“Don’t forget the emu,” Morgan adds helpfully.
“Whoa, buddy.” Luna helps steady Alex when he starts to sway. He threads his hands through his short hair, eyes widening as he likely begins to compute whether he’ll build a cribwith pinewood or oak, and the shortest distance to the maternity ward in Athens.
“Stay where you are, Romina, and think tranquil thoughts, okay?” He begins to climb down the branches. Pauses. “Focus on the sound of the river! Let all of your stress wash away. I love you!”
“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Romina calls, then freaks out. “Ohno. You’re going to punch the lion in the face, aren’t you?”
Trevor gives Alex a thumbs-down as he descends past him. “Booooo. How dare you knock her up at a time like this? We were finally gonna go to Coachella!”
Romina points sternly at Trevor. “We are still doing that. You hear me? Don’t you dare sell my ticket.”
“Oh yeah, like you’re gonna wanna walk around the desert with a big ole watermelon in your stomach.” Luna snickers.
“It’ll be fine,” Trevor assures her. “Lana Del Rey can deliver the baby.”
Romina turns to him, excited. “Oh my gosh, can youimagine?”
They begin to discuss the likelihood of Lana Del Rey agreeing to be the baby’s godmother, and whether she might write songs about a Coachella baby (Indio ChildandI Heard the Baby Crying on a Friday Night While Singing About Dyingare top candidates for eventual album titles).
Alex settles himself on the lowest branch so that he can punch any lions in his girlfriend’s honor if the need arises.
“If the lion eats you,” Trevor tells him, “I’ll raise your baby as my own. Don’t worry. I’ll find a private school just like theone inSchool of Rock, and Little Ro will have the most sublime baby sneaker collection. All the other babies will be jealous.”
Alex drags a hand down his face.
“That is comforting, Trevor,” Romina tells him, sounding genuinely touched. “Thank you.”
I adjust the baby sling, Forte’s weight digging the strap into my neck. “You still haven’t told us what you’re all doing out here in the first place.”
“We were worried you might be in trouble,” Luna replies, as Trevor cuts her off:
“Lunawas worriedMorganmight be in trouble.”
Luna throws Morgan an apologetic glance. “It’s just that most of your footwear is vintage. And, you know.” She gestures to me. “Zel might have left you for dead if you inconvenienced her in any way.”
“Hey!” I cry.
“I brought three pairs of sneakers for you to choose from,” Trevor tells Morgan. “Since your shirt is pink, I’d go with green. Opposite on the color wheel, for maximum pop.”
“Aw. Thanks, man, you’re the best. Any chance you brought food, too?”
“Yeah, I brought burritos.”
We cheer.
“But I got hungry, so I had to eat them.”
I groan. Morgan groans. The lion groans (hungrily).
He’s found us and is working up an appetite prowling the base of our tree, shaggy golden mane abuzz with flies. He isn’t exactly skinny, which makes me wonder what his diet usually consists of. And how lions (and tigers and elephants) havemanaged to form a habitat in Moonville’s backyard. But, to make the scenario all the more bizarre, this lion has the tail of a betta fish.
It is glorious.
His elegant fins stream and flow as if that part of his body is underwater always. Morning sun pours through his fins’ webbing to light them like stained glass, beautiful and fiery. A lionfish.Black Bear Witch, whoever you are, I think to myself,you’ve certainly got a sense of humor.
“Aghh!” Romina shouts. “It’s back! Alex, punch it! Wait, don’t punch it. It might eat your arm. You have thebestarms.”
A chunk of rockkerflunks down the side of a cliff next to our tree. More chunks come raining after it. I turn away to avoid dust clouding my eyes. “Falling rocks,” I warn everyone.
