Chapter 11

Mr. Polvado helps us finish the entire floor of the tree house! Billy and I do all the hard work, of course.

Mr. Polvado also has us find twenty-eight rocks the size of bowling balls from the creek. While Billy and I gather these important rocks, Mr. Polvado secures and levels the flooring.

“Great work, boys,” Mr. Polvado says, after counting all twenty-eight rocks. “You couldn’t have picked better time-wasting rocks.”

I’m not sure what that means, but Sarah and Everley laugh pretty hard when Mr. Polvado says it. We never do put the rocks in the tree. I don’t really know what they’re for, but Mr. Polvado sure seems happy.

“We all should be heading home,” he finally says.

The sun is setting. We say goodbye to Sarah and Everley and call it a day. Actually, I call it a great day. But tomorrow will be even better. It’s the Fourth of July, and this year we’re heading to a Smiley family reunion. I better get a good night’s sleep.

✽

What feels like just a few hours later, Dad calls out, “Wake up, boys. We’re at the hotel!”

I peel my face off the backseat of our car. Looking up, I try to read the clock on the dashboard. We’re still on our screen-free week, so I don’t have my phone with me. The car clock is obviously wrong.

“That clock says it’s 7:42 a.m.,” I mumble.

“Oh, that’s wrong,” Dad says. “It’s 7:48. I know because I have a clock on my belt, even though . . . it’s a waist of time! Hahaha! Get it?”

I’m too tired to groan at my dad’s joke. I don’t know why my father likes to leave so early on road trips. I make a mental note to discuss this with him later in the day. Maybe after I’ve had a long nap or two.

I stumble bleary-eyed from the car and follow Dad to check in.

“Good morning,” the lady at the front desk says while yawning. “Check-in is not until eleven.”

I glare at my dad. “So we could have slept till nine and still arrived at eleven to check in?” I ask.

“I booked this hotel online because I read it has tons of things to do before we check in,” he replies. Dad emphasizes the word before (which is why it’s in italics). “We’ll have tons of fun!”

The front-desk lady and I both look puzzled.

What can you do in a hotel before you check in to your room? I wonder. Especially this hotel?

Did I mention that my dad likes to be frugal? If you Google the word frugal, you’ll discover it doesn’t mean “a fruit-loving girl.” It means that Dad likes to save money.

I’m sure he saved a ton by booking a room at The Rusty Nail Motel.

Now before I go on, I need to point out that Dad had been calling this a hotel. There’s a big difference between hotels and motels. Sort of like there’s a big difference between an Air Jordan basketball shoe and a rubber band poked through some cardboard. Sure, both can be used as footwear, but only one is worth paying for.

The Rusty Nail isn’t what I’d call a “top of the line” place to stay. Looking around, I’m not even sure I’d call it a “place to stay.” I think the rooms actually come with insect repellent and tetanus shots.

I glance around the lobby and see four chairs. There’s also a small table with a coffeepot on it. This coffeepot has evidently been used in a science experiment to demonstrate how to grow moss. A TV is mounted to the wall next to a stuffed deer head, but I know that’s off-limits for a couple more days. And the last time Brian and I used a deer head to play ring toss, the guy at the museum got mad.

“I see lots of things to do, Dad,” I joke. “We can easily kill three hours by sitting in a chair or . . . maybe sitting in another chair.”

After Dad chuckles for far too long, he says, “Well, first I’d like to find out when the fireworks start.”

“Oh, did the website say we’re having fireworks tonight?” the front-desk lady asks.

“It sure did!” Dad says. “So when does the ‘huge fireworks show’ begin?”

The front-desk lady frowns, reaches beneath the counter, and pulls out a small box. “It starts whenever ya’ll want to light up these sparklers.”

“But those aren’t sparklers,” I point out. “It’s a box of matches.”

“Yes, but they will sparkle in your eyes.”

Her sweet talk is effective. I can’t disagree. Mom always says my eyes sparkle. But I can tell that Dad is disappointed. He’s not happy with the exercise room either, which turns out to be the twenty-five-pound weight that’s propping open the door to the lobby.

“I read the hotel has a sauna,” Dad says. “Where is that located?”

“It’s summer, honey, and you’re in Texas,” the front-desk lady replies. “Just go outside. Instant sauna.”

“And the golf course?” Dad says, quickly losing hope.

“If you brought a putter and a ball, I have a few empty soup cans you can use in the parking lot.”

Dad’s frustration is about to boil over. He didn’t want to spend a lot of money, and he thought he’d found a real bargain online. I’m about to make a joke about a rusty nail when my mom and brother walk in. Mom is always super positive, so I know she’ll say something to raise Dad’s spirits.

“Boys, we aren’t here for the amenities,” she says. “We’re here for a family reunion. And I brought a board game we can play until our room is ready.”

She gives Dad a hug, which seems to perk him up. This doesn’t help my mood, however. I had no idea about motel amenities. I thought those were only found in the ocean.

Besides, I quickly think up a plan that might get us in our room a bit quicker.

“You guys go ahead,” I say. “I have something important I need to do first.”

The front-desk lady goes back to her job, which evidently is playing a game on her phone. Mom, Dad, and Brian start setting up the board game. I start doing the important thing that needs to be done—right in the middle of the lobby.

Thirty seconds later the front-desk lady looks up from her phone and calls out, “Uh . . . I believe a room just opened up. You guys can check in now!”

Mom smiles, Brian boxes up the board game, and I start pulling my socks and shoes back on. I pick up my toenail clippers and put them in my backpack.

Dad nods at me as he heads to the desk to get our key. Then we proceed to our room . . . and to more disappointment.