“I just don’t want a geeky animal,” I said.
My father sighed and stirred the scrambled eggs. “There are no geeky animals, Julia. Each of the animal spirits is—”
“—equally powerful in its own way,” I finished.
“I know. I memorized it for finals last year.”
“Then why are you so worried?” He scooped scrambled eggs onto my plate. “There’s no use losing sleep over it. The animal that is right for you will choose you.”
“Easy for you to say. You have a cool animal.”
My father’s animal spirit is a hawk. Undeniably sweet. Not only that, he received his spirit in the Classical way. That means he got his powers from an actual animal, not just an image of one.
My magic theory teacher Mrs. Panteski even used my dad as an example when she taught us about Classical reception, and she made a big, embarrassing deal about him, because
Classicals are pretty rare these days. Most people—or, at least city folks like us—get their powers in the Secondary way, from an image of the animal.
For example, you might get dog magic by looking at a Greyhound bus, or lizard magic off a Geico commercial. My other dad, Papa Dan, received his lion spirit when he walked past one of the stone lions outside the library. The spirit pounced on him so hard it nearly knocked him down.
“You both have cool animals,” I said, glaring at Papa now, too. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a geeky one. There’s a kid at school with goldfish magic—”
“And he can breathe under water!” put in Papa.
“And he gets his head pushed into the toilet!” I said, “Because it’s geeky! The animal you get—it doesn’t just give you powers or show you what kind of magic you should study. It decides your social life. Forever.” I pushed away my eggs. “I’m not hungry.”
Dad sat down beside me and brushed a lock of hair out of my face. “We understand, sweetie. Turning fourteen is a big deal. Your papa and I just want to make sure you don’t spend your whole birthday worrying.” He smiled. “ Now, what do you want to do today? We could go shopping, go out to lunch—”
“I’m going to the zoo with Dana and Kelly.”
My dad looked disappointed. “Are you sure? Because you don’t have to go looking for your animal, you know. It will find you.”
What’s going to find me here, I thought, squirrel magic? Everyone knows squirrel people are neurotic. “I’m sure,” I said. “Kelly went to the zoo on her fourteenth birthday and she had a Classical. Zebra. Now her illusion work is really flashy.”
“Yes, you told us.” My dad sighed. “Well, maybe we could go out to dinner tonight. Invite Kelly and Dana along.”
“Sure thing, Dad.”
Papa smiled. “Maybe you’ll have received a lion spirit by then, like your old man.” He cuffed me on the shoulder. “We’ll go out for steak.” He grinned at me and I managed a smile back. All the big cat kids hang out together at the high school. It would be nice to be part of a pride.
Outside, a car horn honked. “That’s Kelly,” I said. “I gotta go.”
I picked up my backpack. Dad was still looking a little abandoned. “Dinner,” I said, “I promise."
The Melbournes’ car was waiting outside. Kelly was in the front seat, Dana in the back. They had both worn their new Lawrence High t-shirts. I wished someone had clued me in.
My pink t-shirt and jean shorts seemed suddenly very junior high, and my hair felt extra brown because Dana and Kelly had both illusioned their hair the same platinum blond. It looked better on Kelly, of course—everything always did.
Dana had so much baby fat, she could be mistaken for twelve, but, dressed in her Lawrence High t-shirt, Kelly could pass for a sophomore, at least.
“Happy Birthday!” Mrs. Melbourne called as I hopped in the back beside Dana.
“The happiest,” said Kelly confidently. “Here, open it.” She pressed a lumpy present into my hands.
I tore off the purple paper. “A stuffed animal.” No one had given me one of those in years.
“A stuffed zebra,” Kelly corrected. “Do you feel anything? Anything at all?”
I shook my head. I only felt the same nerves I had been feeling all morning. “Nope. Nothing.”
Kelly pouted her lips. “Bummer! I hoped we could have the same animal, like we always said we would when we were little kids. Oh, well.” She brightened a little. “There’s still a chance. Maybe when you see a real zebra—”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Melbourne chimed in,
“Julia’s going to have a Classical like her dad. You know, I was there when your dad received. Most dramatic thing you ever saw. That hawk flew overhead and your dad got his flying ability right on the spot. Levitated about two feet. He moved so fast his glasses fell off and—”
“He never needed them again,” I finished,
“Because his eyesight got so good. I know.” I had heard the story a million times, but this time it made my stomach flip. “But I’m going to get a chipmunk, or a toad, or—”
“Stop it!” Dana smacked me on the arm. “Now you’re making me nervous. My birthday’s only a month away, you know.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” said Kelly helpfully.
So we tried to talk about school for a while. Dana and Kelly and I went through junior high together at Purchek, and we’ll all be at Lawrence for high school, since it’s the only magic-studies program in Minneapolis.
“Everyone says the work’s more fun in high school,” said Dana. “Once eveyone’s got their animals, it’s a lot less theory and a lot more practice.”
“Good,” said Kelly, “I hate theory.”
Dana giggled. “Yup, Kelly, you’re a doer.”
Kelly glared at her and gave a meaningful glance at her mom, but her mom wasn’t listening.
“I just mean that we’re all tired of theory,” Dana amended. “We had way too much of it in junior high.”
“Yeah,” Kelly agreed, “Time for the real deal.”
“We’re here!” Mrs. Melbourne announced.
The gates of the zoo loomed in front of us. Mrs. Melbourne pulled into the parking lot and waited as we piled out.
“Don’t sweat it!” she called to me as I shut the door. “Whatever you get, you’ll still be the same sweet Julia.”
“Ignore her,” said Kelly as her mom pulled away, “It really changes everything.”
“Yeah,” said Dana, “Look at Erik Vance.”
Kelly and I nodded knowingly. Everyone knew about Erik Vance. He had been the ultimate geek all through junior high. Everyone expected he would receive some sort of worm magic, or worse.
But when his fourteenth birthday came, he didn’t even get that. Three days passed and no animal. On the fourth day, Erik decided he wasn’t going to get any magic at all. He decided to kill himself by walking out in front of a car.
Luckily, the car was going slow. The accident just gave him a broken foot, a cracked rib—and an intensely cool animal. The car was a Jaguar.
“Now everybody likes Erik,” said Kelly authoritatively. “And I would absolutely date him.”
I had to agree. Technically, receiving an animal gives you “the ability to excel at a particular type of magic.” That’s what we learned for our exam. But in a case like Erik’s, it could give you a lot more. He had dropped twenty pounds since the jaguar came. Now he pounced on the ball with the football team and prowled the halls with the cool kids.
“Or what about Devon Cole?” Dana asked. “He used to be fairly normal. Then he got bat magic, and now he’s gone all Goth, dressing in black and stuff—”
“Ugh, Dana,” Kelly made a face. “What made you think of that loser?”
“The fact that he’s right over there.” Dana pointed to the ticket line. Devon was there, all right, wearing a long black trench coat over his jeans, his hair illusioned blue-black to match his clothes. He was holding a big pad of paper.
Kelly made the “L for loser” sign on her forehead and Dana laughed.
“Come on, you guys,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood to give people crap. After all, I might be about to get warthog magic myself. “Devon’s kind of okay.”
I instantly regretted it. Kelly pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Okay, huh? Well, go talk with him, then.” She pushed me in Devon’s direction. “Just be careful his magic doesn’t wear off on you, or you’ll be hanging out doing that vampire look with the bat-magic kids next year.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” I said lamely. “Come on, let’s go.” I tried to herd my friends towards the bird exhibit.
But Devon had caught sight of us. He walked over, brushing the curtain of dark hair away from his eyes. He was wearing some kind of dark eye makeup and black lipstick, too. His nails were painted black. “Julia,” he said.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I looked away but Kelly smiled a big fake smile at him.
“Devon! What are you doing here?”
“Just paying a visit to my animal.” He tapped the sketchpad under his arm. “I like to draw them.”
I saw Dana smother a laugh.
“What animal is that again?” Kelly asked innocently,“A skunk?”
Her voice sounded perfectly pleasant, but I knew she was trying to give Devon shit. I felt my face get hot. I hate it when Kelly’s like this.
But Devon didn’t give her even the satisfaction of a blush. “Skunk magic. Great for defensive combat stuff, right? But, no, I’m a bat man myself.”
How could he sound so unapologetic about it? Bat was definitely not cool.
“Well,” said Kelly, “We’re about to find out what Julia’s magic is. It’s her birthday today, you know.”
“Really.” Devon looked at me. The makeup made his dark eyes extra intense. “Well, have a happy birthday, Julia.”
“Thanks,” I said, staring at my feet. “You too.”
Dana laughed. “You too? Julia, it’s not his birthday.”
My face felt hotter still. What a lame thing to say.
But Devon smiled. “Thanks. I will have a happy Julia’s birthday, too.” And he turned and walked off towards the small animal buildings. I took a step in that direction, too, but Kelly grabbed me by the shoulders and steered me towards the African Savanna. “Have fun drawing your bats,” she called sweetly after Devon, and then added quietly, “You freak.”
It was early in the day, but the African Savanna exhibit was already crowded with families.
“Even the Norms know that zebras are cool,” Kelly said proudly.
“We aren’t supposed to say Norms,” I told her. I was still feeling a little hostile about the way she had teased me about Devon.
“Non-Magical Americans, or whatever’s P.C. Your birthday’s made you uptight about everything.” Kelly leaned against the fence that surrounded the lion enclosure. “There’s one in there sleeping. Take a good look.”
I could just make out the tawny form of the lion sprawled on the grass. Its tail twitched lazily. It was hard to imagine that that was the animal that gave my papa the power to cast fireball spells. I stared at the tan lump in the cage and willed myself to have a magical experience, but nothing happened.
“Do you want to go get a snow cone?” Dana asked.
“Shut it,” said Kelly. “We’re trying to be supportive. Julia, do you feel anything?”
“Well…maybe.” I sighed. “No, not really.” I tried not to think about how happy my papa would be if I received Lion, or how happy my dad would be if I had a Classical. “Maybe we should try another cage.”
We went on to the giraffes, then the antelope and finally Kelly’s beloved zebras, all with the same results. The day was hot and sticky. The animals were sleepy and boring. By noon we had retreated to the air-conditioned gift shop.
“Take a look at this book on horses,” Dana suggested. “They’re really gorgeous.” She sighed. “I hope I get a pretty animal.”
“There’s calendars over here,” Kelly called, “And stuffed animals. Images galore.”
“Coming.” I wound my way through the crowded shop, past the racks of stuffed animals. I lingered a minute in front of a plush peacock and a soft bunny, but turned away fast when I spotted a duck-billed platypus. That’s the last thing I needed.
“No luck yet, huh?”
It was Devon, standing behind me, smiling. He had a book on bats and his sketchpad in his hands. How could he stand that dark trench coat on such a sweltering day?
“Nope,” I said. “Nada.”
“You know, you don’t have to ignore Mr. Platypus there. It doesn’t matter if you look at him or not. The spirit can come from the image, even if you don’t look at it. I should know,” he added. “I got Bat off my little brother’s Batman pj’s, and God knows I never look at my little brother.” He grinned.
“You’re lying,” I said. “Those were probably your Batman pajamas.”
His smile widened. “I’m a Superman fan myself. I mean, if you’re trying to picture me in my jammies.”
"I wasn’t.” I blushed. “So—did you get any drawing done?”
"Nice subject change. And, yes." He held up his sketchbook. It was covered with sketches of bats and owls and raccoons. The drawings were done in charcoal, each one in realistic detail. "I worked through the whole nocturnal animals exhibit. Have you been there yet?"
I shook my head. “Kelly and Dana are kind of planning my itinerary. Speaking of which,” I nodded towards Kelly who was standing in front of a coffee mug display a few aisles down. She was watching us, arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproval on her face. “I better go,” I said.
Devon picked up the stuffed platypus. “Can I get you a birthday present?”
“No thanks,” I said. “I’ll pass.”
We hit the trail again. I willed myself to connect with every wolf and swan and gazelle I could find. Heck, I even tried to have a spiritual experience with a lemur. I was starting to feel desperate. My birthday was wearing on. Dana was on her third snow-cone and Kelly was getting crabby. Finally, when it was almost five, we retreated to the coffee shop to think.
The coffee shop was across the walkway from the gift shop. We chose a table by the window, so that I could see the gift shop’s window display, “just in case.” Over the rim of her lemonade, Kelly glared at the cute plush animals. “What was Devon trying to do, showing you one of those duckie things like that?”
“It’s a platypus,” I said, “And who knows. It didn’t work anyway. Nothing’s working.”
“Well, I know why he showed you that platypus.” Kelly stirred her lemonade, hard.
“Misery loves company, that’s why. He wants you to join his band of freaks. But you are not a freak, Julia. You’re our friend.”
“That’s right,” added Dana. “And we’re going to find you the coolest animal there is.”
“Great,” I said, “But only if you can do it in the next ten minutes. The zoo’s about to close.”
Kelly looked at her watch. “Damn it!”
I felt the same. If I couldn’t find an animal spirit at the zoo, I would be stuck looking for one at home. I pictured myself walking around my neighborhood, being pounced on by a pigeon spirit, or worse. What if I got a mouse spirit while watching the Disney channel tonight? Or had a Classical reception with the cat next door?
“I might still get a cool animal,” I said uncertainly. “I mean my dad has old National Geographics. Or we could go back to Dana’s house. She has Animal Planet—”
“No.” Kelly’s face was set with determination. Color was rising in her cheeks. “We are going to get you the coolest animal, and we’re going to do it now.”
I was tired. My feet ached. I suddenly wished I had gone out to dinner with my dad. “Kelly, we’ve been all over the whole place. We’ve seen all the animals—”
“Sure,” said Kelly, “From a distance. But maybe that’s not going to do it for you. Maybe you need to see one up close.”
I wasn’t sure where this was going. “Listen, I don’t even think it will matter. Devon said I don’t even need to see them at all. He said—”
“Screw Devon!” Kelly banged her lemonade down so hard it sloshed. For a second she didn’t look pretty at all. Her expression was downright ugly. “Are you going to listen to Devon, or are you going to listen to us?”
“Yeah,” said Dana, “We’re your friends. You should do what Kelly says.”
I glared at Dana. “You don’t even know what Kelly’s talking about.”
“She doesn’t need to know,” said Kelly, “Dana trusts me.”
The way she said Dana cut me—like Dana was the only one who listened to her, like Dana was her best friend. Dana heard it too. She sat up a little straighter. Now she and Kelly were both giving me the same steely look, and I realized that it wasn’t just my social life on the line. If I got a cool animal, that would look good for them. If I was a gecko or a wombat or something equally sucky, they would be branded as hanging out with a loser. If they hung out with me at all.
“Where do you want to go?” I kept my voice quiet.
Kelly smiled. She was back to her pretty self.
“Follow me.”
She got up and marched out of the coffee shop with Dana and I trailing behind her like obedient dogs. The clerk hung the closed sign in the window as we passed, and a loud speaker above us crackled. “Attention visitors: our exhibits will be closing in five minutes. Thank you for visiting the Minnesota Zoo.” The tide of camp kids and moms with strollers was flowing toward the gates. But we were walking in the opposite direction, further into the zoo.
“They’re not going to let us in anywhere,” I warned, trying to sound disappointed. “If security sees us—”
“They won’t see us,” said Kelly. She ducked behind the primate enclosure and tugged Dana and me with her. Then she raised both her hands and started reciting a spell. I felt something cool settle on my skin, like walking in to the mist from a sprinkler. I held my hand in front of my face and watched as it became slowly transparent. Beside me, Kelly and Dana were fading, too. I heard Dana draw in her breath. “Wow, Kel, invisibility! I didn’t know you could do that.”
‘I have my animal now, remember?” Kelly’s smile lingered for a second, like the Cheshire cat’s, before that vanished completely, too.
“There’s a lot I can do.”
I felt her grab my hand and draw me along past the African Savanna, into the Central and South American jungle. The signs had pictures of parrots and three toed sloths, but the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that wasn’t what we were going to see.
“We’re going to the jaguar,” I said, “Aren’t we?”
Kelly smiled. “Where else? Listen, Julia, Erik is the most popular boy in school. Period. Do you know what it would be like if you had the same animal he has?”
Dana gasped “You’d be like an instant couple!”
“Exactly,” said Kelly, “And we would be the most popular clique at Lawrence.”
Soon—too soon—we arrived at the jaguar enclosure. It was just like the other outdoor pens: a big sunken pit surrounded by a brick ledge and a high chain-link fence. At the back of the enclosure, the jaguar was asleep on a rock. Even from this distance, I could tell it wasn’t small. Its sleek spotted body shimmered in the sun.
“I’m not feeling anything,” I said quickly, “Let’s go.”
“Not so fast.” I couldn’t see Kelly, but I could tell by her tone of voice that she was blocking my way. “We’re going to get you up close and personal. Get up on the ledge.”
“No way!” I took a step back. “What if I fall?”
“You won’t.” I felt Kelly’s hand grasp my arm.
“I’m going to levitate you.”
I heard Dana draw in her breath. “Sweet! Levitation!”
“You can’t,” I said.
Kelly’s grip tightened. “I made us invisible, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” I said doubtfully, “Because Zebra’s good for camouflage illusion—but not for levitation.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t trust me?”
Kelly’s voice was full of challenge. “You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“I trust you, Kelly,” Dana put in eagerly.
“Good,” said Kelly. “See, Dana will get up there, won’t you, Dana?”
“I will?” Dana didn’t sound convinced. “Uh, sure I will, Kel. I’m getting up there right now.” But I could tell she wasn’t. Her voice still came from beside me. If I was going up on the ledge, I was going alone.
Down in the enclosure, the jaguar stirred. It stretched, muscles rippling, and yawned. Even from where we stood, I could see its sharp white teeth. Then, in one flowing motion, it leapt down off its rock.
“Here, kitty kitty kitty,” Kelly sang.
“Shut up,” I said.
“God! I’m kidding, Julia. Take a joke. It’s not like it can see you.”
But it can smell me, I thought. The jaguar was used to people staring at it, sure, but most of the visitors didn’t smell like fear. I was sweating like mad now, and not just from the heat. As if on cue, the big cat raised its head and sniffed the air. Behind me I could hear Kelly intoning the levitation spell.
I tried to turn away from the cage. Maybe I could run away quietly. They’d give me crap forever—call me “chicken magic” and the whole works—but at least I wouldn’t be eaten by a jaguar. I willed my feet to go—but they just wouldn’t obey. It was as if my sneakers and the ground were the opposite ends of a magnet, pushing away from each other, and instead of going forward, I was going up—rising up over the railing, over the chain link fence and floating out over the jaguar enclosure.
“Is it working?” I heard Dana ask, and I wanted to shout, Yes, yes it’s working! For a split second, I forgot about my fear. I was flying! I was almost directly above the jaguar now, and, from this close, it looked even more beautiful and powerful than it had before. My heart was racing. What if Kelly was right? What if I was about to have a Classical with the very coolest animal of all? Maybe, I thought, if I was just a little closer—I reached a hand out towards the jaguar—
—and realized that I could see my fingers. Kelly’s invisibility spell was failing! My hand—my arm—all of me was slowly coming back into view. And if that spell was failing—Panicked, I looked back and saw Kelly, slowly reappearing on the edge of the enclosure. Her arms were stretched wide, her lips moving franticly. But the look in her eyes said only one thing: Oh, crap.
The levitation spell failed. The bottom dropped out of my stomach like an elevator falling fast. The ground seemed to rise up to meet me. In a split second, I hit the floor of the enclosure, hard. All the breath was knocked out of my body in a grunt. Behind me I heard Dana yell “Run!” and the clatter of footsteps as she and Kelly took off fast.
In front of me, I could hear a very different sort of footstep: the swift, padded step of the jaguar, closing the space between us in three smooth pounces. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but I had time to see the jaguar in detail. Its eyes were yellow. Its teeth were shining white against its tawny, spotted coat. It opened its mouth in a giant roar and I tried to think of any spell I could, but it was too late. I braced myself for the impact.
And felt something else instead—a strange tingling sensation, a sudden rush, and then numbness. My limbs were full of sand. My brain was playing the static between stations. A minute ago, my heart had been pounding. Now it sounded sluggish. My whole body felt cold. My God, I thought, I’m dying.
Then everything went black.
I was being cradled in someone’s arms. It was like when I was a kid and I would fall asleep watching TV and my papa would carry me to bed. Except there was a jaguar growling in the distance and a noise like softly flapping wings and I was being carried up into a golden light. I’m dead, I thought, I’m being carried by an angel.
The angel came to rest. He set me down gently on the ground. I wanted to ask what had happened, but I couldn’t even open my eyes.
“Heaven?” I murmured, “Is this Heaven?”
“Close,” said a voice. “It’s actually pronounced ‘Devon.’”
“Devon?” My eyes flew open. There was my “angel,” all right, but he was dressed all in black. Devon knelt beside me, black lips smiling through his Gothy hair.
“What—” I stammered, “What happened?” I tried to sit up, but my head still felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. I slumped back again.
Devon caught me. “Whoa, easy there. Take it slow. You got your animal, that’s what happened.”
“My animal!” It was all rushing back to me now “Did I get jaguar?”
Devon laughed. “Not exactly. Ever hear of playing possum?”
“Possum?” This time I did manage to sit up.
“Are you telling me I got possum? But I haven’t even seen a possum today!”
“No,” he said. “But I have.” He tapped the sketchpad on the ground beside him. My vision focused enough to take in the drawing of the possum there beside the bats and weasels. “I saw the little guy’s spirit jump right off the page and grab you.” Devon shook his head admiringly. “It was ten kinds of cool.”
“Cool, huh?” I looked at the sketches. Ordinarily, “cool” was the last word that would come to my mind. The possum looked kind of like a big rat, with beady eyes and a long, hairless tail. Geeky to say the least. But in Devon’s drawing, the possum didn’t look so bad. “It’s kinda cute.”
“And damn smart,” Devon agreed. “When the little guys feel threatened, they just play dead.”
“And that throws off the predator?” I asked.
“Confused the heck out of that jaguar!” Devon laughed again. “You fell out cold before he even touched you. It was hysterical.”
“Hysterical,” I agreed. “Ha ha. Me looking dead.”
“Well, I knew what was going on. I mean, we bats have a similar thing. Torpor. It’s like a hibernation trance. Besides,” he added, “it’s the jaguar I was laughing at. He just stood there looking dumb. And you should have seen the look on his face when I flew in and scooped you up.”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” I mumbled.
“No sweat.” But he looked pretty proud.
“Consider it a birthday gift.”
“But wait—” My head was slowly starting to clear. “How did you even know that I was in the jaguar pit?”
“Simple,” said Devon. “I followed you.”
“How? We were invisible!”
“Oh, come on,” Devon waved his hand dismissively. “Like I can’t echolocate! Please, give me a little credit.”
“Right,” I said, “Sure.”
There was an uncomfortable pause. “Well…” I said.
“Well…” said Devon, helping me to my feet,
“If you’re sure you can wiggle everything, then I guess my work here is done. Happy birthday, Julia.” He gave a hokey little bow. The guy really was a dork. He turned and started walking away.
“Wait!” I said suddenly. “Would you, um, like to hang around sometime?”
Devon turned back to me. “I’m a bat. Hanging around is what we do best.”
I groaned at his awful joke. “Well, from what I hear, possums are pretty good at hanging around, too.”
He nodded approvingly. “Your first prehensile tail joke. I give it an eight-point-five.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Generous.” I brushed some of the dirt from the jaguar cage off my shorts.
“Listen, my dads are taking me out to dinner, and I was going to invite Kelly and Dana”
“Before they amscrayed.”
“Yeah,” I said, “So I was wondering--But you wouldn’t want to come.”
“Ha!” said Devon. “Shows what you know. Actually, I would love to.”
