The World of Coca-Cola, which is literally a museum about soda. It includes, and I’m not even kidding, exhibits like the Vault of the Secret Formula and Milestones of Refreshment. Mom is trying to be nice, I can tell, but her nostrils are flared and she’s got those two lines between her eyebrows that only show up when she’s trying not to stress about something. Of course Ladybug loves the whole thing—it’s bright red, first of all, which is her favorite color—and keeps saying, “I LOVE Coca-Cola!” which makes Mom’s eye start to twitch. Not a good sign. We did get a photo of Bruce with the giant stuffed polar bear figure….I have no idea what the bear has to do with soda, but it seems to be a big deal. Except that Root then started in about the melting of the polar ice caps and the bears losing their habitats and drowning or starving, and Ladybug started to cry. So then Root sang a song—“Polly Wolly Doodle All the Day”—until she was smiling again. Let me pause for a moment to allow the image of Root, singing and clapping, to truly sink in.
Now let me find a way to someday forget it. (Fat chance.)
There were tourists from all over the world at the King Center, and one of them started talking to Mimi. Well, of course Mimi went into the whole story of our train journey, and the woman, who was very nice and from Germany (she spoke perfect English but had a kind of hilarious accent), asked if she could take a picture of us, as we were a “wonderful image of an American family.”
So we all lined up, Mom in her travel-practical capris and tank top, Mimi in a flowing sundress, Laurel in an Amnesty International T-shirt with a bandana on her head, Root looming tall and scruffy with his hemp shirt and sandals (really, people with such hairy toes shouldn’t wear sandals), and of course Ladybug and Bruce front and center. Mom tried to make me crouch in front with Ladybug, but I kind of folded myself behind them instead. When the woman finished, Travis and Gavin wandered over (both in their hats, obviously), and she insisted on taking another one with them in it. That time I totally ducked down and tried to hide. At least the cowboy hats make good cover.
Big news! We’re finishing up a “celebration” dinner, though the only thing I consider worth celebrating is the food. (Seriously. I’ve never in my life had fried chicken like this. Root had a salad that he had to return because it was covered in bacon.) Anyway, back to the celebration. Mimi got a phone call this afternoon, and…wait for it…a publisher is interested in her book! She’s barely written ten pages, and yet some big shot New-York-Publisher-Type Person found out about it and contacted her! Mimi was dithering and blathering like…like, well, like a dithering, blathering fool.
MIMI:
I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT! A very exciting announcement!
MOM:
(looks proud, holds Mimi’s hand)
LAUREL:
Oh, God. You’re not having another kid, are you? Because—
MIMI AND MOM:
(in total unison) No!
LADYBUG:
I WANT ANOTHER SISTER! FROG HAS THREE BROTHERS, AND I WANT THREE SISTERS! WOULDN’T THAT BE SO COOL?
MIMI, MOM, ME, AND LAUREL:
(in total unision) NO!
MOM:
(clearly trying to help) We have the perfect number of perfect daughters! It’s perfect!
LADYBUG:
We could be perfecter with one more!
SARA:
Did you know that “Magna Soror” is Latin for “big sister”? Isn’t that cool?
(pause as we all digest this)
MIMI:
(regrouping) Anyway. This is about my journey to publication, as well as our journey across the country! I got a call today from a woman named Krista Beverly, a very prominent publisher, and, well, I guess the National Rail has done a big publicity piece on the fellowship winners, and, um, she read my blog, and, well…
(blather and dither and more blather)
The upshot of all this is that a big-deal publisher is interested in Mimi’s book and wants to see the first fifty pages “absolutely as soon as they’re ready to be critically assessed,” and Mimi might have a book contract before we even get home.
The Texas Twins were having dinner with us, and Gavin whooped and hollered and ordered a bottle of champagne for the grown-ups and Sprite (in champagne glasses!) for the kids. Travis of course was smirking away, probably imagining a bestselling book that details our life. For instance, tonight Ladybug quietly dropped her asparagus tips into my water until I finally noticed and yelled at her to quit it. (Her reason? She thought they’d look like alligators underwater. I can’t even.)
Anyway, Travis and his smirk are the least of my concerns. The real issue? Apparently this Krista Beverly woman (and honestly…it sounds like two first names…maybe it was Beverly Krista, I don’t know) wants it to be “authentic and include multiple voices to enrich the text.” And what that means is that Mimi should try to include direct comments, thoughts, and words from the rest of us.
You know what words I’m offering? NO. COMMENT.
I know.
I know I should be happy for her. But I feel like screaming into my pillow or something. I don’t want to be written about! I don’t want to have her poking and wondering what I think about every last thing! But of course I want her to get a book published! Just…not this book!
It’s possible I’m a seriously horrible person.
Back at the hotel. Everything has gone from bad to worse. After the “celebration” dinner where I pretty much inhaled my fried chicken and tried to look like I was happy for Mimi, we came back here and Laurel announced that she and Root were going out.
MOM:
Where are you going?
MIMI:
Ooh, there are some great blues clubs, if you want to listen to music!
LAUREL:
Actually, there’s a huge protest—a “die-in”—in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.
ROOT:
It’s tremendously important to connect the challenges of the global environment to the challenges of racial and economic injustice! In fact, I recently read a blog post about an urban garden that was growing its own hemp—
MOM:
WHAT??
Needless to say, that did not go over well with Mom. She started shaking her head so hard that her bun fell out and her hair did a fast back-and-forth whiplash thing. “Absolutely not!” she said, still head-shaking at top speed. “No way. Given the recent legal troubles you two have had, you are not going out to participate in a ‘die-in’!”
Laurel was livid. She got all blotchy and red, which is what happens when she’s mad. “Our ‘legal troubles’ were dropped! And this is important! What happened to marching on Washington? What happened to the courage of your convictions?!”
“I was an adult!” Mom yelled.
Mom rarely yells. Mimi and Laurel are the yellers in the family, while Mom and I tend to get icy and silent. But she was yelling tonight. “I was a responsible adult who was taking a measured risk! You—”
“I’M ALMOST TWENTY YEARS OLD! Last time I checked, that makes me an adult too!” Laurel yelled back. “I can vote, I can join the army, and I can decide whether protesting injustice is worth the risk!”
Mimi tried to get involved, which I could have told her would go badly. “Hey! Hey, now, you lovely, passionate people, can’t we talk about this in a calm—”
“NO!” Mom and Laurel both yelled.
Laurel took a deep breath, in through her nose, out through her mouth. (Yoga breathing…I’ve been practicing.)
“I appreciate your concerns, and we’ll be careful. Ready, Root?” she said, and they were out the door. She didn’t even slam it, which is an improvement for Laurel, though it might have been that hotel doors don’t slam.
Mom went into the bathroom. Those doors definitely DO slam.
Mom and Mimi are arguing in that quiet, hope-the-kids-aren’t-listening kind of way they do. We have a multi-room suite, and since Root and Laurel are still out somewhere, I’m in the living room, where they’ll be sleeping.
I wish I were old enough to go out too, though I have no idea if I’d want to go to a “die-in,” which just sounds scary. Of course Laurel isn’t scared, but I can’t help wondering if Mom’s right. Anyway, I’d be too chicken for that, probably, but sometimes I honestly hate being twelve. It’s like a bad version of Goldilocks. I’m too old to go to sleep at eight-thirty after story time, and too young to head out into a strange city and protest systematic injustice, whatever that actually means. I don’t even know what would be my version of Goldilocks’s Just Right on this trip. Having a friend would help, that’s for sure. Anyway, I’m trying not to listen, but Mom’s voice is getting louder and louder.
“Why didn’t you back me up? Do you really think this is safe? Have you been reading the papers? People are getting into real trouble at these protests, and Laurel is so naive….She’s totally thoughtless about the repercussions of her actions!”
Mimi answered in a whisper. “She’s not any more naive than we were, protesting outside the Supreme Court for marriage equality.”
I silently scored one for Mimi. Our family had all gone to Washington, DC, for a rally that supported the right of all people to get married, and it hadn’t really been scary at all. Lots of rainbow signs and kids on parents’ shoulders.
“That was different! This is more…violent! It’s riskier.”
Mimi sighed, and through the open door I could see her turn away from Mom and go back to her computer. “Laurel has to choose her own risks, love. We all do. And like it or not, she is almost twenty.”
Mom snorted. “Twenty is NOT an adult,” she said. “No matter what she thinks.”
Then they were both quiet.
It’s totally silent now, other than the occasional tap-tap-tap of Mimi typing. Tomorrow we’re getting back on the train, after a few more hours of sightseeing in Atlanta. We have two days and another stop before we get to New Orleans, where we’ll spend time being tourists before switching to a different train and heading up toward Chicago. Suddenly I have a weird wave of homesickness, a desire to be back in Shipton with Amos and Boris purring at the foot of my bed, and the salty sea air, and the creak and clank of the window air conditioner trying to cool down the living room. I want to walk into the kitchen and find something to snack on and call Em to see if she wants to come over for a movie, even though it’s late.
It’s less than a week since we left home, but somehow it feels like it’s a million miles away.
Back at the train station in Atlanta, waiting to board. Laurel and Root came home last night after I was asleep, but apparently they were safe and fine, and Mom and Laurel were extra polite at breakfast.
There are tons of people here, people who Ladybug keeps crashing into as she zooms around, riding Bruce on that stupid X-wing fighter. I don’t even think she knows what it is….She’s never seen Star Wars, as far as I know. But anyway, she barely avoided landing Bruce on a dude in a business suit, and Mom finally snapped at her to stay close to one of us or else. Now Ladybug is pouting and Mom is pretending not to notice. Or maybe she really doesn’t notice—it’s hard to say. Mom’s good at bluffing.
Two skinny old women are hooting and laughing so loudly near us that Ladybug’s forgetting to sulk and is peering over, wondering what the joke is. I kind of wonder too….They’re laughing so hard, they look like they’re going to fall down.
Well, that’s interesting. As we were waiting to board the train, the Texas Turkeys came racing up, obviously rushing and running late. Gavin was panting and wiping his forehead with a giant bandana, while Travis bent over double with his hands on his knees. I guess Mr. Laugh at Everyone isn’t in tip-top shape! He should be doing yoga. But then the two old women who had been goofing around caught sight of them and came barreling over.
“GAVIN ALEXANDER! I thought you were going to stand us up!” one of them shouted.
“Who would blame him? He was probably trying to find a way to shake you like a bad habit,” the other one said.
They swatted at each other and kept trading insults while Gavin apologized and told them he and Travis were “ready for the shenanigans and couldn’t wait to get them on board.”
“Aunties, we wouldn’t dream of doing this without you! It wouldn’t even be worth the price of a ticket without your company,” Travis said, which I would have thought was sarcasm, but he seemed totally sincere.
In fact, now that I think about it, he’s always looking sincere. Hmmm. I assumed that giant grin of his was a scam, but maybe not. Nobody’s that friendly. At least not in Shipton.
Anyway, Gavin called us all over and made introductions. Apparently these old women are Part Two of the NTFs. There’s Miss Ruby, who is Travis’s great-aunt, and Miss Georgia, Miss Ruby’s best friend. They are literally almost ninety years old, but even after ten minutes it’s clear they’re total besties….They joke and argue constantly, and reminded me so much of Em and Vi that I got kind of homesick, watching. This is how sad my life is….I’m watching ninety-year-old women and feeling jealous.
As I said, INTERESTING. Suddenly Ladybug might not be the loudest thing on the train.
Fun Fact!
Travelers must reset their watches as they cross from the eastern to the central time zone. Those heading south (west) set watches back one hour. (This means we have an extra hour on this train. Oh joy.)
Fun Fact!
Alabama Power has seven dams on the Coosa River, making it the state’s most developed river. Hydroelectric power has proven valuable to the citizens of Alabama but costly to some species endemic to the main stem of the Coosa.
Not-So-Fun Fact!
According to Root, construction of the dams on the Coosa River played a role in wiping out thirty distinct freshwater species, which was one of the largest extinctions in the past century. Ladybug is now crying, and Root is singing another round of “Polly Wolly Doodle All the Day,” and now Travis has joined in on the chorus. Does Root not know any other songs???
We are sequestered. (Note: that’s a vocab word from last year, meaning “isolated or hidden away.” Cool, right?)
ANYWAY.
We are sequestered in the main seating area while Mom and Mimi try to get some work done. I guess this whole family-togetherness thing is not helping Mimi write. It’s not exactly surprising. When did she think she was going to work, if we’re all bonding and having meaningful conversations and taking in the sights and sounds of America? And Mom’s taking a break from being a real, in-court judge to teach law school, which should mean she has time off, but instead she’s forever on the phone with the dean of the law school or needs to “shoot a quick note” to the governor about Tort Reform or Jurisprudence or Corpus Seprestema (okay, I totally made up the last one, or maybe it’s a Harry Potter spell, but you get the idea).
So Laurel and Ladybug and Root and I are playing Two Truths and a Lie. Which can be fun—it’s a game where you tell three things. Two of them are true and one’s made up, and the other people have to guess. But Ladybug gets confused. Example:
LADYBUG:
I’ve got them! Here goes! First, I love kittens more than anything. Second, I love puppies more than anything. Third, I want a mouse.
LAUREL:
Um…
SARA:
Okay, puppies! That’s the lie!
LADYBUG:
(indignant) NO! I LOVE puppies! They’re all true!
SARA AND LAUREL:
…
Yeah. Eventually she got the idea, but really, it was most fun when Laurel and Root played. I learned all kinds of things. For instance, here’s one of Root’s:
1) I used to belong to FFA (Future Farmers of America).
2) I hate the taste of kale.
3) I hate giant trucks.
And guess what? HIS LIE WAS #3!!!! Turns out he used to want to be a long-haul truck driver when he was a kid, and he still likes it when they honk their horns. He seemed deeply conflicted by the pollution they cause, since he still dreams of driving one someday. And he
hates kale. Who knew??
FASCINATING.
Oh FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. I found this on my seat after lunch. What’s the story with this guy?
And OBVIOUSLY the lie is #3. He is seriously short.
Fun Fact!
Bryant-Denny Stadium in Tuscaloosa is the home of the Alabama Crimson Tide football team, which has won 12 national championships, produced 18 Hall of Famers, and notched the most bowl appearances and wins of any college team.
Semi-Fun Fact!
Travis hates the Alabama football team with the fire of a thousand suns and can do a pretty funny version of their Roll Tide chant, which is actually hilariously rude. Not that I’m listening to him.
We’re getting off the train again in a few minutes. Miss Georgia and Miss Ruby are arguing over something, and it seems to be escalating to poking and slapping.
Ah. The argument is over who peed on the seat in the train bathroom….Now they’re accusing Gavin, who assures them he “aims true like a Texan.”
I am seriously going to throw up.
Though honesty compels me to admit that it can be hard to be neat, if one is trying not to sit on the public train toilet but instead squat over it, and the train abruptly changes directions. NOT THAT I’M ADMITTING ANYTHING.
So far all I can really say about Alabama from the vantage point of the train station is that it’s Tarzan hot. I feel like I’m wearing a wet wool blanket. We’re waiting for a van that’s taking us to see the site of some ancient civilization called, and I’m not even kidding, Moundville. Seriously? That’s the best name they could come up with? Anyway, after that the van is taking us to Eutaw, which—according to the guidebook’s FUN FACT!—has 27 antebellum homes on the National Register of Historic Places. How will I contain my excitement?
This Would Make a Good Story Someday Page 5