CHAPTER NINETEEN
The girls had brought Taylor into her hut and placed her on the palm fronds like a sleeping princess. Taylor had been vaguely aware of the movement, but her mind was too confused to speak. She woke from her fever dream sometime in early morning. She’d gathered a few supplies and stolen away to a remote part of the jungle where she could be safe. It was so hard to feel safe in the world when you were a girl. But this place was good. It was a small cave hidden in the leafy growth of a mountain not far from a freshwater lagoon. And there were unicorns with rainbow-sparkle tails. Sometimes the unicorns spoke to her, and that was a little disconcerting. But then she would tell them to go off and work on their step-ball-change for the opening number and they did.
Now she was alone. She was alone like when her mother left and the world became a frightening place. When she’d had to build the sculpture to feel safe. But Taylor had proof that her fears were real. She’d seen what they were doing. She put her head down on her knees and began to cry.
“Tay-Tay, why is my pretty girl so sad?”
Taylor lifted her head. Through the haze of tears she saw her mother, resplendent in a bright yellow evening gown and surrounded by a silvery glow. “Mama? You’re here?”
“Yes, I am, Taylor. I’m here to help you.”
In the flickering glow, Taylor’s mother looked just like she had when Taylor was six, but this mom wasn’t crying at a sink full of dirty dishes. “Something’s wrong, Mama. I can’t make my head work right.”
Her mother sat beside her and offered her a section of orange, which Taylor couldn’t be certain she was eating. “Why did you leave?” Taylor said.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know it was okay not to be perfect.” Her mother tucked Taylor’s hair behind her ear softly. “You’re not like me, Taylor. You’re a fighter. Who’s no quitter?”
“Me.”
“That’s right. Taylor Rene Krystal Hawkins. Miss Texas.” Her mom tapped her nose gently with her finger. Outlined by the fertile greenery, she was like an exotic plant. “Life can be ugly, Taylor. That’s why it’s so important to keep things pretty. And we are going to keep things pretty, aren’t we?”
“Yes. We are.”
Taylor’s mother was no longer there. “Mama?” Taylor whispered urgently. Sweat beaded on her skin and ran down her arms. A snake hissed from a tree. And Taylor was afraid. In the jungle, she heard the creak of branches breaking, the squawk of a walkie-talkie. She hid behind a bush and watched the man with the earpiece and the AK-47. In his left hand was a cell phone, which struck Taylor as odd, but she tried to keep her focus. That was what made winners — focus. Not getting distracted by the little things. The man wore a black shirt like the others she’d taken out, five by her last count. The walkie-talkie squawked with a voice, and the man in the black shirt answered. “Nope. Haven’t found her yet.”
Hidden by the thick vegetation, Taylor watched the man carefully. It was hard because sometimes things didn’t look right to her anymore. She could see smells and smell colors and it was all just a little fantastical. She couldn’t even be sure of this man. She needed to be sure, though, and so she risked stepping out from the bush.
“Well, I’ll be,” the man said, smiling. “Come on out. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help you.”
For a moment, her mind slipped sideways again, and she imagined he was her daddy coming to offer her a hand out of her stuffed-animal cave after her mother left. “Come on, baby. Come on out,” her dad had said. The light from her bedroom window had fuzzed the top of his buzz cut like a dandelion.
“No,” Taylor had said. And then she’d started crying. “What did I do to make Mommy leave?”
“You didn’t do anything. This isn’t your fault.”
“Then why?” she’d wailed.
“I don’t know,” her daddy had said, and he looked so sad.
“It isn’t fair!”
“No, it isn’t, baby. Not by a mile. The world’s only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your little cave, that’s one less fighter on the side of fair.”
He’d let her be, but every morning, he’d put down a tray with French toast, her favorite. It was brown around the edges and squishy in the middle, just the way she liked it. And eventually, she’d come out. When she was good and ready.
Focus, Miss Texas. Taylor forced herself to look again and concentrate. This man offering his hand was not her father or anyone like him. In this man’s smile was all the unfairness of the world in its thuggish seduction. “Just come with me. We’ll take care of you.”
“No, you won’t.” Taylor stroked the man’s cheek. She reached her arms up to cradle the back of his head and, with the skill of a champion, she broke his neck. Then she dragged him into the bushes, took his gun and walkie-talkie, and kept moving.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What is she doing?” Adina asked.
It had taken two days, but the girls had found Taylor’s hiding place deep in the jungle and had gathered to watch her. She looked rough. Her normally smooth blond hair was a matted tangle. She’d camouflaged her face and arms with dirt like a soldier in a war movie. The white dress she’d taken the care to wash out every day was ragged.
“I can’t believe she ate that psycho-fruit. It’s like she was trying to kill herself or something,” Mary Lou said.
“It’s weird,” Adina said. “That’s just not something I could remotely imagine Taylor doing.”
“She was pretty upset about not getting rescued,” Jennifer said.
The girls kept a safe distance, crouched low behind the cover of plants as they watched Taylor work. For days she’d been sneaking into the camp and stealing random items — eyelash curlers, a hair dryer, earrings, stockings. It wasn’t like they needed them here, but why did she? Only Mary Lou had worked up the courage to approach Taylor’s XL Crazy. “What do you need those for, Taylor?” she’d asked, and Taylor had done a little circle-turn and half a jig punctuated with jujitsu moves.
“If chosen as Miss Teen Dream, I will not let the bad people mess with our pretty. Their outfits are wrong. They’re not good people. Tonight on Patriot Daughters!”
“It’s like she’s some freaky pageant robot that went haywire,” Mary Lou said. “Also, she licked a tube of mascara.”
“Don’t use that now,” Brittani said. “You’ll get eye herpes.”
“Boy, I hate eye herpes,” Tiara agreed. Beside her, Nicole pretended to write something on imaginary paper, which she tore off and handed to Tiara. “What are you doing, Nicole?”
“Writing you a prescription to come talk to me.”
“Can you do that if you’re not a real doctor?”
“Sure,” Miss Ohio said. “I found a guy on the Internet to write me a prescription for horse diet pills.”
“Horse diet pills?” Nicole repeated.
“Yeah. They worked great, but my mom made me stop when I grew an extra set of teeth inside my large intestine.”
Petra stuck her fingers in her ears. “La-la-la-la-la.”
“What’s she wearing?” Sosie signed.
Around her dress, Taylor had constructed a makeshift bandolier out of airplane seat belts, a pink unicorn wallet, and a tampon carrying case.
“That girl is serious about her feminine hygiene,” Shanti said.
“Should we tackle her, bring her back?” Jennifer asked.
Shanti shook her head. “No way. She’ll cut a bitch. Even hopped up on crazy juice.”
“I don’t understand — you guys ate those berries and you’re fine,” Adina said. “It wore off in a few hours. I wonder how come it’s not wearing off for Taylor.”
“Her bitch cells are binding to the proteins,” Petra murmured.
“Shh, she’s coming closer,” Shanti whispered.
Out of sticks, palm fronds, salvaged shoes, glittery jewelry, two suitcase wheels, and evening gown scraps, Taylor had built a found-object beauty queen sculpture upon which she placed a scrawled sign for a sash. The sash read Miss Miss, making it seem as if the sculpture were just off. Taylor talked to the figure. She called it Ladybird and seemed to be waiting for its approval.
“What is that thing? It looks like the most busted beauty queen ever,” Nicole whispered, and no one was sure which one she meant.
“I thought it was a g*y bunny,” Tiara said.
“Ladybird, watch this!” Taylor executed three backflips, ending in a machine-gun stance.
“Okay, that’s not disturbing at all,” Shanti said.
“She could probably sell that at MOMA for a fortune,” Petra said appreciatively.
Taylor tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Yes, Ladybird. You have to put your heart, soul, and sparkle into it. It is a total commitment to the sparkle.”
“She really has lost it,” Adina murmured.
Taylor stopped, suddenly alert. She scrambled up the tree and disappeared.
“O-kaaay,” Nicole said. “What’s next?”
“Do you hear something?”
The girls listened, but in the constant burble of jungle noises, it was hard to hear anything unusual. It was only when the enormous snake dropped down from the tree that they realized the sound was a hiss.
“What is that?” Mary Lou whispered.
“Big snake thingy?” Tiara offered.
“Thanks. I hadn’t figured that out yet.”
“Don’t move.” Jennifer instructed.
“Does ‘don’t move’ include your bowels? Because you’re too late,” Miss New Mexico said.
With a piercing scream, Taylor jumped forward, circling the blow dryer over her head by its cord. She let it fly and smacked the snake across the tail. It turned with a fierce roar.