A Rare Breed by Mary Tate Engels

and upset about our own hopeless situation. Still, I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday, and I'm sorry."
    Yolanda stared at Brit a moment, then smiled slightly. "I did my share of yelling, too." Her dark eyes softened. "I like somebody who can apologize, Brit. That takes some guts."
    "Hardly. I just had to do something about it."
    "Believe it or not, this whole thing has me pretty upset, too. I know I'm hard to get along with; Rudi lets me know that all the time. So for others, outsiders like you, it's especially tough. You don't know or understand me. I'm temperamental. That's just the way I am."
    "That's no excuse. What if I told you that's the way I am, too?"
    Yolanda shrugged. "I guess we'd have some problems, huh?"
    "You expect people to make exceptions for you because of who you are. But down here, everybody's the same. We're all in a bind until we're rescued."
    Yolanda looked contrite and sat down on a rock. "I remember being sort of demanding when I was a little girl back in San Antonio. Even then, I wanted attention. Craved it. My papa would say that in our family of eight there was no room for one to be special. We all had to pitch in together. And we did. I didn't like it, but I did what was necessary. So, you see, I can." She grinned sheepishly. "I just haven't done it in a long time."
    "Hey, I know you're accustomed to things being better back in Hollywood," Brit conceded. "You're used to having your way. This is hard for you, I know. But my life is better and easier, back home, too. That doesn't change the hard fact that here we are. Stuck together."
    Yolanda toyed with a wet leaf that she picked from the rock. With a little chuckle, she suggested, "I'll bet I could write a doozie of a routine about this. About us and our arguments and our generally rotten situation down here."
    Brit laughed lightly. "I'm sure you could."
    "So, babe," Rudi broke in. "Do it. Go ahead and write it. That would be great."
    Yolanda looked from Brit to Rudi, then back to Brit. A new gleam lit her brown eyes. "You wouldn't get offended if I made jokes about this? I mean, it hasn't always been funny. We've been in a dangerous situation. Still, it could be hilarious."
    "We wouldn't mind at all," Brit said honestly. "I think we might enjoy a laugh or two at our-selves. We haven't done much of that lately, either."
    "That was how I got attention in our family. We were very poor, and I made jokes about it. We laughed, and it was better." Yolanda's smile revealed a hint of the little girl who laughed her way out of poverty. "If I could get my hands on some paper, I would do it."
    "I'm sure Jake has a spare notebook he'd share." Brit motioned toward the large tent. "Plus he has that laptop computer. Maybe he'll let you use it."
    "Okay. I'll ask him. I'm glad we had this little talk, Brit." Spontaneously, Yolanda gave her a quick hug. "I feel better,"
    "Me, too,” Brit said and hugged her back.
    “Now, what's for lunch? Rudi and I are starved."
    Rudi responded as he sorted through the box of food Jake had left out for them. "There's oat-meal or canned tuna."
    "Uggh! Come on, Rudi. Let's find something more appetizing." She motioned for him to fol low her into the tent where they could go through more supply boxes.
    Brit laughed, knowing that they wouldn't find anything more exciting than a jar of crunchy peanut butter or packaged noodles.
    Feeling a sense of relief after her conversation with Yolanda, Brit climbed back up into the little cave that had been her shelter from the rain with Jake. Actually it wasn't such a bad place to curl up with a book. There were some warm memories associated with the place, like when Jake had snuggled close to her. She brought a soda and some peanut butter crackers to nibble and her only book.
    Brit was always surprised at how the chill of the early morning melted into extreme heat by midday. She removed Jake's long-sleeved shirt and rolled it up for a pillow. Then she slipped Jake's baggy jeans and