Free Fox Girl by Nora Okja Keller Page A

to the kitchen. I lifted the book bag from her shoulder and pushed her into a chair. “Sit. Time to eat.”
    Swinging my bag onto the table, I sprawled into the chair next to hers and sifted through worksheets and notebooks for the eggs. I fingered the shattered shells, testing their rubbery bodies, then plucked them out. “See what I have for you?” I presented them to Sookie with a flourish, as if they were jewels.
    She didn’t smile. She stared at the eggs and, hands shaking, accepted my gift. Bringing them to her nose, she sniffed at the eggs, then placed one on the table. The other, she cupped in both palms and began to peel, rubbing her thumbs against the bits of shell that fell onto the table. When the egg looked clean and naked as a newborn, she held her palm up, offering it back to me.
    I shook my head. “No, you eat it,” I told her. “I’m not hungry.”
    â€œLiar,” she said. “I heard your stomach rumble.”
    â€œReally, eat it,” I said. “I brought them both for you.”
    â€œThank you.” She smiled, not at me but at the shivering egg, and bit. She ate the white first, exposing with each nibble the heart, until she held the marble of yolk between her fingers. After examining its perfection, she popped the yolk into her mouth. She sucked on it like it was candy, closing her eyes to savor the richness.
    My stomach grumbled again. As I watched her peel the second egg, I decided that if she offered this one, I would eat it. She didn’t. I couldn’t watch her eat the last egg. Instead, I went to the kitchen for water. When I opened the cabinet for a cup, I found an American package. Blue with a picture of some kind of spotted biscuits and the words Chips Ahoy. I shook the bag, heard the rattle of a few biscuits left.
    Without dropping the package, I opened the other cabinet and found more things American: an empty carton decorated with pictures of oranges; two tins with pictures of miniature hot dogs; a small, yellow-checkered bottle with no picture so I didn’t know what it was; thick white envelopes that contained what felt like ground herbs. American herbs, I thought, were surely much better than the Koran weeds I had been forced to drink.
    Clutching the secret stash against my chest, I confronted Sookie, who was still sucking on the last of my egg. I threw the food onto the table, screeching, “What’s this?”
    Her mouth opened, revealing a creamy mash of pale yellow.
    Anger rolled over me, exploded in my head like Sookie’s colors. “All this time I been feeding you with food out of my own mouth! I’ve been starving and you’ve been feasting on American treats!”
    Sookie swallowed, quickly licking the last of the yolk from her teeth. “I’m not, I haven’t—”
    â€œYou’ve kept it secret.” I glared at her until she looked away.
    â€œI was trying to save them until my mother got home,” she said. Her voice quivered.
    I shook the biscuit bag in her face. “It doesn’t seem like you saved very much.”
    â€œI got hungry,” she said, pushing her bottom lip out.
    â€œBut I’ve been feeding you every day!” I said, indignant. At that moment, I conveniently forgot the days I had neglected to bring her anything to eat. “You should have shared these with me like I’ve been sharing with you.” I ripped open the blue bag. Reaching to the bottom, I pulled out a small, broken cookie flecked with chocolate. “In fact, you’re going to share with me now.” I gobbled up the cookie, then reached into the bag for a handful of crumbs to stuff into my mouth.
    Sookie watched me with solemn, mournful eyes. “Chipusa-Hoi ku-ki,” she announced.
    â€œWha?” I mumbled, trying to work my tongue around the mass in my mouth.
    â€œThat’s the name of that cookie,” she explained. Sookie lined up the rest of the