Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [15]
With a flick of my brother’s wrist, we’ve got thick rolls drenched in butter and mashed potatoes full of sour cream. An oversize turkey dominates the middle of the circle, and creamed corn edges up on green beans.
And the pie. Apple, pumpkin, pecan. I could eat pie for the rest of my life.
The kids are all talking at once, and the adults are looking too dumbstruck to really believe it. I beam at Whit excitedly, but he’s not smiling. Instead he’s watching Pearl, who’s still slicing at the tough pigeon meat on her plate, her mouth twisted into that tight little knot I keep spotting on her face.
No one moves to touch anything before Mama May’s say-so, and I can tell Whit’s as nervous as I am.
But Mama’s round face glows, candlelight dancing in her eyes, and her broad grin puts me at ease. “I can’t tell you how much this means to our family. We’ve lost so much —” She looks around at each hollow-cheeked kid and takes a deep breath. “I just want you all to know that this really is the best Feast Day we’ve ever had.”
I think of past Holidays with food I never really tasted, presents I can’t even remember. Cutting out of family time early to do one thing or another. I squeeze my brother’s hand.
“It’s the best for us, too,” I whisper.
Chapter 16
Wisty
AFTER DINNER, WHIT keeps pushing for us to just take off, leaving the Needermans behind.
I gawk at him. “Now? You’re not serious. It’s the Feast Day!”
He chews his lip. “Wist, you haven’t been outside in a while — you don’t know how it is. Things are getting more dangerous.” There’s something different in his voice that I can’t place. He looks away from me, but he’s already gathering our things.
“Well, then there’ll be more N.O. guards around now than ever, won’t there?” I point out. “Besides, I’m barely over the plague.” I try to look frail. Using my near-death experience is a little manipulative, but it’s true nonetheless.
Can’t we just enjoy this semblance of happy tradition a tiny bit longer? my eyes plead.
Whit huffs and stalks away, but I know I’ve at least bought us some time.
Still, later, as the Needermans exchange their Holiday gifts, I almost wish we had left and avoided intruding on their intimate family moment. Whit and I try to give them space, cleaning up the dishes on the sidelines, but it’s hard not to stare at their thoughtful handmade presents — metal trinkets they unearthed while scavenging; rocks polished smooth; drumsticks whittled from scrap wood by hand. … My heart clenches at the unexpected reminder of the gift my mom once gave me.
Just then Pearl Marie runs up to us, a ball of excitement. She’s holding out a garbage bag tied with string for each of us. I take mine, raising an eyebrow at Whit.
“What are you waiting for? The fall of the New Order? Open it already!” Pearl squeals.
At the bottom of each giant garbage bag is a single strand of silver tinsel. I’m not quite sure what to do with it, but Pearl’s eyes shimmer expectantly, and Whit’s face lights up. I haven’t seen him smile this wide since … well, since before we were first kidnapped.
“Thanks, kid. This really means a lot.” From the way Whit’s acting, it’s clear how precious this scraggly stuff is to her and how tough it must’ve been to give it up.
“Yeah, well, I figured you might need a little sparkle for that ugly mug,” Pearl says, straight-faced.
“Come here, smart stuff!” Whit yells, scooping her up and tossing her in the air. Pearl shrieks her high hyena laugh, and it’s almost like we’re a family.
Family. Suddenly I miss my parents so much I can almost feel them in the room with me. We were together not so long ago, but it already seems like forever since I’ve heard their voices.
Voices that The One silenced for good.
Before I can turn away, Mama May spots the hot, salty tears rushing down my cheeks. Her strong arms envelop me in a crushing hug.
“I know how it is, sweet pea. Everything’s changing, and this time of year is the hardest. So many traditions lost, so many people dead. It used to be the season for