Escape Under the Forever Sky Read Online Free Page B

fourteen seconds, fifteen seconds, sixteen seconds, seventeen seconds.
Stop
. The kerosene lamp probably also meant there was no electricity here, wherever here was. It was hot even though it was night, so here was probably somewhere at a lower altitude than Addis.
Great, that narrows it down to about fifty percent of the country
.
    The only other thing in the room was a bucket.
    Next, I observed myself. I was wearing a black T-shirt and green cotton pants, underwear, a hair elastic, and my watch, with its two time zones and compass. My sandals were gone. I was sweating, and my ribs and my right hip hurt. My contact lenses felt like sandpaper, but I couldn’t take them out because I’d be completely blind without them.
    I have to pee
.
    Oh no, I seriously have to pee. What am I going to do? No way, not the bucket. Ugh. I can’t believe I have to pee in that bucket. There’s no toilet paper either
.
    It’s amazing what you can do with your hands tied together if you’re lucky enough to be wearing pants with an elastic waistband. One small victory for Lucy.
    What’s going on? Why did they kidnap me? Who are they?
I thought maybe it was because of Mom’s job. Or maybe it was just about ransom. The kidnappers might have thought my family was really rich because we’re American, even though we’re not because both my parents have government jobs. But I guess compared with most Ethiopians, we are rich.
Who knows?
    I should have known better. After my giant stupidity at the market, I should have known better.

Chapter Five
One Month Ago

    I T WAS MY idea to cut last-period study hall—I couldn’t stand the agony of waiting one second more. Racing the two blocks from school, Tana, Teddy, and I just managed to catch the bus before it pulled away from the stop. It was painted the usual ketchup red and mustard yellow with the lion of Judah, the national symbol of Ethiopia, emblazoned on the side, rearing on its hind legs and pawing the air. I was so excited I practically high-fived it. This was my first time on any kind of Ethiopian public transportation.
    We gave the driver the two-birr fare (about twenty-five cents) and smushed our way through the packed aisle to crowd around a pole halfway back. We were inour school uniforms, but somehow Tana looked like the next teen movie queen in her plaid jumper while I looked like Raggedy Ann in mine. And Teddy—well, with his long eyelashes and the way his smile flashes against his dark skin, he looks hot no matter what he wears. But I knew that thinking of Teddy that way was bad for our friendship, so I tried to stop myself whenever it happened (which I had to admit was a lot).
    â€œWhat did you tell your mother?” Tana asked me.
    â€œThat I was going to your house after school,” I said. “What about you?”
    â€œThat I was going to your house.” She smiled.
    â€œI told the matron I was going to the
mercato
.” Teddy boards at school, since his home is in Guge, a small village near the lake region in the south.
    â€œYou told her the truth?”
    â€œWhy not? She asked me to bring her some prayer candles.”
    I rolled my eyes. “How come boys here get to do whatever they want, and girls can’t do anything? I bet you can stay out all night in your village and no one cares.”
    â€œI guess so,” he said, his shoulders tensing. He looked away from us out the window.
    It’s hard to get Teddy to talk about his village. Partly because he doesn’t feel the need to share every detail of his life the way I do, but also because it’s painful for him. Both of Teddy’s brothers had died. He hasn’t told us why, but it’s not hard to guess—half a million Ethiopian kids die every year from disease and bad nutrition, and it’s even worse for the poorest families, like Teddy’s. Before he came to Addis, Teddy had to walk six kilometers to the next village to go to