The Killing Sea by Richard Lewis

Author:Richard Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2006-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Bungong jeumpa

Bungong jeumpa,

Meugah di Aceh…

The sweetness of it was nearly unbearable. Worry for her father returned with a piercing vengeance. And her mother—but to her horror, her mother’s face was a blank.

Chapter 17

Ruslan didn’t sleep well that night on the farmer’s hill. The evening’s meal of coconut was sour in his stomach. By God, he was getting sick of the stuff. He didn’t want to eat another coconut in his whole life.

But that wasn’t what was really bothering him. Sarah had asked him to go with her and Peter into Calang. He didn’t want to. He should start heading into the green hills to Ie Mameh. Bapak and Aisyah could help Sarah and Peter.

Sometime in the morning he would say his good-byes and veer off to the north, making his way on his own. He had his father to find. Surely Sarah would understand.

When the band descended the hillock at dawn, Ruslan led the way. He was eager to get to Ie Mameh. He was certain that by the end of the afternoon he’d be hugging his father, kissing his cheeks. The thought of it cheered him so much that he started whistling. As he jumped a small ditch, he noticed Sarah staring at him, and he fell silent, feeling guilty.

“No, no, don’t stop,” she said. “It’s so good to hear somebody whistling.”

He bowed to her and finished the tune.

“My dad could whistle,” Sarah said. “He couldn’t sing, though. It was torture to be with him in the car, him and Mom singing stupid love songs. Wasn’t it, Peter?”

The twins had fashioned a stretcher from some scavenged bamboo and burlap and were carrying him. Surf Cat, too, was hitching a ride, snoozing by Peter’s side. Peter smiled weakly. “Awful,” he agreed.

Ruslan had no idea what Sarah’s parents were like, but the image of them singing duets in a car made him grin. “Love songs?”

“Yeah, like this one.” Sarah began to sing a song about feelings, feelings of love.

Ruslan winced exaggeratedly, pressing his hands to his ears. Sarah laughed and hit him lightly on the arm. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh. It was a nice sound, a normal sound, a sound from Ruslan’s previous life, when the sea had still been steady. The small happiness of hearing it was like the sweet juice that broke each day of the Ramadan fast.

An hour later they came to a shallow place where they could ford the estuary and then backtrack to a road that led into Calang. Several miles to the right stretched the first of the green foothills. Ruslan stepped to the side, letting others pass, and stared at the valleys. Ie Mameh was on the slopes of one, but he couldn’t remember which one. Well, there’d be other villages. He’d find out.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, startling him. He hadn’t noticed her approach.

He pointed to the hills. “That’s where my mother’s village is. My father’s there.”

She frowned. He had to look away as she said, “You’re not leaving us, are you? You promised me, Ruslan, you promised me you’d help me find the doctor.

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