Joy
Mr. Falcon had stripped off his T-shirt and put it on the right way after I pointed out that he had it backwards and inside out. He mumbled something about putting it on in a hurry when he got my call, but it sounded fishy to me, and Alex was avoiding my eyes again.
We loaded outer backpacks with as much food as we could carry from the mess hall, and Alex asked for a bag of ice from the kitchen. At first the lunch-lady was going to refuse, then Alex put his hands on his hips and said, “My mom fell down and got hurt on the treasure hunt. Give me some ice now, or I’ll tell my dad!” I thought he was kind of rude, but the lunch lady’s eyes got round and she hurried to shovel ice into a plastic bag.
Back at the tent, Mr. Falcon wrapped the ice in a towel and put it on Mommy’s hip. I coul
