“You are safe now,” Mulan said. “We will pick up your friends at the bridge and we will carry you however far you need to go. The river, it is long.”
Charlene looked down at the spindle in Finn’s hand.
“We got it,” she said.
“We got it,” Finn echoed.
MRS. WHITMAN PICKED UP FINN, Maybeck, Willa, Dillard, and Charlene from Downtown Disney, where Mulan had dropped them. The conversation in the canoe had gone something like this:
“So,” Finn said, “are you really Mulan, or a Cast Member playing Mulan?”
“Let me ask you something,” the beautiful warrior woman responded. “Who were you running from just now? Cast Members?”
“Ah…yeah…okay. I get it,” Finn said.
Dillard looked confused, but impressed. Maybeck and Willa remained silent, kneeling near the second thwart from the stern. They looked back toward the shore, bewilderment on their faces.
Maybeck said, “No matter how much I think I’m used to what goes on here, it still freaks me out.”
The Chinese warriors navigated the lake, weaving the canoe between the exploding barges of fireworks, the air heavy with the tangy smell of gunpowder.
“By now, the Reflections of Earth team, led by Sam, has seen us,” Mulan explained. “Sam is the Crew Chief. His men have powerboats, and we are forbidden from being out here, so, unless you would like to explain yourself to Park Security, which I have no intention of doing, I would suggest you pick up a paddle and help out.”
That put all conversation on hold. Charlene, Dillard, Finn, Maybeck, and Willa grabbed paddles and began digging into the water with all their strength. The canoe raced silently across the black surface of the lake.
The gigantic globe of the Earth was spreading color across the water.
“If we can make it to the bridge at France before Sam catches us,” Mulan called out, “we can play a trick on him.”
Everyone put their backs into it. The canoe moved smoothly and silently. They left the fiery barges behind.
“We’ll be harder to see over there,” Maybeck said.
Mulan explained, “The light from the barges will blind them. It’ll buy us some time.”
Finn saw a powerboat zooming toward them.
“That would be Sam,” Mulan said.
“Faster!” Finn cried out.
Less than five minutes later, Sam’s Security boat motored beneath the bridge leading to France. On the walkway that was meant to imitate the quay along the river Seine in Paris, there were some boxes, a bicycle, a chest, and an upside-down canoe.
Hiding beneath the inverted canoe, tucked into balls and holding their shins, were two warriors, Mulan, and five kids, with barely an inch of space left over. The motorboat turned, heading back into the lake.
Now, riding in the Whitmans’ car, Finn needed yet another favor from his mom.
“We need to make a stop.”
“Finn…”
“Please.”
“Am I not supposed to ask why?”
“If you ask, I’m going to have to lie, and since I don’t lie to you, it might be better if you don’t ask.”
She huffed. “Dillard, what, if anything, do you have to do with all this?”
“I’m an innocent bystander.”
That cracked up everyone in the car.
“My sense is, Dillard,” Mrs. Whitman said, “that no one in this car, including me, is entirely innocent.” That quieted them down. She said, “Where to?”
Finn gave her the address by intersection. He added, “It might be good if you stopped, like, a half block away.”
“Finn?” she scolded.
“I’m just saying.…”
“What have I gotten myself into?” Mrs. Whitman complained.
“We’re trying to save someone, Mrs. Whitman,” Charlene said.
“Someone important to us,” Maybeck said, in a rare moment of genuine concern.
“Someone who needs us,” Willa added.
Mrs. Whitman nodded thoughtfully. “If I were a kid again,” she said, “I would want you all as my friends.” From then on, she didn’t ask any more questions.
Finn and Willa met Jess in back of Mrs. Nash’s house. Maybeck and Dillard staked out the street in case green-eyes were secretly watching the foster home. Charlene stayed by the car, having borrowed Mrs. Whitman’s phone to call Philby to catch him up.
Jess looked tired and unwell as they huddled in the shadow alongside a freestanding garden shed behind Mrs. Nash’s house.
“How is she?” Finn asked.
“Nothing,” she answered in a whisper. “She hasn’t moved. Hasn’t changed one bit.”
“These should help,” Finn said producing the acrobat’s spindle. Willa passed her the weaver’s spindle. “You’ll need to carve off a splinter and prick her finger.”