Location: 35,000 feet above Ohio
Population: 347 passengers, 23 flight attendants, 2 pilots, 1 yapping Chihuahua in the carrier under the seat behind me
Miles Driven: 0
Days of Torment: 1
“In the event of an emergency landing, your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device,” the flight attendant announced as we took off.
I wanted to raise my hand. I have an emergency, I would have said.
I’m on the wrong plane.
On the wrong trip.
In the wrong family.
Stuck in the wrong summer.
Just lend me a parachute, I would have said, and I’ll get out of your way.
I used to like airplanes. The taking-off part was fun, like a lame amusement park ride. The food was gross, but there was always dessert—cookies or pretzels or candy bars—and, unlike at home, I was allowed to have as much as I wanted. There were people to eavesdrop on, bad movies to watch, and, if I was lucky, a pair of gold wings that I could pin to my backpack. It was pretty much the greatest thing ever.
At least, that’s what I thought when I was a kid.
Turns out I was kind of a dumb kid.
Don’t get me wrong. The plane wasn’t the problem. Not the whole problem, at least. Yes, it smelled like BO. Yes, lunch was two pieces of stale bread with watery mustard smushed between them. (There was no way I was going to eat any of the other stuff they gave us.) Yes, the Chihuahua in the carrying case shoved under the seat behind me Would. Not. Stop. Barking. But I could have handled all that. If we’d been flying somewhere acceptable. Like Hawaii. Or Florida.
Or home.
I closed my eyes, trying to imagine that.
If I were home, I’d be at the local pool, stretching out in the sun, wondering whether Lucas McKidd would notice my new purple bathing suit. Or I’d be figuring out what to wear on the first day of camp. A counselor-in-training had to look the part. I would make my best friends, Sam and Mina, come over and—
That’s where the fantasy cut off, like someone unplugged the power cord. Even if I were home, Sam and Mina wouldn’t be there. Mina was at art camp and Sam was at the beach. They were both away for the whole summer—just like me.
Location: Cheap-O Car Rental, Chicago, IL
Population: 2.8 million
Miles Driven: 0
Days of Torment: 1 (felt like 100)
There were a few small problems with the Great Gold Family Summer Vacation. For one thing, there was nothing great about it. For another, it wasn’t technically a Gold family vacation. At least, it wasn’t just the Gold family.
When I was little, we went on a lot of trips with my parents’ friends, the Kaplan-Novaks and the Schwebers. And now that family vacation was back, the Kaplan-Novaks and the Schwebers were back, too. And so were their kids.
We met them at the car rental place by the airport. The office was as old and crumbly as the guy behind the counter. While my parents filled out forms for our rental car, I grabbed a paper cup of lukewarm water and ducked outside. The Kaplan-Novaks were waiting. I hadn’t seen them in four years, but they were exactly like I remembered.
“Isn’t this awesome?” Dillie said to me right away.
I looked around. There were junky cars, tired tourists, heat waves rising from the black cement—but definitely no awesomeness. “Um, what?”
“This!” Dillie rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I’ve been so psyched for this trip. I can’t believe we get to go away for the whole summer. It’ll be just like the old days.” She tapped her backpack. “I spent the whole flight reading about Route 66. Like, did you know it crosses eight states and three time zones? And we’re going to see them all! Awesome, right?”
“Right. Totally.” I was starting to get that feeling in my stomach. Like last summer at the amusement park when I’d eaten one too many bags of cotton candy.
“Of course, Roswell—that’s Roswell, New Mexico, UFO capital of the world—it’s not actually on Route 66, but Naomi and Peter—that’s my mom and dad; I call them Naomi and Peter, or sometimes Professor Kaplan and Professor Novak, which is kind of a joke, except they don’t think it’s funny. Anyway, they promised we could take a side trip to Roswell. Won’t that be cool?”
You never know, Mina had told me at our “See Ya Soon” party. (Because best friends never say “good-bye.”) Maybe you’ll like them.
Yeah, Sam had added. You might decide to trade us in for new best friends.
You’ve got nothing to worry about, I thought, missing them already.