Free Numbers Ignite by Rebecca Rode Page B

quadrants, a really big deal. Dale always makes this apple tarts, and they’re hot and sweet and absolutely amazing.” He paused. “Are you listening?”
    I barely heard him in the heaviness of my thoughts. I had a desert to cross. These people already thought I was a criminal. If it came to it, I could always steal some supplies and leave. Nobody would be surprised.
    “Amy.”
    “Hmm?” I asked, trying to recall what he had said. “Oh. Apple tarts. Got it.”
    Coltrane sighed.
    Maybe I was going about this school thing all wrong. An idea formed in my mind. “Can we stop by Ruby’s on the way back?”
    Coltrane shrugged. “Sure, why?”
    Because she was an elder. Because she was kind, and she’d offered help if I ever needed it. But mostly because Ruby was the only person down here I could relate to, and I desperately needed her advice if this school idea was going to work. “Let’s see if she’s been baking.”
    Coltrane grinned. “You make me proud.”

 
     
     
     

     
    Not only did Ruby approve of my school idea, but she told me to come back in the morning with a lesson plan.
    “Your students will be waiting,” she said as she handed me a pan of sweet rolls.
    Ruby was true to her word. When Coltrane and I entered Ruby’s dwelling the next day, four children were seated on the center rug, two girls and two boys. Mandie was one of them, and she grinned. The other kids’ eyes widened at the sight of my forehead.
    I looked up at Ruby, who hovered over the children like a proud parent. “I watch these kids each day while their parents are working. Last night I told those stubborn moms and dads that if a digit could watch them, another digit could teach them, and if they threw a fit about it, I’d be done tending forever. So here we are.”
    I chuckled, picturing that in my mind. “Hello, class,” I said, setting down my supplies to sit with them on the rug. “I’m Amy. I’m so glad you came.”
    “Do you really get to teach us?” Mandie asked, her knees bouncing in her excitement.
    “Why are people from NORA called digits?” a girl with brown skin and black braids asked. “Oh, I’m Clara, by the way.”
    “I’d guess it’s because we wear numbers,” I told her.
    “What are they for?”
    “Because they’re playing a game,” Mandie told her knowingly. “My mom says there’s only one winner and lots of losers.”
    “Why did you leave? Is it because you lost?” Clara asked.
    Coltrane cleared his throat and found a chair. I just gave them a grim smile. “I couldn’t stay there anymore. It was time to find a new life.”
    “So you’re going to stay here, then?” Mandie asked. “My mom says you should go back where you came from, but I hope you don’t.”
    “I—”
    “Have you felt rain?” one of the boys said shyly. “My mom says she felt it once.”
    “Do they have rain in South America?” Mandie asked. “Maxim says the drought is really bad here, but only here. He wants us to move. Maxim says in Europe everything’s green and they have tall, skinny houses above the ground.”
    I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure. Why don’t we start with reading—”
    The questions kept coming. “What are NORA schools like?” “Have you ever flown in a helicopter?” “Do they have oatmeal there?” “Have you ever seen a horse?”
    I looked to Ruby for help, but she shrugged and turned away, heading for her kitchen in the corner. I was on my own.
    “Students,” I said sharply, and the questions cut off abruptly. “I’d love to answer your questions, but we have a lot to do today. Raise your hand if you can read.”
    They looked at me blankly. Mandie raised her hand.
    “Okay,” I told her. “How do you spell run ?”
    “R-E-N. But I’m serious about the horse thing. My mom showed me a picture once, and it was super big when you stand it next to a person. Horses used to pull carriages hundreds of years ago, when the women wore dresses in Europe. That’s where the