DreamWalker [Incomplete][On Hold]

XII- Jesus Saves, Literally

[Just so everyone knows, the title isn't meant as a religious statement. It gets explained in the chapter. :) ]

As it turns out, I ended up waking up a grand five minutes before Logan came in to get me up. Why? It was the rooster.

I had never actually been around a rooster for more than like twenty minutes, and that was just whenever I was forced to visit one of those dumb farms and petting zoos. However, I learned that what they say about the rooster crowing is no lie. Starting at around five in the morning, the rooster would crow like every five seconds. Yes, it was loud. Yes, it really sounded just like they make it sound in cartoons. It was possibly the most annoying sound I had ever heard, and it wouldn’t stop.

I guess the people living here got used to it, but I was really wishing I had earplugs. Right when I realized that I could put my iPod in to tune out the sound, Logan came in to get me up. As I was already awake, I told him that I’d be up on the roof in five minutes.

Once he was gone, I quickly changed and headed up to the roof. I doubted that even that stupid rooster would make this less magnificent.

Shortly after I arrived on the roof, the sky exploded into a million shades of orange and pink as the sun rose. A tiny part of me was tempted to start singing the Lion King, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t really want to have to explain to Logan why I was singing in an African language.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay up there forever, and even if we had, the sunrise only lasts so long. We had to get to the airport.

Thankfully, as we had only been here one night, my stuff wasn’t scattered, so it took only a few moments to get my stuff together. My dad’s friend, Richard, was downstairs, and offered to drive us to the airport, since it was harder for tap taps to get through all the traffic there.

Therefore, Logan and I got to ride back to Port-au-Prince in an air-conditioned truck, rather than an open-air truck bed with about fifteen other people we didn’t know.

My stress level went way up when we got to the airport. I'm one of those people who likes things to be organized and under control, which is pretty much the exact opposite of the Haiti airport. American airports stress me out enough as is, and this was worse.

Once we got into the airport, I was totally lost, as Logan was the one who knew where we were flying to. I figured it out quick enough, though.

"Brazil?" I asked. "Seriously?"

"You ever been to Rio?" He questioned.

"No way. I might know some French, but I'm not going to be any help with Portuguese."

He shrugged. "We'll figure something out."

"Please tell me you have some brilliant plan," I said.

"Nope."

"Joy." With my luck, we'd probably end up blowing something up.

"Yeah, it'll be fun," Logan told me, giving a small smirk before it turned into a grin.

I rolled my eyes. As long as the boy didn't get us killed, which he probably would.

And if he didn't, the cops would. We put fake info on the immigration forms again when we got on the plane, and I was sure that this time, someone would find out. Haiti might not have had the best system for checking those forms, but I had a feeling that Brazil would be more advanced.

"You done filling out those forms?" A flight attendant asked as she passed us.

"Yes," I replied, handing her our forms.