Read Online The People of Sparks by Jeanne DuPrau - Free Book Online Page B

Kensington.”
    Kensington was a little younger than Doon, a skinny boy with yellow hair, big ears, and a freckled nose. He kept his eyes on the floor, except for a couple of quick, curious glances. “Hi,” he said to the floor in a soft, shy voice.
    “And these,” Martha Parton said to her family, sweeping her arm in the direction of the guests, “are the people from underground.” She raised her eyebrows at them. “You’re lucky to have found your way here,” she said. “The only other settlements we know of are little miserable ones hundreds of miles away. Everything else is just hard, rocky dirt, and ruins, and grass.”
    “And you’ve not only come to the right place,” added Ordney. “You’ve come at the right time. It’s taken years of hard work, but Sparks is finally doing well.”
    “Now!” said Martha, clapping her hands. “Time to eat!”
    They sat down at the big table, and Martha brought out dishes of food. “I suppose you’ve never tasted anything like this,” she said, handing around a bowl of fresh peas. “Just picked this morning. And this is pumpkin bread, made from what I canned of last year’s crop. Good, isn’t it? Did you have pumpkin bread where you came from?”
    “No, indeed,” said Doon’s father.
    “We did have peas, though,” said Clary. “Grown in our greenhouses.”
    “And very fine they were,” said Mrs. Polster loyally. “Though slightly smaller than these.”
    “Probably you haven’t had pickled carrots, either,” Martha said, passing the dish around. “These are from my mother’s famous recipe.”
    “We did have carrots,” said Mrs. Polster. “A nice pale orange, some of them fully four inches long.”
    “Is that right,” said Martha. “Ours are twelve inches, usually.”
    Miss Thorn picked delicately at her food, making a polite comment now and then. Edward Pocket ate with such a vigorous appetite that he had no time for talking. Kensington ate steadily and silently. Every time Doon glanced his way, he found the boy staring at him, but as soon as their eyes met, Kensington looked back at his plate.
    Ordney Parton cleared his throat. Apparently this meant he was going to speak, because his family all instantly looked at him. “I never knew,” he said, “that there was a kind of people who lived underground. Must feel strange to you here on the surface.”
    “Actually,” said Doon, “we aren’t a different kind of people. This place feels familiar, in a way, because we came from here originally.”
    “From here? Oh, I don’t think so,” said Martha. “You don’t look a bit like us. You’re so much—well, smaller, if you’ll pardon my saying so. And paler.”
    “True,” said Clary, “but I suppose that’s because of living in a dark place for so long. Everything is bigger and brighter here.”
    “But why do you think you came from here?” Martha asked.
    “Because of a notebook we found,” Doon said. “It was written by someone from this world who went to live in Ember right at the beginning. All the people of Ember came from this world.”
    “Is that so,” said Martha, eyeing Doon skeptically. “Well, I must say, it’s the strangest thing
I’ve
ever heard.”
    Doon’s father changed the subject. “You have such a fine, solid house,” he said. “What is it made of?”
    “Earth,” said Martha.
    “Pounded,” said Ordney. “Strong as stone.”
    “Thick walls,” said Martha. “They make it cool in hot weather and warm in cold.” She reached for another pickled carrot. “I suppose you lived in—what? Some sort of burrows?”
    “Stone houses,” said Edward Pocket, suddenly joining the conversation because his plate was empty. “Two stories. Extremely sturdy. Never too warm.”
    There was a silence.
    “Such a lovely lunch,” said Miss Thorn in a small voice.
    “Perfectly delicious,” Mrs. Polster declared. The others chimed in, and Martha beamed.
    They all rose from the table. Martha scurried into the kitchen