Max's Revenge: a wedding, a party and a plate of dog food stew

by Sally Gould

PARTY

  I stared out the window of the station wagon. I’d almost forgotten what blue sky looked like because I’d spent so much of the last two weeks indoors. Humungous houses lined the wide street we were driving along, but I could barely see the houses because big old trees hid them.

  I’d been grounded since the day after Dan and Sophie’s wedding. The day Aunt Evil told Dad how I’d decorated her car. I wasn’t even allowed to go to swimming training. I threatened Mom I’d get fat, then, in one go, I ate a whole packet of Tim Tams. So Mom didn’t buy any more and then she told Charlie why. He threw his tennis racquet at me. I ducked.

  Every day I went straight to school. At three o’clock I came straight home again. I spent most of the time in my room. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, play Xbox or go on the computer (unless it was for homework).

  That was the loophole - homework. I spotted it straight away. I invented a school project on global warming - a worldwide catastrophe needs lots of time on the Internet.

  But there was one problem. I had to use Charlie’s computer, because my Internet had been blocked while I was grounded, and I didn’t want him around when I was talking to Lucy on Skype. So we made a deal. He would practice playing his electric guitar at five o’clock every afternoon in my bedroom, while I used his computer.

  Of course, he isn’t that nice. I had to do one of his weekly jobs. The worst one. On Wednesday nights, I had to empty every wastepaper basket into the smelly kitchen bin, take that garbage out to the big green bin and wheel it out to the street. It stank, but it was worth it.

  Lucy and I Skyped at five every afternoon after she finished athletics training. I reckon we were meant to meet. I reckon on the day of Dan’s wedding all the planets lined up for us.

  Of course, when Dad found out I’d trashed Aunt Evil’s car I didn’t mention Lucy. Dad got me in his study and fired questions at me like I was a whacko terrorist. All the blood went to his face and he looked like he was about to have a seizure. I had to convince him that Sophie’s brothers had no idea what I’d done before he calmed down a bit. He obviously thought I was beyond hope. He just wanted to make sure his little brother hadn’t married into some weirdo family.

  Dad stopped my pocket money too, saying I’d get it back again when he felt inclined. I only needed eighteen more dollars and I could’ve bought this new Xbox game. Now I’d never get it. Dad must’ve been a Nazi in his last life.

  And I had to go to bed at eight-thirty every weeknight. I might as well have been in prison. It was all Aunt Evil’s fault. Of course, I’d get revenge on her. I just hadn’t figured out how yet.

  Today I was allowed out because it was Archer’s birthday party. He’s Mom and Dad’s godson. He was only turning four, though, so it wasn’t like I was going to be having the best fun ever. Charlie got out of coming because he was going bowling with his friends. A bunch of girls were going too (Mom and Dad didn’t know about them). Charlie was the favorite; he got to do whatever he wanted.

  Dad had trouble finding a spot to park, and I knew why. It was because Archer’s parents are mega-rich and there’d be lots of people at the party. Their cars had already filled up the street. When I turned four I probably had about seven kids, including Charlie, at my party. Archer would probably have one hundred. Just imagine the presents.

  We pulled up in a side street. Dad huffed. He hated it when he couldn’t park close.

  I jumped out of the car with the present and ran to Archer’s house. Purple and black balloons were tied to the big black gate. The front door was open so I could see down the hallway and out to the backyard. It was as big as the park near our place, but their grass was so perfect it looked fake.

  Already a heap of kids were jumping up and down in a huge jumping castle. And they were all wearing black eye patches and pirate hats.

  Archer’s mom appeared in the hallway and smiled at me. “Max, come in!”

  “Hi.” I wondered if she knew what I did to Aunt Evil’s car. She probably did because she and Mom are best friends.

  She patted me on the back like I was four years old. “There are pirate dress-ups for everyone. If you’re too old—”

  “Nah, I’m okay,” I said a bit too fast.

  I heard Dad’s voice behind me. “Katherine, how are you?”

  Archer’s mom looked up and frowned. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” she said to Dad and Mom, “the pirate called a minute ago. He’s run out of petrol on the freeway and he might be too late.”

  Mom groaned.

  Dad pointed to the jumping castle. “Seems like they’ve got plenty to entertain them.”

  Archer’s mom looked as though she was about to cry. “But I promised a pirate. And they can’t jump up and down for two hours. What am I going to do with twenty four year olds?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Mom, “Max is great with little kids. He can entertain them. I bet he can think of lots of great games.”

  What! Slave labor again! I glared at Mom.

  She gave me that look. The one that said, You’ll do whatever I tell you to do, or else!

  Archer’s mom sighed. “Oh, that’d be fantastic.” Smiling, she asked, “Is that all right with you, Max? Of course, I’ll pay you instead of the pirate.”

  Money! I only needed eighteen dollars. The pirate would get more than that. Actually, the pirate would get heaps. I could buy something else as well. Plus, I really didn’t mind playing with little kids. Not that I’d tell anyone.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  Behind me, Dad whispered, “Max, no trouble!”

  2. PIRATE MAX

  I left our present on the table with the million other presents and headed for the jumping castle.

  “Max!” Archer the Pirate flung his arms out and launched himself at me in one jump.

  Lucky for me, I caught him. “Wow, Archer, you’re FOUR!” I lowered him to the ground.

  He drew his sword and thrust it into my chest. “Got to be a pirate to jump.”

  I stepped back. “I forgot to get my dress-up.”

  “Here,” he said, pulling me by the hand and running over to where the parents sat in the shade. They were already sipping champagne and stuffing themselves - typical. Dad was standing away from the others and talking on his cell. I heard him say, Yes, Avril, she’s getting older. We all are.

  Aunt Evil was always calling Dad and carrying on like a pork chop about something. Last time it was about me trashing her car.

  Near the back door there were boxes with different things in them. I took a pirate hat, an eye patch, a gold earring and a sword and belt. The striped T-shirt and vest were too small.

  Archer looked me up and down. “Good.” He ran back to his friends and I followed. He pointed to a boy who had a fake parrot stuck to his shoulder. “That’s Liam; he’s my bestest friend.”

  “Hi, Liam,” I said as I jumped.

  He mumbled something and jumped in the other direction.

  I waited for Archer to tell me the names of his other friends. He didn’t. He jumped away too. I clapped my hands, like I was Mr. Woodbridge, my teacher. I felt like I was in charge of an army of pirates. “Who wants to play a game?”

  “ME!” they all yelled back.

  Geez, now I had to think up a game. I couldn’t remember any games I’d ever played on a jumping castle. Actually, I’d probably never been on one this big. Even so, it was crowded. There must’ve been about twenty kids jumping as though they’d been switched on like a bunch of pirate dolls with supercharged batteries. “Who can do a trick? Like this.” I waved them back, jumped up and did a somersault.

  Some made shocked noises; they all looked amazed.

  Amusing these kids would be easy. “Anyone want to do a trick?”

  One after another they did all sorts of tricks. Madison jumped up and down while trying to pat her head and trace circles on her tummy with her other hand. She couldn’t do it, but she was still pleased with herself. Other kids bounced on their knees and on thei
r butts. Usually they couldn’t get up again - not that they cared. They were having too much fun.

  Archer’s mom came over and handed me a large plastic bag. “Max, here are some prizes. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Ryan.”

  She leaned toward me and whispered, “We’ll do a treasure hunt soon. I’ll bring the children inside and you can hide the chocolates.”

  “Okay.” Yum, chocolate.

  She left and I got the kids to make a circle in the middle. “Let’s play musical chairs,” I said.

  They looked around. “Where’re the chairs?” a couple of them asked.

  “This is musical chairs without the chairs,” I replied, enthusiastically. “You have to run around in a circle. When the music stops you have to get to any wall as fast as you can. The last one to reach a wall is out. We keep doing that until there’s one winner.”

  “Yippee,” they screamed, except for Liam, who wanted to know where the music was.

  Far out! I didn’t have any music. I glanced over at the parents; they were too far away to hear. “I’m going to sing.” What would I sing? I only knew the choruses of my favourite songs from the radio. I’d have to sing a school song. We learnt “Waltzing Matilda” in Music; it would have to do. I began to sing. I was out of tune, but they were so busy running around like maniacs it didn’t matter.

  Soon there were two left - Liam and Christina. When I stopped singing, Christina got to the wall of the jumping castle first. Christina had the biggest smile and jumped up and down as though she’d just won the Musical Chairs World Cup. But Liam looked crushed. Tears began to flow. Then he began to sob.

  It was only a game. I went over and put my arm around him. “Liam, you came second. You beat all those other kids.”

  He cried even louder.

  “And second place gets the same prize as first place.” I held out the opened bag. “You choose first.”

  As though I’d turned off a tap, he stopped crying. He peered into the bag and then his hands dived in and pulled out a racing car. Christina grabbed the bag from me and pulled out a bubble-making thing. She was happy.

  I turned round to see the other kids playing chasey and waving their swords around like they were in battle. I clapped my hands and two girls who were running toward each other glanced up at me. They banged heads, screamed and landed on their butts. They rubbed their heads and began to cry. Did kids have to cry all the time? I found out their names and comforted them.

  Paris asked through her tears, “Do we get a prize?”

  “Not yet.” I announced to the other kids, who had crowded around, “Everyone has to go inside and then we’re going to have a treasure hunt.”

  “Oh,” they all gasped and ran inside. Paris and Hannah jumped up and followed like they’d never been hurt. And Mom thinks I’m an actor.

  Mrs. Ryan came over and gave me a large bag of individually wrapped chocolate caramels. “I’ll keep them busy with pass the parcel. We’ll have the party food after the treasure hunt.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Ryan.” Yum; I was starved.

  She squeezed my arm. “You’re a lifesaver, Max.”

  She headed for the house and I went behind the jumping castle and shoved a whole chocolate caramel into my mouth. If I did a really good job Dad might say my punishment was over. Then I could go to Chook’s party.

  I hid most of the chocolate caramels in the bushes around the backyard. It wasn’t that easy to find hiding places because they had to be low enough to reach, and in the shade so they wouldn’t melt. In the corner of the yard, Archer had a fort that had a sandpit under it. I put a couple on the steps and one in every truck in the sandpit. Two were left. I crouched down with my back to the house. I stuffed the wrappers in my pocket and stuffed them in my mouth. I didn’t want the kids to be too full to eat the party food.

  When I finished, I sprinted over to tell Archer’s mom I was ready. I stopped, unable to believe my eyes. I felt sick all of a sudden. Aunt Evil, wearing a bright red skirt and red high-heeled shoes, was next to the party table talking to Dad. She was showing him a brochure. Archer’s dad handed her a glass of something. Oh, no! She didn’t even know Archer or his mom and dad. What was she doing here?

  3. ICE-CREAM CAKE

  It was times like this I needed a superpower to make her disappear in a puff of smoke. I gripped my plastic sword and thought murderous thoughts.

  First, I ran inside to where the kids were sitting in a circle on a massive rug. They threw a large parcel around the circle like it was a grenade about to explode. I could hear the Wiggles singing “Hot Potato”. When the music stopped, Jackson opened one layer of the parcel. He pulled out a bubble-making set. Unbelievable! There was a prize in every layer of wrapping. Archer was so lucky. Maybe I could live here; there was plenty of room.

  I whispered to Archer’s mom that I’d finished hiding the treasure. “Do you want me to do anything?” I added.

  “Could you take some of the food on the kitchen bench out to the party table?” she replied, before she turned off the music again.

  “Sure.” I went to the kitchen, where there seemed to be enough food to feed a whole school. I helped myself to some chips before I took the bowl outside.

  Aunt Evil was pointing her finger at Dad. She said, “You should visit this place; I know she’d be happy there.”

  Dad rubbed his chin as though he were thinking hard. “Of course, I’ll have a look.”

  They hadn’t seen me. I busied myself lining up the pirate paper plates and cups in their proper places like Mom would, listening.

  I heard Aunt Evil say, “She’s got worse in the last few months. Yesterday we looked everywhere for her glasses. At dinnertime I found them in the oven.”

  Dad laughed. “That’s who I get it from.”

  I realized they were talking about Nanna. Aunt Evil wanted to put her in a home with lots of other old people. She must’ve found somewhere to put her. Poor Nanna. I ran back inside, grabbed a platter of fruit and returned to the party table. Aunt Evil turned round and saw me when I opened the back door. I squinted and gave her a nasty glare.

  “Hello Max,” she boomed, “not destroying anyone’s car today?”

  I was trying to think of some smart reply when Archer’s mom appeared next to me.

  A hint of worry showed on her face before she smiled. While all the kids streamed out the back door, she said to me, “Treasure hunt time.”

  Archer waved at me, “Come on.”

  I put down the fruit platter and followed the kids. Aunt Evil would have to wait. I watched the kids scramble over each other to find the chocolate caramels. I’d get revenge on Aunt Evil, but no one would discover I had anything to do with it. Then I wouldn’t get into more trouble. I’d be clever. Charlie wasn’t the only smart one.

  The treasure hunt didn’t go to plan. Some of the kids ended up with as twice as many chocolate caramels as the others. I quickly made up a rule that everyone was only allowed two each, which led to a bunch of tantrums and more tears. I tried to coax Liam into giving up two of his four chocolate caramels to Madison because she had none. They were both bawling their eyes out.

  I felt tired all of a sudden and wished the real pirate would get here. When I grew up, I wouldn’t have kids; I’d have dogs. They didn’t cry.

  Behind me, Archer’s dad called out, “Food’s ready. Come and get it!”

  In a flash, the tears stopped and every single kid dashed to the party table. I sat down on a baby chair in between Christopher and Maddie. There was quiet for ten minutes while we stuffed our faces full of mini hot dogs and party pies. Then Sam sucked up Fanta in a straw and blew it over Jackson. Before I could tell Sam that was a bad idea, they were all doing it. Some of the parents moved in and got them to stop and finish eating.

  Archer’s mom brought out an ice-cream cake with sparklers. It was a pirate’s face. We sang “Happy Birthday” and Archer cut the cake with his mom’s help.

  For a few
moments all the kids were happy. Archer’s mom offered slices of cake, but no one wanted any, except me. All at once the kids got up and ran to the jumping castle.

  I finished my ice-cream cake before I followed. I needed the energy.

  “Let’s play another game,” Archer shouted to me as he jumped.

  I wanted to say, Let’s play dead, so I could have a rest. But I didn’t. I needed to make them tired. “Chasey?”

  “YES!” they yelled. They jumped off the castle and began to run round like lunatics.

  “I’ll be IT,” I called out. “And if you touch the fort, I can’t tag you. That’s the safe place.” I ran slowly while they giggled and ducked out of my reach.

  In a flash all the kids clung to the fort. “That’s not fair,” I said.

  They laughed as though they’d outsmarted me.

  “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. The safe place has to be a bit smaller.” I scratched my head and looked round the backyard. I could make it the enormous tree in the back corner. But they’d all manage to hold onto that as well. But hanging off the tree, there was a wooden swing and it was red. There was no way they could all hold onto that. “Anything red,” I yelled.

  All the kids screamed hysterically as though I was the boogieman about to get them. Then they fled. I let them go - I had to give them a head start because I was tired. Tired of babysitting. They raced toward where the parents were sitting. They mustn’t have even seen the red swing.

  When they saw I wasn’t chasing them yet they stopped at the party table and began to eat the ice-cream cake. Only no slices had been cut so they were picking off the decorations and eating them. Then Liam grabbed a handful of the ice cream. YUK. Even I wouldn’t do that. Then the others copied him. Why did I agree to look after them? I headed toward them.

  Archer’s mom saw them too. She rushed over to the table. But as soon as the kids saw me they screamed and took off, scattering among the parents.

  Then I saw red and I realized what I’d done. OH, NO! I WAS DEAD!

  4. THE PARENTS’ HELPLINE

  This isn’t happening, I said to myself. I stood still and watched twenty ice cream-coated hands grab Aunt Evil’s red skirt. All the kids, seeming pleased with themselves, looked over to me. For a nanosecond, Aunt Evil didn’t move and didn’t utter a word. Then she saw their hands and the state of her skirt. She screamed at the top of her voice as though an army of midgets was attacking her.

  I froze.

  Parents grabbed the kids by their wrists and dragged them inside to wash their hands. Aunt Evil wailed about her new skirt. Mom appeared with a damp cloth and tried to clean it.

  No one paid any attention to me. It was probably a good time to disappear, but that would make me look guilty. I picked up the platter of mushed up ice-cream cake and took it into the kitchen.

  Archer’s mom had Archer sitting on the kitchen bench and was cleaning his face and hands. She looked up.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Ryan.”

  “It’s not your fault, Max. You’ve done a wonderful job of entertaining the children. I’m sure they’ve enjoyed your games more than they would’ve enjoyed the pirate’s games.”

  She hadn’t realized it was sort of my fault. Maybe I’d be okay.

  Behind me, I heard Dad’s voice. “Archer,” he said softly, “why did you all hang on to the lady’s skirt?”

  Archer gazed at the floor and mumbled, “Safe place.”

  “Who said it was a safe place?”

  Archer pointed to me.

  “Archer,” I pleaded, “I didn’t say that. I said something red. Like the swing. Remember?”

  He shook his head.

  “And I didn’t tell anyone to get ice-cream cake, did I?”

  His face screwed up and he began to cry. His mom picked him up and cuddled him.

  I felt Dad grab the back of my T-shirt. He pushed me into the laundry and shut the door. The sound and speed of my heartbeat rocketed up to full blast. I wished I were Charlie. One of his alien powers was to disappear. I needed that power right now.

  I held my breath and stood still while Dad looked me up and down like I was the most hopeless son a father could have. I had two choices. I could try to defend myself or I could just take whatever he threw at me. I had a good defense, but I decided it wasn’t worth risking making him angrier.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and said, “Max, what are we going to do with you?”

  What did he want me to say? It’s not me who is the problem. It’s Aunt Evil. If you could arrange for her to get a job promotion to some faraway country, then you wouldn’t need to ask that question.

  He let out a big sigh. “Punishing you doesn’t work.” He held his forehead.

  For a moment I felt sorry for him. Then I remembered that he never listened to my side of the story. He only ever listened to his evil old sister.

  The laundry door opened and Mom stepped in. She whispered, “Avril is still distressed. We should go. I’ll say goodbye to Katherine and meet you at the car.”

  Dad nodded.

  WHAT! We were invited to the party, not Aunt Evil. So why was she staying while we were leaving? She probably wanted to stuff her face. “I have to say goodbye to Archer,” I said.

  “You can phone him tonight,” Dad said as he headed out through the kitchen.

  I huffed and followed him up the hallway.

  A pirate with a fake beard swaggered through the front gate. In a pirate voice he said, “Me hearties, the party can’t be over.”

  I shook my head. “We have to leave early.”

  He messed up my hair. “Never mind, me hearties. We’ll meet again on the high seas.”

  I glared at him. He’d get the money; not me. Now I’d never get that Xbox game. When I reached the sidewalk, I heard all the kids screaming, “The real pirate’s here!” That sucked.

  Dad was silent while we waited in the car for Mom. He must’ve been deciding what my punishment should be. He liked to think about it and try to come up with something new. It was like a game.

  Mom got in the car, turned round to me and gave me a weak smile. That meant she didn’t blame me but there was no way she’d stick up for me against Dad. And I didn’t blame her. She probably knew as well that he was a Nazi in his last life.

  We clicked in our seatbelts and Dad started the car. Mom put on a classical music CD. She only did that when she was stressed.

  “Sorry for embarrassing you,” I said to Mom.

  She turned round. “You did a great job looking after the kids. I don’t know why Avril turned up.”

  Dad hit the steering wheel and exploded, “There’s only one person to blame here. Max told the kids that anything red was the safe place. And the only red thing in the whole backyard was her new skirt.”

  “And the swing,” I added. “I meant the swing.”

  “And I think there were a few red flowers in the garden,” Mom mumbled.

  Good old Mom. “What’s my punishment?” I asked.

  “Punishment!” Dad yelled. “What’s the point? Punishing you doesn’t work.”

  Mom whispered, “Perhaps we should only reward him for good behavior.”

  “We’ve tried that.”

  Yeah, they’d tried that. Once there was a big poster stuck up in the kitchen. It was divided into Charlie’s half and my half. Mom used to give us gold stars when we were good. Charlie always had more stars than me. So, one day, I bought a packet of gold stars at the newsagent. I shouldn’t have stuck on eleven more stars at once.

  We were silent all the way home. But as soon as Dad turned off the car, he said, “I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to call the Parents’ Helpline.”

  Mom looked at him like he’d gone mad. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. But he seemed very pleased with himself.

  “Yes,” he announced, “should’ve done it years ago. How could any parent be expected to cope with such a problem?”

  5. MRS. BRIGHT

  The next night, afte
r dinner, the doorbell rang. I knew who it was. I pretended to go to the upstairs bathroom, but I stayed on the landing and listened. I heard Dad’s heavy footsteps go up the hallway. Mom followed him. The door opened. I heard Dad say, “Mrs. Bright, come in. I’m Robert; this is my wife, Clare.”

  Then I heard Mom say, real casual, “Let’s go in the sitting room.” Mom was so predictable. All afternoon she’d been madly tidying up and cleaning as though Princess Mary was coming for dinner. She’d even polished the kettle. She probably wouldn’t see this woman from the Parents’ Helpline again but, I guess, Mom thought a perfect house meant that she was a perfect mother. At least she would be if she didn’t have a problem son.

  Mrs. Bright replied, “Actually, I’d like to sit at the dining table. If that’s all right with you?”

  “Of course,” said Mom.

  “And Max should join us.”

  I flew into the bathroom, flushed the toilet and came out again.

  “Max,” called Dad.

  I took my time coming down the stairs so I got a good look at Mrs. Bright. She was sitting in Dad’s spot at the head of the table. She looked like a fairy godmother. Her long silver hair was in a loose bun; her glasses sat halfway down her nose. The white lace around the edges of her light-blue dress made her look like she’d been telling parents how to deal with their problem sons for a couple of hundred years.

  She saw me and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Max.”

  “Hello,” I said and sat down next to her. I liked the sound of her voice. It was warm and friendly and reminded me of Nanna. I know if I’m going to like someone by the sound of their voice.

  Dad leaned forward over the table like he couldn’t wait to get on with it. I leaned back in my chair, real casual.

  Mrs. Bright clasped her hands and asked Mom and Dad, “So, you want to discuss parenting techniques?”

  “We’d like your advice,” Dad replied. “We’ve tried every technique in the parenting book, but we can’t seem to get through to Max. He always takes things too far.”

  “Any examples?”

  I slid down in my chair.

  Just as I expected, Dad went on and on. He began with dumb things I’d done years ago, when I was little. Little kids do stupid things - that’s normal. Finally, Dad got to things I did this year. Things that showed I had imagination. Then he gave Mrs. Bright a very detailed description of how I’d decorated Aunt Evil’s car at Dan’s wedding and how, yesterday, I’d forced an army of four year olds to attack Aunt Evil with ice-cream cake.

  I didn’t bother to try to defend myself. Mom and Dad can’t see that Aunt Evil is evil. I don’t know why. And if I tried to tell Mrs. Bright my side of the story, Dad would accuse me of CONTRADICTING him. And he hated being contradicted more than he hated me doing stuff, like putting sardines under the hood of Aunt Evil’s red Merc.

  Mrs. Bright smiled at me. “So Max, you’re a normal boy with a tad too much energy. Do you play any sports outside school?”

  In my poor me voice, I replied, “Not when I’m grounded.”

  “Oh.” She took off her glasses and nodded. She said to Mom and Dad, “I don’t think stopping a boy like Max playing sport will help in the long run.”

  Maybe it was good that Dad had called the Parents’ Helpline. Mrs. Bright seemed to understand me. She might be my fairy godmother in disguise.

  She continued, “Sport will channel his excess energy in a positive way. More problems can be created by cooping kids up in the house.”

  I covered my mouth and coughed to hide the grin on my face. I’d be back at swimming training tomorrow.

  “Max,” she said to me, “tell me about your Aunt Avril.”

  “She’s evil,” I replied. “She’s always telling Charlie and me what to do and she loves it when we get in trouble. She told Sophie not to let me be the pageboy at her wedding.”

  Dad interrupted, “Avril didn’t tell you to climb the flagpole outside the church, or wreck her car or incite Archer and his friends to ruin her skirt. You made those choices.”

  “Children don’t tend to like relatives telling them how to behave,” said Mrs. Bright. “Max, that doesn’t excuse the things you’ve done. Now in a minute I’m going to discuss privately with your parents some parenting techniques. First though, you’ve got to understand something very important. Your parents need a break from being parents for a while.”

  What did that mean? Boarding school?

  She asked Mom and Dad, “Do you have a friend or relative who could look after the boys? You need a holiday together - a child-free holiday.”

  In a nanosecond, Mom and Dad went from looking tired and miserable to looking like they’d won the lottery. Their silly grins told me they loved the idea.

  But they’d never been on a holiday without us. They wouldn’t leave us. Would they?

  Dad put his hand over Mom’s hand and squeezed it. Mom looked so relieved she had tears in her eyes.

  I felt sick.