BAD MOJO by Eva Blackstone

Author:Eva Blackstone [Blackstone, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, childrens, ebook, EPUB, social issues, Hurrican Katrina, foster care, runaways
ISBN: 9780996332507
Publisher: Mollusc Bay Books, an imprint of Slug Pie Stories, LLC
Published: 2015-09-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

A Dog by Any Other Name

Mist clung to the ground, wicking through his jeans up to the knees and soaking through his shoes. At least the trees shielded them from the rain. Only the occasional plop found Bobby’s face. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Near Memphis,” Flyn said.

“I figured. But where?”

“How am I supposed to know?” she snapped at him.

Genius stopped, leaned against a tree, and pulled out his pad and pen. He wrote while Flyn and Bobby watched.

“We’re in Memphis. When we get to the other side of these trees we need to make a left,” Genius’s note said.

“How can he know? How do you know?” Bobby said.

Genius pulled a plastic spiraled booklet out of his pack and handed it to Bobby. Then he unstrapped his watch and handed it to Flyn.

Bobby read the cover of the booklet. “‘AAA TripTik: St. Louis to New Orleans.’ Okay, so you got directions. How’s the watch help?”

“It’s not a watch.” Flyn dangled the strap in front of him. The arrow on the compass trembled.

“You’re a regular Boy Scout, aren’t you?” He had to admit, without Genius he and Flyn would be lost, literally.

“Can we get to where we need to go and not stop for explaining every ten seconds?” Flyn said.

“What’s with her?”

Genius jotted another note. “She’s mad you interfered on the bus.”

“Really?” He turned to Flyn. “You’re mad at me?”

“Why do you have to act like such an idiot?”

“They were hassling you. That tongue-waggling guy was all over you. They could’ve hurt you.”

“Well they didn’t hurt me. And they weren’t going to, either. They were just being jerks. They would’ve moved on. But you. You and your crazy need to save everybody. Read my lips: I. Don’t. Need. Saving. Jeesh.” She flung her arms and water sprayed from her clothes at them. “Who picks a fight and crashes a bus, anyway? Then you gotta run back and save that old lady and risk us all getting caught and sent to juvie. Give me my backpack.”

“What?”

“Switch back. I’ll keep track of my own stuff.” She tossed him his backpack. “Come on.”

When he tossed her stuff, her backpack made a horrible wet squelch upon hitting the ground.

“Great.”

She drew out her box of tarot cards, and the cardboard nearly disintegrated in her hands. “Just great.” She separated what was left of the box from the cards, and Genius handed her a shoelace from his own pack to tie around them before she slipped them into her shorts pocket.

While Bobby and Genius trudged through the wet woods in silence, Flyn managed to find every fallen branch longing to be snapped in two by someone’s foot and every pile of damp leaves begging to be shuffled and kicked.

“It’s a good thing no one’s following us.” Bobby looked back at Flyn, whose foot was hovered over a pile of sticks. “They’d know exactly where to find us,” he said as Flyn’s foot came down with a crunch. “Would it help if I said I was sorry? ’Cause I am.

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