Salt
Page 9
You don’t need to plan out the whole story before you begin writing.
See what you discover about the story from each character’s point of view.
When two girls meet at camp, they recognize each other immediately. Six years before, an accidental kidnapping transformed both of their lives. But neither of them knows the whole truth of what happened. What will they do, now that they’re sharing a cabin—and a powerful secret?
Read on for a sneak peek of
HIDDEN.
1
I was a happy little girl wearing a pink dress,
sitting in our gold minivan,
dancing with my doll, Kamara.
I’ll be right back, Mom promised.
Leave the music on, I begged,
so she left her keys
dangling
while she
ran in to pay for gas
and buy a Diet Coke.
2
I think about that little girl
the way you might remember your best friend
who moved away.
Sitting in the middle seat
beside an open window,
her seatbelt fastened,
she looked out at the world.
3
And then she heard
a gunshot
from inside the store.
That’s when she—when I—
stopped breathing.
I clicked my seatbelt off,
dived into the back, and
ducked down on the floor
to hide
under a blanket
until Mom
came back out.
I heard the car door open, heard it close.
The music stopped.
Why? Mom liked that song.
I breathed again. (Mom smelled like cigarettes.)
I pushed the blanket off my face,
opened my mouth
to ask,
What happened in there?
But then I heard a word Mom wouldn’t say.
A man’s voice.
C’mon! Start! He was yelling at our car—
and the car
obeyed him.
It started up
just like it thought
Mom was driving.
4
Who was driving?
Had this man just shot someone? Had he
shot … Mom?
If he found out I was back there
what would he do to me?
I pulled the blanket back over my face.
(Pretend you’re Kamara.
Don’t breathe. Don’t move.
Be as small as you can—smaller.)
Sand on the floor of the car. I pressed hard.
It stuck to my skin.
I pressed harder.
(Breathe
if you have to,
but don’t move a muscle.)
Like a small rabbit
that knows a cat is close by,
I paid attention. I didn’t
twitch.
5
I could tell which way we were headed—
we stopped at the King Street stoplight.
Left turn … right turn … left …
He sped up.
Was he trying to throw the police off our trail?
He stopped, got out of the car.
Where were we?
He got back in,
drove off faster.
Sirens?
Yes—coming closer!
One time in first grade,
a police officer came to our class.
“If someone tries to grab you,” she said,
“wave your arms, kick your legs.
Yell at the top of your lungs,
THIS MAN IS NOT MY FATHER.”
The sirens meant
someone might stop us—
I could jump up.
I could wave.
I could yell.
But it didn’t happen.
We drove faster, farther.
The sirens
faded away in the distance.
Long straight road … curvy road …
Fast for a while. No stops.
Right turn.
Left turn.
Stop. Go. Turn …
I swallowed the panic that rose.
I didn’t throw up.
6
Sound of gravel. Dust in my throat.
(Don’t cough!)
Bumping along that dusty road,
screaming inside.
(Dad, where are you? Mom?)
A phone rang—Dad’s ring on Mom’s phone!
Mom must have left her phone in the car.
Her whole purse, down on the floor?
(Do not—do not!—jump up and grab it.)
I clenched my hands together.
GPS, the man snarled—I heard him dump
Mom’s purse upside down.
He opened a window.
He closed it.
(Did he just toss Mom’s phone out the window?)
7
I put my thumb in my mouth
like a little baby. I pulled my knees
to my chin, and closed my eyes tight.
Where were we going?
What would happen to me when we got there?
After a long time—
it felt like hours—
the car slowed down.
We made a sharp turn.
We stopped.
He got out.
I heard a garage door open.
He got back in the car.
Forward.
Stop.
The garage door came down.
The car door opened, slammed shut.
I heard a dog.
Barking or growling?
In the garage or outside?
Another door opened
and closed.
Had the man gone somewhere?
8
Carefully, I pushed back the blanket
and looked around.
I was alone
in a very dark place.
I might have been wrong about Mom’s phone.
I kept my head low,
climbed into the middle seat,
leaned far enough forward
so I could see into the front.
Mom’s water bottle—not quite empty.
A chocolate chip granola bar.
Kleenex.
ChapStick.
Checkbook.
Calendar.
Her little album of pictures—
me and Alex, her and Dad.
No wallet—she took that into the store.
No phone.
9
Where was I?
A messy garage—rakes and shovels,
gas cans and broken-down boxes.
In the garage door,
higher than I could reach,
three small windows,
a few rays of sun shining through them.
Behind an old freezer—
a door—to outside?
A red-and-white boat
on a trailer
right next to the car.
If I could get out fast enough, he’d never know I was there.
I told myself what to do, and I did it:
Quietly—get out of the car with Kamara.
Take the granola bar. Leave the water—
if I take that, he might notice it’s gone.
Carefully tiptoe across the floor.
(The dog—outside—still growl-barking.)
Squeeze behind the freezer.
Try to open the side door.
Locked
with a padlock
the size of my fist.
10
The freezer was empty, unplugged—it wouldn’t be cold.
Could I get inside, and hide there?
No. A boy on the news
got stuck inside an old freezer—
he suffocated to death
before his mom found him.
I shivered.
ALSO BY HELEN FROST
Keesha’s House
The Braid
Diamond Willow
Crossing Stones
Hidden
Room 214: A Year in Poems
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Helen Frost is the author of several books for young people, including Hidden, Diamond Willow, Crossing Stones, The Braid, and Keesha’s House, selected an Honor Book for the Michael L. Printz Award. Helen Frost was born in 1949 in South Dakota, the fifth of ten children. She recalls the summer her family moved from South Dakota to Oregon, traveling in a big trailer and camping in places like the Badlands and Yellowstone. Her father told the family stories before they went to sleep, and Helen would dream about their travels, her family, and their old house. “That’s how I became a writer,” she says. “I didn’t know it at the time, but all those things were accumulating somewhere inside me.” As a child, she loved to travel, think, swim, sing, learn, canoe, write, argue, sew, play the piano, play softball, play with dolls, daydream, read, go fishing, and climb trees. Now, when she sits down to write, her own experiences become the details of her stories. Helen has lived in South Dakota, Oregon, Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, Scotland, Colorado, Alaska, California, and Indiana. She currently lives in Fort Wayne, Indiana, with her family. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Map
Introduction
Characters
Salt in the Sea, Salt on the Earth
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Salt’s Long, Slow Journey
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Salt Crystals Shine
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Deer Come to the Salt
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
This Gaze, These Deep Brown Eyes
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
The Deer’s Heart
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
The Deer’s Life and our Life
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
Veins Like Rivers
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Salt Inside the Words
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
Salt Streaks
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
James
Anikwa
Now the Sugar Maple
Notes
Glossary of Miami (Myaamia) Words
Acknowledgments
A Conversation with Helen Frost
Discussion Questions
Writing from Two Points of View
Teaser
Also by Helen Frost
About the Author
Copyright
An Imprint of Macmillan
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New York, NY 10010
mackids.com
SALT. Copyright © 2013 by Helen Frost. All rights reserved.
Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers under license from Macmillan.
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
Frontispiece map art by Laszlo Kubinyi. Map research assistance from the Myaamia Center at Miami University, which consulted Helen Hornbeck Tanner and Miklos Pinther’s Atlas of Great Lakes Indian History, pages 96–121.
Originally published in the United States by Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers
First Square Fish Edition: 2015
Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
eISBN 9781250127075
First eBook edition: May 2016