The Bitter Side of Sweet by Sullivan Tara

Author:Sullivan, Tara [Sullivan, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2016-02-13T11:15:34+00:00

“This has got to be the worst idea ever,” I hiss at Khadija from our hiding spot behind a big copse of trees. “Even worse than my ideas.”

“Shush,” she says. “You’re just jealous you didn’t come up with it first.”

I scowl and hold Seydou tighter against my side. He tries to push away, but I don’t let him. I am not jealous that I didn’t come up with this idea first: it’s madness. However, as we crouch here, too near the dusty track for comfort, I have to admit that there is a faint chance I might get jealous—if it works.

There are a lot of ifs. If the pisteur stayed behind to help the bosses put out the fire for long enough that we’re still ahead of him, and if he doesn’t decide to spend the rest of the day at the farm, and if he hasn’t joined the search party, and if he doesn’t take some other trail we don’t know about, and if we don’t get caught or killed before he gets here, then maybe Khadija’s plan has a chance of working.

When I hear the rumble of an engine in the distance, at first I can’t believe my ears. Then all my muscles tense. Seydou stops struggling. Khadija holds her breath.

My eyes dart around the path in front of us. A large branch is blocking the road, as if it had fallen there. All of our footprints are carefully smoothed out. The leaves and bushes to the sides of the road have been carefully rearranged so that it doesn’t look like anyone has been through them. The noise gets louder. There’s no way he should be able to tell that we set up the roadblock, but even so, my heart hammers in my ears. I duck my head out of sight as the pisteur’s pickup truck rounds the bend. When it slows, I have to remind myself that this is what we wanted, this is what we planned.

He’s not coming to find you, I repeat in my head, over and over again as I hear the truck slow to a stop a little ways past us. I hear the metallic creaking of the driver’s door opening. I hear him curse to himself as he surveys the branch.

A shove on the side of my head makes me focus again. Khadija waves wildly, pointing at the road. Right. This is no time to get lost in daydreaming about what the driver’s doing.

I peek around the side of the tree and see the pisteur grab one end of the branch to haul it out of his way. His blue shirt pulls across his huge chest as he does so. He’s even bigger up close. Focused on the task, he’s facing away from the road behind him. I grab Seydou by his good arm and grip my machete in the other, my hands suddenly sweaty. We scramble as quietly as we can through the bush, Khadija behind us.

Carefully, we creep up the red dirt track to the back of the truck.

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