Fig didn’t wait for Rafi to answer. She pivoted their still sloshingly full canoe and paddled toward the shore. Milton’s insides were wriggling and jiggling centopus-style as he watched Rafi and Gabe paddling after them in their yellow equally sloshy canoe.
When they reached the riverbank, Fig hopped out and tugged the canoe from the water without even waiting for Milton to disembark. “All right,” she said, spinning around to face Rafi, who was attempting to help Gabe out. “How did you get here?”
“We were in the tree ship!” Gabe cried, ignoring his brother’s hand and leaping onto the shore. “We saw you go through those vines. Wowzers, this mud is soooo squishy!” He pulled his foot up with a squelch and then shoved it back down again.
“So you followed us,” Fig said.
“We didn’t follow you,” Rafi protested. “We went to the river, down where we saw you two the other day. The vines, uh, let us through there.”
“I told the vines that I’ve been keeping a snake in Rafi’s laundry hamper,” Gabe said cheerfully, smooshing his feet up and down. “Rafi said he misses our old house and his old friends.”
“The river must be like a—a back door,” Milton posited. Rafi, meanwhile, busied himself with the buckles of his life vest, not looking at anyone.
“Then they can turn around and go right back through,” Fig said, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed.
Rafi straightened up, a scowl now creeping across his face. “No way,” he said. “We’re not getting in that river again. You really hate me so much that you want me to be centopus food?”
Fig’s posture relaxed slightly. “No,” she said. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t want that. But ever since you got here, you’ve been saying you can’t wait to leave the island. Why would you even want to save it?”
Rafi unzipped his backpack and pulled out a dry bag. “Just because I don’t want to live on the island doesn’t mean I want it to be sold to someone who isn’t going to take care of it,” he said. He took his funny square camera out and started fiddling with its knobs. “Especially now that I’ve seen what’s behind the vines. Plus Gabe wanted to come—”
“I sure did!” cried Gabe, who was now mud-spattered from his toes to his stomach.
Rafi put his camera cord over his neck and faced Fig and Milton. “Gabe and I were going to save the island ourselves, but now we’re all here. So maybe we should do it together?”
Milton glanced over at Fig to find that her usually very readable face was a jumble of eyebrow ups and downs—which was exactly how Milton (and his stomach) felt.
When she finally spoke, Fig’s voice was stern. “Let’s get a few things straight,” she said. “Sea Hawk and I are the ones who found the field guide and solved the clues. We’re in charge. So if you’re coming with us, we need to have some ground rules.”
“I’m not following Dr. Bird Brain’s rules,” Rafi protested.
“The first rule,” Fig continued loudly, “is absolutely no name-calling. What else, Sea Hawk?”
Milton turned to Fig with what he hoped was a why-are-you-doing-this-to-me expression. Since Operation Rescue Gabe, he wasn’t exactly afraid of Rafi anymore, and if Fig was willing to let him join their adventure, then he could accept that. But he didn’t want to set ground rules! Rafi might listen to Fig, but he would never listen to Milton.
Fig either didn’t understand his super intense face (if only his eyebrows were as eloquent as hers!) or chose to ignore it. And as she gazed at him expectantly, Milton realized something.
This wasn’t going to be like the Bird Brain Incident.
Fig was the kind of friend who would stick with him. If he needed help, she wouldn’t watch from a distance. She would stand up for him. She would stand right next to him. He didn’t need to be afraid at all.
So he adjusted his glasses, smoothed his (soaked and bedraggled) peacock feather, and said, “I agree with the no-name-calling rule, and also Fig and I are in charge of the field guide.”
“Sea Hawk and I are in charge period,” Fig amended. “We decide where we go and when we go there. Do you agree to these terms?” She put her hands on her hips and waited. Milton put his hands on his hips and waited too.
“Aye, aye, captains, my captains!” Gabe sang out.
“You’re acting like I didn’t save your lives two minutes ago,” Rafi grumbled.
“We’re very grateful,” Fig said, “but the terms still stand.”
For a minute, Milton wondered if Rafi wouldn’t be able to handle those terms. Maybe he was going to storm back to his canoe in spite of the danger. But then he threw up his hands in the biggest shrug of all time and said, “Okay. Whatever. You two are in charge. Now can we get moving before something else in this jungle tries to kill us?”
It was Milton who replied. Hoisting his backpack, he took a deep breath and said, “Yes, I think we’re ready to continue now. Onward.”