Gloria Skurzynski - Mysteries in Our National Parks - Over The Edge - A Mystery in Grand Canyon National Park

“I feel bad about his situation, but I don’t see how we can possibly take him with us. First of all, there’s the problem of an airline ticket and his clothing….”

“Don’t worry about the details. We can make it all work,” Steven replied.

Nodding slowly, Olivia paused before going on. “I guess I’m uncomfortable accepting someone who’s been involved in a crime. I don’t like his attitude. He doesn’t even seem sorry for what he did.”

“Wait a minute. Are you serious?” Steven jerked his fingers through his hair, which caused it to stand up in blonde tufts. “OK, OK, Morgan wrote a couple nasty comments on his own computer. Slap him on the wrist, and tell him he’s a bad boy. But mouthing off on a computer is not a real crime.”

“Steven, libel is a crime.”

“Not in this case. And not when you’re 15! You don’t know what detention is like,” he said, his voice heating up. “Remember—I was bounced from one foster home to another when I was a boy. One time they ran out of places to put me, so I had to stay in detention. Trust me, that kid does not belong there. If we can help him, we should.”

“I think he’s mean,” Ashley declared.

“Nobody asked what you think,” Jack shot back. “Dad’s right. We ought to do what we can to help.”

Olivia leaned forward, gently smoothing the top of Ashley’s tangled head. Then she looked into Jack’s eyes, hers brown, his gray-blue. “Why don’t you and Ashley head back to bed, OK?”

It wasn’t what she said, but the way she said it that let Jack know there was no use arguing. Reluctantly pulling himself to his feet, he shuffled as slowly as possible to his room, straining to hear as his parents’ voices rose and fell, his mother’s calm, his father’s urgent.

“Jack, wait a second,” Ashley whispered.

Sighing, he leaned against his door frame and looked down at his sister. “What?”

“You know how I sometimes get feelings about things, and then they come true? Well, I have a feeling about Morgan. It’s a really, really bad feeling, Jack.”

It was cold in the hallway, especially with just a T-shirt on for a top. “I don’t have time for this,” Jack groaned. “It’s probably the burritos you had for dinner.”

“I mean it, Jack.”

“So do I. Eat a Tums or something. Good night.”

He left her standing there. Wrapping himself into his plaid comforter, he watched as the red, boxy numbers on his alarm clock blinked away the minutes. Determined to wait for the verdict, Jack willed himself to stay awake, until a buzzing startled him. His eyes flew open to morning light shining though his window blinds and a small figure hovering in his doorway.

“Morgan—is he here?” Jack mumbled.

Ashley nodded, then walked away.

During the first part of their flight from Jackson Hole, Morgan told Jack a little about his school, complaining that Dry Creek was populated by redneck kids with low-octane brains. In the small town of 700, there was nothing to do but ride horses, which Morgan adamantly refused to do, and nothing to see except scrawny cows and scrawnier chickens. Every other comment he made was punctuated by his request to use Olivia’s laptop, which Olivia declined to hand over. Morgan kept talking, but when the seat-belt light blinked off, Ashley quickly escaped toward the rest room. Jack followed.

“I don’t think I can take another two hours listening to him,” she complained the minute they were out of Morgan’s hearing. “He is driving me absolutely crazy.”

They bumped their way down the narrow aisle until they reached the back of the plane. A man with a bald, round head and a much rounder paunch stood ahead of them, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the tiny “Occupied” sign to slide to “Vacant.” For a moment, Jack wondered how the man would fit into a bathroom as small as a metal coffin, but when the door open, the man managed to turn sideways and squeeze inside.

“I mean, all he does is talk about himself,” Ashley continued. “Have you noticed that everyone else is stupid, and he’s brilliant, and blah, blah, blah. When Mom told him about going to the Grand Canyon because the condors were dying, he just stared out the window like he didn’t even care. Maybe if everyone hates him, he should get a clue. I want to say, ‘Hello—the problem is you, Morgan.’”

“He’s not so bad,” Jack said defensively.

When Ashley gave him a look, he said, “OK, he’s weird, but he’s also…interesting.”

“As long as you buy into everything he’s saying. And he’s like obsessed with computers. Mom thinks he could be dangerous, and I think she’s right.”

“Oh, come on. When did Mom say that?” Jack demanded.

“Last night. While you were in bed, I snuck down the hall and listened in on their conversation. I’ve never heard them argue about taking in a foster kid before.” With her fingers curled against her protruding hip, Ashley waved her free hand in the air, almost hitting a flight attendant who hustled by. “Finally, Mom told Dad if it was that important she’d go along, but she thought any kid vicious enough to trash a whole town had a lot of pent-up rage. Then Dad told her that it was a lot healthier to write about bad feelings than act on them, and then they called Ms. Lopez inside and took Morgan.”

The lavatory door opened, and the round man pushed his way out. Ashley was next.

“What I can’t figure out is why you even like him,” she declared from the doorway. “He’s a punk.”

“I didn’t say I liked him.”

“You don’t have to.” With that, Ashley snapped the door shut, leaving Jack to think about what she’d said. It wasn’t exactly that he liked Morgan, but he couldn’t help being drawn to his…what was it? Maybe his self-assured view of the world according to Morgan. His braininess. Maybe even the fact that people thought him dangerous, although Jack didn’t believe it. By the time Jack had made it back to his seat, he could tell Morgan had said something that had set Jack’s mother off again. He could see her eyes flashing, while Ashley, already seated, wore an I-told-you-Morgan-was-trouble expression.

“Hey—what’s going on?” he asked, settling down in his seat. He was in the middle, Morgan had folded himself in next to the window, and Ashley had the aisle. Their parents were seated directly opposite them.

“Morgan just informed us that he’s not at all interested in the Grand Canyon,” Olivia answered tartly. “He says it’s nothing more than a big hole in the ground.”

Jack pressed his fingertips into his forehead.

“What do you expect from an anarchist? The definition of my personality is to rebel. If the masses like it, I won’t,” Morgan answered.

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you see the canyon,” Steven commented, trying to smooth things. “Olivia, why don’t you tell me more about your plan for the condors? What’s your first move?”

Twisting back into her seat, Olivia allowed herself to get drawn into a conversation about the enormous, prehistoric birds that were dying in the Grand Canyon. Jack let out a breath. The immediate danger had passed.

“What was that all about?” Jack hissed at Morgan.

“You mean just now? Nothing. I was just disagreeing.”

“Did you have to be rude?”

“Hey, it’s free speech.”

“It’s stupid. You can’t say everything that pops into your mind. Besides, this is my family. You get my mom upset and the whole thing goes south. If you want to get along with me, you need to learn when to shut up!”

Morgan’s defiance quickly changed to amusement and then settled into what might have been a glimmer of respect. “OK,” he said, nodding. Keeping his voice low enough that the others couldn’t hear, he whispered, “I guess it’s true that every once in a while, I do cross the verbal line. I didn’t think calling the Grand Canyon a hole in the ground was that big a deal, but I stand corrected.”