Jungle Crossing by Sydney Salter Read Free Book Online

Barb started nagging him with questions. "Tell us about the girl. Does she survive? Do they hurt her baby brother? Where are they taking her?"
    Nando ignored her.
    "Tell us the stoooory." Barb drew out the word "story" so it had about a million syllables. "Pleeese."
    I leaned forward, tapping Barb on the arm. "Don't make him mad." I glanced at Nando, hunched down low in his seat like a jaguar waiting to pounce. "Quit bugging him."
    "I never promised to finish the story." Nando looked out the window. "Maybe I don't feel like wasting it on tourists."
    "I know! I'll tell you a story first." Barb ignored my warning punch in the shoulder and slid across the aisle to Nando's seat. I imagined Mom crying her eyes out when I told her about Barb being strangled by a dangerous stranger on the stupid teen tour, but she couldn't say that I hadn't warned her.
    Barb went on and on about the big mountains in Utah and our cats Marvin and Harvey, her room with pink butterflies on the wallpaper, how she wished we had a dog like her friend Sophie, how math was her favorite subject in school but she was also a good reader like her friend Emma. Blah blah blah. I couldn't tell if Nando was listening or not, but he'd score major points at mini-camp for sweetness. Personally, I wanted to strangle her.
    "So, where we pick you up, where does that road go? Fancy pyramids?" asked Barb.
    "No. Just a small village," Nando said.
    "Why can't the bus go to your house? My school bus goes right to my house. Well, really it's the next house over, but—"
    "Barb." Why did she keep ignoring me? I shifted forward on the seat to avoid a patch of scratchy duct tape.
    "You can only get to my village by foot or horseback." Nando stared straight ahead. Why couldn't Barb buy a clue?
    "Horses! You have horses? That's so cool. I'd love to ride a horse everywhere."
    Nando scoffed. "No, you'd rather have your smooth roads and fancy cars. Believe me."
    "How far is it?" Barb wouldn't shut up.
    "Three kilometers or so."
    Barb gasped. "Three miles!"
    "It's more like two miles." I couldn't help myself. After all, I'd gotten an A in honors math. Nando glanced back at me, but I couldn't read his expression.
    "Do you have grocery stores and stuff in your village? We have a Dan's—that's a grocery store—really close, but sometimes my mom goes to Wild Oats."
    "Rich American
turistas.
" Nando shook his head. "No. We grow all our own food. Fruits, vegetables, chickens, pigs."
    "That's so cool. My mom wouldn't let me grow a garden this summer; she said we were traveling too much," Barb said. "What about electricity?"
    "My cousin has a generator, but most of us don't have any."
    "Do you have a TV?" Barb asked. Was she even thinking? Or was her mouth on shuffle? Random thought. Random thought. Random thought.
    "If there's no electricity, you wouldn't have a TV." I moved to the seat behind Nando and Barb to avoid all that duct tape, plus I'd be close enough to cover Barb's mouth with my hand.
    "Oh, yeah."
    "My cousin uses his generator to watch TV," Nando said. "We're not just ignorant peasants." He looked at me.
    "Hey, won't we get to see your house," Barb asked, "when we go to your sister's party?"
    Nando glanced back at me again. "I guess." He sounded as thrilled about it as I did.
    Hopefully, we could just skip that whole thing.

    The bus pulled up to a row of shops selling sombreros, pottery, silver—a mall without walls or doors.
    Alfredo stood up. "Welcome to Tulum," he said. "We take tram to ruins, have tour, eat picnic lunch—lots of iguanas, very tasty." No one laughed. "Joke, joke," he said. "We have Mexican picnic—tortillas, fruit, good stuff."
    We climbed off the bus and headed down a sandy road toward the tram. Monique and Dante held hands. The cheerleaders actually turned cartwheels. Please! Barb kept stopping to look at big piles of stones.
    "Let's go," I said.
    "Maybe some secret treasure is buried under one of these mounds."
    "That is just an old