The Park Service: book One of the Park Service Trilogy (2012)

Cover The Park Service: book One of the Park Service Trilogy
As if answering the call, a super moon rises above the bluff and casts its silver spotlight down on the cove.
“I’m nervous,” Jimmy whispers.
“Me too,” I say, my hands covering my nakedness.
Aunt Salinas blows the shell again, the men begin dancing around the fire, their twisted shadows cast onto the sand. They howl and scream, clouds of breath rising like ghosts against the dark sky. Then they stop. In the sudden silence, I can hear the children giggling from their tent flaps behind us.
“You’s
...better go to sleep,” Jimmy hisses at them. Then he turns back to me. “Sure ya wanna do this? Ya dun’ have to.”
“I know, but if you’re doing it, I’m doing it.”
The men stand at the fire, waiting. Their heads hung, their arms crossed. The women circle around them. Then they begin to wail, their arms flailing about, their voices riding the night. When they finish, they kneel on the ground, creating a pathway between us and the men at the fire.
Jimmy and I step up, stripped and trembling.
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