CHAPTER FOUR

The little plane careened down the school driveway toward the busy intersection, where trucks and buses rumbled across their path.

Imminent death, Elliot thought. Destruction. Doom. Disaster.

Of course he didn’t say those words. He was too busy screaming.

At the last possible second, the professor yanked back on the yoke. The Phoenix zoomed upward, grazing the top of an eighteen-wheeler truck.

“ALL RIGHT!” Uchenna whooped, over the panicked blast of the truck’s horn.

Elliot stopped screaming. He was still terrified. He’d just run out of air in his lungs. He took a deep breath and considered whether he should start screaming again. He decided against it. He’d save his voice for the crash landing.

Uchenna gazed out the side window as the plane banked and headed west. Below them she could see their school, the forest, and the smokestacks of the Schmoke Industries power plant. Jersey climbed up on her head for a better view.

The professor said, “Elliot, you said Bigfoot was a myth.”

Elliot exhaled. They were flying smoothly now. He pushed back his mop of curly hair and sat up straighter. Discussing mythical creatures with Professor Fauna was one of his favorite things.

“I did. Every single photo or video has been revealed as a fraud. Thousands of people search for Bigfoot every year, and yet there’s still no evidence that it exists.”

“Ah . . . but, Elliot, surely you are aware of the common mistake you are making. A dearth of proof is not a proof of dearth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Uchenna asked.

“For centuries,” Professor Fauna said, flipping some switches on the dashboard of the little plane—switches that definitely did not do anything—“the scientists of Europe believed that giant apes of all kinds were myths. Orangutans, gorillas, even chimpanzees were unknown, and stories of hairy, manlike creatures in the jungles were thought to be only that—stories. The French believed that orangutans were merely humans living without the benefits of roads and toilets. ¡Qué raro! Do I look like an orangutan to you?” Then Professor Fauna made a face like an orangutan.

Uchenna said, “Sorta?”

Professor Fauna ignored her. “Europeans encountered chimpanzees only four hundred years ago! And, until very recently, they didn’t even realize that there are two different species of chimpanzees: chimps and bonobos.”

Just then, Uchenna noticed that the sky was turning black and the clouds were getting thicker. She nudged Elliot. But he was too engrossed in Professor Fauna’s lecture. Jersey had curled up in Elliot’s lap and fallen asleep.

“The case of the gorilla is truly interesting,” the professor went on, now completely ignoring the sky and the airplane’s controls. “There were reports more than two thousand years ago about giant apes in tropical Africa, twice as big as a human! But, until 1847, scientists believed that the gorilla was no more than a story! That is barely a hundred and fifty years ago!”

The little plane was starting to shake as it entered the black clouds. Uchenna said, “Elliot, have you checked your—”

“Shhh,” Elliot hushed her. “I need to learn this before we meet Mack gәqidәb and the Muckleshoot.”

“All over the world,” the professor went on, “there are stories of giant ape creatures. There are the yeti of the Himalayas, the orang pendek of Indonesia, the yowie in Australia. . . . If the gorilla was discovered only a hundred fifty years ago, might not all of these apelike creatures exist?”

“Maybe,” said Elliot. “But—”

“Elliot,” Uchenna interrupted, tightening her seat belt. “You’d better—”

“Uchenna,” Elliot said, “can it wait just one min—”

Suddenly, a massive gust of wind hit the plane so hard that the Phoenix turned upside down. Elliot found himself pasted to the roof of the little aircraft and then, as the plane righted itself, back in his seat. “Gunnnh,” he groaned.

Uchenna reached over. “Your seat belt’s not on.” She strapped her friend in.

Elliot muttered, “Thank you,” and closed his eyes.