Can You Say Catastrophe? Page 6

  That’s an image I didn’t need. No one wants to see their dad with his hands around a sewage hose waiting for it to drain.

  And it gets worse. When Dad was done, he washed off his gloves and said he was saving them for next time. I’m horribly grossed out. I’m also completely unclear as to why my parents thought this trip would bring me closer to my family.

  I’ve never wanted to get farther away!

  Sunday morning, June 30, 8:45 A.M.

  Going to Florida is every kid’s dream, but to be honest, I don’t get the attraction. For the past two days, all we’ve done is look at old stuff in St. Augustine, which Mom says is the oldest city in America. We saw an old school. An old house. An old fort. An old museum. An old jail. An old cemetery. They even have people here who dress up in old clothes to make you feel like you’re taking a trip back in time.

  May and June were taking a bunch of pictures, and they actually thought it was fun seeing everything. But I didn’t. Which part of teenagers-are-into-new-stuff don’t my parents understand? It seems like Mom and Dad made me come on this trip so our family could “re-bond,” yet they’ve planned nothing in the way of activities that I feel has been helpful to this process.

  I don’t get it. They’re so weird (my parents), and they made such weird children (my sisters), and they make such weird choices (purposely taking a vacation to the oldest city in America).

  I sincerely hope this trip improves, and SOON!

  8:30 P.M.

  Just finished another day of sightseeing

  I’d like to write that today was fun, but it wasn’t. We went to an alligator farm, a pirate museum, and to see the Fountain of Youth. When the guy who works at the fountain asked if I’d like to taste the water, I said what I’d really like was a Diet Snapple. Mom and Dad failed to see the humor. I thought it was funny, and for just a minute it made me stop thinking about Brynn and Billy and what they’re doing at camp without me, which is what I’d been thinking about pretty much the whole day.

  We leave tomorrow for Disney World, which I hope will be more fun than where we’ve been. (It won’t be hard to beat.)

  It alwayS looks darkest before it getS totally black.

  —Charlie Brown

  Monday, July 1

  In the parking lot of Disney World

  The good news: We made it to Disney World.

  The bad news: The bottom fell out the minute we arrived. The bottom of the Clunker literally fell out and bits and pieces of it are all over the Disney World parking lot. When it was happening, I thought there was an earthquake. I’m not sure if they have earthquakes in Florida (and I definitely didn’t think they have them at Disney World), but what they do have here is a lot of sunshine and heat. We’ve been standing in it for over two hours waiting for the mechanic to get here. While throngs of other people are going into amusement parks filled with countless fun things to do, we’re stuck in a parking lot.

  Monday, July 1, 10:30 P.M.

  At the Contemporary Hotel

  Official worst day of my life

  I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it. Today was truly the worst day of my life. I didn’t think things could get any worse on this trip, but they did. They got much worse.

  Here’s what happened.

  While we were waiting in the parking lot for the mechanic to arrive, Dad finally decided that it was stupid for all of us to be standing there, so Mom took May and June and me into the Magic Kingdom while Dad stayed back to deal with the Clunker.

  Inside the Magic Kingdom, we went on a bunch of rides, and Mom bought May and June matching hats with Mickey Mouse ears on them. They were excited about their hats, but all I could think about was how everything we were doing was too babyish for me. It seemed like once again, Mom was just thinking about May and June and not what I would like.

  By dinnertime, Dad was still dealing with the Clunker, so Mom took us to get something to eat. We’d just finished dinner and were walking around Main Street when Mom’s cell phone rang. It was Dad calling to tell her what was going on with the Clunker, so Mom asked me if I would take May and June into the gift shop and watch them while she was on the phone with Dad. What was going through my head was that I didn’t know why we had to come all the way to Florida for me to babysit my sisters, when that’s what I’ve been doing all summer at home. After everything that happened today, it makes me sick that that’s what I was thinking.

  Anyway, I took May and June into the gift shop, and I started looking for presents for Brynn and Billy. I didn’t know if Billy was going to want a present from me, but I figured I’d better get him one just in case. And I definitely needed to get something for Brynn. I started looking in the jewelry aisle, and I told May and June to stay there with me. There was a lot to look at, and I guess I got kind of caught up in looking for the right gifts, because the next time I looked up, there was no sign of May or June anywhere.

  I told myself to stay calm. They had to be somewhere nearby. I started looking all over the gift store. I was calling out their names, but no one answered. I felt a knot forming in my stomach. They were nowhere in the gift shop.

  I knew I needed to stay calm, but I was starting to feel way too hot. Everything around me seemed to be getting blurry. I had to find my sisters. Even though Mom was the last person I wanted to find out that I’d lost May and June, I knew I had to find her.

  I went out of the gift store and saw Mom sitting on a bench. She was still on her phone. I could feel beads of sweat running down my face as I walked towards her. When I told her I couldn’t find May and June, the look on her face was the worst I’ve ever seen.

  “April, you were supposed to be watching your sisters!” Mom looked like she was going to be sick. I felt sick too. One minute my sisters were right beside me, and the next minute they were gone, and it was my fault.

  Mom grabbed my arm, and we started running up and down Main Street looking for May and June. We were calling their names, but there was no sign of them anywhere.

  It was terrible. Main Street was jam-packed with people. We could hardly see around the crowds. A few times I thought I saw May and June in their Mickey Mouse ears, but it was other little kids in the same hats. Other kids, other sisters, who were safe with their families and having fun.

  As we pushed past people, yelling for my sisters, everyone was looking at us like they felt sorry for us, like no one would want to lose a kid among all these thousands of people. I didn’t think it was possible, but their looks made me feel even worse.

  A security officer heard us yelling and came over to help. He asked us all kinds of questions. Names. Clothing. Interests. He wanted to know everything about May and June. Mom was showing him pictures on her cell phone of what they look like.

  It was starting to get dark.

  The security officer called a bunch of other security officers and they all spread out, calling May and June’s names. I started crying. Everyone was yelling and looking.

  My sisters were lost and it was because I wasn’t watching them when I should have been. I was trying to stay focused on the search, but my brain was thinking so many horrible thoughts. What if something terrible happened to my sisters? What if someone bad took them? What if they wandered into the inner workings of one of the rides and got hurt? What if we never found them? What if I ended up as an only child?

  I kept looking at Mom, who was a weird shade of white and more serious than I’d ever seen her. I couldn’t bear to think about how my parents would feel if something happened to May and June.

  Mom and I kept looking in all the restaurants and shops on Main Street. There was so much Disney paraphernalia everywhere, but the only thing I wanted to see were my sisters’ little faces.

  It felt like we had been looking for so long, and my brain was completely filled with the fear that they were lost for good.

  Mom and I had just looked for the third time inside an old-fashioned ice-cream shop when I heard someone screaming my name from the street. I
ran outside, and there was June sitting on May’s shoulders, screaming my name. At first I wondered if I was seeing things, but as they walked toward me in their Mickey Mouse ears, I knew it was real. Mom and I ran over to them and hugged them both. The security officers came over to make sure everyone was OK.

  Normally, I would have gotten mad at them for leaving the gift shop and not listening to me when I told them to stay near me, but I was so happy to see them both that all I could do was hug them and cry. Mom was crying too. Neither one of us could stop until June told us it was her idea for May to put June on her shoulders so she could see over the crowd and find me. Then May gave us a demonstration of how she bent down so June could climb on her shoulders, and how she used all of her strength to stand up. I hugged them both really tight again. I told June I was proud of her for coming up with such a smart idea, and I told May I was proud of her for being so strong.

  The rest of the evening was a blur. We went to a hotel where Dad had gotten us rooms because, as he said, “The Clunker is officially dead. R.I.P.”

  I spent most of tonight apologizing for what happened and for not watching May and June more closely. But the truth is, my apologies feel worthless when I think what could have happened to my sisters. Mom and Dad had a very long talk with me about responsibility, kind of like the Winn-Dixie day talk, although this one was different because I agreed with everything they said. I told them there’s no punishment they could give me that would be worse than the idea of something bad having happened to my sisters. And I meant it.

  I’m just glad they’re safe. It’s been a long day and I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad to be going to sleep in a room with my sisters. And I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t particularly glad this room is air-conditioned.

  Wednesday, July 3, 4:17 P.M.

  In our room

  Two days. Four parks. Five roller coasters. One safari. A jungle trek. A musical. And too many other rides, pins, and autographs to even count. My brain is fried, but in a good way.

  Dad just came back to the room. He was in the lobby for a long time renting a car and booking hotel rooms for the rest of our trip.

  He seemed very tired, so I offered to take May and June to the lobby to buy some candy and babysit while he and Mom take a nap. He said to keep a close eye on them.

  I assured him that would not be a problem.

  6:17 P.M.

  A fun afternoon with my sisters!

  Did I just write that? I did!

  It feels totally strange to write that I had a good time with my sisters, but I actually did. And I’m not saying that just because I feel bad (which I still do) about losing them the other day.

  When May and June and I went to the lobby to buy candy, May saw some kids throwing Jelly Bellies at each other and decided we should too. I said it sounded like fun, and June said it would be even more fun if we did it from a high floor in our hotel, which has hallways around each floor and a big, open atrium in the middle with lots of people wandering around in the lobby below.

  So May and June and I bought a bag of Jelly Bellies and went up to the 5th floor and started throwing them at people in the lobby. Every time we’d throw a Jelly Belly and hit somebody, we’d duck down behind the balcony ledge so no one in the lobby would know where the Jelly Bellies were coming from, and then we’d laugh hysterically. In addition to having super-human strength, May also has amazing aim, so she did most of the throwing. She didn’t throw hard enough to hurt anybody, but it was enough to make them jump.

  I know throwing Jelly Bellies at people is wrong, and I feel badly saying this, but laughing and throwing Jelly Bellies at people with my sisters was a lot of fun.

  When we finished, we sat down on the floor of the hallway and fed each other the rest of the Jelly Bellies and tried to guess the flavors. After that, I took May and June to the pool at our hotel, and then we went on the Monorail, an elevated train that took us all over Disney World. It was amazing. We could see the parks and rides and hotels and people out the window.

  When we got back to our hotel, May and June held my hands on the way back to the room. It was like a really cheesy moment from a made-for-TV movie where something bad happens to a family then everyone gets really close. But the truth is … it was sweet.

  Happy July 4!

  9:15 A.M.

  Cinderella’s Castle

  We just ate breakfast at Cinderella’s castle. June waited around for a really long time to get Cinderella’s autograph, and when she got it, she gave it to me and said she wanted me to have it.

  Honestly, I really don’t care about Cinderella’s autograph, but I knew how much it meant to June. So I told her we could keep it in a safe place in her room and that it would belong to both of us.

  Mom told me she was proud of me for handling the situation in such a mature way.

  It was weird to hear her say that. But weird in a good way.

  Well, I must be off for another amusing day. Ha! Amusement parks. Amusing. Sometimes I crack myself up.

  10:55 P.M.

  In our room

  Fun day

  Lots of rides

  Lots of fireworks

  Tonight we saw the biggest, most awesome fireworks show ever. There was red, white, and blue everywhere you looked. It had music, too.

  I hate to say it, but it was even bigger and more awesome than the fireworks over Silver Lake at camp.

  Whoa … camp. Fireworks. Friends. My brain hadn’t thought about all that for what feels like a long time. I don’t think there was anything good about losing my little sisters on vacation, but it did make me forget about all the stuff I’m usually obsessed with.

  Even though part of me can’t help thinking about Billy and Brynn and wondering what’s going on at camp without me, part of me is glad to be where I am.

  Friday, July 5, 10:45 P.M.

  In our room

  Last night at Disney World

  Another fun day of rides and slides. We went to a water park called Blizzard Beach that was so cool. Literally. It was like being in a blizzard and at the beach at the same time. We went down a bunch of water slides, and we went rafting and tobogganing too. We even got to go on a chair-lift like the kind they have at ski resorts.

  May kept trying to pick people up when they came off the chair lift. When she started doing it, I told her to stop because it was embarrassing. Then I decided to let her do whatever she wanted because I didn’t know anyone anyway. The funny thing is that when I stopped telling her not to pick people up, she stopped picking people up.

  Tonight is our last night here. Tomorrow morning, we leave for the Florida Keys to go snorkeling for four days. I have to admit that what started out as the worst trip ever has had its moments. And by that, shockingly, I mean good ones.

  Don’t tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint of light on broken glass.

  —Anton Chekov

  Tuesday, July 9, 5:45 P.M.

  Key Largo, Florida

  In a hammock

  On the beach

  I can’t believe we’ve been snorkeling in the Florida Keys for the last four days. And what I really can’t believe is that we have to go home tomorrow.

  It’s too bad because I like it here.

  I’d like it a whole lot more if Dad would stop saying annoying stuff like, “It’s so nice to have the old April back.” And, “I knew this trip was a good idea.”

  But whatever. I’d never snorkeled before this trip, and it’s definitely one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. If I was old enough to drive (and if I had a car), I’d get a bumper sticker that says I LOVE SNORKELING.

  The first day we got here, Mom and Dad bought us a bunch of equipment for snorkeling. Masks. Snorkels. Fins. Mom made a video of May and June and me trying out our equipment on the beach. I knew we looked funny walking around like we couldn’t find the ocean, but I didn’t care. I put on the fins and mask and pretended like I was a sea monster and chased June around the beach. She was laughing so har
d. It was really funny.

  Once we got the hang of how the equipment worked, we practiced snorkeling in shallow water. We learned how to breathe through the snorkel and float on our stomachs with fins on.

  Then we practiced diving under the surface of the water. We started off still in shallow water. You could see fish and plants under the water that you would never know existed if you hadn’t looked under the surface. But snorkeling near the shore couldn’t compare to the snorkeling we did during the rest of the trip.

  For the last three days, we’ve gotten to go on snorkel boats and explore the only living coral barrier reef in North America.

  The first day we went, the boat captain gave us a quick course on what to do. He gave us some rules: Don’t feed the fish. Don’t touch the coral. If you see sea turtles or dolphins, don’t touch them.

  Then he taught us some hand signals to use under water. Stuff like: I’ve had enough and I’m doing fine.

  He said we’d also be doing a lot of signaling for other people to take a look at the cool stuff we’d be seeing. And he was right. What I’ve seen under water is so completely cool—tons of tropical coral formations, and underwater plants, and all kinds of colorful fish.

  Our boat captain told us we were seeing the third largest coral reef in the world, and that the corals had been there for 5,000 to 7,000 years.

  When I was in St. Augustine, I didn’t like looking at things that were hundreds of years old. Change of opinion: old stuff can be pretty cool after all.

  Seeing everything underwater was amazing, but the best part about being under the surface of the ocean was how it felt to be part of an underwater world that I never knew existed. It seemed incredible that I spend every day at school, in my room, hanging out with my friends … while there’s a whole other world filled with things that had been there for thousands of years that I didn’t know about before this trip.