Origin by Jessica Khoury Read Free Book Online Page B

around him, because Uncle Paolo’s softer than he lets on.
    I catch my image in the glass wall facing the rainforest and spin slowly to see the full effect of the gown. The reflected color nearly blends in with the jungle beyond, as if I’m dressed not in fabric but in leaves.
    I walk to the window and press my hands to the glass. It is a perfect night for the perfect party. I look up, and through the gaps in the canopy of trees, I see a clear, starry night. A full moon shines above the kapoks and the palms, but the leaves and vines are so thick that its rays hardly reach the jungle floor. Yet I see one place where a column of faint silver light filters down through the canopy and tinges the lower foliage. It dances across the leaves, creating a path over the undergrowth, a road of moonlight that would be invisible by day. If I were a butterfly, I would follow that path into the heart of the jungle, perhaps even to Falk’s Glen, where the elysia grows.
    For a moment, I don’t want parties or cake or dresses. Those things seem suddenly hollow and silly. I want instead to follow that silver path until it ends and never look back. Pressing my hands against the cold glass, I stare at the jungle and wonder what secrets lie in its shadows.
    Suddenly I notice movement in the leaves, and acoatimundi emerges from the undergrowth, his long black tail pointing straight up at the sky. He sniffs the fence, and for a moment I’m horrified that he’ll touch it and shock himself. The electric pulses in the fencing are generated every 1.2 seconds, and only at enough voltage to deter intruders, but to a small animal like the coatimundi, the fence could do serious damage. But he must smell the danger, because he shakes his head and turns around.
    He disappears into the leaves, and my insanity disappears with him. I laugh out loud at my own crazy thoughts—really, running off into the jungle at night?—and hurry to find my party.
    The center of Little Cam is a garden. It includes one large plot where we grow vegetables and fruits, but the rest is made of pathways and ponds and flowerbeds. I smell the orchids before I even reach the garden. They smell sweetest at night, to attract the moths that spread their pollen through the jungle.
    I find a crowd waiting for me. They cheer when they see me, and I can’t help but laugh at how they look. Most of the men are in suits they brought when they came to Little Cam years ago, and I can tell that this is the first time they’ve worn them since arriving. They are all wrinkled or don’t fit right. Some of them have tuxedos, including my father and Uncle Paolo, which they must have had Uncle Timothy bring from the outside. My mother is wearing a silver dress, and there are orchids in her hair. She looks nothing like the serious, stern woman who normally runs around in a tank top and shorts. I’ve never realized how beautiful my mother is until now. Thefew wrinkles on her face seem to have vanished, and she is smiling and holding Uncle Paolo’s arm.
    When she sees me, she sighs and lets go of Uncle Paolo to take my hands.
    “Oh, Pia.” Her fingers brush the delicate sleeves of the dress. “Turn for me.”
    “Why? What’s wrong with it?” I ask as I spin slowly. Leave it to my mother to find something to criticize.
    But when I face her again, it isn’t scorn I see in her eyes—but tears. I try not to gape. Tears?
My
mother? Unheard of.
    “Are you…okay?” I ask uncertainly.
    She smiles. “You look so grown up. My Pia. Seventeen years old.” Suddenly—as if the moment were strange enough already—she pulls me into a hug. A
hug
. The last time my mother hugged me I couldn’t even walk yet. I freeze in astonishment, then slowly return the embrace. I stare at Uncle Paolo over her shoulder and the look he gives in return is just as surprised.
    When Mother pulls away, I feel warmer inside. Maybe I don’t know her as well I thought.
    “Come, Pia,” she says. “Your party’s