Read Forty Days: Neima's Ark, Book One for Free Online Page A

dozens of sacks of grain, barrels of dried fruit and salted
meat, and bales of hay to the ark. Even Arisi and Grandmother help,
when we have no more flour to bake with and little grain left to
grind. I’m not sure which is worse: the glares and whispers and
even laughter that grow bolder each time we pass through the
village, or the knowledge that in just a few more days, we’ll have
to carry everything back again—and through rain and over mud, most
likely.
    Kenaan doesn’t help much, either, as
he runs up several times a day to show Shai and me his latest
catch. Once it’s a pair of skittering green things that dash
frantically from one side of their cage to the other, making my
heart leap in a strange way. I wish he could let them out, could
answer their desperate call for release—but not too near me or my
cottage. Another time his cage holds a long, slithering brown snake
like a coil of clay come to life. “Still have to find a female,” he
says, “so let me know if you step on one.”
    “ Do you even know if that
one’s male?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Kenaan just looks
away. I think half the time, he hasn’t even managed to catch two of
the same kind, much less one male and one female. He just trusts
that no one will look too closely—because who would?
    On the afternoon of the third day
after Noah’s announcement, Kenaan tells me he’s done with reptiles,
and now he’s going to trap birds. He waits till Shai is on the
other side of the courtyard, eating raisins out of the jar her
mother is loading, before he asks, “Want to come with me? Maybe you
can sing to attract them.”
    “ Huh.” Kenaan knows I
can’t sing, and I think his entire invitation is a joke, until he
goes on:
    “ Please, Neima. I’m
so bored , and
you’re the only one who can know what I’m doing.”
    I look down at my hands,
red and blistered from so many trips with the cart, and then over
at Mother, who is doing a poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop.
“Oh, just go ,”
she says as she loads another sack with loaves of over-baked,
nearly inedible bread. I know she’s only agreeing because she wants
Kenaan for a son-in-law, but right now, I’ll take any opportunity
to escape.
    On the way out of the village, we run
into Jorin, who narrows his eyes in exaggerated suspicion. “Let me
guess”—he crosses his arms over his chest—“Noah’s finally taken
things too far, so you two are running away to the woods to live
together. I thought you’d at least take Shai with you.”
    “ Very funny,” I say, but
Jorin’s looking at Kenaan—or, rather, he’s looking at the
box-shaped twig traps Kenaan’s carrying.
    “ Are you hunting?” he
asks.
    “ In a manner of speaking.”
Kenaan smiles. “And your earlier guess is partly right as well:
Noah has grown stranger still, and he’s sent us into the hills to
capture all manner of birds.”
    I guess Kenaan’s not so concerned with
keeping our family’s secrets after all, at least not from
Jorin.
    Jorin frowns. “To eat, or—”
    “ He wants us to trap them
alive and uninjured,” Kenaan jumps in. “Beyond that, I’m not sure.”
So it appears he’s not willing to share all our secrets.
    Jorin shrugs and then,
accepting as always, breaks into a grin that reaches all the way to
his eyes. “Well, I’ll come with you. I’d do anything to escape this
blasted sun and my father’s endless commands. I’d even put up
with your company.” He nudges my shoulder as we head further into the
delicious shade of the tree cover, up the first slight slope of the
hillside.
    “ I don’t know,” I say,
“you might scare all the birds away.”
    “ Truly, Jorin”—Kenaan’s
shoulders grow rigid, and a new edge creeps into his voice—“our
task will be easier without you clomping around making
noise.”
    “ Oh.” Jorin stops walking,
his own shoulders slumping, and looks from me to Kenaan and back
again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—” He shrugs