The Chupacabras of the Río Grande Read online

  “What were you after, little guy?” Uchenna asked, picking him up and rubbing his furry blue head. He looked at her proudly, as if he’d chased off a great and terrible danger, and they should all be thankful to him. “Weirdo,” said Uchenna, and she rubbed his head some more.

  “There!” Professor Fauna said as he plucked the last cactus spine from Elliot’s arm. “Now, back to the car!”

  “It’s a plane, Professor,” Uchenna said.

  “Yes, but we are using it as a car.” They walked back through the scrub to the Phoenix, Uchenna cradling Jersey like a baby, Elliot rubbing his arm and grimacing. “Tell me, children,” the professor went on, “is the Phoenix defined by its intention, or by its function? It was made to be a plane. But we are using it as a car. So which is it? Or, as another example, if you have a book, but you use it to level the legs of your sofa, is it really a book? Or is it a sofa-leveler? Is there a word for this in English? A sofa-leveler?”

  Elliot scanned his internal mental dictionary. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t think there is one in Spanish, either,” Professor Fauna said. “Anywhat . . . So, what is this sofa-book? Is it its intention, or its function? Or take this border wall that is being built. What is it intended to do? Enforce the immigration laws of the United States, no? And what is it actually doing? Maybe enforcing the laws, but also dividing communities and families who have always lived on both sides of the border. So what is the wall? This is a question a philosopher might answer by—”

  “Professor,” said Elliot.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t we have to find some chupacabras, stop them from sucking the blood from all the cattle in Texas, figure out what the Schmokes are up to, and still get home before dinnertime?”

  “Ah, right. Okay. The TV report said there would be a meeting at the Laredo city hall about the dead cows,” said Professor Fauna. “I think we should begin our searching there.” They all climbed into the Phoenix. “On the drive, though, let me tell you what the philosopher Elizabeth Anscombe has to say about intention and function. . . .”

  Within moments, Uchenna, Elliot, and Jersey were all fast asleep. The professor, on the other hand, delivered a fascinating lecture to the norteño band on the radio.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Despierten, chibolos. We have arrived.”

  Uchenna shook herself awake. The professor had squeezed the Phoenix into a parking lot across the street from a large, multistoried building that had to be Laredo City Hall. A crowd of people had gathered outside, some of them carrying homemade signs and shouting slogans.

  “Come on, Elliot,” Uchenna said, tapping her friend on the shoulder. He jerked open his eyes with a start. “What? Where? Oh. Laredo. Suckers of goats. Yay.” He rubbed his eyes, then yawned as he unbuckled his harness and grabbed the backpack. Jersey was still asleep inside.

  The members of the Unicorn Rescue Society exited the plane and crossed the narrow street. Uchenna wiped sweat from her forehead. “It sure is hot.”

  Professor Fauna nodded. “Yes, and it is still morning. Wait until the afternoon.”

  As they weaved their way through the noisy crowd outside city hall, they realized the people had all gathered to protest—but for different protests. Some people held signs that read PROTECT OUR CATTLE FROM RUSTLERS or BUILD THAT WALL, while others proclaimed TODOS UN PUEBLO—WE ARE ONE PEOPLE and STOP SEPARATING FAMILIES. A few groups of protestors were shouting at one another, but most were calmly chanting their slogans or handing out brochures.

  “Wow,” said Elliot. “The chupacabras attack really got people riled up.”

  “I think they’re upset about more than that,” Uchenna replied, eyeing the crowd warily.

  They passed a looming statue of George Washington and made it through the tall double doors of the modern city hall. The high-ceilinged atrium just inside was glowing with light from the big windows above the door. The broad space was full of people, many milling about the receptionist’s desk.

  The professor led Elliot and Uchenna down a hall to the council chambers, where a meeting was in session. The doors were open, but all the seats were taken. People were standing behind the chairs and along the walls, tightly packed together.

  At the front, the city council members sat behind a high bench. Before them was a podium. A woman was addressing them. Her brown hair bounced up and down as she slapped her hand against the podium.

  “Listen to yourselves! It’s ridiculous to think people are crossing the border just to kill our cattle. Shame on everybody who’s using the death of a cow as an excuse to support building a border wall!”

  “That voice,” muttered Professor Fauna, squinting and standing on tiptoes to see over the crowd. “Why is it so familiar?”

  Just then, a tall man nearby wearing a broad-brimmed cowboy hat shook his head, muttered something, and walked out of the council chambers.

  “The rancher!” exclaimed the professor. “Mr. Braunfels, from the television! I need to speak with him!”

  Pulling anxiously on his unruly hair, the professor hurried after the man.

  “What about us?” Uchenna shouted after him.

  “Investigate, children. Question others. Find out what you can,” he called back over his shoulder.

  Elliot fanned his face. “Can we investigate outside? These angry people are using up all the oxygen.”

  Uchenna nodded. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Elliot and Uchenna managed to squeeze back through the crowd and out of the building, to the public square under the bright blue sky. A few yards away, the professor had cornered the rancher and was moving his hands about in exaggerated gestures. They heard Bob Braunfels say, “Are you serious?” And then, “That’s why we need a wall!”

  Elliot stopped. “What do you think the professor is saying?” he asked Uchenna. “He’s not telling the rancher about the chupacabras, is he?”

  Uchenna shrugged. “I doubt it. Would the rancher even believe him if he did?” She began looking around for someone to interrogate. She noticed a couple of kids standing under the twisting branches of a live oak.

  “Let’s talk to them,” she said. “They can’t be nearly as crazy as all these shouting grown-ups.”

  Elliot and Uchenna walked toward the two kids—a boy and a girl, possibly siblings—about the same age as Uchenna and Elliot. The boy was holding a Styrofoam cup in one hand, spooning some sort of red snack into his mouth.

  “Hey,” said Uchenna, as they approached.

  The girl pushed her long, black hair behind one ear. “Hey,” she said. She looked from Uchenna to Elliot and back again. “Are you here to protest the wall, or support it?”

  Elliot and Uchenna glanced at each other. What was the right answer? After a pause, Elliot decided that the best answer, as usual, was the truth:

  “Neither. We’re looking into something else.”

  Now it was the boy’s and the girl’s turn to glance at each other. The girl said, “That sounds mysterious.” The boy put some more red stuff into his mouth, without taking his eyes off Elliot.

  Uchenna said, “What do you know about the way that calf died?”

  The girl said, “Blood sucked out of it. Everyone knows that.”

  Elliot decided to stay cagey. “What could have done that?” he asked.

  The boy and the girl made eye contact again. The girl said, “What do you think did it?”

  “Oh, we’ve heard some crazy stories,” Uchenna told her breezily. “Vampires . . . enormous leeches . . .” She paused. “Chupacabras.”

  The boy had brought the spoon up to his mouth, but at this he lowered it. “Chupacabras, huh?”

  “There might be some evidence.” Uchenna shrugged.

  “What evidence?” the girl replied, a little too quickly. Then she tried to look like she didn’t
care.

  Elliot was terrible at pretending that he didn’t care. “What evidence?!” he exclaimed. “How about the three tooth marks—two on top of the ankle and one underneath!”

  The boy and the girl looked very serious now. “How do you know so much about chupacabras?” asked the girl.

  Uchenna said, “Who says we do?”

  But Elliot, at the exact same moment, said, “We’re part of a society.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, he wanted to kick himself. The Unicorn Rescue Society was secret. There were too many people who might want to hurt the animals of myth and legend. Or, just as bad, take advantage of them.

  But now the boy and the girl both looked very tense. They were leaning forward with interest. The boy said, “What kind of society ‘looks into’ chupacabras?”

  Elliot knew he had said too much. He looked at Uchenna. Still trying as hard as she could to play it cool, she shrugged and said, “Why do you care?”

  The boy and the girl communicated without a word. They were so in sync they must have been brother and sister. After a moment, the brother said, “Let’s just say we care about keeping chupacabras safe from those who might misunderstand them.”

  This impressed both Uchenna and Elliot. They looked at each other, tried to communicate as subtly as these two kids did, realized they couldn’t, and so at last Elliot nodded.

  Uchenna turned back to the brother and sister. “Our group is called the Unicorn Rescue Society.”

  Neither Elliot nor Uchenna was prepared for the looks of amazement on the siblings’ faces. The girl’s jaw dropped open. The boy nearly choked on his snack.

  The girl pounded the boy on the back to make sure he wasn’t actually choking, and then turned to Elliot and Uchenna. Timidly, she said, “Defende Fabulosa?”

  Now it was Uchenna’s and Elliot’s turn to be shocked.

  Uchenna managed to respond, “Protege Mythica.”

  The four children stared at one another.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The boy said, “I’m Mateo. This is my sister, Guadalupe. We call her Lupita. Are you really members of the Unicorn Rescue Society? We have been waiting forever to meet one of you guys!”

  “I’m Uchenna and this is Elliot,” Uchenna replied. Then she cocked her head at Mateo and Lupita. “So . . . wait. Are you members of the Unicorn Rescue Society, too?”

  Lupita shook her head. “No. We wish. One day, we were snooping around our mother’s office at home—”

  “Don’t judge,” Mateo interjected around a bite of his snack, which never seemed to run out. “She’s a biologist, and her office is full of supercool stuff.”

  “Anyway,” Lupita continued, “we found an old scientific journal locked away in her desk. One of those things that science organizations publish once a year. Procedimientos de la sociedad para el rescate de los unicornios. That’s Spanish. It means—”

  “Proceedings of the Unicorn Rescue Society?” Uchenna said.

  Elliot scratched his head. “We have a scientific journal? What the heck? When was Professor Fauna going to tell me? I could be the editor!”

  Lupita took a sharp breath. “Dr. Mito Fauna? DVM, PhD, EdD?”

  Uchenna nodded. “Yup. He’s our mentor in the Unicorn Rescue Society. He’s over there somewhere, talking to a witness. You know him?”

  “He wrote most of the articles in the Proceedings, so, yeah!” Lupita said excitedly. “He’s a genius.”

  Uchenna started laughing. “Oh yeah, definitely. A mad genius.”

  Elliot squinted against the sun, which was nearly above them now and hotter than ever. “So, your mom’s a biologist. Did you ask her how she got the journal?”

  “She doesn’t know we’ve read it,” Mateo said, waving his plastic spoon back and forth, like looking at her private stuff would be a big no-no. “She can be kinda secretive.”

  Elliot peered at the cup. “What are you eating, Mateo?”

  “Watermelon with chili powder.” He spooned some up and held it out to Elliot. “Want some?”

  Who in their right mind ruins watermelon with chili powder? Elliot wondered. If this was an indication of border cuisine, he sure hoped they got back to New Jersey by dinnertime. But he just replied, “Uh, no thanks. I’m, uh, not into spicy food.”

  Lupita pointed to the entrance to city hall. “Look! There’s our parents. Mom must’ve finished talking.”

  Mateo added under his breath, “Or they threw her out.”

  Grabbing Uchenna’s hand, Lupita gestured at the boys. “Come on. You’ve got to meet them. They are so going to be surprised!”

  Mateo shook his head and tossed his cup into a nearby trash can before muttering to Elliot: “We are so going to be in trouble. Lupita’s going to try to be all clever when she mentions the Unicorn Rescue Society, but she’ll put her foot in it. I better help.”

  Mateo and Lupita’s parents greeted them with warm smiles as Lupita approached, Uchenna in tow. Their mother was tall, with long brown hair, dark eyes, and a hazelnut complexion. She was the woman Elliot and Uchenna had seen speaking in the chamber. Their father was a little shorter, black hair contrasting with his lighter eyes and skin.

  “Mamá, Dad! How did it go?”

  “Ay, m’ija, they just won’t listen.” Her mother shook her head. “I see you made new friends, though.”

  Lupita smiled. “Oh yes. Now, before I introduce them, I need to explain something.”

  Mateo arrived beside his sister, with Elliot behind him, and announced: “We broke into your office last year and read about the Unicorn Rescue Society. These two guys are members.”

  “Mateo!” Lupita exclaimed, her cheery demeanor disappearing. “A little more finesse, no?”

  “Better to just rip the Band-Aid off.”

  Their mother had narrowed her eyes. Her gaze was furious.

  “¿Cómo pudieron? I strictly asked you—”

  “Mamá,” Lupita said sweetly. “We were wrong, and we know there will be consequences. But right now? Please, listen. Elliot, Uchenna, this is my mom, Dr. Alejandra Cervantes, and my dad, Israel Cervantes.”

  Uchenna reached out her hand. “Hi, Dr. Cervantes. Nice to meet you. We’re here about the chupacabras.”

  The woman shook Uchenna’s hand. “I don’t understand. Where are you from? If you’re really with the society, what chapter?”

  Elliot cleared his throat. “Well, I guess the original one. We’re students of Professor Fauna’s.”

  Mr. Cervantes did a double-take, staring at his wife in shock. “Wait. Fauna’s here? Did you contact him?”

  “What?” she said, mortified. “No!”

  Uchenna could sense the tension, so she interrupted to clarify. “We saw the reports on TV. We flew down so the professor could interview some rancher dude.”

  Scanning the crowd, Elliot caught sight of Fauna’s unmistakable hair. “There he is now, by the statue of George Washington.”

  Her face scrunching up strangely, Dr. Cervantes stormed off in that direction. Her husband hurried after, trailed by Lupita and Uchenna.

  “Oh, man,” muttered Mateo. “This is gonna be good. Sensing some majorly messed-up vibes right now.”

  As they all hurried after Dr. Cervantes, the backpack on Elliot’s back began to move, jerking and twisting on his back. Jersey was awake and wanted out.

  “Not now!” Elliot hissed over his shoulder. “Totally the wrong time, little guy!”

  “Uh, Elliot?” Mateo said. “Are you talking to your backpack?”

  “It’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”

  Professor Fauna was just shaking hands with the rancher when Dr. Cervantes reached him. She barked: “¿Qué haces aquí, Erasmo? Don’t you have any creatures to harass in Lima?”

  The professor whirled around, his eyes wide.

  “Alejandra?” he as
ked, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Why aren’t you in Mexico?” demanded Professor Fauna.

  “Why aren’t you in Peru?” Dr. Cervantes demanded right back.

  Professor Fauna regained his composure a little. “I live in this country now. Teaching young people and continuing the work. And you?”

  Dr. Cervantes eyed him and then allowed her anger to subside for a moment. “Same here. I finished my doctorate. I came to Laredo to teach at Texas A&M International University. And I met Israel. A wonderful herbalist. Not a bad husband, either.” Israel wiggled his fingers at the professor and gave a goofy grin. “Now we have these two brilliant huercos,” she went on, “who can’t seem to stay out of their mother’s private files.” Dr. Cervantes ended this statement with a glare at Mateo and Lupita. They both looked at their shoelaces.

  “But . . .” Fauna beetled his bushy brows. “Who is keeping watch over the gente pájaro down in Monterrey?”

  Elliot felt Jersey slam against his back, frantically trying to escape. Pulling the backpack off his back and gripping it reassuringly against his chest, Elliot unzipped it a little and peered inside. Jersey was invisible.

  “Shhh,” Elliot whispered into the backpack.

  Gente pájaro. Uchenna tried to decipher that with her rudimentary Spanish. “Uh, ‘bird people’? Is that a thing?”

  Dr. Cervantes smiled. “Yes, Uchenna, though they’re really more like spider monkeys with wings and a bad attitude. That’s how I met your teacher, you see. I was a biology student in the city of Monterrey—that’s in Mexico—when he came barging into my life, recruiting me into the Unicorn Rescue Society so I could help him save these little, flying simian creatures. Oh, I was as excited as you must be, going on adventures, risking life and limb. Defende Fabulosa! Protege Mythica! But then I woke up.”