OCR Text |
Show 28 The smell wrapped itself around him. Apa flipped the cooked cakes off the rocks with a stick. Chua caught one. "Oh, it's too hot to hold," he said tossing it between the fingers of each hand. He juggled it onto another rock to cool. As soon as he could hold it, he began to eat. "This is the best you've ever made," Chua said to his mother. Apa smiled. "You're just very hungry," she said, and she ate one herself. Chua burned his tongue on the second cake. He didn't care because his belly was getting full. He laid back with his head on a rock and sucked cool air into his mouth to soothe his burning tongue. The pain left as the air came into his^mouth, but it burned again as soon as the air stopped. Apa continued to cook cakes for the migration journey. The smell of cooking and the smoke from the fire aroused Ahote. He twisted and sat up. His body shook and beads of sweat popped out on his upper lip and forehead. "What are we doing here?" he roared. The deafening sound filled the cave. "We should be migrating with the rest of the clan. They have gone on ahead and left us behind." The beady eyes stared at Chua. Ahote picked up a rock and threw it at Chua. > Chua ducked. "Get out of here," yelled Ahote. "You should be weeding the com, not laying around some . . . " Ahote looked around to see where he was. " . . . some cave." Chua had never been treated this way in his life. His father had been gentle and kind. |