a promise to your mom not to talk against your Dad to you guys, no matter what I really think. He is your Dad, and he loves you, in his own weird way."
"We'll be really good." Jamie looked up at me. He was twelve, he was growing, but I was tall, especially in heeled boots.
"No, you won't. You're teenagers. You can't help it." I shook my head, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
* * * *
The next morning (nothing like advance warning), I was sitting in a mini-van with half of the group and Kyle Everett, one of the chaperones. Fay Williams and Mark Andrews were in charge of the other van, leading us.
Felicia Williams was with us, after saying, "Eww, I don't want to ride with my mom, "and climbed into the seat next to Jamie, her dragon and snake jewelry clanking, smelling of patchouli, and making Jamie uncomfortable in a way that just tickled me. Also in our van was a fifteen-year-old guy named Tobias with flaxen hair, a motorcycle jacket and an attitude; a quiet, thin girl of about fourteen named Louisa, who sat in the van reading a thick volume on local plant and animal life; and a squirmy, skinny, hyper thirteen-year-old named Bertram who'd puked in the parking lot before we even started.
"I get car sick," he said.
Jamie rolled his eyes. "We're not in the car. We're still on the ground."
"Yeah, it's really gonna suck when we're driving."
Jamie looked at me with desperation. I pulled something wrapped in cellophane out of my backpack and then two small, thin bands with snaps. I handed them to Bert. "Suck on the candy. It's ginger, an antispasmodic. And put on the bracelets. They're magnetic and help prevent motion sickness."
"You're the hocus pocus lady, aren't you?" Bert asked, accepting them. "My next door neighbor, Mrs. White, is terrified of you."
"Hocus pocus lady? Geez." Jamie shook his head.
"Oh, I remember Mrs. White." My lips twitched. "Nasty old gossip. She wrote what used to be called 'poison pen letters' to someone and tried to get money out of them. I convinced her that wasn't a good idea."
"How?" Bertram's brown eyes were round, looking too large for his thin face.
I winked at him. "Trade secret." That got even the attention of Tobias-with-the-attitude and Felicia.
Now, traveling in the van, with a heavy, wet snow starting, I glanced back. All five kids were busy keeping themselves entertained, with five sets of ear buds trailing down to their pockets or bags. Ah, the age of the iPod.
"So this trip was your idea?" I turned to look at Kyle Everett. I figured he was a couple of years closer to forty than I was. His face was smooth, but with a few lines around the eyes and the mouth that indicated a sense of humor. He was taller than my own nearly six feet, which was impressive in itself, and leanly muscled. Although he didn't wear a ring, he must be married. He had that groundedness that comes from having a woman do one's laundry.
"Well, Mark and I concocted it between us," Kyle admitted, flashing me a smile. He had dark brown hair and disconcertingly green eyes. "I was contracted to teach ninth grade social studies this year when Ellen Nagle took a sabbatical. I'm kind of a history geek, and the people behind the events fascinate me. What makes them tick, you know? Anyway, the principal and the school board wanted to create a special program for gifted students, mixing ages."
He flipped on the lights and increased the windshield wipers' rate. "It falls under the humanities banner, and it meets twice a week during a designated study hall period. It's for exceptional students from the whole school. Technically, that was supposed to mean just the 'high school' segment of the population, but Felicia, Jamie, and Bertram petitioned to be allowed in, and they met all the requirements, so here they are, even though they're in middle school. The seminar covers a lot of topics, from history to literature to art to astronomy to architecture.
"Mark teaches tenth grade science and coaches the lacrosse
"We'll be really good." Jamie looked up at me. He was twelve, he was growing, but I was tall, especially in heeled boots.
"No, you won't. You're teenagers. You can't help it." I shook my head, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
* * * *
The next morning (nothing like advance warning), I was sitting in a mini-van with half of the group and Kyle Everett, one of the chaperones. Fay Williams and Mark Andrews were in charge of the other van, leading us.
Felicia Williams was with us, after saying, "Eww, I don't want to ride with my mom, "and climbed into the seat next to Jamie, her dragon and snake jewelry clanking, smelling of patchouli, and making Jamie uncomfortable in a way that just tickled me. Also in our van was a fifteen-year-old guy named Tobias with flaxen hair, a motorcycle jacket and an attitude; a quiet, thin girl of about fourteen named Louisa, who sat in the van reading a thick volume on local plant and animal life; and a squirmy, skinny, hyper thirteen-year-old named Bertram who'd puked in the parking lot before we even started.
"I get car sick," he said.
Jamie rolled his eyes. "We're not in the car. We're still on the ground."
"Yeah, it's really gonna suck when we're driving."
Jamie looked at me with desperation. I pulled something wrapped in cellophane out of my backpack and then two small, thin bands with snaps. I handed them to Bert. "Suck on the candy. It's ginger, an antispasmodic. And put on the bracelets. They're magnetic and help prevent motion sickness."
"You're the hocus pocus lady, aren't you?" Bert asked, accepting them. "My next door neighbor, Mrs. White, is terrified of you."
"Hocus pocus lady? Geez." Jamie shook his head.
"Oh, I remember Mrs. White." My lips twitched. "Nasty old gossip. She wrote what used to be called 'poison pen letters' to someone and tried to get money out of them. I convinced her that wasn't a good idea."
"How?" Bertram's brown eyes were round, looking too large for his thin face.
I winked at him. "Trade secret." That got even the attention of Tobias-with-the-attitude and Felicia.
Now, traveling in the van, with a heavy, wet snow starting, I glanced back. All five kids were busy keeping themselves entertained, with five sets of ear buds trailing down to their pockets or bags. Ah, the age of the iPod.
"So this trip was your idea?" I turned to look at Kyle Everett. I figured he was a couple of years closer to forty than I was. His face was smooth, but with a few lines around the eyes and the mouth that indicated a sense of humor. He was taller than my own nearly six feet, which was impressive in itself, and leanly muscled. Although he didn't wear a ring, he must be married. He had that groundedness that comes from having a woman do one's laundry.
"Well, Mark and I concocted it between us," Kyle admitted, flashing me a smile. He had dark brown hair and disconcertingly green eyes. "I was contracted to teach ninth grade social studies this year when Ellen Nagle took a sabbatical. I'm kind of a history geek, and the people behind the events fascinate me. What makes them tick, you know? Anyway, the principal and the school board wanted to create a special program for gifted students, mixing ages."
He flipped on the lights and increased the windshield wipers' rate. "It falls under the humanities banner, and it meets twice a week during a designated study hall period. It's for exceptional students from the whole school. Technically, that was supposed to mean just the 'high school' segment of the population, but Felicia, Jamie, and Bertram petitioned to be allowed in, and they met all the requirements, so here they are, even though they're in middle school. The seminar covers a lot of topics, from history to literature to art to astronomy to architecture.
"Mark teaches tenth grade science and coaches the lacrosse