Origin by Jessica Khoury Page A

as he brushes flakes of Styrofoam into a wastebasket. “I guess when I was nine. I went out with Dr. Sato for an hour or two to collect spiders.”
    “Nine!
That
young?” I sit up straight in indignation.
    “Things…” He stops, his mouth contorting into a wince. “Things were different then.”
    I do my best to quell my irritation at the unfairness of it. I have a different reason for asking the question. “You mean, before the Accident?”
    “Yes.”
    “So have you ever seen any of the people who live in the jungle?”
    “Natives?” He shrugs. “A few times. Why?”
    “What are they like?”
    “They keep to themselves, unless we’re trading.” He frowns. “Wait. I don’t know if Paolo wants me to tell you all this.”
    “Forget Uncle Paolo,” I say. “Tell me more.”
    He shakes his head guardedly. “I think I better not.”
    “Uncle
Will
—”
    “Pia, please.” His eyes scrunch pleadingly. “Let’s just get on with the lesson, okay?”
    I watch him silently as he sorts several plastic boxes of specimens, wondering if he ever dared sneak out like I did. Would he even tell me if he had? No. He’s too timid, too lost in his world of titan beetles and army ants. I can’t imagine him cheating at checkers, much less sneaking out of Little Cam and into Ai’oa.
    Maybe Uncle Will won’t answer all my questions…but I’m fairly certain now that Eio’s not my brother.
    To my surprise, I realize I’m smiling.
    After my time with Uncle Will is up, I go out and discover that the rain is coming down in sheets, battering the gardens and making the fishpond overflow. A goldfish has been swept out onto the path, where it flops feebly in an inch of water. Idart through the rain and scoop it up, then toss it back into the pond.
    Clarence and Mick are in the courtyard, wearing yellow ponchos and picking up the remnants of last night’s party. Bits of uneaten fruit, napkins, and dropped silverware litter the ground, mixed with leaves and branches blown down by the storm. I bow my head against the rain and hurry past them, glad the task didn’t fall to me. By the time I reach my house, I’m completely soaked.
    After I change and dry my hair, I shut the door and spread out on the floor in front of the glass wall facing the jungle. My head is propped on Alai’s side, and his purring vibrates through me. The few patches of sky I can see are colored charcoal with clouds, and the rain shakes the leaves of the trees as roughly as any wind. Though my wall is partially sheltered by the overhang of the roof, wet trails of water still streak the glass. Through them the world outside seems like the other end of a kaleidoscope, multiplied and magnified in an explosion of green and black and brown.
    A quiet knock at my door reminds me that I didn’t put my dirty laundry out for Aunt Nénine this morning. I open the door and find her standing with a huge, dripping umbrella in one hand.
    “Sorry, Aunt Nénine,” I mutter, racing around my room to pick up everything in need of washing. When I pull my party dress from under the bed, I gape at the mess it’s in. Mud, leaves, and two or three tears are plain evidence of my night out. It hadn’t seemed that bad last night, but then, I was too overwhelmed by what I’d done to really notice.
    It’s too late; Aunt Nénine has seen it.
    “Pia! What have you done to your beautiful dress?” she gasps, taking it from me and inspecting it with dismay. She slips her finger through a tear and shakes her head. “I can mend it, but it will take several washes to clean.”
    “I…” My mind is utterly blank.
    “Did you not think, Pia, before running off to the menagerie in this? See what that jaguar’s claws have done?” She clicks her tongue disapprovingly.
    “Oh…of course. The menagerie!” I sag with relief and play it as repentance. “I’m sorry, Aunt Nénine. I guess I didn’t think.”
    “I’ll see what I can do,” she sighs as she shuffles out, my laundry in