Another morning at Friendship Community School, another disappointment.

When Dad pulls the car into the parking lot, Paige is there, with two coffees, on her bench. Their bench.

“Doesn’t she have a job?” I ask as Dad and I get out of the car. Dad’s look tells me how rude he thinks that was. “I’m only asking because she has a lot of time for coffee.” That’s a good explanation, right?

“Her job’s a little like mine; she works with different clients on her own time.”

I’m sorry I mentioned it. Of all the things I don’t care about in the world, Paige’s job is close to the top of the list. So I just say, “Oh,” and then “See ya, Dad,” and I head toward school. I take one more look as Dad sits next to Paige on the bench and she hands him something that looks like a scrapbook or photo album. He opens it and looks inside, and they start to talk. Oh yippee, they’re sharing precious memories now.

Only one more day until the Siren Call. Thank goodness.

—

When it’s time for chemistry, I don’t feel the usual excitement of Ryder Landry singing you, you, you plus me, me, me. Today in class, I’ve got a goal that will mean the difference between success and failure with my Siren Call. And it’s going to be a lot harder than getting a pair of old glasses from Dad.

Though I’ve done my best to avoid Larry the last few days, when we push our desks together and he puts out Mono the monkey, I’m as friendly and smiley as his old pal Cleo used to be. Meanwhile, at the front of the room, Kevin tells us that today’s experiment is going to show us how some things can be a liquid and a solid at the same time.

“Like diarrhea!” cracks Lonnie Cheseboro. His brother laughs, but Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae are not amused. For once, I’m in agreement with them.

Kevin sighs. “No. Not like that,” he says. “Sometimes a liquid, when moved a certain way, becomes a solid, and vice versa.” He has the chemistry teams come to the front of the room to pick up bowls full of cornstarch, which he explains is used for thickening up liquids in cooking and stuff. Then we need to go to the sink and mix it with water to see what happens next.

“You want to mix first?” Larry asks.

I look down at the watery yellow mixture, remembering the bucket of papier-mâché Madison used to make her Ryder head. I gulp. “How about you start?”

He plunges his hands in with no problem at all. “Do you see how it’s becoming more and more solid as you knead it?” Kevin asks as he walks around the room. “The molecules are being forced into the middle of each grain of powder because of the pressure you’re putting on it.”

Sure enough, the cornstarch looks like it’s turning into a blob of clay right before my eyes. Now I have no problem checking it out. Kevin tells us we can even punch the mixture. When I do, it feels hard. I punch it again and it even cracks a little!

“Hey, take it easy!” Larry jokes. “What’d this cornstarch ball ever do to you?”

I laugh and hand it back to him. When our hands touch, I pull back quickly. Laughing together might be okay, but touching is definitely not good, especially with Samantha just across the classroom! Which reminds me of my other, more important goal for today’s chemistry class—getting Larry’s monkey. And I’m going to have to do it soon.

Kevin tells us to put the blob back into the bowl, and that’s when a magical—or chemical—thing happens. It goes back to being a liquid! When Larry puts his hand in and lifts it up, the mixture falls through his fingers. “That’s cool,” I say.

“You gotta try it.”

“Ewww, no, I can’t.”

“Yes you can! Deep down you have a sense of adventure, and this is adventurous. It’s like playing in quicksand!”

Larry’s right. And he doesn’t know half the adventures I’ve had. If I can take a bath in bay leaves and not know what’s going to happen, why can’t I do this?

I grit my teeth and plunge a hand in. It’s actually not as gross and clammy as Madison’s papier-mâché. Larry lifts up his monkey to take a look. “All right!” he says. “Mono is proud of you!”

This is it! Larry has given me the perfect opening. It’s time to do what I came here to do, no matter how tough it’s going to be. “I’m glad he liked it,” I say. I lean over like I’m talking to the little monkey. “Have you ever seen anything like that where you’re from?” Then I look up at Larry. “Where is he from again?”

“Costa Rica,” he says. “In Central America.”

“That’s so cool!” I say, looking at the monkey more closely. He’s almost smiling and has a little mischief in his tiny eyes. He really is cute. But more importantly, he’s an extension of who Larry is. Mono will make the Siren Call work, and after that, Larry will like Samantha instead of me!

As Larry and I empty our gunk into a trash can and return the bowl to Kevin, it’s finally time to make my move. “Do you think I could take him home for the weekend? I’d love to show him to my dad.”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking uncertain. “Maybe instead I could show Mono to your dad in the parking lot when he picks you up.”

Darn it! Why is Larry so smart? “Yeah, that would be great…,” I say, stalling for time. “But, you know what, my uncle Arnie is coming to town on Sunday, and he’s the one who would really love it.” I catch myself saying the word love and I stop for a second. But I have to go on. “He’s always wanted to visit Costa Rica because he…” I can’t say the word love again. “He likes monkeys so much.”

“I don’t know,” Larry says again, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose this battle. For one terrible second, I actually think about stealing Mono. But I can’t. No matter how awkward Larry has made my life for the last couple of days, I couldn’t do that.

Larry picks up the monkey and looks at it. “I haven’t been away from this monkey in a long time,” he says. “But you know what? I’m a man. I can handle it. You’re my friend, Cleo. I…like you.”

He took a pause before like. I’m sure he was thinking love, but I’m so glad he didn’t say it.

Then Larry hands me the monkey.

“Oh my gosh, thanks so much!” I wrap my hand around Mono’s little body and I can feel all the delicate carving against my fingers. “I can’t believe…I mean, my uncle’s going to be so excited. Thanks, Larry!”

I’m so happy, I do the dumbest thing possible. With the entire class wandering around, cleaning their desks and washing their bowls, I hug Larry.

Larry steps back, surprise shooting out of his eyes. I step back even farther. I’m the one who did it, but I’m even more shocked than he is. Across the room, Samantha looks sour. I want to run over to her and explain how this is all a misunderstanding and the only reason I hugged Larry was because he gave me his monkey, which will get him one step closer to loving her instead of me. But I’m not allowed. The universe said so.

“Cleo and Larry, sittin’ in a tree, just like dates for the Bling Bling would be.” Lisa Lee, walking back to her desk, smirks at her own brilliance.

I glare at her, but my evil eye only hits the back of her head. What she thinks doesn’t matter. I’ve got my offerings for the universe tomorrow, and I’m ready to go.

—

When Dad picks me up, I rush to the car and scrunch down in my seat. I can’t risk Larry running over and telling Dad that he hopes Uncle Arnie likes his monkey. That would take a long time to explain.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asks.

“Oh, nothing, just ready to go home!” Luckily, Dad doesn’t ask me anything else; he just shakes his head, mumbling something about kids, and turns up a podcast.

When we’re safely out of the parking lot, I sit up straighter. That’s when I see something on the dashboard of the car.

A postcard!

I reach out and grab it. “Is this from Uncle Arnie?” I ask. But before Dad can even open his mouth, I have my answer.

SOMEONE IN ALAMOGORDO, NEW MEXICO, LOVES YOU! is what it says on the front. HOME OF THE WORLD’S LARGEST PISTACHIO!

There’s also a picture of a person looking very small while standing next to…well, I guess it’s the world’s largest pistachio. Not a real one, though; it’s a huge statue, probably thirty feet tall.

“Yeah, I’m not sure what your uncle’s up to, but it sure looks like he’s having an adventure,” Dad says as I turn over the postcard and read.

Cool quote for Cleo: a drop of love, no matter how small, can be detected in river, lake, or endless sea! Live for friendship, love & magic!!!!! From ewe-no-hoooooo!

I figure out Uncle Arnie’s code quickly this time. You Know Who.

“Do you have any idea what these postcards are about?” Dad asks.

“No, not really.” That’s the quickest and easiest answer I have. But inside, I know there’s a meaning to each one. Uncle Arnie is trying to tell me something; I just don’t know what!

One thing I do know is that I am not going to call him again. I learned my lesson. What happened last time, with the Southern lady calling me a ghost child, was just too strange. I can’t imagine what’s going on in Uncle Arnie’s household, and I don’t even want to try!

Instead I look at one side of the postcard and then the other, again and again before bedtime. I don’t come to any great conclusions while I’m awake, but after I go to sleep and wake up in the morning, there’s an idea in my head. I think it came to me in a dream. Like most dreams I have, it didn’t make much sense, but I definitely remember a giant pistachio. That’s how I know it had something to do with Uncle Arnie’s postcard. I’ve never dreamed of a giant pistachio before…and I doubt I ever will again!

In the part I remember, I’m standing by the pistachio in Alamogordo, New Mexico, and though there’s not a drop of water in any direction, a red-haired tour guide, maybe Terri, asks if I’ve been to the lake. Then we’re magically transported to a lake surrounded by thick evergreen trees. The guide says it’s a shame the lake is so low. “All it needs is rain. Just a few more drops of water and it’ll be all right.”

Then the really weird part—a lame spaceship, looking like two dinner plates facing each other, lands on the shore of the lake. Its roof opens, and guess whose head pops out? Pandaroo’s! The Terri look-alike says goodbye, climbs into the spaceship on a rope ladder, and flies off.

When I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing I do is turn my head and see the love potion bottle across the room from me. It looks more magical than ever as the Saturday sun streams through the window and shines on it.

Drops! Drops of water in a lake. Drops of love potion. Somehow, all the wackiness in my dream has led me to a perfectly sensible idea.

I reread the postcard. A drop of love, no matter how small, can be detected in river, lake, or endless sea! A drop of love equals a drop of love potion. That’s got to be what Uncle Arnie means. What else could he mean? I know I promised not to use the potion until I had the instructions, but here they are—finally! They’re not exactly clear or understandable, but neither is Uncle Arnie.

I don’t need to call him or the strange ladies at his house. I know what to do.

It’s time to use the potion.

I unzip my backpack and pull out my offerings for the universe—Larry’s monkey; Dad’s glasses; and finally, a page from the Healthyland play, which I’ve decided to use as the extension of me and Madison. It was during the play that we became friends; it was the place where we realized that no matter how different we seemed, we had things in common.

I lay these three important items on my dresser—in front of the red bottle. I take a breath and pull off the top. I begin to tip it over and…

DING DONG!

Someone’s here for the Siren Call.