Yam screamed again. Mor thought the sound was coming from the treetop and wondered if his invisibility wasn’t a sudden blessing in disguise.
A group of apes was playing in the treetop. Mor looked at them in fear: the smallest was at least twice his own size. From below, he couldn’t see exactly what was happening among the entwined branches. Looking around for good vantage point, he selected a small but very full tree located a safe distance from the apes, though close enough to let him observe. He began climbing. He’d almost reached the top when Yam screamed a third time. The terror in his voice made Mor shiver. One of the apes shook Yam with ease and tossed him forward. Mor stopped breathing. Two mocking apes on one of the lower branches caught Yam at the last second and shrieked with pleasure. Mor exhaled, grateful for the fruit he’d eaten. What Yam was experiencing didn’t look fun at all. He took out a rope, tied himself to the trunk, and carefully started climbing toward the treetop.
The bogo chased a half-black, half-white swan, trampling the sand-castle Rae had just finished building. Anise paced along the shore, needing some alone time. So many bad things had happened over the last few days that even now, here, in this wondrous place, walking barefoot on the warm, white sand, everything seemed like a dream.
She looked at the two suns in the sky. One almost touched the water, while half of the other was already below the waves, each casting light in different colors. The view was heart-stopping.
Anise walked along the waterline, enjoying the sensation of the cool water on her feet. She knelt to pick up a turquoise seashell, putting it in her pocket as a souvenir, and sat down to watch the rest of the sunset. To her astonishment, through the waves breaking on the shore in white foam, she thought she saw an old Native American. His face was deeply furrowed and his long white hair was braided with colorful threads. He looked straight at her, and in his eyes, Anise could see all of history since the beginning of time. Just then, Rae called her name. Anise turned her head away for just an instant, but when she looked back at the sea, the old man was no longer there. Anise decided she’d either imagined the old man’s presence or been daydreaming.
Mor selected a thick branch and carefully scooted down its length. The enormous ape continued to shake Yam wildly as if he were nothing but a feather. With a loud shriek, a vulture swooped down from the sky, causing the apes to yell and let go of Yam as they scattered in fear.
Yam started to fall. “Grab a branch!” Mor yelled at him, heaving a sigh of relief when he saw one of Yam’s legs catch in the thick vegetation several feet below. The fall was stopped, but Yam was suspended by one leg, swaying back and forth, his head pointing straight down.
The branch Mor was crawling on groaned under his weight, but Mor ignored the sound, intent on reaching the end. “Catch,” he yelled to Mor while throwing him the end of the rope.
Yam tried to swing his body and catch the rope, but his movement caused his leg to start sliding out of the thicket. Mor quickly pulled the rope back, took better aim, and quickly threw it to Yam again. Just then, a sound like a detonation was heard as his own branch broke. Concentrating his effort, Mor managed to pull himself upward.
Mor wouldn’t give up. Now he moved swiftly from one branch to another, trying to get as close as possible to the upside-down Yam. “We don’t have a lot of time! Your branch won’t hold,” Mor yelled to his friend. “You have to untangle your leg.”
He tied the rope around Yam. “I’m holding you,” he said in the calmest voice he could summon. Yam, confused, looked at Mor, reminding Mor that his body had vanished and that Yam could only see his head. “I’ll explain later,” he yelled with his last bit of strength.
Yanking his leg out of the tree, Yam tumbled several feet downwards, until he was stopped by the rope. Now all of Yam’s weight was on Mor, whose hand grew red with the effort to continue holding the rope. The branch he was on began bowing, Mor lost his balance, and both boys started to fall.
Fortunately for them, the branches were so overgrown that their rapid fall was stopped. Instead of thumping to the ground, they slowly slid from branch to branch, only to be caught by the growth again. Mor managed to tie the rope to the trunk and, with its help, pulled Yam upwards.
Yam sat down next to Mor on the sturdy branch. His hair was full of leaves and he was breathing heavily. “Am I hallucinating, or am I seeing only your face?” was Yam’s first question after he’d managed to still his breath enough to speak.
“It’s all because of some fruit I ate,” Mor smiled.
“You saved my life,” said Yam, totally seriously. “Thanks, dude.”
Both boys lapsed into silence, which Mor finally broke. “You know that she’s going to have to choose between us sooner or later, but that doesn’t have to mess up our friendship.”
Yam nodded. He knew that, regardless of Anise, Mor was the best friend he’d ever had. He felt around in the air until his hand touched Mor’s shoulder, which he clapped. “Obviously,” he said, “assuming that at some point I’m going to be able to see you.”
“Hey, where’s the rest of your body?” Anise asked, frightened by Mor’s head that seemed to be floating toward her through the air.
Rae rolled with laughter.
