Read Online The Spanish Kidnapping Disaster by Mary Downing Hahn - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Downing Hahn
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meat and vegetables. From the way she shook her head and muttered to herself, I felt that she, like Grace, didn't approve of what Orlando was saying.
By the time a pot was simmering over the fire, Charles and Orlando were drinking wine together and laughing as if they were in a cafe. Grace sat apart, her back to them, and smoked one long, dark cigarette after another. Señora Perez continued to mutter and shake her head. Every now and then she looked at us and sighed.
As the goat stew filled the cave with its pungent aroma, Phillip leaned against Amy. "I'm tired of being kidnapped," he said. "I want to go home."
Then he started to cry. Watching tears roll down his cheeks, I felt a big lump form in my own throat. Putting my head on my knees, I began crying too. I couldn't help it. I wanted my mother. I'd had enough, more than enough, of Grace's true
España.
"Stop it!" Charles said. He was standing over us, frowning. "Stop it immediately. If there's one thing I cannot tolerate it's crying children!"
Orlando scowled at us from the other side of the fire, and Señora Perez muttered glumly, one hand pressed against her forehead, the other stirring the stew. Pushing Charles aside, Grace knelt beside Phillip.
"Now, now," she said, "you must not cry. You will make yourself sick."
Turning to me, she added, "You must set him an example, Felix. Be strong and hard, like the children in my country who fight their enemies and do not cry."
But I had no desire to be like the strong, hard children in Grace's country, whoever they were. Not now, not today. All I wanted was to go home and sit on my mother's lap and be comforted. Pushing Grace's hand away from my shoulder, I kept right on crying.
***
An hour or so later, Señora Perez summoned us to the fire to eat. This time, we took our bowls of stew without complaining. I was so hungry, I would have eaten anything, even brussels sprouts and lima beans. Besides, I told myself, it was better to escape with a full stomach than an empty one.
After dinner, Phillip, Amy, and I retreated to our blankets. In the dim light, I saw Orlando take his post by the cave's entrance. Charles sat silently beside him, smoking one cigarette after another and filling the air with a foul-smelling blue haze. Never in my life had I seen anyone smoke as much as he did. If our health book was right, his lungs must have been coated black with tar. As usual, he also had a bottle of wine to share with Orlando.
Near the fire's smoldering coals, Grace sat alone, her face hidden by her hair. There was no sign of Señora Perez. Perhaps she'd hopped on a broom and flown away.
Finally, too tired to watch my enemies any longer, I lay down beside Phillip and Amy. They were already asleep, and I envied them. Little fingers of cold air poked under my blankets, and sharp stones jabbed me. Amy moaned and cried in her sleep, and Phillip snored. Worst of all were the rustling sounds in the darkness. Suppose a bear had found its way into the cave? Would it attack me while I slept?
Hour after hour passed. No bear emerged from the shadows. Amy stopped moaning. Except for an occasional snuffle, Phillip slept quietly too. Finally I began to relax, but just when I was on the edge of a dream about home, I felt something bump against me. Terrified, I jerked wide awake and saw Grace's face inches from mine.
"Sh," she whispered as I sat up, too startled to speak. "It is my turn to be the guard, and Orlando wakes easily."
"What do you want?" I stared at her, but she was watching Orlando as if she thought he might throw his blankets aside and mow us down with his machine gun.
When he began snoring, Grace turned back to me. "I am sorry, Felix," she whispered. "You hate me, I know, and believe I have betrayed you. But I did not mean all this to happen."
I frowned at Grace, trying to see her face clearly but the darkness made it impossible. Her features were blurry, her eyes shadowy.
"I thought no harm would come to you,"
By the time a pot was simmering over the fire, Charles and Orlando were drinking wine together and laughing as if they were in a cafe. Grace sat apart, her back to them, and smoked one long, dark cigarette after another. Señora Perez continued to mutter and shake her head. Every now and then she looked at us and sighed.
As the goat stew filled the cave with its pungent aroma, Phillip leaned against Amy. "I'm tired of being kidnapped," he said. "I want to go home."
Then he started to cry. Watching tears roll down his cheeks, I felt a big lump form in my own throat. Putting my head on my knees, I began crying too. I couldn't help it. I wanted my mother. I'd had enough, more than enough, of Grace's true
España.
"Stop it!" Charles said. He was standing over us, frowning. "Stop it immediately. If there's one thing I cannot tolerate it's crying children!"
Orlando scowled at us from the other side of the fire, and Señora Perez muttered glumly, one hand pressed against her forehead, the other stirring the stew. Pushing Charles aside, Grace knelt beside Phillip.
"Now, now," she said, "you must not cry. You will make yourself sick."
Turning to me, she added, "You must set him an example, Felix. Be strong and hard, like the children in my country who fight their enemies and do not cry."
But I had no desire to be like the strong, hard children in Grace's country, whoever they were. Not now, not today. All I wanted was to go home and sit on my mother's lap and be comforted. Pushing Grace's hand away from my shoulder, I kept right on crying.
***
An hour or so later, Señora Perez summoned us to the fire to eat. This time, we took our bowls of stew without complaining. I was so hungry, I would have eaten anything, even brussels sprouts and lima beans. Besides, I told myself, it was better to escape with a full stomach than an empty one.
After dinner, Phillip, Amy, and I retreated to our blankets. In the dim light, I saw Orlando take his post by the cave's entrance. Charles sat silently beside him, smoking one cigarette after another and filling the air with a foul-smelling blue haze. Never in my life had I seen anyone smoke as much as he did. If our health book was right, his lungs must have been coated black with tar. As usual, he also had a bottle of wine to share with Orlando.
Near the fire's smoldering coals, Grace sat alone, her face hidden by her hair. There was no sign of Señora Perez. Perhaps she'd hopped on a broom and flown away.
Finally, too tired to watch my enemies any longer, I lay down beside Phillip and Amy. They were already asleep, and I envied them. Little fingers of cold air poked under my blankets, and sharp stones jabbed me. Amy moaned and cried in her sleep, and Phillip snored. Worst of all were the rustling sounds in the darkness. Suppose a bear had found its way into the cave? Would it attack me while I slept?
Hour after hour passed. No bear emerged from the shadows. Amy stopped moaning. Except for an occasional snuffle, Phillip slept quietly too. Finally I began to relax, but just when I was on the edge of a dream about home, I felt something bump against me. Terrified, I jerked wide awake and saw Grace's face inches from mine.
"Sh," she whispered as I sat up, too startled to speak. "It is my turn to be the guard, and Orlando wakes easily."
"What do you want?" I stared at her, but she was watching Orlando as if she thought he might throw his blankets aside and mow us down with his machine gun.
When he began snoring, Grace turned back to me. "I am sorry, Felix," she whispered. "You hate me, I know, and believe I have betrayed you. But I did not mean all this to happen."
I frowned at Grace, trying to see her face clearly but the darkness made it impossible. Her features were blurry, her eyes shadowy.
"I thought no harm would come to you,"
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