Beverly Hills Maasai Read Online Free Page B

happens.”
    “What run? What are you talking about?”
    Nebala pulled out a piece of paper. He reached over the seat to offer it to me.
    “I’m driving! Olivia, can you take it?”
    Olivia grabbed the crumpled piece of paper and straightened it out.
    “A cut above the rest,”
she read out.
“You are invited to the inaugural Beverly Hills Marathon on Sunday, February 25.”
Olivia turned around in her seat. “You’ve come all this way to watch the marathon?”
    “Not watch. Run. We are here to
run
the marathon.”
    “I had no idea you were a runner,” I said. “How long have you been training?”
    “We are Maasai,” he replied simply.
    “What does that mean?” Olivia asked.
    “They spend their whole lives running,” I explained.
    “Without stopping. Never rest,” Nebala added.
    “I guess if you’re running a marathon you can’t stop or—” I caught a glimpse of something in the mirror. I took a quick glance backwards. Samuel was standing up, his arms extended into the air as if he were flying!
    “You have to make him sit down!” I yelled.
    Nebala said something to him in Swahili, and Samuel answered but didn’t sit down.
    “He says he is too happy to sit. Too excited. He has never been in a car before.”
    “You’re joking, right?” Olivia asked.
    “No.”
    “But you live hundreds of miles from Nairobi, so how did you get to the airport if you didn’t come in a car?”
    “Walked.”
    “You walked … hundreds of miles?” Olivia said. “Close to three hundred.”
    “Wow! I don’t even like it when I have to park too far from the entrance to the mall,” she said. “Thank goodness for valet parking.”
    “What does that mean … ‘valet parking’?” Nebala asked.
    “It’s nothing,” I said. “Just something lazy people use so they don’t have to walk.”
    “Hey! Hey!” Olivia protested. “You use valet parking. I’ve been with you!”
    “I didn’t say I wasn’t lazy.”
    Olivia turned around in the seat to face Nebala. “I just can’t believe that you walked hundreds of miles.”
    “That’s nothing. We are—”
    “Maasai,” I said, cutting him off. “We know, we know.”
    “I guess that’s great training for a marathon,” Olivia added.
    I noticed the people in the car beside us gaping and laughing and pointing. I’d forgotten about Samuel. He was still standing. In fact he seemed to be standing even taller, as if he was on his tippy-toes. His blanket was blowing and flowing behind him like a cape. If he’d had a big “S” on his shield he could have been “SuperMaasai.”
    I looked all around. Once again we were the centre of attention. All we needed now was a police car to pull us over. I was sure that none of the guys had their seatbelts on—they wouldn’t have known what they were.
    “Samuel
has
to sit!” I yelled. “Tell him it’s dangerous.”
    Nebala said something to Samuel, who said something back and then started to laugh. What he didn’t do was sit down.
    “What did you say to him?”
    “He said he is not afraid of danger because he is—”
    “I know, I know.” This was getting old fast. “It’s just that if I have to stop suddenly he’ll fly right out of the car!”
    Nebala translated again and Samuel answered. More laughter, but he continued to stand.
    “What? What did he say?”
    “I told him you could make him fly like a bird, and he wanted you to show him because he has always wanted to be a bird.”
    That wasn’t the plan. But I knew one way to make him sit.
    “I’m surprised that he doesn’t listen to you. I thought that because you’re King Nebala’s son, a very respected Maasai, he would listen to you … especially since he is practically just a boy.”
    Nebala barked out something, and Samuel dropped down to the seat as if he’d been shot. He sat there meekly, looking down at his feet. Maybe he wasn’t smiling anymore, but I was.

CHAPTER FIVE
    We slowed as we came up to the entrance to my house. I pushed a