turn for the bathroom, where I changed back into my Olivia’s-little-brother disguise. It probably wouldn’t fool anybody for too long—especially not the FBI agents who would be crawling all over the zoo—but it was better than nothing.

  When I was finished, I knocked on the door to my great-aunt’s bedroom.

  “Come in!” she said.

  Great-Aunt Abyssinia was standing in front of the mirror, holding up earrings and turning her head this way and that. “Parrots or pineapples?”

  “Uh,” I said. They were both hideous. Thrift-store finds, most likely.

  “Yep,” she said, putting both pairs away. “You’re right.” She bent down and grabbed my latest toad, then popped it out the window. “They wouldn’t go with my outfit anyway.”

  She’d traded her purple fleece for a large navy blue one-piece coverall. It looked like something a mechanic might wear, especially with the hiking boots.

  “You all need to see this,” called Pearl from the RV’s living room.

  We joined her in front of the TV, where she was watching a news update. She pointed wordlessly a
t the screen. On it was a picture of a giant pumpkin.

  My eyes widened as I realized that the pumpkin was perched on the roof of the Tunnel of Love. A white rat ran frantic circles around the base of it.

  I gave my great-aunt an admiring look. This was more like it!

  “Sometimes I get things right,” she whispered smugly.

  “No one knows just how the pumpkin got here,” said the reporter as the camera zoomed in for a closer look. “The Tunnel of Love is temporarily closed until city workers finish clearing it away, but as a thank-you to any wedding parties who rebook, the management is offering free pumpkin pies while supplies last.”

  “Mighty odd happenings last night, yes sirree,” said Pearl, sliding her eyes over to my great-aunt.

  Great-Aunt Aby winked at me. “Mighty odd place, Las Vegas.”

  Pearl frowned. “Sure wish I could remember more of what happened.”

  My great-aunt nodded sympathetically. “Vegas tends to have that effect on people.”

  The picture on-screen switched to something closer to home. A little too close to home, in fact. The news crew was standing right outside in the Rose Garden.

  “A pair of burst water mains have all but cut off access to the zoo this morning,” announced the local reporter. “Kingston Road between the Rose Garden and the zoo parking lot is closed completely for the time being, and there’s quite a bottleneck on Highway Twenty-six at the zoo exit as well, as school buses from all over the city converge for Portland’s annual ‘Field Trip Friday.’ Northbound and southbound lanes are partially blocked, with road crews working feverishly to make the necessary repairs. Commuters may want to look for alternate routes.”

  “That’s the FBI’s doing,” said Pearl. “They’re establishing a perimeter and limiting access.”

  “How do you know?” asked Fake Elvis.

  “I watch a lot of cop shows on TV.” She shot my great-aunt a worried look. “How will we get there if we can’t drive? We don’t have a whole lot of time left.”

  “Too bad the zoo train isn’t running yet,” Olivia said. “It doesn’t start until Memorial Day, though.”

  Great-Aunt Abyssinia’s eyes glinted behind her glasses. “Doesn’t it? That’s funny, I could swear I heard it just now.”

  She opened the door, and sure enough, in the distance we heard the hoot of a steam engine’s whistle.

  “What are you waiting for?” she said, grinning at our astonishment and setting an engineer’s cap at a jaunty angle atop her bright orange hair. “All aboard!”

  CHAPTER 25

  “Best vacation I’ve had in years!” hollered Fake Elvis, sticking his head out the window of the zoo train’s passenger car and lifting his nose to the wind like a retriever. He looked different in the full light of day. The only thing left of his costume from last night was his tinted sunglasses. Along with the white sequined jumpsuit and blue suede shoes, he’d left his black pompadour wig back in the RV, and it turned out that underneath he was as hairless as a Ping-Pong ball. I decided to think of him as Bald Elvis from now on. “You girls sure know how to have fun!”

  Pearl grinned at him. In the engine cab ahead of us, Great-Aunt Abyssinia tootled the whistle again. The train sped along the narrow tracks that skirted the edge of the steep, forested canyon between the Rose Garden and the zoo. It was a little spooky under the canopy of trees, especially since we were the only passengers. I still wasn’t exactly sure how Great-Aunt Aby had arranged to have the train waiting for us, but I guessed there were some perks to being a fairy godmother, even a slightly defective one.

  Bald Elvis was clearly enjoying himself, but my stomach was in knots. What if Dr. Dalton was there and spotted Olivia? She was the key to our plan for getting Geoffrey back. What if we bungled things somehow?

  Beside me, Olivia looked equally nervous.

  “Do you think Hawk Creek will make it?” she whispered with an anxious flurry of crocuses.

  I shrugged. The dismal traffic report made it sound like getting to the zoo would be a nightmare. The only good thing Field Trip Friday had going for it was that Mrs. Bonneville was in charge, and Mrs. Bonneville didn’t like delays. They were on her list of rules.

  We chugged to a crawl near the perimeter of the zoo, then came to a stop just outside the wolf enclosure.

  “This is as far as she goes,” my great-aunt told us. “Can’t afford to have anyone spot the train, so you’ll have to go on foot along the tracks from here.”

  I leaned forward. “Aren’t you coming?” I whispered, risking a toad. I flicked it into the shrubbery alongside the track. Bald Elvis still didn’t know about my affliction, and I figured I might as well keep it that way.

  She shook her head. “I’m going to try and bring the RV around. Good luck, and whatever you do, try to blend in.”

  Fat chance of that, I thought. We looked like a bunch of hillbillies. Bald Elvis was wearing a coverall just like Great-Aunt Aby’s and chewing a toothpick; Pearl and her updo were swaddled in the bright orange poncho she’d borrowed from my great-aunt; and my stepsister had replaced her lost Mariner’s cap with a straw sun hat she’d dredged up from a storage cupboard in the RV. It was obviously one of Great-Aunt Abyssinia’s thrift-store finds and looked like Archie had used it as a chew toy. And then there was me: aspiring toad huntress disguised as a small boy, but really just Catriona Skye Starr, twelve-year-old toad spitter.

  I shook my head as we trudged off down the tracks.

  I would have felt better with my great-aunt along for backup, but what with her unpredictable skills and all, maybe it was better this way. The zoo could be a dangerous place for an occupationally challenged fairy godmother. If she messed up here, who knew what could happen. I didn’t want to end up as a penguin. Or lunch for one.

  “Hey!” shouted a uniformed man a few minutes later as the four of us stepped from the train tracks onto the deserted platform. “What are you doing over there? The tracks are off-limits!”

  “Just looking for the little boys’ room,” Pearl replied brightly. She tucked her arm through Bald Elvis’s and pointed at me. “Our grandson had to go, and since we couldn’t find it, we headed for the woods. Any port in a storm, right?” She laughed a tinkling little laugh, and I hung my head and scuffed my feet, pretending to be embarrassed.

  Which I was. We were a freak show.

  It was quick thinking on Pearl’s part, though, I had to admit. Still, why did I always have to be the butt of every joke? Beside me, Olivia suppressed a laugh. I shot her the stink eye.

  The zoo employee pointed wordlessly across the platform to the door clearly marked MEN’S ROOM.

  “Well, whaddya know,” exclaimed Pearl, pretending to be astonished. “Can you believe that, kids?”

  Shaking his head in disgust, the employee walked off.

  “That was a close one,” whispered Pearl. Letting go of Bald Elvis’s arm, she took my hand and put her arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “Stay close, kids, and remember, girls—no diamonds and no toads.”

  “Huh?” said Bald Elvis, who was still clueless in the toad department.

  “Nothing,” said Pearl.

  The four of us made our way to the penguin exhibit and got in line outside. The plan was to keep a low profile, avoid Dr. Dalton at all costs, and see what we could do to help grab Geoffrey back in case the FBI’s plan went awry. Two heads were always better than one, so we figured, why not two plans?

  Now that everyone thought my stepsister and I were safe and sound, the FBI would be bringing along a stand-in for Olivia. At least that’s what I’d suggested. We’d be there in case anything went wrong with Plan A.

  Bald Elvis had agreed to be the muscle for Plan B. He was middle-aged and a little pudgy, but the bald head kind of made him look like a boxer. He was going to act as Olivia’s bodyguard and, if needed, run interference with the kidnappers while Pearl and I grabbed my little brother. Great-Aunt Aby’s job was to bring the RV around to the zoo entrance. I’d been skeptical about
using it as the getaway vehicle, but now that I knew it could make it from Las Vegas to Portland in 12.3 seconds, I was willing to give the RV a little more respect. If Great-Aunt Aby couldn’t get around the roadblock, we’d have to improvise. There was always public transportation. My dad is forever bragging about how great it is in Portland. I hoped we wouldn’t have to put it to the test, though.

  We’d also eventually have to sort out the whole diamond and toad mess. Right now, though, the main thing was to get Geoffrey back and keep Olivia out of Dr. Dalton’s clutches, and a lifetime of captivity in Area 51.

  I regarded the line of people in front of the penguin exhibit. Which ones were FBI? Police? Plain old zoo visitors? Were the kidnappers here too? It was impossible to tell. There was no sign of Dad and Iz yet, nor did I see my little brother anywhere. And so far there weren’t any Hawk Creek students, either.

  All of a sudden Olivia stiffened. I looked to see what had caught her attention, and sucked in my breath sharply. Dr. Dalton was sitting on a bench across from the exhibit entrance. He was reading a newspaper and trying to look casual in a sweatshirt and baseball cap, but I’d know him anywhere. He looked up from his reading, his intense eyes scanning the crowd. Olivia turned her back to him, her face drained of color.

  We both stood motionless, until his gaze passed over us, then sagged with relief. I grabbed Pearl and pointed him out surreptitiously.

  “Dalton?” she whispered, frowning.

  I nodded, and she relayed the message to Bald Elvis, who sized him up. “He’s the one who wants to take you to Area Fifty-one?” he asked my stepsister.

  She nodded.

  “Not on my watch,” Bald Elvis told her stoutly. He looked at me. “And he can’t have you, either.”

  I became an Elvis fan right then and there.

  The exhibit doors opened and the line moved forward. As we descended the long hallway that led into the Penguinarium, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

  “Mrs. Bonneville wants everyone to stay with their assigned partners! No wandering off!”