Mysteries in Our National Parks: Over The Edge: A Mystery in Grand Canyon National Park

“Tell me again,” he said, stretching his legs under the seat in front of him.

“Ask my mom.”

“No, I don’t want her to know I wasn’t tracking. So, what’s the deal?”

“Well, like my mom said, the condors are very, very rare. Almost extinct. They used to nest all through the Southwest and the Grand Canyon during the Ice Age, but they disappeared at the end of the Ice Age. Are you listening?”

Morgan’s lids had drifted shut, but he quickly snapped them open. “Yeah. I’m just thinking with my eyes closed.”

“So then the condors made a comeback to the Southwest and the canyon at the same time the white settlers showed up. The settlers hunted and killed the condors. Now there are fewer than 200 of them in the whole world.”

“Right. I remember that part. Aren’t they giant vultures or something? Their wingspan is, like, nine feet wide. Yeah, they’re these huge, extremely ugly birds that eat dead things.”

Jack nodded. “Anyway, they’re dying, and nobody knows how to stop it. So the people at the Grand Canyon called in my mom to help solve the mystery. She’s a wildlife veterinarian, and my dad’s a professional photographer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s life or death for these birds, Morgan. Ask my mom, and she’ll tell you the whole thing. Say you want to know more about the condors, and the hole-in-the-ground stuff will be forgotten. Guaranteed.”

“If I ask her about the birds, do you think she’ll let me use her laptop?”

“No. Maybe. Probably not.” Sighing, Jack said, “Here—take this,” and handed over his own Game Boy and his new game called Alien Child. That did it. As soon as Morgan switched on the Game Boy, something inside him seemed to shut down. He didn’t so much as look out the airplane window for the rest of the flight to Phoenix. He kept playing the game as they stood in line to rent a car and as they drove, grunting a reply when Steven told him they’d just entered Grand Canyon National Park.

While the Landons strained to see even a shadow of what lay beyond the rim, Morgan concentrated on the Game Boy, its greenish light barely illuminating his face, his fingers deftly punching the tiny controls as his eyes stared, unblinking. Jack had never seen anyone so transfixed by something electronic. It was as if Morgan had fused himself into that tiny screen. He found himself agreeing with Ashley: Morgan really was strange.

“Get up, Jack. You said you wanted to see the sunrise hit the walls of the Grand Canyon. It’s time to rise and shine!”

Jack felt a gentle tug on his covers, but he pulled them close and curled into their protective warmth. “Too early,” he muttered to his mother.

Ignoring him, Olivia gave the edge of his bed a playful bounce. “Come on—up and at ’em! You too, Morgan. Throw on some clothes. You can shower when we get back. And Jack, don’t forget your camera. I’m turning on the light right…now!”

“No—” Jack began, but there was a click and a flood of light stabbed his eyes. His mother stood, fully dressed in stonewashed jeans and a hooded jacket. Although wrinkles lined the corners of her eyes when she smiled, Olivia looked young and trim. And full of energy.

Morgan grabbed a pillow and put it over his face. “What time is it?” he asked in a muffled voice.

“Six o’clock.”

“Six?” The pillow flew off his face as he looked at her incredulously. “Six a.m.? No normal human being gets up this early. I’ll stay here while you Earth people go and do whatever homage you tree-hugging types do. I’m a creature of the night. I don’t do mornings.”

“Nice try. We’re doing this as a family, which now includes you.”

“I don’t wish to be included.”

“I’m afraid it’s not a matter of what you wish.” Olivia’s voice had an edge to it, although Morgan didn’t know her well enough to hear it.

Flopping a long, thin arm over his eyes, Morgan looked as though he were trying to block out the light in addition to blocking out Olivia. “Look, I’ve already seen the Grand Canyon. Virtually. I got a view from the comfort of my own computer, which is the perfect way to experience it—no bugs or heat or fatigue. I don’t need the real thing.”

“Let me assure you that there is absolutely no comparison between the two. Reality will always trump the virtual world. Besides that, I’m not leaving until I see you’re truly up.” She stood over him, her arms planted on her hips, until Morgan gave a loud, long sigh.

“Zealot,” he muttered.

“Guilty as charged. And just one more little thing. I want to ask you a favor.”

“Now what?” Morgan asked, his voice squeaking. “I’m already denying my physical body its sleep. What more can I give up?”

Olivia hesitated for only a moment before saying, “I’d like you to leave the Game Boy here while we go to the rim.”

“Aw, man!” Morgan exploded.

“I noticed that you do tend to get a bit—involved—with that thing. You need to experience the Grand Canyon with your whole being.”

Pulling himself to a sitting position, Morgan swung his legs over the side of the bed. A large, white T-shirt hung on him like an oversize shroud, revealing how thin Morgan really was. Elbows protruded in knots from branch-like arms. His chest was sunken, as if he didn’t have enough muscle to hold his body in anything but a pale question mark.

“I don’t believe this! You’re just like the people at Dry Creek. Why can’t I have the freedom to experience the Grand Canyon in my own way?”

Olivia’s lips pressed together before she finally answered, “Humor me. What do you say, Morgan? Will you leave the Game Boy?”

“Sure. Whatever,” he answered.

Olivia looked both surprised and pleased. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry. And now for you, my son,” she began, turning her gaze on Jack. “I see you’re still in bed. We’ll miss the sunrise—”

“OK, OK,” Jack moaned. “Go back in your room so we can get dressed.”

Stretching muscles that had stiffened from hours of travel, Jack waited for the door to shut behind Olivia. Once again, his parents were in an adjoining room with Ashley, while he and a foster kid—this time Morgan—shared the connecting space. The room at Yavapai Lodge looked clean and homey, but not fancy.

“It was nice of you to agree about the Game Boy, Morgan. How far did you get on the new game?”

“Man, I totally conquered it, but it’s a game for eight-year-olds or computer cretins. I’m just using it as a crutch until I can get my hands on a real computer.”

“There’s some good stuff on Game Boy,” Jack answered lamely, embarrassed that Morgan thought his games were childish.

“If you think that stuff is good, it’s only because you don’t know any better. Haven’t you ever been on the Internet?”

“Sure. For school reports and stuff. I e-mailed a guy in Spain and a girl in Ireland for a class project.”

“That means you, my man, need to see what a real game is all about.” As Jack hurriedly pulled on his clothes Morgan kept talking, never pausing, as if he’d been charged with a new mission. “You get me your mother’s laptop, and I’ll show you graphics that’ll blow your mind! There’s a universe you’ve never experienced, an Internet cosmos where there are no rules, no boundaries. It’s time you got out of your computer kindergarten and joined the cyberworld!”

“But, there’s a lot of bad stuff on the Net. I don’t want my mom’s laptop to catch a virus or something.”

Morgan quickly pushed his hair back off his face and trained his eyes on Jack. “Every year, people fall over the edge of the Grand Canyon. They die. You wouldn’t want to miss seeing the scenery outside because there’s an infinitesimal chance you could fall over the edge, right? It’s the same with the Web—you factor in risk and go on.” Sitting on the end of the bed, elbows drilling his knees, he said, “How would you like to see graphics so real they singe your hair, chat with your favorite rock star, or burn a disk of the hottest music for free?”

“Cool,” Jack breathed.

“It’s beyond cool. But you’ve got to grow up, my man. You go do the nature thing, and after you come back, I’ll lead you into my world.”

Jack could feel the roughness of the carpet beneath his feet as he pulled on his socks. “What do you mean? Aren’t you coming?”

“I changed my mind. I never go anywhere I don’t want to.”

Morgan was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Behold the master!” Morgan said, dropping back onto his bed.

Steven called in, “You guys ready?”

As if by magic, Morgan’s expression dissolved into one of distress as he lay back, his head drooping to one side. In a weak voice, he said, “Mr. Landon, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Steven hurried inside, concern creasing his face. “Are you OK?”

“I feel like I’m going to puke. I think it’s all the travel, not to mention the emotion, you know? I’m wiped. I need to stay here until my stomach calms down.” A beat later, Morgan begged, “Please?”

Steven hesitated, glancing into his own room, then back to Morgan.

“Sure. Go ahead and rest. We’ll be back in about an hour.”

When the door closed, Morgan punched his fist triumphantly. “I rule!” he said.

All Jack could do was agree.

CHAPTER THREE

As they walked through the parking lot of Yavapai Point, Jack’s thoughts turned from his guilt over letting Morgan manipulate his dad to pure anticipation of what lay ahead. The sky was lightening in the east, sending out delicate rays, burning the tips of the piñon pines until they looked as if they were on fire. The air itself seemed touched with gold. A walk-way arced from the parking lot toward a small building; next to it were more pines, more slices of sky touching distant mountaintops, and yet, with less than a hundred yards to go, the view of the canyon itself eluded him.

“I can’t believe we’re this close, and we still can’t see it,” Ashley said, straining onto the tips of her toes. “I read that in some spots you can almost walk right to the edge before you realize you’re on the rim.”

Hoisting a backpack bristling with camera equipment onto his shoulders, Steven told her, “Just a little farther. We’ve got to go right past this building and then….”

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. In front of all of them loomed a vision that Jack could hardly believe, a vast space so incomprehensible it seemed to stretch across time itself. Golden-red rock descended in massive sheer-faced walls, ending in a tiny ribbon of water, a winding thread of silver that was the Colorado River. Shadows, ranging from brown to bluish-black, traced patterns against the enormous walls as if brushed by a painter’s hand, the dark and light composing shapes that were alive and ever-changing and incomprehensibly beautiful. But it was the expanse between the canyon walls that took Jack’s breath away. He was suddenly small, a tiny speck of matter on Earth, no bigger than a grain of sand and no more permanent than a snowflake. He stood with his family, perfectly still, taking in what he could in the silence. It was a good feeling, realizing where he fit. Everything seemed dwarfed here. He couldn’t move his eyes from the enormity of the canyon, not even to take a picture.

“It’s—it’s….” Olivia stopped, shaking her head in wonder.

“I’ve seen pictures,” Ashley whispered. “But they can’t even begin to capture it. It’s so much bigger. It’s so much more beautiful.”

Reverent, Steven said, “Nothing could capture this canyon’s spirit. I’m almost ashamed to even try putting it into photographs. The Native Americans called it Mountain Lying on its Back. It really is the mirror image of a mountain. Incredible.”

“I wish we had hours to stand on this spot and drink in all this beauty,” Olivia told them, “but I’m suppose to be at The Peregrine Fund field office at ten o’clock, and it’s an hour-and-a-half drive. We need to get Morgan, grab a bite of breakfast, and take off.”

“Where is the field office?” Jack asked.

“A place called Vermilion Cliffs. If all goes well, we might even get to see a condor!”

“There they are,” Steven announced. “The Vermilion Cliffs. Wow, what a view! Let’s stop for a minute so I can grab a few shots.”

The second he pulled the rental car to a stop at the side of the two-lane highway, all four doors swung open and all four Landons jumped out, Steven and Olivia from the front, Jack and Ashley from the back. Morgan remained in the middle of the backseat, where he’d sat like a stone for the whole hour-and-a-half ride from the Grand Canyon. As an act of defiance, he’d brought the Game Boy, but if it bothered Olivia, she didn’t let it show. She kept speaking to Morgan in a pleasant, brittle way that to Jack sounded strangely unlike his mother. It was a tone she’d adopted after their encounter two hours earlier when the four Landons had returned from the Grand Canyon rim to Yavapai Lodge.

With the room’s thick curtains drawn tight against the sun, Morgan was sitting hunched over the Game Boy. He quickly looked up and said to Olivia, “You told me not to take it to the rim. You didn’t say anything about not playing it here.”

Dryly, Olivia said, “It seems your upset stomach has miraculously healed itself. That’s fine, because we’re going to get some breakfast and then start out for—”

“Oh no,” Morgan said, clutching his middle. “I’m still too sick to go anywhere. I better talk to Mr. Landon.”

Olivia shook her head. “That won’t work this time. We’re all going, including you. Grab your things.”

And now, at the Vermilion Cliffs, Steven was attempting to draw Morgan out of the car, waving through the car window. “Hey, Morgan, wait’ll you see this view of the cliffs! Come on, it’s spectacular!”

“No thank you,” Morgan answered as he deftly punched miniature Game Boy keys.

Olivia put her hand lightly on Steven’s back, touching him where his shoulder blade protruded. “Leave him be,” she said softly. “If he wants to ignore all this, he’s only hurting himself.”

“Exactly. That’s why we shouldn’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m just not being taken in the way you seem to be.”

“He’s a troubled kid,” Steven answered evenly, “but those are exactly the ones who need our help. It isn’t like you to get rattled.” He gave her a quick, sideways hug that tucked Olivia beneath his lanky arm. “Give him another chance—he’ll warm up.”

“I hope you’re right,” she murmured. “There’s something about that boy that rubs me the wrong way.”

“You worry about the condors, and I’ll handle Morgan. Deal?”

“Deal,” Olivia said.

Jack knew he’d better hurry if he was going to capture a perfect shot. The morning sun cast shadows that outlined every crevice in the mesa-topped range. Compared to the mile-high cliffs of the Grand Canyon, the Vermilion Cliffs were dwarfs, and the shape of them wasn’t outstanding in this land of rugged peaks, pinnacles and crags, domes and forested ridges. But the colors! While other rock masses stood out in bold orange-reds, the reds of the Vermilion Cliffs had a bluish tinge. The blue-reds were layered in horizontal stripes by pale sedimentary rock left behind by ancient oceans. No wonder Native Americans called cliffs like these Land of the Sleeping Rainbow.

“Hey, where are the condors?” Ashley exclaimed, scanning the sky while shielding her eyes from the sun. “I thought you said they lived here.”

“Ashley, it would be a minor miracle if you spotted a condor. Right now there’s only one of them still out there in the wild. Come on, we’ve got to get to the field office.” Olivia started the engine while Jack and Ashley piled once more into the backseat. Steven took the map and checked the route.

“Wait—I think this is it,” Steven finally said. “The town of Vermilion Cliffs, christened after the cliffs of the same name.”

Morgan, finally looking up, muttered, “This is supposed to be a town? Jeez, it’s even smaller than Dry Creek! How many people live here?”

“About 30, I think,” Olivia answered. “And six of them work for the condor program.”

The town of Vermilion Cliffs consisted of a flat-roofed stone lodge with a neon “‘Vacancy” sign flashing; a fly-fishing shop; a couple of little trailers; and around the back of a loop from the highway, a double trailer. They parked next to the double trailer. A placard identified it as The Peregrine Fund California Condor Project.

At the door, they were met by Shawn, the research project’s chief biologist. Shawn had a beard that matched his hair, the same reddish brown they’d seen in their drive across the Painted Desert. Protective coloration, Jack thought, grinning to himself. Shawn would blend right in with the landscape. Tall and wiry, he must have been pretty tough—Olivia had said that every few days, Shawn strapped on a makeshift backpack and hiked two miles to deliver a 50-pound dead dairy calf to the hungry condors. When Olivia told them that, Steven had joked, “So all Shawn’s baggage must be carry-on.”

Jack laughed, but Ashley just looked puzzled.

Morgan snorted. “Carry-on. A pun on carrion, which is what condors eat. Dead animals are called carrion. Jeez, Ashley, what grade are you in?”

“Why don’t you go flame yourself,” she answered in a fake sweet voice.

Now Shawn greeted them with, “Hi. I guess you’re Olivia and Steven Landon. I’m Shawn.”

Olivia introduced Jack and Ashley, who shook hands with Shawn, and then Morgan, who kept his hands behind his back.

Getting right to the point, Olivia said, “The most puzzling part of all about this problem with the condors is the lead pellets. The report here says that they’re all different sizes. Is that correct?”

Shawn nodded. “We have no clue about where these are coming from. It’s pretty weird.”

“Could we see the x-rays that show the lead pellets? Do you keep them here?” Olivia asked.

“Yes. In the back. Follow me.”

Morgan said nothing, yet Jack had the sense that Morgan was pretty interested in what was happening, and Ashley noticed it, too. “Morgan likes anything to do with death,” she whispered.

Jack told her to hush, glancing quickly at Morgan to see if he’d heard, but his face had closed off in a way that Jack couldn’t read.

The six of them crowded into a small room while Shawn held up the first x-ray in front of a light screen. It felt strange to look at the insides of a big bird. When he was seven, Jack had seen an x-ray of his own broken arm, but this x-ray looked like a turkey carcass after the Landons had demolished it on Thanksgiving. Seven lead pellets inside the condor’s intestinal tract stood out in bright white in the dark x-ray, like a constellation of stars on a cloudy night. A second x-ray film showed five pellets. “See, the pellets are different sizes,” Shawn said, pointing.

“Maybe they got melted down during the condor’s digestion,” Ashley suggested, “and some just got digested more than others.”

Jack gave Ashley an elbow in the ribs for saying something so unscientific, but Shawn answered, “Actually, they do erode when they get digested.”

Ashley jabbed Jack with a triumphant return elbow.

“Which is why we try to get the pellets out as soon as possible—sometimes by tube, sometimes by surgery. We move fast so the lead won’t get into the bloodstream. But we don’t think digestion is the reason for the difference in pellet size. That part’s a mystery. We think it’s a key to finding the source of the lead, but….” He scratched at his beard. “Like I said, no one has a clue what it all means.”

“Could you please explain why the pellet size is so important?” Steven asked.

“Because we think these birds are all being poisoned from the same source—from a single kill. There are three distinct pellet sizes in all of the intestinal tracts. Although it’s possible that these pellets all came from one gun, it is also conceivable that the kill was shot at by at least three different guns. So, whatever animal was killed had to be big—big enough for a group of condors to feed on, anyway.”

“Except there’s a problem with your theory,” Morgan broke in. “Nobody shoots big game with a shotgun.” When they all looked at him, he said, “I have an online friend named Snipe. I’ve learned about guns. Anything large is taken out with a rifle.”

“Snipe?” Ashley mouthed to Jack, but Jack shook his head at her.

“You’re absolutely right about that, Morgan,” Shawn agreed. “It doesn’t make sense that one large animal was killed with a bunch of shotguns and left to rot. Shotguns are normally used for birds—duck hunting, that sort of thing. But a group of condors are not going to feed on a single dead duck, so that’s not the answer.” He sighed a long sigh as though he’d gone over every possibility.

Ashley’s hand darted up with anticipation. “Oh, I have an idea! Couldn’t one shell be filled up with those different-size pellets?”

“No way,” Morgan answered. “You can’t mix pellets together in one shell, or the gun will blow up in your hand.” When they all looked at him, he said, “What?”

“Your friend Snipe sure taught you a lot about guns,” Ashley stated.

Morgan’s eyebrows moved up. “Your point is…?”

“Let’s get back to what we know. What’s the largest number of pellets any condor has ingested so far?” Olivia asked.

Shawn answered without missing a beat. “Seventeen.”

“Seventeen!” Olivia gasped. “That’s a lot of lead!”

“Right. Unfortunately, we didn’t find the pellets until after the bird was dead.” Shawn went on to tell them about a condor called 65—none of the condors had names, only numbers.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.