Chapter 2 - Across Canada - money in the city

Toronto is bigger than Vancouver. Everyone is more dressed up and walking really quickly. We saw the new city hall that looks like a big space ship surrounded by two giant skyscrapers. Dad said it looked “Groovy”. He is so out of it. Sidney said he was old fashioned and totally embarrassing to be with. If I said that I’d get a real talking to, but no one said anything when Sidney said it. Mom told me to stop rolling my eyes and to show more respect for my elders and for goodness sake fix my collar and smooth my hair a bit like this, here let me comb it out for you, you look like a hobo, don’t squirm I’m just going to rub this dirt off your forehead so you don’t disgrace us in public.” I can hardly wait until I’m an adult.

We went to the top of one of the skyscrapers and looked across the city to the island. I like the idea of a big city having an island across from it somehow, but maybe it’s because I never thought about lakes being big enough to have islands in them. We also went to an area called The Beaches. I really liked the old houses there even though they were kind of run down and full of hippies. Mom wouldn’t let us talk to anyone because they were smoking something she called ‘mary-jane’. I thought ‘mary-janes’ were a type of shoes but most of the people we saw there didn’t wear any shoes at all.

Toronto’s pretty ok I guess. It’s a good place to shop and Mom took us out for tea at the Royal York Hotel which was really grand. Dad didn’t come with us because he said it’s too expensive and if Mom wants to use her money for such things that is her prerogative but leave him out of it. While I tried not to spill anything, Mom just kept looking around and sighing, and I know she would rather be staying here instead of our “scratty little motel” as she calls it.

We were given our allowance and I immediately spent most of it on an old book with a beautiful red leather cover. It smelled wonderful and was called “The Voyage of the Beagle,” which sounded romantic and funny at the same time. I also got some really cool striped socks with toes in them. I had a bit left over so gave it to this old guy who looked hungry and who had asked me politely if I had any spare change just as if I was a grown-up. When she found out, Mom sighed and said “At least the socks are fun and have some practical use, but why can you never save your money?” It’s true, I always have to spend it right away.

Mom always tells me I waste my allowance and that it didn’t surprise her but it did disappoint her. I hate it when she says she’s disappointed in me. She got mad at all of us today for no reason except she hates our motel. Boy, if one of us was hurt real bad, then she’d be sorry. Like if one of us got hit by a train or a car or something. I tried to picture how Mom would react if Sam, her baby, were to lie all crushed and dead. How she’d lift her hands up to her face and cry, cry, cry. And how she’d look at Sidney and me and hug us saying “I’m sorry, so sorry, please forgive me. You are all I have left now.” and how Sidney and I would be gracious and forgive her.

I had an idea.

“Sam.”

“What?”

“Go lie on the road. By the hotel entrance.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Go on.”

Sam stuck her tongue out at me and said “You first”. I knew my plan would have a flaw. It always does. If I was the one that was run over Mom would probably not even notice.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - only halfway!

The map shows that we are only about half way across the country and I feel like we have been driving forever. I had no idea Canada was this big. I remember from school the word Canada means “village” in Huron or Iroquois or some Indian tribe from the east, but couldn’t someone have checked out how big this village was first before they agreed on the name?

The farms are gone and now it’s endless rock, trees and lakes. Big lakes. ‘Great Lakes’ in fact. All this water reminded me of home, although it always looks like high tide until I remember that there are no tides on lakes. It seems to me like it will take at least two years to get through Ontario. I saw a sign in front of a shop by the road that said “Amethysts. Eggs. Ice. Bait.” I thought that was hilarious. Imagine being an amethyst miner. You’d have to be big and burly so you weren’t bullied by the other kinds of miners.

Mom and Dad are fighting more than usual. Or not really fighting, just kind of arguing. Once when Mom was getting the picnic bag organized Dad said, “Put my wallet at the bottom. Then I don’t have to carry it.”

“I’ve done that.”

“What?”

“I’ve done that. I always do that. It’s done.”

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘So?’ I did what you told me to do you idiot.”

Stuff like that. All the time.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - sick of jello

I hope I never have to eat anything made with Jell-o again. I thought Mom’s cooking was bad with all the tins and packets and never anything homemade. Or Babby’s, with everything overcooked it’s grey, no matter what it is. But this was worse. Last night we had cold beef and tomato soup in Jell-o carved into blocks that sat on the plate with other blocks and mounds of Jell-o salads, green and orange and yellow. It was like eating traffic lights. “So inventive Winnie dear”, said Mom in that fake voice she uses when she’s with people she doesn’t really like or think are important. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many ideas for cooking with Jell-o in my life. It must have taken you years to perfect your repertoire.” I was relieved to see that Auntie Winnie saw it as a compliment and beamed. And then for dessert, jellied salad! This time with tinned mandarin oranges that I picked out, and little coloured marshmallows that Sam picked out. Sidney said she was trying a new diet and couldn’t eat anything made with sugar or salt and then snuck out in the evening to buy cream soda and chips and chocolate bars at the shop down the road to eat in our room. She even let Sam and me have three chips each and a bite of chocolate bar.

Sidney got out her ‘Teen Beat’ magazines which meant she didn’t want to talk to us. At least it’s better than when she practices kissing herself on the arm or the mirror. She thinks we can’t hear her but the sucking sounds she makes are disgusting. I really wanted to practice twirls to prepare for taking ballet classes but I didn’t want to look stupid in front of my sisters or get made fun of so I got out the playing cards to practice the Poker hands Babby has been teaching me, hoping that maybe Sam would want to join in. Instead, Sam took off all her clothes, lay down on the rug and tried to see how many playing cards she could fit on her body before they fell off. “How mature,” said Sidney, sounding a lot like Mom.

Sam made a face and answered “Oh, eat festoons.”

I thought Sidney was going to choke on her soda but it all came out of her nose in two lines of lemon-lime snot. “What?” she sputtered.

“Holy Batman, a river of snot!” I cried moving out of the way.

But Sidney was not to be put off and repeated her question to Sam, “What did you say?”

“I said ‘eat festoons’.”

“What a stupid thing to say. Do you even know what festoons are?”

Sam thought a moment, “Something you eat.”

“No they’re not you idiot. Festoons are decorations, streamers and stuff. You can’t eat them.”

“Why not? You can eat anything,” and then as an afterthought “ except maybe a car.”

“You can’t eat festoons.”

“It’s a metaphor,” I said trying to sound airy and intelligent and to help Sam out. I saw that word in a book once and it sounded brainy. Sometimes Sidney is so superior.

“A metaphor. For what?”

I had to think fast. “For something rude that Mom wouldn’t let us say.”

“What’s a metafur?” Sam asked.

Now we have a new favourite saying. We said “eat festoons” all the way into Ontario today and killed ourselves laughing every time Mom asked “What does that mean?” and Sam screeched back “It’s a metafur!” I felt so great that we had a joke all three of us share, not just the other two like usual. Even when Mom got testy being laughed at, it felt great.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - I discover a new talent

Winnipeg is a nice city even though it’s hot, flat and full of bugs. There are some beautiful old buildings, wide streets and flowers everywhere. And this is where the Royal Winnipeg Ballet is. I really wanted to see them because I kind of want to learn ballet but Mom says they don’t perform in the summer. I don’t trust her though; she said that without even looking it up anywhere. But she did say I could take ballet lessons in the Fall, so that’s okay.

We all got to go off on our own today and I had the best time just walking around. I tried to get myself lost so that I could use a streetmap. I love that feeling of getting lost and then trying to find my way using a map. I do it all the time at home. ‘Fakira the brave’ is always able to find her way. But here the streets run straight in both directions and it’s so flat you can see the main buildings almost all the time so it’s too easy.

At least I thought so. When we met up for lunch I was the third one there, or the second one if you count Dad and Uncle Bert as one person which I do. They sit together all the time just smoking and reading the newspaper and not saying anything much. They were both reading a newspaper article about the royal family. Dad loves the royal family. So does Uncle Bert I guess. Dad’s favourite royal is Queen Juliana of the Netherlands. I’ve seen a picture of her. Not exactly exciting. So not exactly surprising. Had Dad and Uncle Bert even moved an inch all morning? I bet they were still reading the same page.

Mom arrived twenty minutes late, all breathless, with about a dozen shopping bags. She was wearing a new pair of hotpants. Whose mother wears hotpants? How embarrassing. Especially orange ones with big daisies all over them. She always tries to dress like she’s a teenager. Sidney and Sam arrived together a full half an hour later and said they had got lost. I thought they were lying to make an excuse for being late, but they were real quiet all through lunch. Afterwards they asked if they could come with me in the afternoon because they hadn’t seen any of the stuff I saw and told everyone about while we were eating. I was surprised at that. Sam doesn't often want to be with me and Sidney never does. They are mostly together and whenever I walk into a room where they are laughing or whispering they stop and say to me: “What are you looking at?” “Yeah, what are you looking at?” “Leave us alone.” But this afternoon they stayed beside me and I always had to point them in the right direction. I got to thinking maybe they really had been lost this morning. Does this mean that maybe I can do something they can’t? This would be cool.

Chapter 2 Across Canada - families and black flies both bug me

It’s getting buggier. I’ve never seen so many little bugs. Dad calls them ‘blackflies’. They bite like anything. Sam’s back was totally covered with bites, it looked like a dot-to-dot puzzle. I tried to connect them with my black felt pen hoping to get a secret picture, but it was just a tangle of black lines and red dots. They’re itchy too and it’s so hard not to scratch. Apparently this is normal here. How could anyone choose to live in such a place!

We got into Winnipeg after dark. Car travel is exhausting. When I lie in bed each night I always feel like I’m still in the car, sort of moving about. But I fall asleep much quicker than I do at home and I only wake up when Mom knocks on our doors in the morning and tells us to ‘shake a leg’. It’s good that we are going to stay here for a few days. I want to have an explore.

Dad’s sister Aunt Winnie lives here and we are visiting her and Uncle Bert. Dad seems to have about 50 sisters and brothers and about 450 cousins, but this is the first one we’ve ever visited. Their hugs are suffocating. All their furniture has plastic on it and everything they eat is made with Jell-o or marshmallows, and sometimes with both Jell-o and marshmallows. They have four dogs that bark constantly and shed hair everywhere. I can hardly wait to leave.

Mom acts totally different here, like she’s nervous that someone will get all sentimental and say something to her that she doesn’t want to hear. She talks fast, and about books and movies I know she’s never seen. She helped Aunt Winnie set the table last night and said, “Corning ware, so practical isn’t it? Our Royal Albert is such extra work, you just can’t put gold rimmed china in the dishwasher.” What was she talking about? We don’t have a dishwasher. Our dishes don’t have gold rims. The only Royal Albert china she has is one cup and saucer she bought at a garage sale that sits in our cabinet and never gets used. Ok I guess she never actually said we have an entire set of Royal Albert or that we have a dishwasher but she made it sound like we did.

Dad pretends he knows everything about Winnipeg, even though it’s obvious he hasn’t lived here for about ninety years. When Aunt Winnie drove us to the supermarket he tried to explain the route to us kids in the back seat. “You drive past the bank and turn left at old Mr. Sim’s post office.”

Aunt Winnie said “No you don’t.”

“Well, you have to stay left or you go over the bridge into downtown.”

“No you don’t. There’s a turning. It’s clearly marked. Look at it.”

"Hey that's new."

"It's been there since you were born, which sounds like yesterday, but wasn't."

Then when we were walking down the aisle with all the tinned meats in it he said “Prem! That brings back memories. When we were kids we fried it with onions.”

“No we didn’t. We never had Prem. We had head cheese in those days. Prem has only been on the market for a few years. Dreadful muck.”

“Well, I remember dessert. When it was winter we’d pour molasses over packed snow then let it freeze for dessert”

“No we didn’t. We had preserves and custard as often as not. You’ve got dust for brains you have.” I had to stifle a giggle with that one. “Dust for brains!”

We ate lunch on their deck while the grown ups had a big pitcher of martinis. The pitcher had colourful musical notes all over it and Mom called the drinks ‘martoonis’ I guess to be funny. Uncle Bert taught us how to squirt watermelon seeds by squeezing them out between our thumb and index fingers. We had seed fights and even Dad got into the game. Dad hardly ever plays with us. Mom smiled at us squealing with black dots all over us, but drew the line at shooting herself. “Children are such savages on holiday aren't they?” she said to Auntie Winnie and between puffs on her cigarettes and sips of her drink called out to us “Now girls, remember you are young ladies and must act like young ladies and not rambunctious boys who get overexcited.” Once one of my seeds went the opposite way and shot into her hair. She didn’t notice though, and I didn’t tell her.

Uncle Bert calls me ‘slim’. I guess he thinks it’s funny to remind me of how skinny I am but I am not impressed. "Turn to your side", he says. "Now stick out your tongue. There - you're a zipper!" I do what he asks to be polite but I'd like to zip him up. This morning he asked me how it feels to be adopted and then laughed. Mom scowled at him but didn’t say anything to defend me. Why does he think that’s funny? I hate looking different than the others and I hate being reminded of it. Why did they get the thick, curly auburn hair, the hazel eyes and the creamy skin, while I got brown frizz, brown eyes and brown freckles? And not a nice brown like Mom’s shiny hair that looks like chestnuts in September, but a dull brown that looks more like chestnuts in January, smudged and old. I examine it in the mirror occasionally hoping to find a trace of auburn or gold, but there never is. It’s brown. Brown, brown, brown. “As brown as poo” says Sam. I hate being all brown and skinny. Except when I cry and then I go all red and blotchy.

Mom caught me looking at Auntie Winnie and Uncle Bert’s atlas, a big one with gold letters on the outside and pages with the planets and flags on them, and she said in a voice that was way too loud, “Now don’t get your dirty fingerprints all over that. It looks expensive.” I wasn’t even touching it and now I feel like a criminal. Mom is always fussing over me, watching over me and telling me off.

Aunt Winnie tried to make conversation by asking us girls what we thought of having boys’ names and Sidney said it was cool which was the right answer and I wished I had the confidence to say things like that when people ask me the same question. Usually I just go red and say nothing. As if we know anyway. I mean we didn’t name ourselves did we?

Then Auntie Winnie asked what we wanted to be when we grew up and I forgot myself and answered. Sidney laughed and said “An astronaut! She gets carsick! Last week she wanted to be an anthropologist which she can’t even spell and the month before she wanted to be a Turkish silk merchant.” Sam said “Yeah! She’s a moron." Mom didn’t say anything at that huge insult to my dignity but just smiled and said “Our middle girl is a little overambitious, we’re waiting to see if she has any talents besides reading. That beautiful globe is tempting Winnie dear, she might decide to become an art thief and steal it away in her bag.” Now that just hurt my feelings. I’d never steal it. And what bag could hold a globe anyway? I vow to take a closer look at it when I am on my own instead.

I wonder what it would be like to be on my own all the time. Imagine living in a big house full of lovely things all by myself. It sounds like heaven. People are always telling me I should learn to be more social or I’ll become a lonely old cat lady, but they have no idea how many people are inside me, all talking at once, crowding things. Being alone is helpful. I can talk back to each person inside me in turn, one by one, without anyone thinking I’m crazy. And being alone is not a bit like being lonely. Alone I can be courageous and sort things out. And do heroic things. Privately I call myself ‘Fakira the brave’ because it sounds exotic and fearless. ‘Fakira the brave’ is an amazing woman.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - one hungry momma

I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that I don’t have to be a slave for the rest of the trip, but the bad news is I don’t get my makeover either. Last night Mom insisted that we go somewhere nice because we were in a place that resembles civilization and she was desperate for human contact. Thanks very much, I wanted to say, what are we - chopped liver? But I didn’t say anything because then her attention would be on me and I wanted it to be on Sam.

I have to admit Sam was pretty good. She pretended to look through her stuff and asked Sidney and me with a sort of frown on her face if we had packed her dress and to give it back or she’d get mad, even though she knew full well that we had done no such thing. Then she made a great show to Mom who made us turn out our suitcases on the bed and threatened us with no dessert if we had taken Sam’s dress. I knew she was focusing on me. It's so unfair. I’m always singled out. I went along with it only because I knew Sam was going to get into trouble eventually. And besides, I got a catch of the giggles and needed to plunge my head into a suitcase and pretend I was looking for something so Mom wouldn’t see.

Finally convinced we hadn’t taken the dress, Mom said Sam could borrow something of hers and Sidney and I thought this was even better than her getting mad. Sam in something that Mom wears? I’d pay money to see that! If I had any that is. But Sam said “no way” and that was it. At that point Mom started to guess that Sam hadn’t packed her good outfit on purpose and then Sam started to giggle and admitted it and then she got a real bawling out. Mom’s lips went all thin and her cheeks turned a kind of dark reddish-purple.

It’s been days since we last heard her remind us about how little she asks and how we let her down and how she’s worked so hard to get us to look and act like proper young women and how common we were instead, blah, blah, blah. I’m not exactly sure why she thinks calling us ‘common’ is so bad, but it’s seems to be one of Mom’s worst insults. I would have thought being uncommon would worry her more. I’ve love to know what it feels like to be really uncommon, except that I don’t really want to stand out at all. I hate being noticed and fussed over.

Sam kept smirking until Mom shook her by both shoulders. Then Sam burst into tears and called Mom a ‘bitch’, which made Sidney and me gasp because I’ve never her use that word before. Mom gasped too, then slapped her right on the cheek. Sam ran and locked herself in the bathroom and then Mom yelled at us to pick up all our clothes off the floor, which I thought was mean as she had been the one who told us to empty our suitcases in the first place. Dad sat in an armchair and read the paper. After my clothes were sorted I started reading my atlas, because I could tell we wouldn’t be going out for dinner any time soon. But I guess Mom got too hungry or too desperate and eventually coaxed Sam out of the bathroom. Sam agreed to wear one of my blouses over her best jeans because even though she is younger than me I am not much bigger than her. I started to complain when Mom whipped out my favourite blouse but she was in no mood to negotiate. Boy, she really wanted to go to a restaurant!


After all the fireworks last night, you’d think Mom and Sam were best friends. Boy, Sam gets away with so much. I think it’s because she’s the baby of the family. Or else because she’s such a tomboy and doesn’t care. When I wanted to get Sam mad I used to say it was because she reminded Mom and Dad of the son they never had, but now she just laughs and doesn’t mind it so it’s not worth saying anymore. While they chattered away I sat in my window seat and daydreamed my way towards Manitoba.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - something green at last

We’ve spent days visiting Swift Current, Moose Jaw, Holdfast, Liberty, Stalwart and Batoche. I love the names of these places. It’s easy to think about the old days here. And about the stuff we learned at school that happened here in the ‘wild west’, even though we are travelling east. By the time the Indians found out they were somebody’s enemies they were already beaten! Sidney sits in the car reading magazines about boys and make-up and Sam sits in the car just kind of humming, but I love to wander around looking at it all. Someone is always telling me to get back into the car ‘cause it’s time to go and I can’t believe it because it feels like I’ve only been there for a few minutes. I try to imagine what it would have been like when this place was being lived in by Indians and getting discovered by white people. How can you discover a place that other people are already living in? That’s something I don’t really understand but teachers never answer those kinds of questions. There are forts and places where the Hudson’s Bay Company came, and places where everyone fought and talked and made peace. Some of it looks like it could have happened yesterday, but then if it wasn’t for cars and houses with TV aerials this whole place looks like it did for hundreds of years I bet.


We’re staying in Saskatoon tonight, which has a river and trees. I never thought having a river and trees would look so good.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - dying of boredom!

We crossed the Saskatchewan border today. It’s still hot and it’s still flat. I wonder what living here would be like. Incredibly boring I bet. I feel so small with this big sky just pressing down on me with nowhere to hide. Normally I like to lie down on the grass and let my eyes move slowly up to see sky patterns through the trees, or let them wander down to see bugs cross the pavement crack to crack. But here my eyes just go directly up to that big sky. I can’t even try to look anywhere else. That sky is like an eye magnet.Dad likes it here, but that only confirms how boring it must be. The road is so straight he hardly has to turn the steering wheel. My atlas says there were a lot of famous battles on the prairies. How could you lose a battle against anyone here? You’d see them coming for about a week and a half. Maybe the settlers got so bored out here looking at nothing they fell asleep and the Indians snuck up from behind and creamed them. Sam took my altas when I wasn’t looking and got mustard on it. I got so mad at her I wanted to scream. The only thing good is that the mustard got on the part of Africa that was mostly coloured yellow so it doesn’t show so much. But I know it’s there.

I can’t remember the name of the place where we’re staying. It’s in the middle of nowhere and the size of a nickel. We’re in a motel that’s falling apart and is full of dust. Everything is full of dust, even the inside of the oven. We went out for Chinese food. I wonder what it’s like to be Chinese in a place where there are no other Chinese people. When we were at the buffet getting second helpings of chicken balls in red sweet and sour sauce, Sidney and I made a bet about when Sam’s clothing scam will be discovered, as Mom hadn’t cared what we wore tonight. Sidney never makes bets with me, only with Sam, so it felt pretty good. I say as long as we are in the prairies we will never find any restaurant Mom would call ‘nice’. So my guess is Toronto. Sidney says that’s too far ahead and thinks it will be in Winnipeg when we visit Auntie Winnie and Uncle Bert. I tried to make a joke about her hoping to ‘win’ with Auntie ‘Win’-nie in ‘Win’-nipeg, but she didn’t get it. Or she didn’t want to get it. Sam can always make Sidney laugh but I never can. I hope I win the bet. Sidney said she’d do a makeover on me if I do. But if I lose I have to be her slave for the rest of the trip.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - like a pancake

Everything is totally flat. Well, almost totally flat. We are in the prairies, “Canada’s Bread Basket” my atlas says. There are huge fields of wheat waving in the wind, like brown and yellow ripples of water that go on and on. It’s easy to see buildings for miles because there’s nothing to block them. I like the grain elevators best, tall wooden buildings that stand near the railroad. Some are grey and old, but some are bright yellow and red and have words like “Pioneer” and "Reliance" on them. That sounds so romantic. Most of the farmhouses are hidden behind trees. Dad said winter storms hit the trees first preventing damage to houses. That makes sense, but for me I’d plant trees just so I could look at something green.

It’s so hot we have all the car windows open and us girls take our shoes off and stick our feet out the window. Sam sometimes takes off all her clothes when Mom isn’t looking. I never knew a kid who liked being naked so much. At home she rides around on her mustang bike buck naked, with old playing cards in the wheel spokes to make a flap-flap sound. Mom says hanging our bare feet out the windows looks trashy, and people in the other cars will look down on us but I don’t care. Well, I don’t care because it’s not just me doing it and no one can really see us as they whiz past. Anyway, I bet she’d do it too it she could.

We stayed in a place called Medicine Hat. I like that name. I wonder if it refers to one specific hat.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - the Rockies rock!

Now we’re in the Rocky Mountains. They are amazing. So beautiful they hurt. They really do. I see them and I get a little pain in my chest because they are perfect. We’re staying in Lake Louise, which is Babby's real name so it’s kind of fitting that we’re here. Louise that is. Well, Lou actually. Not Lake. Lake would be a silly name, even for Babby. I bought a postcard of the posh hotel that we're not staying at.

I’ve never seen mountains this big before. They are so big the sun sets behind them before the afternoon is finished. After supper we saw elk walking across the road, and some mountain sheep eating up on a cliff. I also saw a bear running into the bush, but it had gone by the time everyone else looked. Of course they didn’t believe me. From now on I’m not going to say a word if I see anything. I hope I see a moose!

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - 7 hours later

Things got better after we had breakfast, but we didn’t get to eat it until 11:30. At least afterwards everyone went quiet and I got some good day dreaming in. I imagined I was in a horse-drawn carriage in Latvia on my way to a ball. I sort of woke up when we stopped for the night at this motel in Osoyoos. It has a pool. Thank goodness because it was really hot. Mom immediately pulled out her little bottle of gin and sat around the pool drinking, smoking and reading magazines, talking to other ladies like she was their best friend. She went on and on about her herbaceous border, which I think means her flower garden. That surprised me because at home she never seems that interested in it. Dad’s the one always mucking around with plants, although he could care less about flowers which don’t produce anything practical. “You can’t eat flowers,” he says. I’ve noticed Mom often stretches the truth to other people to make herself look important or classy or something. And usually about things that don’t matter. I don’t get it.

Dad read the paper, big shock. If it’s not the newspaper it’s some boring old plant catalogue showing new varieties of old beans. Or some new research paper on how some beans have better colour than other beans. Yawn. Sidney snuck off to see if there was anything fun happening in town, but she wouldn’t take us because Mom would notice. Bossy pig. When she got back she said the town was dead. Mom and Dad didn’t even notice she had been gone for a whole hour. Mom wanted to go somewhere nice to eat, but I didn’t want to hear the fireworks over Sam’s clothing on the first night so convinced her to order in pizza. I wished we could have cooked something in the cute little stove. The motel kitchen is so small and cosy, but Mom hates to cook anytime and certainly wouldn’t consider doing it on holiday so pizza it was. I long to go camping and have real food cooked over a real campfire. Now that would be great. Another thing that will just have to wait until I am grown up. That list is sure getting long.

We bought some peaches this morning at a little stall by the road. They were really good. Dad totally embarrassed us by making us eat them standing by the side of the road so we didn’t get peach juice all over his precious Chrylser Windsor. People passed and looked at us having to eat peaches by the side of the road. I was so embarrassed I turned my back so no one could see my face. Sam ate four, and then we had to stop because she felt sick and I had to give up my window seat so that she could sit in it and then I felt sick, so I was kind of glad the peaches were all finished.

Travelling all together takes some getting used to. It will go really good and then Sidney will give me a shove and tell me to stay on my side, and then I’ll poke her which I know she hates and then Sam will laugh and Sidney will call her a lesbo. I’m not exactly sure what that means and neither does Sam but it gets Mom and Dad really mad and they turn around and swat at Sidney or else stop the car and give us all a good yelling. Then it goes quiet, Mom brings out jelly beans and everything would be good again.

Chapter 2 - Across Canada - roadtrip from hell

What am I doing in this car with these people? Dad yelled at us to get going at 6 o’clock in the morning. 6 o’clock in the morning! He said we can’t eat breakfast until we leave the city. Mom got into the car all silent, like this vacuum sucking up everything, just sitting there biting her nails and smoking. She always bites her nails and smokes. Sidney had to go back in the house three times to get more stuff, and just before she went in for the fourth time because she forgot this special makeup stick she wanted to bring, Dad blew his top and locked all the car doors. Sam said he was a ‘mean Daddy’ and Dad only got mad when the rest of us giggled. Sam gets away with everything.

This is going to be an awful way to spend summer. Dad keeps going on about how we’d better appreciate that he’s giving up his summer planting beans to take us on a vacation that will be special because we are all together and we will see where he grew up before we get much older and only want to hang out with our friends instead. Well, duh. Friends are way more fun to be with than parents who just work all day and then sit around drinking all night with their friends, bragging about how wonderful their kids are except when they’re bragging about how awful their kids are. If we talk about how gross someone’s Mom or Dad is we get this huge long lecture. It’s so unfair.

And now we have to sit together in a car for weeks and weeks. I wish I was old enough to drive. I’d just zoom off by myself. Or I’d go with Babby, who’s much more fun. She plays cards with me for hours and hours. Right now she’s teaching me Poker. When Mom and Dad aren’t around that is. Otherwise it’s Canasta. She’s staying in our house to keep the burglars out and the cat in. Lucky cat. Babby understands me so much more than anyone else. She gave me a pocket-sized atlas for the trip. Mom said “What does any child of eleven want with an atlas?” An atlas? Doesn’t she know I have three others on my bookshelf? She has no idea who I am. But then neither does Dad. I wonder how someone so much fun as Babby ever gave birth to such a boring man as Dad. Besides, I’m practically twelve.

I don’t want to admit it but I am kind of excited about the exploration part of this trip. Going to places I’ve never been before and only read about in school. But I can’t say that out loud or Sidney would call me a suck and Sam would say “She can talk, she’s alive!” like she does every time I say anything. Every single time. Sisters are so predictable. They sit together in the car and giggle. Mom smiles at them and says “Oh you two and your secrets.” I feel left out.

I read once that everyone should see their own country before seeing any other ones. And I want to see other ones so the sooner I get to see Canada the better. Besides, Sidney said her friend Deirdre told her that every year the high school band teacher takes the band on trips to places like Toronto or London, England. Can you imagine if it’s true? London, England! I’ve just got to go. I’ll die of despair if I can’t.

Sidney said there’s no room in the car for all our stuff and why didn’t we get to travel in something good like a Winnebago, but it’s only because she has three suitcases just for herself. When Dad told her that was too many she said that being the eldest meant having to look respectable all the time which she only said to please Mom. It worked because Mom muttered if Dad wasn’t so cheap we’d be able to fly and then Sidney asked him why he was so cheap. Dad yelled at Sidney who said Mom said it first, but then Mom pretended she didn’t hear by getting out of the car to get another cardigan. Sam made sounds like a chicken but only Sidney and I heard her.

I can’t believe Sidney was allowed to bring three suitcases. One of them is full of just make-up and she won’t even let the rest of us try it. Sam only has a little bag but that’s because she wears the same jeans and tee-shirts every day. I have one suitcase too, but mine’s bigger than Sam’s. Mom told us we had to bring a nice outfit so that we wouldn’t embarrass her in public when we go somewhere nice, but I know Sam ‘forgot’ hers on purpose. Of course she’ll get away with it. If I did something like that I’d be grounded for a year. I brought my yellow scooter skirt and the hot pink shift with the belt so I could choose between them.

What’s the point anyway? Even if we were covered in diamonds we’d embarrass Mom in public. And of course she has no idea what it’s like to be embarrassed by her when she has her fifth cocktail and laughs too loud. Or when she has her friends over to play mah-jong and she makes us come in to show off our new dresses and then, right there in the living room, tries to persuade us to join the debating team or take up elocution lessons, or fencing, or something stupid like that, making it really hard for us to say those are things only losers would do because we are in the room with adults. Or worse, when we have our friends over and she starts performing, or practicing she calls it. That is sooo embarrassing. She gets so dramatic sometimes. Especially when she sings the Lord’s Prayer including the Amen. No one sings the Lord’s Prayer! My friends ask if she’s religious and I have to tell them she doesn’t even believe in God but she has to practice for her job as a funeral parlour singer. My friends tell me she has a weird job and I tell them well, at least she has a job she’s good at and that usually shuts them up. But then I often don’t say anything at all.

I kind of feel sorry for Mom sometimes. She always wants to do stuff and Dad seems happy to just sit and read newspapers. And grow beans. Only beans of course. Anything else might be just too interesting. Sam once set the bottom of his paper on fire while he was reading it to see if he’d notice. I think that’s the only time I ever saw him get really mad at Sam. But then I overheard him laughing and saying it ‘showed initiative’. Give me a break. The only thing they ever say about me is “we think she might be a slow starter”. I hate being called slow. Or stupid. Just because I’m quiet and not very good at math and sometimes can’t make up my mind about things doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Why don’t parents and teachers and other kids get that? Someday I’ll show them. I’ll do something really neat and they’ll all brag about having known me. They’ll say they always knew I was talented and that they weren’t fooled by my shyness. They’d say I was deep.

And it’s not as if Dad ever does anything with the knowledge he gets from newspapers. He’s totally out of it most of the time. He hardly even knows what day it is. He doesn’t talk much, even at their grown-up parties. Maybe it has something to do with working in a research lab full of nerds all day, but it’s probably because he hates going to parties. Of course Mom is a good talker so I guess he doesn’t have to be. Except when they argue. Then he roars like a bull. Like when Mom spends too much money on clothes. Mom says “It’s my money. I earned it and I can spend it the way I want.” And he booms, “How come your money is your money and my money has to pay the bills?” He did have a point. Once Mom complained about needing a new dress or something and he growled, “Don’t worry. All my money will all be yours when I’m gone.” She answered, “And when do you think that might be?” I thought that was pretty funny at the time.

Now it’s starting to rain and I’m literally starving to death. If we’re going to go let’s go already. I’m always the first one ready. It drives me crazy to have to wait around for everyone else. Just as we were really ready, Mom remembered something else and went back inside. She is always the one that makes us late. I know we don’t have a deadline or anything, but I get so impatient with her. Everyone else got out of the car and hung around but I sat inside and looked out the window, thinking about the things I brought to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. I’ve got my atlas, I’ve got my journal, although I hope I don’t get car sick like Gweneth at school who gets sick when she reads or writes in a car. Gweneth Prescot, that is, not Gwynneth Hughes. I think Gweneth Prescot gets sick just looking at a car! Mom said I shouldn’t spend so much time writing and reading about places I’ll never see but how does she know I’ll never see them? I plan to be a world traveller some day but she says I mustn’t get ideas above my abilities and to learn something practical, like macrame. Yeah, right.