Chapter Six: No Promises

“That was awkward,” Kaliyan said, then turned to Skylar. “So, what’d you need us so badly for? It’d better have been important, ‘cause you scared us out of our skin.”

Skylar grinned up at her, then shook his shaggy head, as if saying that it wasn’t important. Then he turned to me. Since you already know that I can talk like this, he told me with a wolfy grin, I’ll just tell you that I was listening into your conversation—I have ears like a wolf, remember—and I heard that you found a book that worked. Right?

I nodded. “That’s so cool. But yeah, we’re headed to the Amazon River, hopefully, if we could find a way to convince our parents to let us go…”

Well, you’ve come to the right canine. Skylar pulled my bag down with his teeth, then pawed—no pun intended—through it, finally tugging out a notebook and pen. “Okay, okay, I’ll get it,” I told him, laughing slightly, and opened the notebook to the right page.

Skylar took it and quickly started writing, holding the pen between two non-opposable fingers.

Congratulations!
WolfBane Inc. invites you and 3 friends to enjoy a splendid two months vacationing in the Cayman Islands. Your hotel is located on Rum Point, Grand Cayman, and your plane tickets are already paid for—the plane will be leaving at 3:30 pm, on the afternoon of June the 15th.
Thank you,
Timothy Bane
CEO, WolfBane Inc.

“So, whoever I give that to, their spouse, and the other two can go?” I asked Skylar, who nodded and nudged the beautifully-written page towards me with his nose. “Awesome, Skylar, thanks!” I hugged him tight—or his neck, at least—and showed the paper to Kaliyan. “This is how we’re going to be able to go to the Amazon River,” I told her.

I can pay for your plane tickets, too, Skylar said. Let’s just say that I know a guy who knows a pretty rich guy, who’s pretty charitable. He’ll definitely go for this.

The grin that stretched across my face could be rivaled by none as I squeezed Skylar’s furry neck yet harder, then turned to Kaliyan. “We’ll be flying free of charge, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Skylar! I don’t think we could do this without you!”

“No, we couldn’t, because without him we wouldn’t even want to go to Brazil,” Kaliyan pointed out. We laughed together for a moment, and I heard a huffing sound coming from Skylar: the silly grin on his face hinted that he was laughing, too.

I sighed happily. “Well, that takes care of that, then. Now we go stick this in the mailbox, along with the tickets, which I’m sure Skylar will somehow get…?”

Skylar bobbed his huge head. I’ve got a Pack, he reminded me. They’re not stuck, and they know the guy who knows the rich guy as well as…well, probably better than I do. He leaned into me in what I suppose was meant to be a reassuring way, but I almost fell over with the sudden weight. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.

“Thanks again, Skye,” I repeated. “You’re awesome.”

Kaliyan rolled her eyes. “Okay, lovebirds, time to go. Meet us at Emily's house when you get the plane tickets for four to Grand Cayman, and for…two or three to northern Brazil somewhere…and get that letter written on normal paper, too—it won’t convince anyone if it’s on some wrinkled piece of notebook paper.”

Both my and Skylar’s answering nods were brisk, and soon Kaliyan and I were on our way to my house, probably to watch more movies and while away the time until our adventure began. My only thought as the front door creaked open was, Hopefully he won’t take too long.

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“Finally!” I shouted as I rushed to the door, opening it wide to accommodate the wolf who was standing behind it, a service dog pack slung over his back.

I peeled the pack open and dug through it, pulling out the official-looking envelope containing the letter, and two envelopes containing our separate tickets. There were 4 for Grand Cayman and only 2 for Brazil—Skylar had assured us that he could run that far in the same amount of time, if not less time, than a plane could fly the same distance.

I wasn’t sure if I believed him fully, but I accepted his terms, as he was the one paying for the tickets in the first place. This wasn’t the time to argue.

Kaliyan and I thanked Skylar, then went to pack, very lightly. I packed one change of clothes—a pair of jean shorts very similar to the ones I was wearing and an old, faded blue t-shirt—as well as a blanket, sunglasses, and tons of money.

Then I slung my bag onto my back and headed to the kitchen, grabbing an A&W for the ride to the airport. Kaliyan emerged from the guest room with her bag, which was…well, as if she were packing for a week-long pleasure trip to Florida.

“Get rid of all that stuff except for one change of clothes and money, Kaliyan,” I instructed, rolling my eyes. “We’re not going on vacation, and we’ll be walking a ton. So you’ll be lugging whatever you pack around as you hike. Capesche?”

Kaliyan smiled sheepishly and went back into the room, emerging a few minutes later with a backpack much like my own. “Better?” she asked, the sheepish smile still on her face.
“Much.”

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Security, as usual, was horrible, but we lived through it and got onto the plane with no problem, flashing our passports multiple times as we went. The ride was thoroughly uneventful, but extremely long, and when we finally arrived at the Eduardo Gomes International Airport in Brazil, my legs felt weak and rubbery from disuse, and I was hardly able to stumble down the aisle.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Kaliyan muttered as she staggered along behind me. “God, my legs are, like…ugh. Blah this.”

I shot her a look, then we struggled towards the shuttles. To my immense surprise, there was Skylar, sitting right next to the door with his service dog pack on. “You’re a little too big to be a Husky,” I whispered to him as we walked towards a wagon that was headed to the city of Manaus, Brazil.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, he replied with a wolfy chuckle.

We boarded the wagon, and were shown to our seats by a dark-skinned native, who told us in accented English that his name was Miguel Mendes, and that he was there to help us and our ‘dog.’ We thanked him, of course, but said that we needed no help.

“I will be here when you do, then,” Miguel responded, then turned around and shouted, to the man astride the horse in front, “A aprovação, deixou-nos vai!”

Whatever that means, I thought to myself with a wry smile.

After a short while of bumping along a dirt path, I decided to ask Miguel some questions. “So Miguel, what language do you speak here?”

He just shrugged. “Mainly Portuguese, but some of a language called Nhengatu,” he told us. “I was speaking Portuguese to Davi up there, earlier.”

“Escute! Nós estamos quase lá!” Davi, the man on the horse, called back.

Miguel nodded sharply. “Quanto hora?” he asked.

“Talvez cinco minutos.”

I grinned. “Hey, I understood some of that. Davi said…well, ‘escute’ sounds kind of like ‘escuche,’ in Spanish, so he said something like ‘Listen! We are…something.’ And then you asked how much time it would take, and he said something, then ‘five minutes.’”

“Very astute,” Miguel said. “Portuguese is much like Spanish…By the way, he said that we were almost there, and talvez means ‘maybe’ or ‘about.’”

Kaliyan nodded. “So Emily can probably translate a little bit…right, Em?”

“Well, I can try…but no promises.”