Colonial Madness by Jo Whittemore

can be such a—”
    â€œCaleb,” said Mom.
    â€œNo,” I said. “Such a pain .”
    â€œNo.” Mom grabbed my shoulders and spun me around.
    Caleb was staring right at me. Me and my now-snaggled poufy do.
    I froze with hands in my hair like a baboon.
    Caleb sauntered over with an amused grin. “You two are the loudest fire starters I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Minus the fire. Show me your technique.”
    Mom placed the flint close to the straw, not my head , and struck it while I blew on the sparks.
    â€œThat’s pretty good,” said Caleb. “But let me show you how it might work better.”
    He demonstrated, making smoke curl up before sprinkling it with dirt to extinguish it.
    â€œNow you try.”
    Mom and I did until, lo and behold, a tiny wisp of smoke climbed skyward.
    â€œWoohoo!” I shouted. Unfortunately, I was still lying right beside the pile of straw, and our speck of a fire went out.
    I refused to glance in Mom’s direction.
    She cleared her throat. “Thanks for the help, Caleb. I’m sure Typhoon Tori and I can manage from here.”
    He laughed. “Everyone gets excited about their first fire. Don’t blame her.”
    I continued to lie where I was, blushing. “Thanks, Caleb.”
    He nodded and smiled. “I’ll see you around, Tori,” he said, walking off to help someone else.
    Mom nudged me. “He came to your defense,” she whispered. “So knight-in-shining-armor!”
    â€œI guess,” I said with an eye roll. But my insides were doing a happy dance. “Let’s get this fire started.” I didn’t want to make Caleb feel like he’d wasted his time.
    Instead of hunkering down, Mom stood up and brushed off her dress.
    â€œYou work on the fire while I check out the competition,” she said.
    I goggled at her. “Are you serious? We shouldn’t even care how they’re doing until we can build ours.”
    â€œI have faith in you. Besides,” Mom said with a wink, “if you mess up, it’ll give Caleb an excuse to come by.”
    I mulled this over. “Maybe you should check out the competition.”
    Mom grinned. “Be back soon.”
    At the station beside ours, Dylan and Uncle Max already had a nice fire going. When Dylan saw me looking, he inclined his head and threw his arms open wide.
    â€œWho’s the champ?” he bellowed.
    â€œMore like ‘who’s the chimp’?” I muttered, returning to my fire.
    While I battled with the flint, an Angel-shaped shadow blocked out the sun.
    â€œPlease tell me you’re burning an offering to the god who destroys boy cousins.”
    â€œLord Dylan Killer?” I asked with a smirk. “No, I’m actually trying to start a fire.”
    Angel kicked at the pile of straw. “Haven’t you had enough practice? How many fires have you made already?”
    I rocked back onto my heels. “To me, it’s more about getting a feel— ”
    â€œSo, zero.”
    â€œYeah, we may have set civilization back a thousand years.” I swiped at the flint with my knife. “I don’t get how this can be so difficult.”
    â€œUse the filings.” Angel borrowed my flint, but instead of striking it, she used the blade to saw off silvery dust that coated the hay. “Try it now.”
    I gave her a dubious look but did so, creating sparks and . . . fire!
    Being careful not to shout it out of existence, I bent low and coaxed the flame to life with my breath.
    â€œTa-da!” said Angel.
    â€œThat’s amazing,” I said, watching the straw shrivel andbrown under the extreme heat. “Why didn’t Caleb mention it?”
    â€œBecause he probably doesn’t watch YouTube,” said Angel with a smirk. “Like I said, I did a little research before we got here.”
    â€œWell, thanks,” I said. “And if there’s