The Carbon Diaries 2015 by Saci Lloyd

Author:Saci Lloyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2008-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

Fri., July 3

Last day of school.

Mum called this morning.

“Hello, darling, it’s me.”

“Where are you?”

There was a scuffling sound followed by that old-fashioned phone booth pips noise.

“Mum?”

“Got to go, no more money, all’s well, back Sunday—”

Where still has those old red phone booths? Outer Space?

Just downloaded the new hydro release, deathscum. It rocks.

Sat., July 4

Living chicken torture. Plus it’s so hot. I got so angry trying to find a cool place on the bed that in the end I dragged my comforter over to the open window and lay there looking at the night sky. It’s full of stars now that they’ve cut the streetlights after midnight.

I walked all the way to Offenders tonight only to find it canceled. I nosed around for a bit, but there was no sign of Kim or Tracey. Maybe I did overreact that time. So I stomped all the way home. Chickens running around the kitchen and my dad disappearing thru the back door with a bucket of pig food. Animal Farm, basically.

“Could you carry that water out to Larkin?” Dad cried over his shoulder.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Larkin is one cool little pig. When I poured the water into his trough, he flipped his head back and grinned before pushing his hairy snout thru the bars of the sty toward me. What could I do? It’s not his fault. I bent down and rubbed behind his ears and he scrunched his tiny eyes up into creases of joy.

“Hello, Laura.”

My hand jerked back.

“Oh, hi, Ravi.” I tried to keep my voice as normal as a girl-scratching-a-family-pig-talking-to-a-boy-who-she-is-maybe-or-maybe-not-dating can manage. “How’d your exams go?”

“Yeah, good. Finished yesterday . . . So—what’s with the porker?”

I shook my head. “He’s Dad’s—it’s a long story.” This huge longing to be normal swept over me. Behind me Larkin suddenly did a kind of pig backflip, squealing at maximum volume.

“So, what—your dad’s setting up a farm?”

“Traded in the Saab for all this.”

Ravi let out a low whistle. “Mental.”

“And it’s not only him—haven’t you seen your rabbits?” I jerked my thumb toward his shed.

His face darkened. “Where? No!” He stomped up to the shed and flung the door open. 8 pairs of ears twitched from within.

“Where’s my stuff?”

“Ah, Ravi.” Shiva stood on the doorstep. “I did not wish to disturb your exams . . . As you can see, we—”

“What’ve you done? Where’s all my kit?”

“—are now having some new friends, the rabbits.” Shiva smiled. “Very nutritious, very productive.”

“Screw nutritious, this is my place.”

Shiva frowned. “Do not speak with such language to your father. Your equipment has merely been relocated for this exciting family project. . . . Ah, sorry, darling.” He moved to one side as Mrs. Datta appeared with a sack of vegetable choppings.

“Oh, right, a family project. Then why’s Mum doing all the work again? You make me sick.”

“I don’t mind,” said Mrs. Datta with a tired smile.

“You see, she is not minding. Men do not peel vegetables, but when killing time comes, that is the man’s time.

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