Small as an Elephant: Chapters 14–19

He knew that wet batteries corroded, but it hadn’t been wet that long.

It was like the time they predicted a really big blizzard in Boston. He and his mom went into preparation mode, buying canned goods and water, getting out the candles. He knew he was preparing now; he just didn’t know for what.

He pulled himself up and went back to the computer to figure out logistics.

He knew he was being ambitious; he’d have to leave pretty early if he planned to make it that far.

Almost immediately, he started speeding down the hill. He panicked and braked hard, nearly catapulting over the top of the handlebars.

Later, he realized that if he downshifted while coasting, he would gain more traction at the end and would therefore not have to work quite so hard on the next climb.

He swam from one side of the bridge to the other, hoping there weren’t snakes or leeches in this river, and boy, did it feel good.

Glancing down at the narrow double lanes and the barely waist-high, rusty guardrail on the old bridge, Jack was awfully glad for the renovation.

Too bad he didn’t have his flashlight. He would have loved to explore all the nooks and crannies of this place.

The lower rooms in the fort were even darker and cooler, arid water dripped down some of the walls. Although they were initially dark and creepy, it was in these dank cellar rooms that his burned back felt most comfortable.

Sure enough, he passed a troop of Cub Scouts, screeching as they entered a dark powder room at the base of the fort. Since these were locals and more apt to know about him, he figured it was time to get his stuff and be off.

When the sobs subsided, he remained curled on the ground, hiccuping.

Jack would have stayed there, stayed right there, until some unsuspecting person tripped over him, if it weren’t for the setting sun and the onslaught of mosquitoes.

Jack would have stayed there, stayed right there, until some unsuspecting person tripped over him, if it weren’t for the setting sun and the onslaught of mosquitoes.

Their insistent squeal and the increasing stiffness he was feeling from his sunburn forced him to get up and get walking.

Some seeds do not germinate unless they have passed through an elephant’s digestive system.

Some seeds do not germinate unless they have passed through an elephant’s digestive system.

The music climbed right up to the church rafters and swelled.

Jack could distinguish the sound of one female singer with a high voice and one male with a very low voice. All of the other voices seemed to blend into one.

It was as if thinking about the fight was searing the edges of his heart the way he and Nina used to sear the edges of maps to make them look old.

Young elephants love to play together. They tussle over sticks, roll upon one another, attack imaginary enemies, and trunk wrestle.

He and the tusked elephant ambled through a lush green forest and then emerged into a field where a large crowd was waiting.

And, even though he wouldn’t allow himself to check his YouPage—not until he’d seen Lydia—there was a small chance that reporters had tracked down his mother, had figured out her whereabouts.

In the back of the cafe was a display case that held pastries: doughnuts, eclairs, croissants, giant muffins.

He picked up a nearby graphic novel, hoping to look engrossed and be somewhat hidden if anyone else came into the store.

He was in a...in a safe. Not a safe, a vault. The kind that he’d seen in a movie about notorious bank robbers.

“Of course I was going to turn you in. The whole state of Maine’s looking for you! Your poor grandmother is worried sick.”
He bristled at that but was glad she couldn’t see it.

“Well, why don’t you enlighten me, then?”

All of his instincts were telling him not to trust this strange girl, not to let her get any closer than she already was.

She paused. “I suppose,” she said, as gently as anyone could say such a thing. “I think it qualifies as abandonment or child neglect or something.”