Social Issues
DJ looked at the other boys in Cabin Six. Raj, Ernie and Andrew were sprawled on the floor, making their journals. DJ had finished his yesterday. He had also made a monkey mask, a bucket hat and a rock paperweight. He was tired of crafts.
DJ glanced at the rain-streaked window. Wait a minute. Something yellow peaked through the trees. DJ shot to his feet. "The sun's out!" he shouted.
Chris opened the door. "Look's like it's clearing up. Get your rain gear, guys. We're going for a hike."
Cold fear twisted in my stomach. I couldn't argue now, not with José lying on the ground, shaking, while Mamá and Marcos tried to hoist him up. But how could I talk to the patrón? A man who yelled at his workers about any little thing would never listen to a kid, especially a kid whose English was sure to come out all wrong. It always did when I was nervous or upset. And yelling the names of vegetables in Spanish wasn't going to help me one bit this time.
At first, relief flooded her. Nobody in sight—just the bare gray rock gleaming in the hot sun. Then she spotted the blue canoe floating in the reeds. Before Melissa could turn around, someone waded out of the shade cast by the low boughs of a tree overhanging the water.
It was a girl in a red bathing suit, standing waist deep. She had long blond hair that hung down her back and a thin pointed face. She didn't look at all surprised to see Melissa. In fact, Melissa thought afterwards, it was as if she had expected her.
We're hot and red-faced and breathless and when we see Dexter we both start to laugh.
"You too, Dexter," Mean Megan says. "You have to dance too."
I say, "Dex too."
Maybe Dexter is too stunned to say no, because she starts making her pretty swan movements while I snap my fingers and stomp my feet and Megan grooves and swerves her head around and makes her hip-hop moves. Mom and Dad stand in the doorway of the den, watching us and saying nothing.
Alberto had an alligator, but he didn't have a bathing suit.
