CHAPTER FIVE

Standing on the tarmac by a chain-link fence, at the very far end of the Miami airport runway, was a tall young man with thick black hair. He was surrounded by more than a dozen suitcases. He waved at the professor.

“Yoenis!” Professor Fauna cried. He looked back at Elliot and Uchenna. “This is our friend!”

“Uh . . . ,” said Uchenna, staring out the window, “does he think those bags will all fit in the Phoenix?”

Elliot had returned to cleaning Jersey Devil vomit from his shoes. He looked up and out the window to see a man standing amidst an island of bags.

Professor Fauna stopped the plane, threw his door open, and hopped out. The warm, humid Florida air hit Uchenna. She clambered down and followed Professor Fauna over to the man with the suitcases.

“¡Yoenis! ¿Qué tal estás?”

Yoenis smiled and embraced the professor, and they kissed each other on one cheek. Then he turned to Uchenna and Elliot. “These must be Elliot and Uchenna,” he said, and shook both their hands very seriously. “I’m Yoenis.”

Uchenna tried to smile at him, but she was distracted by all the bags. There were so many suitcases and bags around Yoenis’s feet that she thought he must have disobeyed every public announcement ever made and agreed to watch the suitcases of every other passenger at the Miami airport. They couldn’t all belong to him.

“I see you’re looking at my luggage,” Yoenis said. “I’ll have to rearrange some things, but don’t worry. It’ll all fit.”

“Um . . . I hope this isn’t rude,” said Uchenna, “but there is no chance that will all fit in the Phoenix.”

“Even if it did, I’m pretty sure planes have weight limits,” Elliot added. “For safety.” He glanced back at the Phoenix, where Jersey was peeking through a small round window. He seemed to be staring at Yoenis’s baggage, too.

“Don’t worry about my stuff. Any Cuban who goes home knows how to pack a lot in a little space. I wish we didn’t have to. But we do.”

“Why?” Uchenna asked.

Yoenis bent over and started to open some of the bags. “Hold this open for me,” Yoenis said, handing Elliot a large Ziploc and pouring a bottle of vitamins into it. “It’s a long story. Basically, it’s hard for Cubans to get all the things they need. The Cuban government makes it tough. And then, the US government goes and makes it even harder by imposing an embargo.” While he was talking, Yoenis pulled out more vitamins, several bags of powdered milk, nuts, dried fruit, and a big box of dried soup.

“Between the Cuban and US governments, my mother can’t get the basic things she needs to live. Milk, meat, medicine, machinery.” Yoenis explained. “Ya tú sabes. Those in power are always making the lives of regular people miserable. Anyway, whenever a Cuban American goes back to Cuba to see his family, he pretty much always brings a few things.”

Elliot gestured at the bags. “A few things?”

“My man,” Yoenis chuckled darkly, “this is nada. You should see what I bring when I fly commercial.”

Yoenis turned his focus to packing, and Uchenna started gazing around the Miami airport. Suddenly, she muttered, “Unbelievable!” She pointed to a large airplane hangar at the end of the runway. A large cargo plane was being loaded. The plane was silver, but the wings and tail were painted black, and on the tail was a snakelike S. Uchenna groaned. “They are everywhere.”

Elliot came next to her and shaded his eyes from the Miami sun. “Seriously. They take multinational corporation to a ridiculous extreme.”

“Who’s that?” Yoenis asked, shoving a pair of sneakers into a crevice about the size of a single sock.

Professor Fauna passed him another pair of sneakers, which Yoenis somehow shoved into the same space, and said, “The Schmoke Brothers. Billionaire industrialists. Collectors of mythical creatures. Villains of the lowest order.”

“More powerful rich guys,” Yoenis replied, “exploiting the world, its people, its animals, its resources. No surprise.” Then he straightened up. “But someone was talking about these Schmokes recently . . . ,” Yoenis said. He tapped his chin, trying to remember what he’d heard.

Elliot squinted. “Can you see what they’re loading?”

“Looks like black barrels?” Uchenna said. “What do you think is in them?”

Elliot shrugged. “Pure evil, probably.”

Yoenis laughed out loud at that. “Elliot, I like you.” Elliot grinned. Then Yoenis stood up and dusted off his hands. Elliot and Uchenna looked around. Their mouths fell open. There was a single suitcase sitting at his feet.

“Are you kidding me?” Elliot exclaimed.

“What?” said Yoenis. “I told you that Cubans know how to pack.”

“That thing must be dense as a black hole,” Elliot said.

Yoenis shrugged and picked it up and hefted it toward the Phoenix. Professor Fauna held a door open for him, and he threw the bag in the back. “Next stop,” announced the professor, “¡Cubita la bella!”