We Are Not Eaten by Yaks

Table of Contents

 

 

 

A division of Penguin Young Readers Group.
Published by The Penguin Group.
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.).
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd).
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd).
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India.
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd).
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.

Copyright © 2011 by C. Alexander London. All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission
in writing from the publisher, Philomel Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group,
345 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014. Philomel Books, Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means
without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized
electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. The publisher does not have any control over and
does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

Published simultaneously in Canada.

 

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-47587-4

“I am averse to writing about adventures, for I dislike them.”

—ROY C. ANDREWS,
Arctic explorer and president of the
Explorers Club from 1931 to 1934

IF YOU DID NOT KNOW
what business took place inside Number Seven East Seventy-fourth Street, you might look up from the sidewalk toward the light flickering in an upper window. You might see two eleven-year-olds pass by that window, their faces pale and thin, with dark circles around their eyes, and you might imagine that they are the lonely and neglected children of wealthy socialites, forever trying to escape from their dull and pointless days.

But you'd be wrong.

Number Seven East Seventy-fourth Street is home to the old and exclusive Explorers Club, which is the most important society of adventurers, explorers, daredevils and globe-trekkers in the world. The two children who sometimes pass by the windows are reluctant residents of the 4½th floor of this club, and it is their story which concerns us here.

Now, most children would love to live on the 4½th floor of the Explorers Club. Most children would thrill to learn the mysteries and secrets shared among the explorers, and most children would love spending every evening hearing tales of danger and distant lands from the adventurers, explorers, daredevils and globe-trekkers who passed through those grand halls.

At least, that's what the adventurers, explorers, daredevils and globe-trekkers kept telling the Navel Twins.

Celia and Oliver Navel, it must be said, are
not
most children. They did not like mysteries or secrets, tales of danger and distant lands, nor did they like adventures or exploring, and certainly they
hated
trekking the globe. While other boys might have turned green with envy because Oliver Navel had celebrated his ninth birthday in a cursed graveyard on the edge of the Sahara Desert, Oliver turned green with a stomachache because of the sweet-and-sour caterpillar cake he was served, which tastes even grosser than it sounds.

And while most girls might have screamed with jealousy that Celia had been given a Mongolian pony for her sixth birthday, Celia could not stand the smell of horses. In fairness, I believe that the horse could not stand the smell of her either. Whatever the case, the horse had to be returned to Mongolia with a formal apology from the Explorers Club, and Celia Navel was banned from ever entering the country, which suited her just fine. She did not like wild animals or exotic places. Nor did her brother.

The Navel Twins liked television.

They liked television more than anything else in the world. They would watch for hours and hours without a break, and it didn't even matter what they were watching as long as the comforting glow of the TV flickered across their eyeballs.

That little box contained worlds! Nature shows gave them nature. Dramas gave them drama. And cartoons about talking llamas gave them talking llamas, which one could hardly find in the “real” world anyway. They never wanted to miss a show for anything as boring as school, or dinner parties or going outside to play, and definitely not for trips to places like Mongolia.

Unfortunately for them, Oliver and Celia lived at the Explorers Club with their parents, Dr. and Dr. Navel. Well, they actually only lived with their father, Dr. Navel, as their mother, Dr. Navel, had gone off to find the Lost Library of Alexandria, which she believed had never been lost, and had, herself, unfortunately been lost in the process. Though a search party searched for her, no trace had yet been found. Two of the explorers sent to find her even disappeared themselves.

Sometimes, when there was nothing to do during commercial breaks for one of their shows, the twins would talk about their mother.

“You ever miss her?” Oliver would ask his sister, popping cheese puffs into his mouth like it was no big deal, but really holding his breath for his sister's answer. Looking at Celia was almost like looking at a picture of his mother. Celia had the same little nose and giant eyes. She had the same pale skin and dark hair. Oliver had a face more like his father's, but his hair and eyes were the exact same as his sister's. Both of them had dark circles under their eyes from staring at the screen all the time.

“It's her own fault,” said Celia. “If she'd just stayed home with us, she'd never have gotten lost.”

“Yeah, but don't you think—”

“Shhh,” Celia cut him off,
“Ten Ton Taco Challenge
is back on.”

Oliver didn't say anything after that, because he loved
Ten Ton Taco Challenge
and because he could tell his sister didn't like talking about their mother. Oliver secretly missed his mother a lot. Celia's secret was that she hated
Ten Ton Taco Challenge
. She was only watching it now because the sound of frying tortillas kept her from thinking about the Saturday morning their mother left.

“Good-bye, Oliver,” she had said. “Good-bye, Celia.” She kissed them each on the forehead.

“Uhuh,” both kids grunted because cartoons were on and they did not appreciate interruptions. It was hours before they even noticed their mother had gone and taken her big backpack with her. She was always going off somewhere. That was the thing with having explorers for parents. They were always coming and going, looking for the Ancient City of This or the Lost Library of That. Oliver and Celia could not have known that that kiss on the forehead was the last time they would see her.

Some kids might have taken a lesson from that, and stopped watching so much television, but not Oliver and Celia. After their mother left, they watched even more. A television could do a lot of what a mom did, anyway, like telling stories and keeping them company when they were lonely. And even better, if they got tired of it, they could just turn it off, which you couldn't do with a mom at all. Of course, they never did get tired of TV. It drove their father crazy.

“Too much television rots your brain!” he complained. He was standing in his usual spot behind the couch with his arms crossed in their usual upset way.

“No,” Celia answered without looking away from the screen. “Mongolian Horse Fever rots your brain.”

Dr. Navel sighed. Celia was right of course. She'd caught Mongolian Horse Fever from that horse he gave her for her sixth birthday. They'd barely gotten her to the hospital in time.