Read Jakarta Missing for Free Online Page B

that. Even Melanie’s aunt had faith. Oh, Jakarta, she thought suddenly. Are you lost? Please don’t be one of the water babies. Please don’t be.
    â€œThe hell of it,” Dad said thoughtfully, “is that even though I didn’t inherit their faith, I did inherit a kind of fierce compassion they had. I’ve ended up with the same compulsion—to make a difference. To leave the world a better place than I found it.”
    Without any warning he started to laugh. “I guess the one thing I can say for sure is that your mom and I promised each other not to say no to any adventure that came our way, and we’re still keeping our promise.”
    Wait. Was that two things or three? And what if she wanted to stop having adventures? Dakar couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been afraid for him. Listening as he told her about meeting the snarling cheetah at dusk. Watching him struggle to hold the grass roof on the clinic in a windstorm. Looking up as he dangled beside a waterfall high above her head. There had to be something better, something safer, than sliding through life like a water baby on a flimsy boat, never stopping anywhere for long.
    She was trying to think what to say when she felt his hands pull away from her. She wanted to pull them back. But it was better not to get used to having anyone’s hands in the night. Anyway, they all needed to get some sleep. She knew that from boarding school. You’d feel better if you could just get the night over with.
    â€œI’ll get you warm milk,” he whispered. “It will help you sleep.”
    She would sleep, she thought as his footsteps died away. She would sleep—because it would be too awful to lie there awake. In boarding school she would sometimes say the books of the Bible. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth … oops. She hadn’t said them for a while, and now she was stuck. How about the former Russian czars, since she was reading about them in social studies? Alexander I, Alexander II, Alexander III, Boris Godunov. Wait. Boris was before the Alexanders. She could feel it all starting to jumble in her mind. Boris Godunov JoshuaJudgesRuth …
    She woke up at least two more times that night. The first time she was pretty sure she heard Dad yelling something. But maybe she wasn’t really awake because she could also clearly smell that huge permanent puddle of gray water and old motor oil, and that puddle covered the street outside their apartment in Egypt.
    Even later she vaguely thought she heard a phone ringing. “Yes?” Was that her father shouting, or was it in her dream? “Yes?” A few minutes later he was at her door. “Are you awake? It’s okay. I got in touch with an old friend in Frankfurt who happened to be in e-mail contact with someone in the Sudan who had a shortwave radio contact in Nairobi. That person let the school know to put Jakarta on the next plane. It’ll still be a few days, but the school said she’s fine.”
    What about the quest? Dakar thought sleepily. She hadn’t even had a chance to save Jakarta. Suddenly she was wide awake and feeling foolish. Then it struck her. Maybe she had gone on a quest without even knowing it. Was it possible the banister was the first brave thing and the high school door was the second and the cook was the third? And what about the candle smoke or making a true friend? Maybe she’d heard Jakarta’s voice because she’d made some kind of eerie connection. Wouldn’t that be weird? She’d have to ask Jakarta when she got home.
    She reached out for the glass by her bedside table. Ugh. The milk was cold. She could warm it up if she could figure out how to work the microwave. Instead, she snuggled under the blanket, hugging her pillow. She stared into the darkness, trying to connect her mind to Jakarta’s. As she finally drifted off, two thoughts