“Shoulders down,” I say in her ear.
She obeys and keeps working. When she’s finished, she cleans her brush.
“How’s the painting?” she asks me directly.
“Do you need me to say it’s okay?”
“Yes,” Kammi says.
“It’s okay so far.”
Her face wilts.
“Really,” I say. “It’s good for a first attempt. You captured the mood, the bright morning, with a hint of darkness.” Like the day. I untie my backpack and shuffle my feet into flip-flops, leaving the hiking sandals to breathe. “But you know, an artist wouldn’t care what anyone else thought.”
“Your mother does, and she’s an artist.”
Kammi has me. To the world, Mother is an artist. She gauges herself by what the critics say. She can close herself off in a dark room just waiting for the critics to write reviews in the art magazines. Before they’ve sounded the first weak note of praise, she’s barricaded herself.
Do I care what people say about my jewelry? I’ve shown it only to Zoe, and not even everything. I have my own version of the inner sanctum, of turning the canvas from others’ view. Maybe I’m no artist after all.
“Lunch!” Dr. Bindas calls us to the small, shady area near a rock outcropping where some scraggly divi-divi trees struggle to grow. Roberto and Loco are already there. Mayur and Saco scoop up their Hackey Sack and come running. Why they brought it with them on the hike I have no idea. Except that they wanted to show off for Kammi; that’s clear. She was looking at Saco out of the corner of her eye when she was supposed to be painting. Maybe it worked.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“REMEMBER to ask him,” I tell Kammi as we join Dr. Bindas and the boys for lunch.
She nods. Saco’s left half a blanket open next to him, and Kammi takes it, sitting delicately with her feet tucked to the side, arranging herself like a model posing for an artist. No one tells her how to do this, she just knows by instinct.
I take a space at the edge of Dr. Bindas’s blanket, close enough to Mayur to catch his eye if he looks my way. The boys eat noisily, like feasting crows.
After lunch, Dr. Bindas says he’s going to take a nap, he’s tired from a late night at the hospital. He finds a patch of shade and lies down. Once he’s been still for a while, Saco stands and nods toward a trail. We all, even Kammi, make our way over. When I look back, Dr. Bindas hasn’t moved.
“There’s a short trail this way,” Saco says.
“Where to?” Kammi asks.
“A cave,” Mayur says, flapping his arms like a bat’s wings.
Kammi shivers.
“It’s not dangerous,” Saco says, frowning at his cousin.
“I don’t see a cave on the map.” I hold the paper map Dr. Bindas gave us in front of me.
“It’s not on the official map,” Saco says. “But I’ve been there before. It isn’t far. It’s about here.” Saco points to a blank space on my map. “We brought flashlights.”
Kammi and I don’t have flashlights. Caves are one thing Martia didn’t prepare us for today.
“Are there bats?” Kammi asks.
“Not last time. It’s not like the sea caves,” Saco says.
“Won’t Dr. Bindas get mad if he wakes up?” Kammi asks.
“Not at you.” Loco grins.
The thought of going to a secret cave that isn’t on the map excites the boys. I can feel their desire to sneak off fan out in hot, dry waves across my skin.
“We can go quickly and come back. We’ll stay together,” Roberto says.
Mayur looks at me. “If you come, it will be worth it.” Does he mean he’ll tell me?
Saco looks at Kammi, who turns to me.
“Okay.” I nod. If we’re with the boys, Dr. Bindas can’t say we were hiking alone.
The cave is farther than I thought it would be. I’m still wearing my flip-flops, but the sports sandals are in my pack. I bring up the rear, easing my way around prickly pear cacti.
If this is a trail, it’s a wild donkey path.
I’m sweating, and the sun glares down on us. Did Dr. Bindas wake up yet and wonder where we are? We didn’t leave him any clues. Not even a stack of rocks pointing the way we walked. Just Kammi’s painting drying in the sun.
“This is it,” Saco says, pointing. An overhang of rock hides the cave entrance. I’d never have seen it.
The boys dig flashlights from their packs. Saco has two. He gives one to Kammi, who looks at me. I shrug.
“I have an extra one, too,” Mayur says. “Maybe the batteries will last.” He hands me a skinny flashlight, the kind that uses double-A batteries. I press the button and hold my hand over the front to shield the sunlight. A faint glow shows it’s working, though how bright it will be inside, I don’t know.