Over the Edge by Gloria Skurzynski Page A

the cell phone, Morgan asked Jack, “How does your dad feel when people make so much fuss over your mother?”
    â€œWhat do you mean? He feels fine about it. Why wouldn’t he?”
    Morgan shrugged. “I dunno. I was just thinking about my own parents. In my house, my dad’s the total boss. Like, if our family had taken in a foster kid, there’d be no way my dad would let my mom throw the kid out. But I guess your mom’s the one who rules the Landon family, right? What she says goes.”
    â€œMy mom is not going to throw you out, Morgan. Not if you act decent, anyway. Why were you so obnoxious when she was trying to talk to you in the car?”
    â€œI have a long cool-down period when I’m mad. Did you know your mom said she wanted me to leave?”
    â€œNo. Well—yeah,” Jack admitted.
    Again, Morgan raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “So I get sent back like defective software. Only it’s not going to happen. I’m not going to just sit back and get sent to detention.”
    What’s that supposed to mean? Jack wondered. He was about to ask when Ashley raised her finger to her lips. “Shhh, they’re putting Mom on camera now.”
    With his aspiring-photographer’s eye, Jack glanced at the cliffs to check the scene where his mother was going to stand, with her back to the canyon, facing the cameras. It seemed a perfect background—red-orange vertical fractures and pinnacles in the Kaibab limestone along the rim, green trees whose roots would eventually crumble part of the rocks, ravens winging overhead. The vivid blue sky framed Olivia’s dark hair as it ruffled in the breeze; the same breeze lifted the rust-colored silk scarf she’d slung around her neck. Wearing a black leather belted jacket over stonewashed jeans, she seemed almost too young to have a teenage son. Jack felt a swelling of pride. Not only had the park turned to his mother for answers on the condor mystery, but the whole nation was listening to what she had to say.
    â€œThree, two, one,” a cameraman said, counting down with his fingers before pointing at Olivia. As the cameramen started to roll their film, the trench coat lady spoke into the microphone. “This is Claudia Franklin, here on the rim of the magnificent Grand Canyon. Next to me is Dr. Olivia Landon, wildlife veterinarian and specialist in endangered species. Dr. Landon, you’ve been telling me about a serious problem with the condors. Could you give us more details about this lead poisoning that threatens them?”
    Looking relaxed, with her hands in her pockets, Olivia answered, “I’d be happy to, Claudia. There was a time when these big, graceful birds soared all over the Southwest. Then in the 1800s settlers moved West, and the condors suffered. By the 1980s, there were fewer than 30 California condors in the world.”
    â€œWhat caused the decline?” Claudia asked.
    â€œOh, shootings, electrocution from power lines, poisoning, attacks by golden eagles. Also, condors don’t reproduce very fast. Mature females may lay only one egg every two years. The number of captive birds, the ones in zoos, became fairly stable, but condors in the wild became more and more scarce. In 1987, the last one was removed from the wild and placed in captivity.”
    Not waiting for Claudia to ask another question, Olivia continued, “Then the captive-breeding program in zoos began to produce enough condors that scientists decided to reintroduce some of them into the wild—in California and north of here at the Vermilion Cliffs. Those condors did well, until—”
    â€œWhat happened?” Claudia asked, right on cue.
    â€œThey began to sicken and die. From lead poisoning. Condors feed on carrion—dead animals. If condors eat a carcass shot with lead pellets and they ingest the lead, it can kill them. Has killed at least five of them in the past few months, and maybe