SPEAKER_00 1:05

Chapter eight. Oof! I land on my side, hard enough to cause a dusty poof in every direction. Through the dirty cloud I see nothing but wide, deserted land, and muted, rusty colours. Not quite a soft landing, I think, and rub my shoulder. But at least we survived. I hugged Peev for the first time, never so happy to see his furry face. What in the world was that? He sniffs me and licks my cheek, clearly enjoying the water still cascading down my face. Thanks, buddy. I swipe at my face, then glance down at my sopping clothes and the three foot puddle surrounding us on the dusty ground. Here and there patches of grass seem to be growing, but mostly I see lots of red dirt in every direction. How did we go from so much water to none at all? This can't be New York. I think a little wave of panic starting to quiver in my gut. Where the heck are we? Peeves ears prick up and he looks out into the distance. I squint that way and think I see movement. Are there people over there, boy? Should we go and look? He chuffs and rises to his feet. Only one way to find out where we are, right? I say in my bravest voice. I lead him forward, but my stomach gets queasier with every step. I'm thinking that whoever said to be careful what you wish for really knows what she's talking about. But I'm here wherever that is. And it doesn't look like anybody's gonna come and find me. I reach down and press my hand over my pocket, making sure that I still have the compass. I don't feel the warmth anymore, but it's there and I breathe a gigantic sigh of relief. I'm pretty sure I need it to get home. Now we just need to figure out what actually makes it work. We walk for a while, and then I start to hear what Peeves' ears must have picked up a long time ago. Kids. I hear laughing and yelling and some singing. My chest feels a little fuller at the sound of the song. It's amazing how good it feels to not be alone, no matter where you are. I expect to see a playground at some point, since that's what playgrounds sound like where I come from. When we get close though, it's just more field with a rickety looking fence around it. Kids with chocolate brown colored skin which seems to beam with determination, run and play. Some chasing afraid dirty soccer ball, and others playing tag, jumping rope, singing, or just talking. Some wearing ragged, loose fitting clothes, but others wear what must be school uniforms, short sleeve white shirts and royal blue trousers or skirts. Most of them are shoeless. Peef gets excited when he sees them playing, and his steps get a little bouncier. Easy boy, I tell him, he's a big guy and people sometimes get scared of him, so I sure don't want to rush in and cause a problem. Before we do anything, we need some answers. As if summoned by my request, a tall, thin girl about my age walks slowly toward us. I notice that her hair is shaved close to the head, like a buzz cut. That's different for a girl our age. She looks a little scared, and I try to imagine what we must look like to her. A soaking wet white girl with blonde hair and a baby horse of a dog. I smile and give a little wave, hoping that will help, and also hoping I don't look as freaked out as I feel inside. I mean, there's really no way to be chill about what just happened, but I have to try. Hello, I say, when she's a few feet away. Can you tell me where we are? She blinks a few times, like she's not believing her eyes. But then her wide, welcoming smile appears. This is Africa, my dear, she tells me. Our country is called Malawi, and my name is Hope. You are most welcome here. My head buzzes. How is that possible? I was just in New York, in Central Park minutes ago. Africa Malawi How did we get here? Next to me? Peev wears his friendly face. Although the height of his ears tells me he's a bit freaked out too. I pat him gently, needing to reassure us both. There must be a good explanation for this. The girl shakes her head slowly, and I can tell she doesn't quite trust her eyes. I cannot tell you that, friend. You simply appeared. My mouth falls open. Holy cow. So we just friggin' beamed from New York, United States to Africa on a water bridge. Hope stares at me like I'm crazy, and I'm starting to feel like I am. I take a deep breath, then sigh it out slowly. At least it's not as humid here as it was in New York. She walks in the other direction and waves for me to come along. I don't want to be rude, so I gather up Peeves leash and hurry to her side. Here we are, she says, as we approach a round cement platform with a water pump in the center. You look like you need this. Peave runs straight to the spout, darting in front of a long line of people, many of whom are brightly dressed women with babies and small children on their backs, who all look either stunned or worried. I yank him back and get in line with hope, trying to smile an apology at every face along the way. Is this the only water source for all of these people? My cheeks color a little, thinking about not having to do more than turn the faucet on in my own house for my entire life. When it's finally our turn, Peev rushes forward and laps like he's never seen water before. When I hear gasps from behind, I gently pull him back, worried that we broke some kind of rule. There definitely aren't any other dogs waiting in the water line here. Smiling her approval, hope pumps a little more and I drink through cupped hands, marveling at how good the water tastes. As my thirst goes away, questions fill my head, and the weight of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. This is all pretty fantastic and unbelievable, but the idea of not being able to get home makes me feel wobbly and small. I stare out at the horizon and try to pull myself together. The sun hangs low in the sky. Do you know what time it is? I asked Hope. It's after six o'clock, since that is when I gather water for my family each night. My whole body shakes. Oh my god, my dad is not going to be happy. He doesn't even know I'm out for a walk. Never mind that I got myself lost in Africa. Why do you look so afraid, my dear? You have nothing to fear from us. Her kindness calms me down, and I find a smile for her. I'm more worried about how to get back home and how much trouble I'm going to be in if I figure it out. Hope frowns. Where is home, my dear? And may I know how you are called? I blink at her. How I'm called? I dig for my phone. Then stop when it hits me that she's asking me about my name. Here I am, slurping water and asking questions like I own the place, and I haven't even introduced myself. So sorry, I say, finding her a big smile. My name is Coral, and this big guy is my dog, Peev. Hope starts to smile, but wavers a little when she glances at Peev. He is always friendly? Oh always, I tell her. He really loves people, and he's more like a big teddy bear than anything else. She doesn't quite look convinced, maybe a little confused, so I try harder. He snores a little, so I sometimes make him sleep at the foot of my bed. But he's the best ever to snuggle with. Her eyes got round. This dog is bigger than most of our cows. He lives in your house Of course I say. Not sure why that's so surprising. He's part of my family. Hope nods slowly, eyes on Peev. I am thinking you do not live in Africa. I shake my head. Now that's an understatement. I live in New York City in the United States of America. Her eyes narrow, and I can't tell if she doesn't know where that is or if she doesn't believe me. I probably wouldn't believe me either. I glance around me and wonder what it would be like to live surrounded by so much open land in shades of reddish brown. Sure, it goes a little flat and gray in New York City in the winter, but then spring comes and changes things up. Hopefully that happens here too. She presses her lips into a soft line, almost a smile. I have heard of New York City, and I have studied America in school. I know it is very far away. Why then are you here? I lean down to pump a little more water for Peev, who's panting like there's not enough air in the world to satisfy him. I can't actually explain that at the moment. I say, then realize the line has turned into a crowd, and it's gathered around us. Heart pounding, I grab hold of Peev's collar as he drinks, hoping he'll act like a teddy bear as I just described him, even when surrounded by what seems like at least five hundred curious kids and they're not so thrilled moms. Their bright eyes search me like I'm a ghost, and I take a long deep breath. I've gone thirteen years with almost nothing interesting happening in my life, and now in just one day, I'm racking up one crazy amazing moment after another. Hope steps forward and holds out her hand. Come with me, she says. Let's talk. I move toward her, but Peev hesitates. It's okay, boy, I say, reaching down to scratch his head. I know I've asked so much of you today, but hang in there with me, okay? He snorts, then chuffs, which I take as a concerned yes. I know you're right, but we do need to figure out how to get home. He snorts again, then steps up and nudges my leg. He's such a good guy. I think then glance at Hope, who now looks like she's not sure she wants to go anywhere with me. He's just looking out for me, I tell her. She breaks into a bright smile and holds out her hand once again. I hurry to take it this time. She leads us across a nearby road and gestures toward a big rock at its edge. She sits down when we reach it, and I happily do the same. The sweet smell of burning charcoal mixed with dust washes over me, sharpened by a thick exhaust from a wave of vehicles beeping their horns and zipping past us. I sneeze hard, my nose suddenly congested. I guess even in Africa, traffic is a problem. But it never makes me stuffy at home. I think about what I might ask her, then realize I have some urgent personal business to take care of first. Hope I know we have a lot to talk about, but before we do, can you tell me where to find a bathroom? She cocks her head, looking a little like Peev when he's confused. A bathroom? Oh greet, my heart flutters. This isn't good. I need to you know use the toilet Her eyes light up, telling me she gets it. But then her lips purse like there's a problem. Can you hold it for a while, Coral? There is no safe place near here for girls our age. If you want, I will take you to my home, and you can go there. A little wave of panic washes over me. Like it might be a bad thing to move too far from the field where Peev and I landed. But then I decide that I can't hold it forever, and hope will know how to get back there if that's the only way to get home. Okay, I say, and we're off and moving again. I'm sorry we must walk a while, Coral, but water here is very precious, and you will soon see that our toilets are not always worth visiting, especially for girls. So many of us fall sick. Her expression turns sad. I have heard about sanitation and hygiene classes held many kilometers from our village, and I hope my mother will let me travel there. My little brother is one who is ill, and I really wish to help him and others in our village. But my mother thinks I should spend my time on chores or taking care of my brothers and sisters. As I listen, guilt slithers up my spine and settles on my shoulders. In my house we have three big bathrooms for just two people, plus someone who comes in once a week to clean them. Do you think your mother will change her mind? I ask. Hope shakes her head. She thinks I've lost my mind. I will have to wake before dawn to fill the water can, gather firewood, and fetch beans from the garden before I go. But I fear missing the information more than getting in trouble. My guilt deepens. I mean, I know we have some problems in New York City, but my life couldn't be more different than hope's. It sounds like your days are long, I tell her. She shrugs. My family shares a vegetable garden with a few others in the village, and I am often asked to assist with the planting and harvesting. I am known for having a special ability to make things grow. Most days I make it to school on time or quite close to it. But on the day of the assembly I will have to miss school and walk much farther to learn about water-related disease. But it will be worth my time to help my brother and to make it so fewer of us fall ill. Wow, is all I can say. After we walk for a while, the area starts to look more like a neighborhood, with small structures made of wood and cardboard, curvy metal panels fixed on top. Children are playing outside, and the smell of food stirs hunger pains. Peev notices it too. I see him licking his chops. This is my home, Hope tells me. The toilet is just there. She points to a wooden box about the size of a porta potty behind the house. We can tie Peeves lead to the fence. I will get some water for him. I watch her go, stunned at her generosity, I now understand what a gift that water is, especially when she's offering it to my dog instead of her family. Feeling so humble and with a bladder ready to burst, I head to the wooden toilet box. Inside I find a smelly hole in the ground with a bench above it, flies buzzing around everywhere. The sight grosses me out, but I have to go so badly I can't wiggle my way out of my sweaty shorts fast enough. At this point, pretty much any place will be okay. Ah I sigh, happy to have at least one worry off my mind. As I leave the latrine, I plaster a smile on my face, not wanting hope to see anything but gratitude. She joins me in the yard with three little kids, two girls and a boy. Coral, these are my sisters, Patience and Rose. And this is my brother, Chwembe, the youngest in our family. He has had many bouts with dehydration caused by diarrhea. This is why I must attend the hygiene and sanitation workshop. I nodded. Looking around for a sink and wondering what I should do if there is not one. Could I maybe rinse my hands somewhere, Hope? She raises an eyebrow like she's intrigued, then walks over and grabs me a pitcher sitting next to the house. She waves me over and gestures for me to hold out my hands. I rinse them, then wipe them on my shorts, trying not to make too big deal of it, and making a mental note to bring some soap back with me if I ever manage. First, to get home, and second, to come back to Malawi. In fact, I probably have tons of things at home that would blow her mind. My own braid explodes with the thought of how life-changing that class will be for her. Then the wheels in my head turned faster, reminding me that I'd traveled to this place on a water bridge, reminding me that Miriam told me I would soon meet three other girls my age, reminding me that I'd come here from a city having water problems of its own. It feels like electricity pulsing beneath my skin. Hope. I don't know exactly how I got here, but I do think there's a reason you and I needed to meet. There are water problems starting in New York too, and I spent my past week getting this mysterious gift and meeting this strange woman who told me I'm Pathfinder of the EcoMasters and have a mission to find three other girls my age. Hope stares at me, her eyes narrow, her hand rises to her neck, and she presses her fingers against the collar of her blouse. What is this gift? I take a deep breath and pull the compass from my pocket. It showed up at my door a few days ago, and I hold it out to her, cradling it in her palm. Hope peers at its face. What do these symbols mean? I don't know, I tell her with a shrug. I didn't even think it worked until right before I landed here. It's not a normal compass, that's for sure. Her dark eyes fix on mine, and you say it just showed up at your door? Yes, with a note, leading me to a lady named Miriam, who was very nice, but left me with more questions than she answered. She called you a pathfinder? My breath catches in my throat, and Hope's forehead creases like she's solving an algebra problem. That's the word she used, I tell her. She purses her lips and says nothing for what feels like the longest time. Finally, she lifts her hand to her neck again, then reaches beneath her collar and holds up a pale blue pendant, carved to look like a flower. I found this outside my door a few days ago. It is a lotus blossom, the flower of my country, and a symbol of purity, carved from Malawi agate, which is very rare. No one I know owns such a thing. I gasp, loud enough to make Peev jump to his feet and walk to my side. He noses the back of my knee like he's checking for weak spots. It's okay, buddy, I tell him, never taking my eyes off hope and the pendant. Was there a note? She nods. It said my name on one side. Anything on the other side? Hope nods again. It said The World in a Wish A long shiver scurries down my spine like a centipede in a hurry. I don't know why hearing this message rattles me more than a giant water bridge, but it sure the heck does Did you? I ask. Did I what? Wish She looks up at the sky, eyes in thinking mode, then nods. After my mother said I should do my chores instead of going to the assembly, I made a wish to help my people. I remember falling asleep with that thought. This was wrapped in cloth and lying outside my door the next morning. My mouth falls open. This is crazy, kind of exciting, but super crazy. That's what made this compass work too. A wish Hope's eyes get big and wide. How is that possible, Coral? I do not know yet. The words sound sadder than I mean them, which makes Peev lick my hand. I scratch under his chin, needing him to stay calm while I figure things out. I guess we'll find the answers as we go. She studies me, not quite looking convinced. So we will see each other again. None of this makes sense if we don't. Hope nods. You're right, Pathfinder Coral, she says and then smiles. And we shall learn the way of the Ecomasters. Just then a familiar sound blasts out of my pocket. I jump at least a foot in the air, making Peev bark and dancing at my side. My phone I tell her as I try to pull it out of my pocket and call my canine friend at the same time. When I finally see the screen, it feels like every drop of blood in my body lands in my shoes. The word dad glares across at me. Yikes, I say, exhaling hard as I push the ignore button. You have a phone just for you? Yeah. You don't? I look up at Hope, and the amazement on her face makes me feel silly. Of course she doesn't have a phone. She doesn't even have soap for crying out loud. So sorry, I say. That just popped out. I forgot how far from home I am. She beams at me with her big smile, and I know I've been forgiven. I guess I do need to get back there. That call means my dad is looking for me. Why did you not answer? I sigh. It's a long story. I'm sure we'll get to talk about it sometime. I look at her in the eye. Now that we're friends, that is her smile gets even bigger. I am very happy about this. Me too, I say. Okay, but how will we get home? Hope reflects with furrowed brows. Correl, if we think about how things have happened so far, it looks like you need to be near water and make a wish with the compass. Yes, that is exactly right, I enthusiastically agree. But hope adds water is harder to find here. I sigh, so I've seen. I glance down at Peev, who's no longer dancing around, but definitely not relaxed. He's panting again, which makes me think of how he looked when we first got here to Malawi. That's it, I say. The pump. We need to get back to that pump. That'll be much easier to find than the random puddle we landed in first. Her eyes light up. Good thinking. I forgot to fetch my family's water, so we'll also help me to finish my chores. We dash off the way we came, Hope and Peev and me, and within minutes we're back on the cement platform. Hope grabs the pump handle and looks at me. Ready? One sec I run over and hug her, and then look into her friendly eyes. Thank you for being so kind and teaching me so much, Hope. I promise I will find a way for us to stay in touch. She nods and squeezes my hand. Yes, you will. Today I learned that anything is possible. My stomach goes a little queasy at that, since anything doesn't just mean the good stuff. But enough of that, I tell myself, and steer Peev closer to the spout. I pull the compass from my pocket, give Hope one more smile, and stare down into the needled face. I wish to go home, I say, as Hope's hand goes into motion and the water starts flowing. Peave whines a little, like he's seen this movie before, and wasn't a fan. But I tug him closer and keep staring at the compass. Just like last time, the needle starts to do its thing. First the back and forth pattern, and then just as the tugging pressure starts in my rib cage, the needle spins faster and faster. I hear a sharp snort from Peev, and I look up just in time to see the water swells as it leaves the pump. In a second or two, it's somehow a river, foamy with rapids. It doesn't touch hope, standing behind the pump, but it makes a channel big enough to swallow Peev and me. The rapids catch us, making me feel like I'm first in line at a water park, as it sweeps us off the platform and across the field. Though I try to keep my eyes open to really see how all this works, rudder rushes in from every direction, and like before, I feel as if I'm turning to liquid too. I'm flopping, bobbing, sailing, fighting for all I'm worth to hold on to Peev's leash. And then, with a giant splash and a muffled thump, I land and Peev tumbles on top of me. Whoa boy, I yell, trying to push his giant hind end off my belly. I settle him next to me and pat his neck, then look up and realize we're sitting in the fountain in the lobby of my apartment building. Oh man, I jump to my feet, thinking about the very universe of trouble I'll be in if Mr. Dobbins, the doorman, spots us. He takes his job very seriously, almost like he built the building himself, and with my dad looking for me like crazy, complaints from mister Dobbins would only make things worse. Come on, Peev, I tug his leash and make him follow me out of the fountain. We squish in puddles toward the elevator, and I push the button all the while staring at the front door and mapping our escape to the stairwell in case Mr. Dobbins looks our way. When the ding sounds, I hold my breath, wait a million seconds for the doors to open, and run us inside. Then I pound the closed door button over and over again, mostly just making myself feel better. I don't breathe again until the elevator starts moving. On our floor, we slosh our way through the hallway, I listen at the door before I put my key in the lock, but everything sounds as quiet as always. I step inside, take off my shoes, and trot Peev and me down the hall and into my bathroom. I dry us both off and change into my bathrobe, one ear tuned for my dad's grumbling and stomping. Nothing happens though, which makes me almost nervous and relieved. What's going on? When I finally tiptoe out and look for him, I find the apartment empty. He's not anywhere, not in his office or his bedroom or even in the shower. My heart starts to gallop a little. He might have been a jerk today, but he's still my dad. I creep into the kitchen, super confused, and I find a note on the counter. I'm in a meeting at my office. Calling police if you're not here when I finish. Phones are meant to be answered, Coral. We'll discuss at dinner. I gulp. Now nervous and relieved for completely different reasons. At least I didn't have to face him when I walked through the door, though I can barely think with the sound of my scared pulse in my ears. An idea does break through, and it feels like a pretty good option. Flipping his note over, I write one of my own. Sorry, Dad, Peev needed another walk and you were busy. Not hungry. See you in the morning. I almost add something about my phone that it was dead or I forgot it, but I just can't make myself to write the lie. After today, I already have a lot to answer for, and way too many secrets. Crossing fingers that my dad will feel as tired as I do by the time he gets home, I grab a bag of chips and a banana and head to my room. All those miles between here and Africa are starting to catch up with me.

SPEAKER_01 39:15

Hi everyone, it's Lucy, and just to recap this past chapter, it starts off with um Coral landing in a new location, and she's kind of confused as to where she is, and she's wandering around, and she asks someone, and she finds out that she's in Africa. And so she's wandering about this village, and it's really opening her eyes. I found it really interesting on the comparisons that she was having between the village and also New York City. That was really interesting to me. But she also meets a girl named Hope, and she they get to talking, and she's about her age, and they realize that they both had this wish for change. And so that they both got gifted these magical boxes. And I just thought it was really cool how they came together, they found each other. And I'm I'm wondering where else that coral is gonna go because if this transported her to Africa, the other locations she's supposed to meet two more girls. Um, and I'm just wondering where those locations might be. But the chapter ends with Coral ending back up in New York City, getting back to her home, and it was all that, but with the help of help, which was really interesting. She started asking questions like, Oh, maybe we should go to the water. That's where you came out of, so maybe you have to go back. And I just thought that was really interesting, and I'm excited for the next few chapters to see where it goes.