“But wouldn’t it be awesome to see an allosaur on its home turf?” my cousin asks.
I shake my head. “You can’t really see a dinosaur. They’re extinct.”
Abbey gives a little laugh. “Dinosaurs are all around us, Leo. Now we call them birds.”
“That’s just a theory.”
“Gravity’s just a theory, but I don’t see you floating off into space.” Abbey lifts the pot toward Gram. “More coffee?”
Gram puts a hand over her cup. “I think I’ve had enough.”
“We should go home,” I say.
“We should go to Utah,” says Abbey.
“Home,” I say again.
“Utah,” Abbey repeats.
Gram holds up a hand. She looks at Abbey for a moment, turns to me, and then points at the jelly donuts on the plate between us. The glow from a green and red neon sign in the shop window makes them look like fat Christmas ornaments. “Are you going to eat those?”
I shake my head and slide the plate toward my grandmother. She devours them both. When she’s done, there’s a dab of white on the end of her nose. “Leo,” Gram says to me, “this might be the powdered sugar talking, but I think I’d like to go to Utah.”
“Seriously?” says Abbey.
“No way,” I say.
“I’m in,” says my cousin.
“You’re not going to Utah,” I tell my grandmother.
“Why not?” she asks.
“Because Mom is waiting for us at home. Because Utah is really far away. Because how would you get there anyway?”
Gram picks a set of keys off the table and dangles them in front of my face. “I have a 1973 Buick Electra parked right outside.”
The old Buick is one of the projects Pop and I worked on together. That car is in better shape now than when it was new.
“You’re not driving to Utah,” I say a little louder than I mean to. “We have to go home.”
“Leo,” Gram says sweetly, “you are not the boss of me.”
“She’s right about that,” says Abbey.
“Nobody asked you,” I tell my cousin.
Gram puts a finger on the road atlas that’s spread out between us. She points at a long, thin highway that’s highlighted in yellow marker. “Look,” she says. “Your grandfather already marked the route. From Allentown we’d head to Chicago and then cross Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, the Rocky Mountains …” She looks up from her map. “We’d follow almost the exact same route as the first transcontinental railroad. Of course, they weren’t concerned about dinosaurs.”
I turn back and forth between my cousin and my grandmother. “This is all very interesting,” I say, “but we’re going home.”
“I’m going to Utah,” says Abbey. “Look out, allosaurs, here we come!”
Gram reaches across the table and covers my hand with her own. “Leo,” she says, “you should come too.”
“I can’t. Neither can you. Mom would lose her mind.”
Gram sighs. “Your mother enjoys losing her mind. No matter what we do or say, she is not going to let anybody take that pleasure away from her.”
Gram is right about that. My mother is a preschool teacher in Allentown’s Tiny Tots Downtown Preschool. In her free time, she worries about all the ways her students are turning their brains to mush by eating glue, skipping naps, and playing video games.
“What about school?” I ask.
“School is two weeks away,” says Abbey. “We’re still on summer vacation. Speaking of which, have you done anything besides mope around this summer, Leo?”
“I haven’t moped around.”
“Have you spent any time with your friends? Have you worked on any of the projects that Pop left behind? Have you read a single book? I bet you’ve done nothing but hang around inside the house and miss your grandfather all summer.”
“Sounds like moping to me,” says Gram, “and I know moping.”
“I’ve been doing stuff!” I protest.
“What stuff?” Abbey asks.
“I don’t know. Stuff.”
“I bet there’s stuff in Utah,” she tells me. “And it will be Utah stuff, which is much better than Pennsylvania stuff.”
“I like Pennsylvania stuff.” I turn to my grandmother. “You can’t just hop in a car and drive to dinosaur land.”
Gram stands. “I’m old, I’m able, and I’ve got an extremely high credit limit. Dinosaur land is definitely within my reach.” She gathers up her books and magazines and maps, she slides out of the booth, and then she heads for the door.
“No,” I say. “No. No. No.” I sound like that annoying goldfish in The Cat in the Hat, but I really don’t care.
“It will be an adventure!” Abbey tells me.
I ignore my cousin and follow Gram outside, where she stomps toward the big yellow Buick at the curb. Fumbling for the car keys, she drops her maps and papers. I gather everything off the ground, then jog around to the passenger side. When I get there, Gram power-locks the doors, starts the engine, and lowers the electric window a crack. “Are you coming with me?” she asks.
“I don’t want an adventure,” I say.
“The best adventures are always the ones you don’t want.”
“I want to go home.”
“Say you’ll come with me.”
“Home, yes. Dinosaurs, no.”
Gram grabs the big shift lever below the steering wheel and puts the car into gear.
“You are not leaving me here!” I try the door again. It’s still locked.
“I hope not!” With that, Gram stomps on the gas. The engine roars, her tires scream, I release the door handle, and Gram tears away. I am left alone on the curb with nothing but a cloud of dust, an armful of papers, and the red-and-green glow of a blinking neon donut sign.
Some years ago, I met the kind, talented, and very generous Laurie Halse Anderson. Back then, she asked me about my children, who were very young. “They are going to grow,” Laurie warned me. “That’s going to change you. That’s going to change the stories you tell. Don’t fight it.”
Thank you to Laurie for the warning and the very good advice. Most especially, thank you to my now young-adult children—Gabrielle and Nicholas—for inspiring me every day.
As a father to a teenage daughter, I’ve been thinking a lot about forces that help and hinder girls. Thank you to family, friends, artists, teachers, preachers, and mentors who, through your work, your words, and your example encourage and inspire girls everywhere to choose paths that are brave, happy, healthy, and smart.
That brings me to Cyndi Lauper. It has been a joy to spend so much time with this woman’s voice in my head. In her music, in her writing, and in the important and beautiful work she does for young people and adults, she’s got a lot to say. People should listen.
On a separate note, I’d like to get one thing straight: this book is not about my mother. My mom has never fronted a rock and roll band (though she does have a really pretty singing voice), she’s never gone missing, and her fashion choices are not inspired by Cyndi Lauper. That said, I have a feeling that my mom and Ms. Lauper would like each other a lot. If anybody can make that meeting happen, please give me a call.
As always, I have an army of family, friends, and colleagues who encourage and support my storytelling habit. I deeply appreciate every one of you, especially my wife, Debbie, who I fall in love with every day.
Special thanks go to my agent, Susan Hawk, and my editor, Nancy Mercado. Having you both in my life makes me a better writer and a better person. It is also a special treat for me to be part of both the Upstart Crow and the Scholastic families.
Finally, thank you to readers everywhere for making books and stories a necessary part of life.
Paul Acampora has written four novels and people have said really nice things about each of them. Kids, parents, and critics praise his work for its laugh-out-loud humor, rollicking dialogue, and heartfelt exploration of what it means to be human. Of his most rece
nt novel, How to Avoid Extinction, School Library Journal said, “A cast of memorable characters, intelligent banter, and wry humor reminiscent of Richard Peck or Gary Paulsen make this an authentic and unforgettable journey.” You can find Paul online at paulacampora.com.
Copyright © 2018 by Paul Acampora
GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN
Words and Music by Robert Hazard
Copyright © 1979 Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
All Rights Administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,
424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219
International Copyright Secured
All Rights Reserved
Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard LLC
I FOUND LOVE
Words and Music by Steven VanZandt and Maria McKee
Copyright © 1986 Blue Midnight Music and Little Diva Music Corp.
All Rights for Blue Midnight Music Controlled and Administered by Almo Music Corp.
All Rights for Little Diva Music Corp. Controlled and Administered by BMG Rights Management (US) LLC
All Rights Reserved
Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard LLC
TIME AFTER TIME
Words and Music by Cyndi Lauper and Rob Hyman
Copyright © 1983 Rellla Music Corp. and Dub Notes
All Rights for Rellla Music Corp. Administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,
424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219
All Rights for Dub Notes Administered by WB Music Corp.
International Copyright Secured
All Rights Reserved
Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard LLC and Alfred Music
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
ISBN 978-1-338-20999-0
First edition, June 2018
Jacket art © 2018 by Tara O’Connor
Jacket design by Nina Goffi
e-ISBN 978-1-338-21001-9
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
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