I hadn’t even noticed Jed and LaKeemba were gone, but as they strode back into camp, I could tell something was up. They walked like they meant business, and as they returned to the fire, all of us grew quiet. Mr. Wilson used thick welding gloves to lift the griddle off its stand and lean it against the stones of the firepit. Then, he lifted the spit and stirred the logs with his poker.
“Make it roar, Alan. Even higher than we talked about,” LaKeemba said.
I looked at Jed, and his brow furrowed. Apparently, neither of us knew that his dad and LaKeemba had already talked.
“They are here, friends,” LaKeemba said, and I could hear her voice echo through the woods at the back of the pasture. “We are ready.”
I wanted to object, to say that I had no idea what was happening and, thus, could n
