The Midnight Market by Beth McMullen

Author:Beth McMullen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2021-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23 THE URBAN JUNGLE

THE PROBLEM WITH GETTING TO New York City is that the tin-can plane is currently unavailable due to the pilot’s mysterious disappearance in Greenland. Moose’s only choice is to drive us there in a rickety minivan with shoddy air-conditioning that is as loud as a jet engine. As you can imagine, this does not make him happy.

“I must have been very bad in a past life,” he mutters, barely audible, to himself. “There is no other explanation. I really have to think about my future.”

It’s 347 miles from Camp Timber Wolf in the Thousand Islands to Grand Central Terminal in New York City. The GPS estimates it will take us seven hours to complete the journey. This is a long time to be squished in a car that smells like bug repellent and sweat. Within the first five miles, Moose points out that showering is not actually complicated. “All you do is stand under the water,” he grumbles. “Maybe you kids should try it sometime.”

In response, we roll down the windows and let in the hot, humid air. Zeus fluffs his feathers in the wind, the parrot version of a dog sticking his head out the window to catch the breeze. The air is tinged with the smell of fertilizer. There are a lot of cows up here in northern New York.

I’d like to say I get right to planning what we will do to find the Midnight Market when we arrive at Grand Central Terminal, because I have all sorts of brilliant ideas floating around in my head that I cannot wait to share. But instead I am lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the road, my late-night clandestine meeting with Lipstick finally catching up with me. Scrunched down in my seat, chin lolling on chest, snoring, drooling, and generally being gross, I nap for at least a hundred miles. My limbs feel loose and twitchy, and I keep snapping my head back to center as it tilts awkwardly to one side. I’m completely uncomfortable, but my body refuses to surface to full consciousness to fix the situation. I’m just too tired.

Hannah’s face is buried in a book while Jin stares out the window at the densely forested scenery outside. New York has a lot of trees to go along with the cows. Zeus, perched on Jin’s shoulder, keeps in character, dramatically rolling his eyes and loudly gagging every half hour so Moose remembers he’s gravely ill. Each time, Jin soothes him and whispers that everything will be okay. Zeus could not be happier.

Eventually, I regain consciousness, yawning so widely my jaw feels like it might unhinge. Outside, there’s a lake every mile. Water, trees, cows. Hannah stares at me over the cover of her novel. “It lives,” she says.

“Barely,” I groan, trying to work out the kink in my neck.

“Are you ready to talk about what we are going to do when we get there?” Hannah asks. Jin turns away from the window. Now they both stare at me.

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