A Field Guide to Getting Lost Read online

  She was out of bed now, but sort of wished she could crawl back in and stay there for the rest of the day. The thing was, that would make her dad want to do more talking, and she was all talked out. She had finished with the succulents and started watering the Epipremnum aureum when her dad emerged from his bedroom in jogging clothes.

  “I’m going around the lake,” he said. “I texted Mrs. Banerjee. She’s home if you need anything. And I’ve got my phone.”

  Sutton scowled in his general direction. It was too early for human interaction, much less for exercise. But if he went for his run, there would be one less human to interact with. “Okay,” she said.

  He kissed the top of her head and peered at her face for a second. “You okay today, pumpkin? We’re okay, right?”

  “Dad. Not fully prepared to engage,” she sighed. “But yeah. We’re okay.”

  He grinned. “Gotcha. We’ll talk when I’m back, then. Unless you want to join me on my run? Let the fresh morning air invigorate your senses? Appreciate the beauty of plants that grow in the actual earth?” He danced out of the way as Sutton threatened him with the watering can, and his laughter still echoed even after he’d shut the door behind him.

  By the time Sutton was done watering the apartment plants and eating her breakfast, her brain felt less fuzzy. She didn’t like to admit it, but all the pretend robots in the MoPOP had inspired her, in their way. Sure, they weren’t real. They couldn’t actually be programmed to do the things people saw them do in movies.

  But they had all been created by people who dreamed up what was possible.

  She pulled out a notebook and jotted down a brainstorming list of all the possible things she could try to get her bot through the maze. No idea was too ridiculous! (Even though some definitely were. Singing soothing songs to the bot was not going to work. That had been her dad’s idea.)

  Her robotics adviser, Ms. Nguyen, always encouraged them to keep an open mind. She also said two minds were better than one. Sutton struggled with this one—she usually preferred to work alone. But Ms. Nguyen had coached three previous teams to the Robotics World Championships, so she had to know what she was talking about.

  If Sutton’s team wasn’t on summer break, it would be a lot easier. She would just bring her bot to a meeting and ask her teammates for ideas. But they were scattered around town, and Ms. Nguyen had left for a summer trip through Europe.

  There was one teammate who’d stayed in town. And lived nearby. Sometimes uncomfortably nearby.

  Riley Dairman-Bedichek lived on the seventh floor, in fact. She and Sutton had clashed badly when Sutton first joined the robotics team. They’d learned to work together as teammates, mostly, but the truth was they were in constant competition. Even if they wouldn’t let the adults see that.

  Riley was the best coder Sutton knew, aside from Ms. Nguyen. If Sutton really wanted to make progress with her bot before her mom got home, she’d have to swallow her pride and ask for help.

  Sutton texted her dad so he’d know where she went if he returned early. Then she grabbed the maze, popped the bot into its carrying case, and headed up to the Dairman-Bedicheks’ seventh-floor apartment.

  Riley’s curly-haired mom opened the door before Sutton even had a chance to knock. “Oh, Sutton honey!” she cried. “We were just heading out.”

  Sutton stepped out of the way and the willowy woman bustled out, followed by her three-year-old, Riley’s short-haired mom, and finally, Riley. Her eyebrows shot up. “Hey, Sutton.”

  “Hey, um.” They all kept moving, so Sutton trailed after them to the elevator. “I’m having some trouble with my bot. I thought maybe we could brainstorm?”

  Short-Haired Mom held the elevator door, so Sutton got on.

  “Oh.” Riley looked far too pleased. “I’d be happy to help. But we’re going to my grandmother’s. I won’t be home until tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  Curly-Haired Mom squeezed Sutton’s shoulders. “I love that you girls are friends! Coding partners! Girl power! Who run the world?!”

  “Girls!” sang Short-Haired Mom and the three-year-old, who had obviously seen this routine before.

  Riley’s cheeks flamed, and she lost all trace of smugness. The elevator doors opened. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Maybe later.”

  Riley’s moms were totally embarrassing. But they were also both there, singing and dancing their way across the lobby. The three-year-old took Riley’s hand and dragged her after them. They looked like such a happy family.

  Then the elevator doors closed and Sutton was all alone again.

  * * *

  “Come in!” Mrs. Banerjee called over Moti’s barks when Sutton knocked a few minutes later. She hadn’t been able to bear going back to her empty apartment.

  “Mrs. B?” Sutton squeezed inside quickly so Moti couldn’t escape. “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

  “But what if my favorite neighbor drops by and I’m stuck on the couch?”

  Moti trailed Sutton as she hurried around the couch, jumping to get at the treats Sutton always carried. Mrs. Banerjee sat with her legs up, an ice pack on her knee.

  “What happened?” Sutton handed Moti a treat to hush her up.

  “Oh, well. It turns out if you use your joints for sixty-some years, they start to wear out!”

  “Do you need anything? Should I make golden milk? Does Moti need to go out?”

  “Mr. Wong just took Moti out, so maybe a little later? For now, I could use your company.”

  Sutton sank down onto the carpet. At least, she was expecting the carpet. Instead, something hard poked her in the behind. “Ouch!”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry. Why don’t you shove those over to the side?”

  That’s when Sutton noticed a variety of thick white tubes and hard plastic connector thingies scattered across the floor. In the corner, there was a stack of plywood and carpet squares, and a coil of rope.

  “What are you making?”

  Mrs. B shook her head. “I feel silly now,” she said. “The truth is, my knee’s acting up because I was kneeling on it, trying to build that thing!”

  Some scattered papers on the coffee table caught Sutton’s eye. They were plans of some sort. Like building plans. Mrs. B was busy adjusting her ice pack, so Sutton peered at the plans.

  “Looks like a jungle gym,” she said.

  “That’s what it is, essentially. A cat condo, I think it’s called.”

  “For Moti?”

  “No, for Freckles. Mr. Wong is always taking Moti out, or bringing me leftovers. Watering my plants. I wanted to do something nice for him. I used to be quite handy. But I didn’t consider the fact that I’d have to kneel on the floor to build the darn thing!”

  “I can help!” Out of all the subjects covered in STEM, engineering was Sutton’s greatest weakness. She could use the practice. And maybe if she was busy building something, it would be easier to forget about Riley with her whole, happy family, or Luis palling around with his mom.

  Mrs. B was sort of a mom-figure. That was enough. Wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Luis

  Luis’s mom might have stayed inside, but her eyes were lasered on his back from the window as he walked from their little house to the sidewalk. He was an astronaut leaving the space station for the first time, tethered to safety by her gaze.

  But the thing about a tether was that it would only let him go so far.

  It was silly. He and his mom had walked together to the Ave a million times. Their house was in the perfect location—one block to school, two blocks to the library, three blocks to Queen Anne Avenue. With everything so close, they didn’t even need a car, which was good because his mom’s ancient Honda was very close to death and only to be used when absolutely necessary.

  With his mom at his side, walking to the shops never felt like a space walk. Even as he turned at the corner to wave at her in the window, Luis expected her to burst out and insist she come along. But she didn’t.

  No sooner was Luis out of sight of his house than he stumbled upon his first obstacle: Mrs. Caliri’s garden. Mrs. Caliri was a high-powered executive at one of the tech companies in town. Whenever Luis saw her climbing out of her Prius, she was always wearing heels and a dark suit. But the rest of the time, she was in jeans and up to her elbows in the dirt of her garden. The garden was a thing to behold, all twisty vines and cheerful flowers mingled together with herbs and tomatoes—Luis imagined Mary Lennox’s secret garden must have looked exactly like this one, except there was no wall around this one.

  This was nice for the neighbors who walked by and appreciated its splendor without fear of death. But for Luis, it was difficult to see beyond all the pollinators bustling around, attracted by the explosion of fragrant herbs and flowers. Closest to the sidewalk, a row of lavender bushes was in full bloom, chock-full of buzzing bees.

  Luis knew this was a test. Heroes were always tested early in their journeys. When Penelope Bell first arrived at the Whitlow School for Extraordinary Children, she wasn’t even allowed to enter the school grounds until she’d gotten past a gryphon. Which had been tricky, because Penelope hadn’t yet realized the full extent of her powers.

  But then, Luis figured, neither had he.

  The easiest thing would be to cross the road and walk past on the other sidewalk. Luis didn’t think the bees would chase him. It wasn’t that kind of test. But he would have to backtrack to the corner so he wouldn’t be jaywalking, and if his mom was still watching from the window, she would see him. And worry. Maybe even rethink her decision to let him go alone.

  And she was almost definitely still watching.

  Luis took another step toward the lavender bushes. It might have been his imagination, but he was almo
st certain the buzzing got more frantic. He faltered. But he was determined to succeed on this first hurdle. There would be many more to come. It wouldn’t be a quest if it were simple!

  And something else: At the Whitlow School for Extraordinary Children, the motto inscribed on the school crest was, “Courage is being afraid and charging forth regardless!”

  Luis took a deep breath. People who say bees will only sting if they fear aggression have clearly never been rushed to the emergency room while losing feeling in their arms and legs. He took a step, and then two more, and then, in an unfortunate bit of neglect to street maintenance, an uneven part of the sidewalk where a giant root had broken through leaped up and made a sort of craggy hill out of the otherwise flat cement.

  Luis went sprawling and maybe yelped a little, and as he went down, he knocked into the lavender bushes. The bees went up in an agitated swarm, their morning meal of lavender pollen disturbed.

  Luis huddled on the sidewalk, terrified they would instead decide to make a meal of him (even though he knew bees didn’t use their stingers to eat, but now was not the time to worry about mixed metaphors). When he did not feel any sharp pains and still had sensation in his arms and legs, he peeked his head up.

  Some of the bees had resettled on the lavender. Some had moved over to the hydrangea bush. Luis grinned. Sure, his hands were a little skinned. But he had passed his first test.

  His next test was even easier. Though it was tricky—it was the kind of obstacle that seemed enticing, completely not dangerous. But it had the potential to completely do the hero in. Like the field of poppies in The Wizard of Oz. (They were beautiful flowers! How could they do harm? And then, next thing you know, Dorothy and her friends were headed for an eternal snooze.)

  Luis’s obstacle also involved flowers. He wasn’t allergic to flowers or grasses or anything that grew (except peanuts), but his allergies meant his immune system was a little too excitable. It would react to the slightest provocation, and the wrong kind of pollen up his nose could send him into a sneezing fit that would have his mother hovering until high school graduation.

  At this moment, the challenge to Luis’s excitable immune system was a dandelion. But not the yellow ones Luis had made into a flower chain bracelet when he was in kindergarten (which was how he learned what happened when he spent too much time with dandelions). This was a dandelion that had turned into the white, puffy cloud part. It looked so comforting and inviting.

  This particular dandelion was in the hand of a toddler out for a stroll with his dad. The toddler was puffing up his cheeks, preparing for that most terrifying of assaults. Luis watched it happen in slow motion—the toddler let out a gust of breath, and the tiny little seedpods of the dandelion poof exploded into the air, dancing on the wind and heading straight for Luis!

  The child’s father, completely oblivious to Luis’s predicament, crowed and cheered, praising the little boy for the extraordinary job he had done of breathing (though to be fair, in Luis’s experience, breathing was not always a simple matter).

  What would Penelope Bell do? When spies from the Alistair Academy for Superior Children infiltrated the Whitlow School and tried to dose the Whitlow flyster team with a sleeping potion on the morning of the championships, Penelope had tricked them into dosing their own pomegranate juice. (She wouldn’t have dosed the opposing team, as that would have been poor sportsmanship, but she had no qualms about dosing their spies and leaving them in a supply closet during the match.)

  But a sleeping potion wasn’t going to protect Luis from dandelion seeds. In the split second remaining before he would almost certainly inhale them, Luis pulled the neck of his shirt up over his face, to right beneath his eyes. Then he ran.

  He couldn’t swerve around the toddler and his father, because to one side was the Hoppers’ ferocious dog—behind a fence, but still—and to the other was the street. (A super narrow, extremely unbusy street, but it would be just Luis’s luck to run into the street at the exact moment a car finally came rolling by.)

  So he barreled through, right in between the man yelling, “Yes, Aidan, good job! Good blowing!” and the little boy gearing up to blow again. It was a risk, and there were consequences. Luis felt the boy reach out and brush his dandelion-covered hand against Luis’s pant leg as he passed by. But contamination or not, he got past.

  He ran all the way to the end of the block. And then he was at Queen Anne Avenue, and the corner store was to his left. A bounty of fresh markers awaited!

  He’d still have to brave the return trip, of course. But for now this hero would enjoy his well-deserved reward.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sutton

  Cat condos, as it turned out, were harder to build than Sutton had expected. She hoped Freckles and Mr. Wong would like it, if she ever managed to finish. It certainly gave her a new appreciation for the kids who did engineering projects at the All-State Science Fair. She’d always considered those projects little more than glorified LEGO creations, but she saw now how wrong she’d been.

  “I need two more of these connector thingies,” Sutton said from behind the couch, where she was scavenging for scattered pieces. She popped up a hand to show Mrs. B what she meant. “Do you see them?”

  “Oh! Over by the TV! I see one!”

  As Sutton crawled over to the TV, Moti scampered through the collection of tubes and connectors on the floor, scattering them yet again. Sutton took a deep breath. She loved Moti, but there was a reason great scientists didn’t keep dogs around their labs.

  “You okay, my dear? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind. And not only the cat condo. Is this about your mom?”

  Sutton shook her head vehemently and consulted the plans. She’d already put together several cubes with the tubes and connectors, and she’d hung little hammocks inside the cubes. Now she needed to make a sort of pyramid thing that went on top and required this one funny connector that was different from the others.

  “You know what?” Mrs. B went on while Sutton searched for the connector. “I think you and your dad have the most special relationship. I know how hard it is to be far away from your parents.”

  Sutton found the connector and focused on the task at hand. Everyone thought they knew how she felt, but no one really did. People thought she wanted her mom around for the big things, like birthdays and science fairs. And she did. But mostly she wanted her mom around for morning hot chocolate and walking Moti, and drifting off to sleep while listening to the sound of her mom’s typing.

  “Does she tell you much about her work? Are they making any new penguin discoveries?”

  Sutton sighed. “The migration patterns are changing. Because of melting ice. If there’s not enough ice, or if there’s too much, the conditions aren’t right to hatch their eggs. So they have to find new breeding grounds.”

  “You’re so smart. All I know about penguins is they mate for life!”

  Sutton didn’t bother telling Mrs. B this wasn’t actually true of emperor penguins. It was such a common misconception; it was like the number of people who thought being homeschooled meant she never interacted with any other children. One of the librarians at her local branch was always drinking out of a mug with two penguins gazing adoringly at each other inside a heart, and the words, YOU’RE MY PENGUIN.

  A lot of species of penguins choose partners and stick with them for the rest of their lives, like getting married and living happily ever after. But not all marriages last for happily ever after. And emperor penguins get new mates each breeding season.

  The one thing people usually got right about emperors was how the dads care for the chicks while the mom is away. The focus was usually on how cool that was, what great dads the penguins are. Which is true. But no one ever commented on how when the moms return, the dads leave. Emperor families are, by design, never together.

  “Did you ever live far away from your family?” Sutton asked.

  “I did. My baba left India first, to come to the United States and get settled—find a job, find a place for us to live. My brother followed a couple of years later, so I was separated from him, too. Then, when it was time for me to go to college, my mother and I traveled to the United States and we all lived together again. Of course, then we were far away from all the family we’d left behind in India.”