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Chapter 7

Timothy J. Bradley Argosy Press PDF

CHAPTER 7

The next morning, Penny, Hari, and Sidney returned to the microshelter for breakfast. The other students lined the long tables set up for them, eating and chatting about the exciting day to come. Sid wolfed down another protein bar.

Even in his micro state, his appetite was as big as ever. As he ate, he inspected one of the shock prods used to electrocute any bees that got too curious. The mental itch of his curiosity was focused on how the shock prods worked. And the only way to scratch that itch was to take something apart. He cracked open the titanium casing and stared at the inside.

“What’s up?” Hari asked, sitting down with a tray of food.

“Nothing!” Sid replied guiltily, but when he saw the grin on Hari’s face he relaxed. “Habit, I guess. You know, I think I could make these things deliver a really big shock if

I reversed the polarity of these two modules.”

“I hope you disconnected the battery before you started poking around in that thing,” Hari said. “Otherwise, you’ ll be the one getting the really big shock.”

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6. Scenes in a Roman Theater

Elsa Marston Indiana University Press ePub

A STORY FROM TUNISIA

 

With a sigh, Hedi plunked himself down on a stone seat in the Roman theater. As the last of the afternoon’s tourists straggled off and disappeared among the ancient walls, he stared dully at the grand view of the ruins and the green hills of the Tunisian countryside beyond.

He hadn’t done very well today. Only one hat sold. His mother would be disappointed, and he wouldn’t blame her … having to make those hats every night after her day’s labor in the fields, weaving straw till her fingers were sore. Tomorrow he’d try harder. Midwinter break from school gave him a few days to earn money, and he couldn’t waste the chance.

It’d be so much better, Hedi often thought, if he could be a guide, more interesting and more money. Once in a while he did manage to latch on to a friendly couple and show them a few sights … the temple, the theater, the baths and marketplace—and best of all, the communal toilet where twelve people could sit at a time. That always got a laugh, and Hedi would get a few small coins. But that was all. A real guide had to be older and know a lot more.

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Chapter 8

Timothy J. Bradley Argosy Press PDF
Chapter 8

“Hey, Penny!” Sidney said. “Come on over. You have to see how our parasite is doing. At this rate, all the animals’ eyeballs will be infected by...hey, are you all right?”“Fine,” she said listlessly. “Just tired.”“We have to get our presentation ready for theSymposium,” Hari said. “We could use your help with the animations. You’re the only one of us who has any artistic talent.”Penny stared offscreen, frowning. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”Sid sat back down at his desk, pushing the pieces of a disassembled antigravity ball out of his way. “Have you noticed that Penny’s been in a weird mood since we got back from the field trip?”Hari nodded, changing the channel on the image wall to display a space probe hanging in the atmosphere ofJupiter. The thick orange clouds rushed past, hypnotizing him. “She took the hornet attack hard. She really liked the bees, and I think she was pretty shocked at the way the bee colony was wiped out. I don’t blame her. It was really intense.” See All Chapters
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5. In Line

Elsa Marston Indiana University Press ePub

A STORY FROM EGYPT

 

Halfway home from school, on a lovely clear day in December, I did something really daring. I decided to change my route. Not much, of course, because my mother knew exactly how long it took me to get home and she would be waiting. I just thought it would be nice to walk along the canal a bit and pretend it was the Nile. That’s how it happened I ran into Fayza.

I’d noticed her in class. You could hardly not notice her, even in a classroom as packed with people as ours. She always raised her hand to answer the teacher’s questions—she even asked good questions of her own! What’s more, she was a lot smarter than most of the boys and wasn’t afraid to let them know it. So I’d begun to think I’d like to get to know her. But how? Most people still acted as if I were from Mars, or someplace even farther away, and they couldn’t figure me out. I was afraid Fayza might feel that way, too.

Well, I would try, at least.

Fayza was standing at the edge of the canal, holding a big bunch of flowers—roses so bedraggled they looked as though the flower seller had given them to her for free. But what made me curious was the way she was staring down at the canal. I stopped near her to see what she was looking at. It was a donkey, dead, lying there in the water.

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8. The Plan

Elsa Marston Indiana University Press ePub

A STORY FROM A PALESTINIAN REFUGEE CAMP IN LEBANON

 

The moment the new art teacher walked into Rami’s classroom, he and every other boy bounced up straight in their seats. With her cheerful smile and green eyes, her shiny brown hair and pink smock that said “You Gotta Have Art,” she looked like all the flowers of springtime.

“We are very fortunate, boys,” announced the principal in his best speech-making Arabic, “to have Miss Nuha Trabulsi to teach you art for the rest of the term. Of course, she has to go to other schools in the camp as well, and therefore she can come here only one day a week, on Thursday. But she will make you learn many things about art—how to draw and how to paint, and maybe other things.” He glanced at Miss Trabulsi for confirmation.

She smiled. “Definitely,” she said.

Rami thought, only one hour a week? And he’d have to share Miss Trabulsi with more than a thousand other boys?

Others might have been discouraged by such odds, but not Rami. After one good look at Miss Trabulsi, he decided on his life’s mission—for the next three months, at least.

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