Chapter Six

I, Amber Brown, am so happy. I just got the last stamp on my Frequent Dumpling Card. That means that the next time we go to Charlie Woo’s Happy Panda Chinese Restaurant, I get my dumplings free.

On the Saturdays I’m not with Dad, Mom, Max, and I like to have dim sum at Happy Panda. It’s my favorite meal. You don’t even have to order. They just keep wheeling dumplings around. You choose as many as you want . . . . . and there are so many different kinds!

Mom is using her chopsticks to pick up a shrimp dumpling.

Max and I hate chopsticks, so we use forks. Well, mostly. Sometimes I use my fingers. So does Max . . . . but only when Mom’s not looking.

Mom puts down her chopsticks. “What shall we do this afternoon?”

“It’s a beautiful day,” Max says. “Let’s take a drive.”

I can’t believe how lucky I am. This is the perfect opening. “Can I choose where we go? Oh please, oh please, oh please!”

I, Amber Brown, am very good at pleading.

It helps that Mom and Max are still feeling guilty because I have been so upset about their fight and about the tiny wedding.

I see Max smiling. I can tell he is about to say yes when Mom stops him.

“Max, you can’t tell Amber something like that without setting a limit. Trust me on this. Next thing you know, she’ll have us driving to Alabama to see Justin.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. What a great idea!”

“See what I mean?”

Max is laughing. “Okay, Amber . . . . . anyplace you want to go within . . . . . hmmmmm, within forty miles.”

That worries me because I’m not sure how far it is to Sukkatukket Pond.

“So where are we going?” Mom wants to know.

“You’ll see. I’m going to program it into Max’s GPS.”

Mom smiles. “Little Miss Mystery.”

That’s a new name for me. I like it.

We go to the car. “All right,” I say, “you two stay out here while I program Adrianne.”

Max named his GPS Adrianne after his aunt because she’s always telling him where to go.

“Okay,” Mom says. “Only don’t take too long. It’s a beautiful day, but it’s pretty chilly.”

In the car I pull the brochure out of my coat pocket. It does take me a long time to punch in Sukkatukket Pond. But I’m relieved to find out that it’s only twenty-one miles away.

“Ready!” I shout.

I ask Mom to sit in the backseat since I am in control. Well, me and Adrianne.

Max turns around to Mom. “Relax and enjoy the ride, honey. And don’t worry. Wherever Adrianne takes us, she can get us home.”

It really is a beautiful day. The sky is clear, and the sun sparkles on the patches of snow still left on the ground. We pass some farms. Then Adrianne tells us to turn onto a narrow road that goes through a forest.

Max starts singing, “And did we ever return, no, we never returned!”

“Amber, are you sure you know where we’re going?” Mom sounds nervous.

“Sure,” I say . . . though I am starting to wonder myself.

I wonder even more when we turn onto a bumpy dirt road.

Finally Adrianne chirps. “Destination three hundred yards ahead on the right.”

“Whew,” Max says. “That’s a relief.”

Mom reads the sign: WELCOME TO CAMP SUKKATUKKET. “Amber, is this really where you wanted us to go?”

“Yep. It belongs to one of my friends from school. His dad came to tell us about it, and I’ve been wanting to see it ever since.”

The part about friends is kind of a white lie . . . . . Fredrich and I aren’t really friends . . . . . I’ve seen him knuckle-deep in his nose too many times for that. But at least we know each other.

In February, Camp Sukkatukket doesn’t look anywhere near as good as it does in the brochure. The driveway is muddy and rutty. Just inside the gate is a small building with a sagging roof and boarded-up windows. The sign says CHECK IN HERE . . . . . but it looks more like a place to check out.

I start to wonder if my great idea is really so great.

Mom is starting to look nervous. “I don’t think we should go any farther. Aren’t we trespassing?”

“Fredrich’s dad said they are up here every weekend,” I tell her. “I want to say hi to Fredrich.”

Another little white lie.

We drive on, going slow because of the mud and ruts. The trees are all bare, though I suppose that’s not their fault. We come to the parking lot. It’s empty except for an SUV and two big Dumpsters. Not pretty.

Then we see the pond and it is pretty. The sun is sparkling on the water.

I like sparkles. I feel better. We hear hammering and look toward the sounds. Fredrich and his dad are working on the cabin porch.

“We’d better let them know we’re here,” Mom says.

I get a little nervous about my great plan. What’s Fredrich going to do when he sees me?

I find out. When Fredrich spots us, he drops his hammer and starts hopping on one foot.

I guess I know where the hammer landed.

Fredrich’s father waves to us and comes down the cabin steps.

Max waves back. “Hi. We were out for a drive and Amber wanted us to come see your camp.”

“I remember you, Amber,” says Mr. Allen. “You’re in Fredrich’s class.”

Fredrich’s dad smiles, but Fredrich is staring at me with his mouth open.

“Hi, Fredrich,” I say. “Nice to see you.”

Another little white lie.

Fredrich comes off the porch and stands next to his dad.

“Let me show you around,” Mr. Allen says. “The place is a little muddy right now, but it will look a lot better come spring.”

We walk along a path with cabins on each side. He takes us into one. It’s nicer on the inside than it looks from the outside.

Mom smiles. “This is cozy.”

I take this as a good sign.

Next we walk to a big wooden building. “This is Sukkatukket Lodge,” Mr. Allen says proudly. “It’s our main building. The dining hall is here, and also our big function room. We call it the Grand Salon. It has a stage, and in summer we have dances every Wednesday and Saturday night. And, of course, we’re famous for the sunset view from the Sukkatukket Verandah.”

He takes us to the verandah . . . . . I’d call it a porch . . . . . a really big porch. It is wider than our living room and stretches all the way across the front of the lodge.

Mom looks out at the pond. “This is lovely.”

Luckily she isn’t looking at Fredrich. He has his finger in his nose. No surprise to me. I expected it earlier.

His dad swats his arm and says in a low voice, “Do you want me to make you start wearing gloves again?”

Fredrich blushes and pulls his hand away from his nose. He puts his hand in his pocket.

I try to pretend that I didn’t hear his dad, but I can tell Fredrich knows I did.

Normally I would wonder if he had a booger in his pocket.

Today, I just feel a little sorry for him.