“Fort Orpheus,” read Abby. “I like it.”
“It’s perfect,” I said.
Uncle Joe beamed.
The three of us hung out for the rest of the afternoon, talking about sciency science and whales and Alaska and watching the sun shine down on the waves. Uncle Joe was telling me about the scientists who had stayed in the cabin before him and all the random gear they’d left behind, when Abby, who had run home to feed Samson, came bursting back out of the fort.
“Hey, Joe, cover your ears for a minute, will you?” she said.
Uncle Joe squeezed his eyes shut, put his fingers in his ears, and started humming.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We’ve gotta go,” said Abby. “My dad says dinner’s almost ready.”
“Do we have to?” I wasn’t ready to leave Alaska.
“Obviously. He thinks we’re there anyway. And you know how he is about people being on time for meals. Besides, Tamal’s eating with us tonight, remember?”
“Fine,” I said, dragging myself out of my chair. “What are we having?”
Abby shrugged. “Smelled like lasagna.”
“Ooh, nice!”
I looked over at Uncle Joe, sitting there with his ears plugged and his eyes scrunched tight. He’d probably love some homemade lasagna after his weeks of soup and crackers and not much else. It was a shame he wasn’t coming with us, really.
I bopped him on the arm, and he took his fingers out of his ears.
“We’re, uh, we’re . . . going in the fort now,” I said. “There’s a chance we’ll be . . . making lasagna. Do you want some if we end up having extra?”
Uncle Joe struggled with himself for a moment, then nodded.
“Thanks, Maggie. That’s thoughtful of you. I am getting pretty sick of soup. Though what I really miss up here is fresh green things. You wouldn’t believe how much you can crave fruits and vegetables until you can’t get them.”
“I don’t know about those,” said Abby, “but we can definitely bring you lasagna. We’ll set it outside the fort—”
“So you don’t have to bother trying to fit in there with us,” I finished.
Uncle Joe smiled. “Perfect,” he said. “I’m glad you two kindred spirits are back together. You make a great team.”
Abby threw an arm around my shoulder, catching me by surprise. “Oh, we’re better than great, Joe,” she said, squeezing. “We’re the beluga-bawling best!”
My heart went all splashy. You could have knocked me over with a bubble net.
Five minutes later Abby and I and our freshly washed hands were sitting down to big plates of lasagna and green beans with Alex, the twins, and Tamal, who turned out to be short, muscly, and adorably shy.
“So, what kind of trouble did you two end up getting into today?” asked Alex, passing me a dish and a serving spoon.
Abby and I broke into identical grins.
“That good, huh?” laughed Matt.
“Oh, no. No, it was a pretty normal day,” Abby said airily. “You know, for us.”
I kicked her foot under the table, then looked at the dish I was holding.
I looked down at my plate.
“Um, sorry,” I said. “What am I supposed to do with this, exactly?”
Mark dropped his knife with a clatter. Alex looked shocked.
“You mean you’ve never put guacamole on your lasagna?”
“You poor thing!” said Matt.
“Abby!” said Mark, turning to his sister. “You never told her? And you call yourself a friend.”
“That is enough out of all of you,” Abby said, waving her fork. “Mags, just put it on your lasagna. It’s the best thing ever, promise.”
I did as she said and passed the bowl to Tamal, who leaned in.
“Thank you so much for asking,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what to do with it either.” We clinked forks in solidarity.
“So it was just a normal day, then?” said Alex. “Well, I’ll bet anything you two will make up for it with an epic time at Camp Pillow Fort tomorrow.”
“Oh, wow,” I said around a mouthful of guacamole and lasagna.
“See?!” said Abby and Mark together. I nodded.
“That is incredible,” I said when I could speak again. “What do you call it? Guacasagna? Lasagnole?”
“Ew,” said Mark. Abby snorted.
“We just call it good,” said Alex.
“You really should come over for dinner more often, Maggie,” Matt said. He reached past me for the salt, his arm muscles moving under his sleeve. “You’ve been missing out.”
My stomach lurched like I’d just gone backward through the link to Uncle Joe’s. Yup, I definitely had been.
After dinner Abby and I cleverly volunteered to wash the dishes so we could stash a secret container of leftovers in the back of the fridge, then piled into the living room with the others for back-to-back superhero movies.
When everyone started yawning, Tamal said good night, going around the room awkwardly shaking hands. “Your pillow fort–camp thing sounds fun,” he said when he got to me. “I hope you have some really magical adventures with it this summer.”
Abby started giggling and had to bury her face in a sofa pillow.
“Thank you,” I said, kicking Abby under the blanket. “I think we might.”
We all said good night again. Then the twins started another movie while Alex walked Tamal to his car, and Abby and I headed for bed.
“Are you staying over, Maggie?” asked Alex, poking his head around the bathroom door as Abby and I brushed our teeth.
“Does lasagna taste amazing with guacamole?” I mumbled around my toothbrush.
“Okay, I have absolutely no idea what you just said,” said Alex, “but it sounded like yes. Sleep well, you two. Don’t stay up too late.”
Abby and I waited until the coast was clear, then launched a covert pajama-ops mission to retrieve the leftover lasagna from the fridge and deliver it to Fort Orpheus. It went off without a hitch, and after a quick stop on the way back to officially add Uncle Joe’s fort to our map, we returned, triumphant, to Abby’s bedroom.
“Man, what a day!” Abby said, bounding into bed.
I switched off the overhead light and settled into my spot in the entrance to Fort Comfy, the lamp glowing behind me. Another night or two and this would become routine.
“So,” said Abby, crossing her
