Kalahari by Jessica Khoury

Author:Jessica Khoury [Khoury, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2015-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

The ring wasn’t as good as a knife, but I was able to gouge a notch about the size of a fingertip in one of the sticks. I laid it over a bundle of dry, fine grass and held it down with one knee. I held the other stick, its tip sharpened with the ring, between my palms. The pointy end went into the notch, along with a few grains of Kalahari sand. I rubbed my hands quickly back and forth, my tongue sticking out slightly the way it always does when I’m concentrating. It took several minutes, but eventually the sticks began to smoke, and a tiny red ember tumbled into the grass. Immediately I set the sticks aside and lifted the bundle of grass, blowing gently on the ember. It seemed to die for a moment, but I kept breathing on it, slow and steady, and then all at once a flame flared up. I dropped the burning grass and began feeding it with smaller sticks.

“Well. That was cool,” said Sam.

Joey looked equally impressed. “I gotta try it.”

I handed him the sticks.

He spent the next hour trying to start a fire, before at last giving up. His hands were raw and blistered, and he scowled when I asked what went wrong. By then, it was dark enough that we couldn’t see anything outside the fire’s glow, and Kase and Miranda rejoined us, but Miranda wouldn’t look at anyone.

Sam was gazing at Miranda thoughtfully. After a minute, he stared into the fire and said, “My mom’s in prison.”

She didn’t look up, but I saw her eyebrows rise.

“Been in and out for ten years for drugs,” Sam said. He prodded the fire with a stick. Embers stirred and broke apart, sending up a shower of sparks that reflected in his eyes. “Me and my brother grew up in foster homes since I was five. Never stayed in one town more than a year.” He settled back and kept staring at the flames. “When Adam turned eighteen he became my legal guardian, and we lived in Pittsburgh for a while. Till he joined the military, anyway.” His face was set in hard lines; the firelight made him look older, sharper. “He was killed by a sniper in Baghdad last year.”

“Sorry, bro,” said Joey, looking as serious as I’d ever seen him. His knees were drawn up and his hands dangled between them, his fingers absently working a piece of grass. “My grandma died when I was seven. She raised me, practically, while my parents worked. You never really get over it, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, and his eyes flickered to me.

I looked at the fire, my chest aching. Mom. Theo. Maybe Dad too. The others could talk about their loved ones, but not me—it was too soon. It was too close, their faces still too fresh in my mind.

“My dad made me come on this trip,” said Joey. He stuck the grass between his teeth, then flopped onto his back, his arms stretched wide.

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