2.

My entire body shakes. At first, I think it’s the ground, and that the fiery spheres have caught up to us. Then I think it’s a stampede of some sort. Maybe buffants—a mutation between buffalo and elephants. When they reach you, there’s no outrunning or escaping them. You’ll be trampled to death.

“Andy, wake up.” Mama’s hushed voice breaks through my drowsy thoughts. It’s then I realize the ground isn’t shaking, just me, and Mama’s causing it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep watch,” I tell her. One glance and I see that the opening to our tent has been zipped.

“Don’t worry. I woke after you fell asleep.”

“You didn’t rest?” I rub the crust from the corner of my eyes, and reach for the canteen. There’s little water left, and it’s beginning to thaw. Enough, though, that I can take a sip and wash the crap-taste out of my mouth.

“I’ll be fine. I think we’ll make it today.”

“I hope so.” I open the tent door and step outside. Immediately, the sun singes my face. I turn around and search for my torn baseball cap. Dad used to wear it. Mattie didn’t call dibs after Dad left, so I took it. But it provides enough coverage that my face won’t fry.

Mattie has trouble waking up. He’s been so exhausted lately, and with him malnourished, I can only imagine how much worse this trek is for his little body.

“Sweetie, you have to get up,” Mama coos.

Mattie rolls over, facing away from her. I’m sure that if he spoke, he’d tell her he doesn’t want to get up, that he’s too tired. But until he begins speaking again, we won’t know.

“C’mon, Mattster. The sooner you get up and get going, the sooner we’ll reach Legora.”

He slowly sits, pulling himself out of the sleeping bag.

“Are you excited?” I ask him.

He gazes at me with sorrow-filled eyes and slowly nods. I know he’s hungry and exhausted. I wish there’s a way I can tell him it’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to work out. But I can’t.

With Mama and Mattie awake, I take my usual position in rolling up the sleeping bag and disassembling the tent. In a few more hours we’ll be close to reaching the town we’ve journeyed for. My stomach performs a solo somersault at the idea that it’ll soon have food and drink. I lick my creviced lips.

As soon as Mattie takes the backpack with our diminished supplies, Mama takes the sleeping bag, and I take the folded tent. Then we begin another new adventure.

Two hours later, and with the sun blistering our backs, we have to take a break. I feel as if the sun’s rays suck the energy straight out of my body.

“We can’t rest anymore until we get there,” I say, turning the canteen upside down to prove there’s not a drop of water left. “We have to make it by tonight.”

Mama nods. “I can try to carry Mattie. He doesn’t weigh much, anyway.”

“Don’t burden yourself. You aren’t fully rested from yesterday. I’ll take care of him if it comes to that.”

Mattie scrunches his face like he doesn’t like us speaking about him, as if he’s not standing there with us. I grin, but he turns away. His face goes sour, paling out. I quickly glance in the direction he’s facing and see what the problem is.

Gypsies.

A plethora of them.

Mama gasps. Without further thought, I move to stand in front of her and Mattie; they huddle behind me. The gypsy caravans are moving across the sandy wasteland. I’m hoping they don’t see us, but when one of them catches my eye, I know we’re in deep trouble.

One of the horse drivers holds up a fist, signaling the rest to stop. An elderly woman, with frosted hair and wrinkles that cover every portion of her face, crosses the distance between us with an incredibly slow gait. When she nears, her lips peel back, exposing several missing teeth.

“Come with us,” she says in an accent as thick as a buffant’s skin.

I don’t know whether to say no or run. What if they decide to kill us and roast us for their next meal? What if they enslave Mattie for the rest of his life? Or Mama? I’m sure I can handle it. But I couldn’t handle them treating my family that way.

“If we come with you, what will you do to us?” I ask.

A grin creeps across her lips, and her laugh crackles like fire. “Feed you.” She reaches out and grabs my skin, then pulls.

“Ow!” I blurt.

“What is this? Nothing. Nothing is there.” I can’t place her foreign tongue. It sounds like a Russian boy I once knew. “You come with us.”

I look at Mama. She’s as torn as me. If they do provide us with food, then we’ll be eternally grateful. But it could also be a trap.

“What do you think?” I whisper.

Mama shakes her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What if they do want to help? We need food and water.” I plead with my eyes.

“Very good,” says the old woman. “Come.” She waves her hand for us to follow.

Mama reluctantly trails behind the gypsy lady and me. If this is some sort of trick, I’ll take all the blame. They better not roast us over an open campfire. I better not be their next meal.

Vultures caw and screech overhead, as if to tell me I just made the biggest mistake of my pathetic life.

As we approach the caravan, eyes prod us. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable. It’s like they’re assessing how we look without our clothes on.

I shudder.

“This way,” says the woman. She leads us to a purple-and-fuchsia-colored wagon with gold drapes, and fringes that sway in the hot breeze. “In here.”

I look at Mama, but she gives me a look that boldly says, What other choice do we have? She’s right. We’re already outnumbered, and they might have weapons.

So, I get in.

Inside, the cart opens up to a full buffet of mouthwatering food and juice. I step back out, totally confused. The cart I see on the outside is not what I’m seeing on the inside. Some sort of magic is being used. I roll my eyes.

Gypsies.

For all I know, the food spread could be poisonous. I voice my thought to Mama.

She bites her lower lip. “Andy, we can’t make it on what we have stored.”

I lower my voice and say, “I know that, but what if their intent is to kill us?”

“Don’t be absurd. If they wanted us dead, they would’ve slit our throats and emptied our pockets by now.”

She makes a good point.

Mattie reaches for a roll at the end of the buffet. I smack his hand away without thinking, then add, “Let me eat first. If I’m okay, then you two can eat. I’ll test everything.”

“What am I going to do if you don’t make it? I can’t live with losing a husband and a child.” Tears adorn Mama’s eyes.

I pat her arm, leaving my hand to linger. “You can do it. For Mattie.”

It takes her a couple of heartbeats before she nods, and I take the first bite.