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Show 112 "For you, pal. Now it's all yours. Bought and paid for. How's it feel to be so rich?" "Nicko, you get so carried away," grinned Sara. "On top of the world, right, buddy?" They had watched the handkerchief spiral down, a red streamer, Sara laughing and pointing-short hair ruffling in the breeze and a nose so small it made her eyes seem as blue and expansive as the sea itself. Still they had lost sight of it before it reached the water. Later, outside Enrique's Bodega, they had looked up to where they had been-Steven nursing the ankle he had managed to sprain on the way down. "Well, was it worth it?" asked Nick. Steven thought about it, looked at Sara. It was a risky business, this new life. "All right," he admitted, "it was worth it." Nick laughed his laugh. "Good, good. Now we'll start doing some things." They had gone fishing with the Pescadores, early morning adventures in small leaky boats; plundered orange groves in broad daylight and been chased away by angry farmers; and at night, in spite of the warning signs posted by the Guardia Civil, they built fires on the beach. "They're afraid we might signal a ship loaded with contraband," Sara had whispered in high drama. "Is it true what they say about jail if we're caught stealing oranges?" asked Steven. |
