It was nice to see his pets happily exploring their new world. He loved that he could do something for his little pals, that he could help improve their conditions. Herb decided he was starting to become a pretty good caretaker. Forget Herb’s Cinnaballs—he could spend his nights making mouse exploration areas!
Suddenly, a loud ziiiiip! shook Herb out of his reverie. The tent flap flew open and Lucy poked her nose inside their newly redesigned tent space. “Herb!” his sister screeched, after she’d had time to get a good look at his creation.
“Yes?” Herb replied sweetly. He cringed; Lucy looked grouchy. Perhaps she’d been stuck in the kitchen too long. He lifted Hound and held the big mouse up in front of Lucy’s face. “Want to hold him? He likes it when you rub between his ears.”
His sister glared at him. “If I find one mouse poop in my bed tonight, you will pay,” she growled.
“I’ll clean everything up. I promise.” Herb said.
Lucy knew he would. Herb never broke promises. She nodded, satisfied. With a final huff, she dug her toothbrush and face wash out of her bag and zipped the tent flap closed again.
“Do we have time to read a chapter of our book before bed?” Herb called after her. Lucy didn’t respond, but he was pretty sure her loud grunt and angry footsteps meant N-O no.
17
CHICAGO CHARACTERS
Freddy had always known he didn’t have the same type of smarts as the other members of his family. Lucy, Herb, and Dad had all mastered math facts, none of them ever got distracted during tests or projects, and everyone except Freddy had done brainy stuff that won prizes. Freddy never won prizes and, no matter how much he practiced, he was certain he would never remember how to multiply fractions.
Perhaps this was because Freddy’s head was filled to bursting with random facts, strange world records, art project ideas, and a few rather unimpressive card tricks. None of the things that occupied his brain ever earned him a perfect score on standardized tests, but he continually held out hope that someday his type of smarts and knowledge would prove useful for something.
Though he had read about a lot of amazing things over the past few years (fun facts about pee, an island that was home to a colony of swimming pigs, hundreds of scary-but-true survival stories), Freddy rarely experienced anything truly exciting in real life. His classmates were all very nice, but also fairly ordinary; his hometown was safe and pretty, nestled on the shore of majestic Lake Superior, but it was also pretty boring. If he was lucky, he crossed paths with one or two particularly interesting people on any given day—while he was at the library, selecting apples at the grocery store, or waiting to be picked up after his swimming lessons at the Y.
Which was why it was so exciting that, on the Peach family’s first day of business in downtown Chicago, Freddy met more interesting people than he would usually encounter in a whole year at home. During the course of the day, he gave all their customers nicknames and jotted them down in his sketchbook. He knew this would help him remember them all, so he could draw pictures of some of them later.
“Could I please try a sample of your apple pie?” A hulking, muscled guy wearing a SMILE tank top flashed Freddy a friendly smile just a few minutes after the Peach Pie Truck had opened. The man’s hair was shaved around the edges, but the top was long and pushed back with gel or sweat or something.
“Sorry,” Freddy told the guy. “We don’t offer samples.”
“I just…,” the man began. “Never mind. It’s not your problem.” Then the big guy began to cry. Loud, blubbering sobs that echoed off the buildings around them.
Freddy and Lucy exchanged a nervous look. Herb gaped at the man, while Dad pretended to be busy washing something in the sink. Meanwhile, the guy pulled napkin after napkin out of their dispenser, loudly snorting and wiping his nose.
Dad, clearly uncomfortable, stepped forward and looked beseechingly at Freddy. He mouthed, “What should we do?”
Unfazed, Freddy quickly said, “Which pie was it you were hoping to taste, sir?”
The guy blinked. He blubbered, “I—I’d love a quick sample of the apple.” He gobbled it down, and then belched and said, “That’s yummy. Now the peach?”
Freddy sliced a slim sliver off the peach pie and passed it to the man.
“Mmm-mmm,” the man said. “I’d just love to compare that to the French silk.” He ate that, and then said, “Seems a shame not to test the pecan and turtle, too. That’s the only way I can make an informed decision. And if I don’t try them all, one of the pies will feel left out.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes at the guy. Freddy squeezed his sister’s shoulder to try to calm her. In the grand scheme of things, a few free slivers of pie really weren’t a big deal.
“All scrumptious,” the man—whom Freddy had now secretly nicknamed Sample Stan—announced, after swallowing down his sliver of turtle pie. “Sadly, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Then Sample Stan turned and strolled away. Freddy knew they’d been had. But when Dad congratulated him on how well he’d handled the situation, saying he’d demonstrated grace, kindness, compassion, and smart thinking, he decided he really didn’t care. He’d much rather make his dad proud than sell a sneaky dude a slice of five-dollar pie. It felt good to do something well, and have Dad take notice.
After Sample Stan stopped by, they met:
- Quick and Crabby
- Big Guy Flirts with Dad
- Pays in Coins (five bucks’ worth of nickels and dimes!)
- Toddlers Who Touch Stuff
- Overly Curious Customer
- Job Seeker (“Are you guys hiring? Can I get an application?”)
- Discount Lady (“I’ll give you three dollars for a slice. Five seems high.”)
- Bathroom Hunter
- Tattoos + an Iguana (an ACTUAL, LIVE IGUANA on the dude’s arm!)
- Nearly Naked
- Sings His Order (“I will take peeeeeeach piiiiiiiie!”)
- Dine & Dash
- Burpie McBurperson
- Hold the Crust
- Side of Fries
- Barter Boy
- Cast of Hamilton (two REAL actors from the Chicago cast ensemble!!)
Late in the afternoon, a soft-spoken lady with a real, live parrot on her shoulder strolled up to the truck. “Do you have cake?” she asked Freddy, carefully studying the five-item menu. She looked nervous, her eyes flicking quickly between Freddy, the menu, her parrot, and something invisible on the sidewalk over her left shoulder.
“Nope,” Freddy replied. “Just the five pies, clearly listed there on the board. Is that a parrot?”
“Chocolate cake?” the woman asked, ignoring his question.
“We have no cake at all.” He squinted. “Does it just sit there? Does it ever try to fly away?”
“Red velvet?” Cake Lady asked, stroking one of the parrot’s spindly claws.
Freddy shook his head, keeping careful watch on the bird. “We’re the Peach Pie Truck, ma’am. No red velvet.”
“You know what’s yummy? Vanilla cake with raspberry filling and buttercream frosting.”
“Good to know.” Freddy smiled at her patiently. “Can I tempt you with a slice of pie today? The French silk is very popular. It’s cake-like, I guess.”
Cake Lady pulled her eyebrows together. “That will be fine.” She slid a fiver across the counter and collected her pie. “And I’ll come by tomorrow to see if cake is back in stock.”
Surrounded by all these odd and fascinating folks roaming the streets of Chicago, Freddy began to wonder who would win the prize for Strangest Food Truck Customer Ever. The only thing he knew for sure was, Chicago had presented plenty of challenges that gave the Peaches a perfect chance to practice their customer service skills for the Ohio Food Truck Festival.
During the course o
f their trip, Freddy had begun to realize he had a knack for dealing with people. And he felt even more confident about his people skills after handling all of Chicago’s kooky customers. If they managed to come out on top at the Ohio Food Truck Festival, Freddy knew it would be in big part because of contributions he’d made to this family experiment. Sure, they were a team—and everyone in the family played an important role. But for once in his life, Freddy felt a little like the leader. He, Freddy Peach, was good at this. And he couldn’t wait to help guide his family to victory.
CHICAGO MONEY:
(BY HERB)
∗ Cost of Pie Supplies: $532 (Dad didn’t ruin any pies!)
∗ Sales: $1,250*
∗ Returns: $5 (Cake Lady didn’t like her pie)
∗ Total Profit: $713!!!!!**
*Thanks to Freddy, who convinced the campground manager to let us sell some of our leftover pie to other campers!
**Not $10,000 yet, but it’s a step in the right direction…and we still have time!
18
LATE-NIGHT REVELATIONS
The Peaches set off out of Chicago early Friday afternoon, hoping to beat rush-hour traffic. But it turned out rush hour lasted for many hours in Chicago, and their giant beast of a truck was jammed between semitrucks, honking cars, and angry minivans, all trying to elbow their way out of the city. They finally made it across the bridge between Illinois and Indiana just as the sun tucked itself into the horizon. It was that magical hour when the sky was awash in pink and orange, and even the concrete jungle outside the food truck’s dusty front window looked beautiful, streaked with gentle color.
Dad was hoping to make it as far as Ann Arbor, Michigan, that night, but Lucy had a feeling they would have to stop somewhere to sleep along the way. Everyone was wiped out. As had become tradition, Lucy sat beside Dad in the front seat of the truck, quietly reading her book while he listened to podcasts and dictated research notes and reminders to himself on his cell phone. Freddy and Herb had both conked out as soon as they were clear of stop-and-go traffic, so Lucy and Dad were left alone in peace and quiet up front.
While they drove through the congested suburban roadways outside Chicago, Lucy marveled at her newfound realization: she was actually enjoying their trip, at least a little bit. It was nice to see her family united by a goal, even if the goal did involve a lot of hard work. And because they were doing this whole thing in Mom’s honor, Lucy actually wanted to help the Great Peach Experiment succeed. She’d seen her dad get passionate about work projects plenty of times before, of course, but none of those ventures had ever involved or interested her; they’d just been excuses for him to disappear. With the Peach Pie Truck, however, everything felt different. Lucy was starting to sense that things were changing; she had begun to feel like life was creeping a little closer to the way it used to be.
“Dad?” Lucy said, yawning as they passed Gary, Indiana. She was hungry and sleepy and the book she was reading had not yet captured her attention. On both sides of the highway, lines of smokestacks belched steam into the air, offering a stark contrast to Chicago’s bright and shiny skyline. “You said you used to take road trips with your cousins when you were a kid?”
Dad nodded. “Yep.”
“With Great Aunt Lucinda, right?” Lucy asked.
“Indeed,” Dad said quietly.
“Will you tell me about some of those trips?” Lucy asked, settling deeper into her seat. She knew very little about Dad’s childhood, only that his mom had died when he was still in elementary school. And Lucy’s grandpop had been in the army, so they had moved around a lot when Dad was growing up. He didn’t talk about it much, but Lucy got the feeling that Dad and Grandpop had never been very close. Though he died before Herb was born and they hadn’t visited him very often when he was still alive, Lucy could remember the smell of his cigars, and the way he laughed out loud when he rubbed his prickly beard stubble on her cheek.
“Sure,” Dad said. He changed the channel to a pop music station. Then he told Lucy how, every summer starting when he was eight, Dad had joined Aunt Lucinda, Uncle Martin, and his cousins on their road trips. “Some of my happiest memories are from those adventures,” he said. “We’d stop and camp at night, cooking dinner over the fire. My cousins and I would poke around in the woods and explore fun little towns during the day. One summer, we drove up to a water park in Canada. Another time, we stopped to explore some caves in Kentucky. But the best trips came later—when Lucinda and Martin drove us all the way across the country to North Carolina, right on the Atlantic Ocean, and we camped close to the beach for a week.” Dad gazed out the windshield into the hazy night sky. “We’d swim, play in the waves, eat ice cream for lunch. I liked swimming back then just as much as Herb does now.”
“Why haven’t we ever done that?” Lucy asked, feeling bold for just coming out and saying something that was on her mind. She’d blurted out questions to her mom, plenty of times, but it was harder with Dad.
“Everything’s different now,” he said wistfully. “Prices out East have shot up, the campgrounds have all been bought out to build big houses and hotels, and hurricanes keep eroding the beaches. Also, with work as busy as it is, it’s just an awfully long way to go to sit around and do nothing.”
Lucy frowned. “Why was it Aunt Lucinda and Uncle Martin who took you? Why didn’t Grandpop go along?”
“My father didn’t get much time off work, so trips like that never made sense,” Dad said. “That’s just the way it was.” There was silence for a few moments while neither of them said anything more.
Lucy considered the way things used to be in her family and wondered if Dad ever thought about how much things had changed since Mom died. She felt a little guilty for thinking it, but everything had been so much better before. Lucy often wondered if their life would ever go completely back to normal.
Finally, Dad flipped on a podcast, explaining, “I’m starting to get sleepy—do you mind if I turn this on so I have something to focus on? Still hoping to make it to Ann Arbor tonight so we don’t lose a day of sales tomorrow. We’re really in the zone, and I don’t want to lose momentum in the weeks leading up to the Food Truck Festival. Lots to do to if we want to be ready for the big event so we can call this summer a success.”
“Go ahead,” Lucy said. She opened her book and pretended to read. But the words just swam in front of her eyes. She was too busy trying to process what her dad had said. The beach didn’t sound like nothing to her. All of the trips Dad had taken with his cousins and Great Aunt Lucinda sounded marvelous. Obviously, they had been wonderful, or he wouldn’t have such fond memories.
A summer of blissful nothing, without a care in the world. Could the four of them ever have an adventure like that? She tried to imagine what it would be like to spend time together as a family, doing something—or nothing—with the only goal being to enjoy one another’s company. They used to do that all the time when Mom was still around. But no matter how hard Lucy wished she could get that old life back, her wish didn’t seem likely to come true.
This trip wasn’t quite like the ones Dad and his cousins used to take, but it was a chance for the Peaches to create a few special new memories as a family. If the Great Peach Experiment could help patch up some of the holes in their lives, Lucy decided it would be worth giving up half her summer break to bake and sell pies. Figuring out some way to paint her dad back into the picture would be a game changer.
They were bumping along I-94, making surprisingly good time, when suddenly the food truck began to hiss. It whined, clanked, and then steam began to puff out of the slits on either side of the hood. Lucy glanced at her dad, who didn’t appear to have noticed any of these things. He was lost in another world. “Dad?”
“Eh?” Dad said softly.
“The truck is smoking.”
“Goodness me!” Dad shrieked. “The truck is smoking.”
Freddy and Herb both stirred in the back seat, craning their necks to look out the windshield as the truck lurched and swayed briefly out of its lane. There was a sign announcing the exit for a town called Jackson, Michigan. Lucy glanced at the atlas and discovered that Jackson was the largest town around for miles. Hopefully they could find a mechanic—and if not, at least a small town was better than being broken down on the side of the road. “Exit here,” Lucy told him. “I think we’re going to need help.”
From the Sketchbook of Freddy Peach:
HOW TO SPEND A MILLION DOLLARS
When I’m rich, I’m going to fly to space…or at the very least, fly SOMEWHERE cool, like an undiscovered planet that looks like the giant bean sculpture in downtown Chicago. (I know the Bean is right there in the middle of downtown, so it’s not technically a RANDOM roadside attraction—but it was still very cool.)
19
HAPPY CAMPGROUND
Herb had decided that this campground—the one they checked into after their truck broke down—was his new favorite place.
First, there was a pool. A real, honest-to-goodness pool with warm water, a deepish section, ladders, a comfy reading chair for Lucy, and water noodles they could use for battles and water horse races.
Second, there was also a lake—one you could swim in, with canoes anyone was allowed to borrow, and a sauna that magically stayed warm all day long!
Third, there was a game room with two video game machines (PAC-MAN and a deer-hunting game), a pool table, and even more comfy chairs.
Fourth, and most important, the check-in guy sold soft-serve ice cream right at the front desk!
But the cherry on top of it all was, the campground offered a seven-dollar all-you-can-eat buffet breakfast where Herb was allowed to get Frosted Flakes, a bagel (which he wrapped up in a napkin for later), and make his very own cinnamon waffle in a special waffle machine.
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