Andreo's Race by Pam Withers Page A

“We’re supposed to lay off activities to recover and get ready for the next leg!”
    â€œDavid,” comes Mother’s shout. “Let me check your foot blisters.”
    â€œThey’re fine.” David’s cheeks turn bright red at the public announcement.
    â€œNow, David,” she insists, and he reluctantly rises and wanders off.
    â€œMaria,” I ask as soon as David is out of earshot, “I want to show you a photo and ask you a question. But I can’t let my mother or David see me take it out of my pack.”
    â€œOkay,” she says in a measured tone. “Raul, keep watch and warn us if anyone comes our way?”
    â€œAce spy, at your service.”
    We turn our backs and I pull out the photo.
    â€œÂ â€˜ VANESSA GUTIERREZ OF TOROTORO ,’ ” she reads. “Where’d you get this? I’ve heard of her.”
    â€œYou have?” I’m unable to hide my excitement at the news.
    â€œIt’s not like my little village has had many beauty queens.”
    I pull out my birth certificate and point to my birth mother’s name. Her eyes grow large. “Hey, Vanessa Gutierrez is your birth mother?”
    â€œShhhh!”
    We peer at Raul, who’s trying to blow a tune on some blades of grass between glances at Mother dressing David’s foot.
    â€œKnow anything about her? Like where she might be now?”
    Maria shakes her head. “No, but my grandmother lives in Torotoro, and she’d remember her.”
    My fingers clutch the photo tighter. “Can I talk to your grandma, Maria? On our day off tomorrow? To find out what I can?”
    â€œSure,” she says amiably. She pulls paper and pencil from her backpack to scribble a name and address for me.
    â€œWarning. Mother and brother on prowl,” comes Raul’s voice.
    I shove the papers back into their plastic sheath and bury it deep in my pack. Maria stands and wanders a short distance away.
    â€œDavid, Andreo and Raul, get some rest now, okay?” Mother points to the sleeping tarp and heads toward it. David stands awkwardly, shooting poison-dart eyes at Raul and me.
    â€œGuys,” Maria calls to the three of us, “come see this cool boulder over here.” Her dad’s and uncles’ heads rise to watch us.
    â€œYou bet,” Raul says, instantly by her side—but taking care not to stand too close, given the alert eyes of the bouncer-type uncles.
    â€œInteresting,” David says, joining us and stooping down to peer at a crevice in the boulder that resembles a dwarf’s doorway.
    â€œWho can squeeze through it?” Maria challenges us with a smile, dropping to her knees and arching her head back like a limbo dancer to pass through it gracefully.
    Raul, master caver that he is, grins, contorts himself like a pretzel and eases through it as if he has done so a million times before.
    I drop to all fours and squeeze through, nowhere near as smoothly as Raul.
    David hesitates. “What if I get stuck?”
    â€œYou won’t!” Maria encourages him. “Your chest will fit if you …” She trails off as he blushes deep red.
    Right, she has noticed your chest size, bro. That totally means she’s in love with you. NOT, you maniac
.
    David stands tall, puffs out his chest and moves toward the gap, making a show of visually measuring it.
    â€œAttaway,” Maria’s father calls out. “Get ’im stuck solid. Then we’ll beat ’em for sure.”
    David drops to his knees, tucks his elbows in, ducks his head and proceeds into the gap. Sure enough, he seems to get stuck. Maria flits to the opposite side to encourage him. Raul and I move around to watch from that angle too.
    â€œI’m stuck—totally, totally stuck,” he cries out, but there’s something about his tone that seems wrong.
    Maria, concern all over her face, offers him her hand. “You can do it, David. I know you