SAVING FALCON

Chapter Six

  I was aroused at five AM the next morning.

I rubbed my eyes, squinting groggily in the darkness.

"What? Dad?" I murmured, feeling sleep deprived and....

My eyelids almost sank back over my eyes but two brawny hands juddered me awake.

"What?! What!" I shouted, discombobulated.

"It's me Lu, it's dad," my father tried to soothe me.

"Oh," I said, a little flustered. I heaved a sigh of relief.

"You know, if it wasn't me and that was your reaction you'd be in some deep-"

"Too tired to watch your mouth?" I teased him.

He apologized hastily and then handed me a sheet of paper. I could tell there was something scrawled on it, I could even recognize my dad's perfunctory handwriting. But no matter how close I brought the paper to my face, I couldn't see it in the twilight of the morning.

My dad messed with my nightstand lamp for a few seconds before it flickered on, sending me squeezing my eyes shut from the sudden exposure to light.

Once I had recovered, I read the list:

Set up stands

Call caterers

Find volunteers

Go to the store

Decorate

Clean

Laundry

Typically, when I woke up earlier than I had to, I just idled around the park, climbing random trees, writing random notes, but not today. Today I slaved away alongside my dad preparing for Wilderness Fest, which was just a day away.

I helped twine some firefly lights around the trees near the resort, I hauled the pieces for the stands with Peter and Trisha's aid, and I mopped the floors of the main lodge, and I helped my dad clean the pillars that stood grand and tall in front of the resort, cleaning off the patina that had gathered over the course of the year. We only did this sort of maintenance in preparation for Wildnerness Fest. By the time my father announced it was time for breakfast, perspiration rolled down the side of my face.

My father bestowed on me a pin that read "Wilderness Fest Staff," along with a neon orange T-Shirt with the same words copied onto it. I was filled with pride. I changed before school because I didn't want the burden of laundering it the day before the festival in case I got it dirty.

Dad flicked his hair in a rakish, debonair way, pretending to be a fancy butler as he escorted me to the bus. "Come now your majesty, we shall go to the bus stop," he said in a deep, British voice.

I could not suppress the giggle fit bubbling inside of me. I burst out laughing.

In class, while my English teacher drawled about conjunctions, I passed a note to Zachary, who sat two seats away diagonal to me.

I watched anxiously as the two twerps in between us exchanged the letter between them.

When it reached Zachary, he glared at me with a look that said "get me in trouble and it's over", before he reluctantly unfolded the crumpled note card. In the card I had written the words ℋℯ𝓁𝓅 𝓂ℯ. After what felt like an eternity of unremitting silence between us, he finally, FINALLY sent a reply through the two kids which I thought I would nickname Snail and Mail at the pace they were moving.

It read in his neat, legible, dorky handwriting: 𝙸 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙽. I shot him an appreciative glance, remembering the mirth in my father this morning as we worked, the laughter that echoed throughout the resort, setting up for the festival, enjoying his natural home. Thank God for Zach.

We scurried through the corridors after class, bumping into people and causing their belongings to topple over. We ignored the profanities that poured out of their mouths. I was so happy to see Jacklyn, Trisha, and Peter waiting at the front of the school I couldn't even think if the havoc I was wreaking over my peers.

Peter scooped me up and swung me in a circular motion, obviously struggling to twirl me around. I had grown a bit since I was eight, which was when my mom divorced my dad and when I met Peter abs the others, except for Trisha. She arrived when I turned ten, a broke teen kicked out of her house looking unruly and bedraggled. My dad paying her was the equivalent of taking her under his big, secure wing. "Hey Zach," Peter fist-pumped my petite friend. "Hey bro," Zach returned his gesture with a slap on the back. I would never get the way that boys greeted each other. Ever.

The bell rang, causing a sea of kids frantically trying to get to the cafeteria before the lunch line became too extensive for their short patience. Me and my friends maneuvered through the crowd, ducking and sliding in between the clusters of children skillfully, obviously my dad's employees were young enough to remember what it was like.

Zach and I swiped our lunches from the kitchen,

(A secret hack Zach had discovered a year back) and waiting for the hoard of people to disperse before going to an empty classroom to scheme.

I was astonished to see that Zach had organized a presentation during the class period after science. He projected it onto the big screen.

The title was "Saving Falcon". The subtitle was "You're Welcome Luanne Hayes, you're lucky to have a genius friend like me," that caused me to snicker.

We watched eagerly as he clicked through the introductory slides.

He explained an elaborate plan, with detailed explanations in each box of text and even included citations. WHen he was finished, we all stood up and applauded him.

"Shall we get to work?" Jacklyn said, she beamed at Zach and I could see his cheeks flush in flattery. "We shall," Trisha said, rising up from her plastic chair.

We devised a plan that would allow us to accomplish the most tasks in the shortest amount of time. Peter was in charge of Verbal Public Relations, I would design the flyers, Zach would print them, and the two older girls would go around the school hanging them up. I was bursting with enthusiasm. I really believed in the plan. Now it was time to execute it.