Pat Schmatz - The Key to Every Thing

Morning sunbeams streamed through the window. Tasha closed her eyes and turned away.

You up? Her great uncle Kevin knocked, then opened the bedroom door. Awake?

Tasha nodded without opening her eyes.

Time to get up, said Kevin. Were leaving in twenty minutes.

He closed the door. Tasha rolled out of bed and got dressed. She kept her back to the window that faced the Captains Quarters next door. If Capn Jackie was watching for a morning salute, shed have to wait a long, long time.

Tasha passed Kevin in the hall on the way to the bathroom. She did not speak. She refused breakfast. When he said it was time to go, she picked up her heavy backpack and followed him out the door of their second-floor apartment. She trudged down the stairs behind him and out the back door of the duplex. As they crossed the backyard, she didnt even glance sideways at the leafy tunnel through the hedge to Capn Jackies.

Tasha opened the passenger door of Terkel, Kevins battered brown Tercel. She flipped the seat forward and crawled behind it, fastened her seat belt, and crossed her arms.

Bug. Kevin leaned into the passenger side door. His usually longish hair was buzzed short for his trip, leaving his forehead pale and bare. He hardly even looked like Kevin. Its a seven-hour drive. Youre not really going to backseat it the whole way, are you?

Tasha stared straight ahead. She was nobodys bug.

All right, then, have it your way. He clicked the front seat into place and eased the passenger door closed. Rounding Terkel, he folded his lanky body into the drivers seat. That means I choose the music all day.

Tasha stared straight ahead.

If you want to apologize to Capn Jackie before we go, Im happy to wait. Kevin turned to look at her. I dont know what all you said last night, but Im thinking it wasnt good.

No, it wasnt good. But even if Tasha was sorry and she wasnt, well, mostly not Capn Jackie wouldnt change her mind. Neither of them would.

That woman loves you with her whole heart. You know we couldnt get along without her.

Tasha thought maybe she could. Maybe. Shed never thought that before, but she thought it now.

Its not her fault, you know.

Tasha turned away, looking out the passenger window. There was no point in arguing. Kevin and Capn Jackie were teamed up against her, and they wouldnt listen to anything she said.

Okay. He turned back around and started the car. Stay mad if you need to. But eventually youll do the right thing. I know you.

If he really knew her, hed forget his stupid selfish trip to New Zealand and stay home for a normal summer. Hed send Grandfather McCorrys money back with a big No Thank You.

Instead, he backed out of the driveway and into the alley. Terkel rolled into the street and headed for the freeway.

Tasha was done talking, but that didnt stop the words from rolling around in her head. They rolled right along with the hum of the tires on the highway.

They both suck. Suck suck suck. They dont care about me. Kevin only cares about stupid New Zealand. Its probably not even a camp hes taking me to. Its probably an orphanage or a work camp or worse. Something sinister. A friggin Croc pit or something.

Even if it is just a stupid camp, theyre still banishing me. They think Ill come home and everything will be the same again. Well, you know what? It wont. Itll never be the same again. Not after throwing the key. And I didnt even mean to.

Why does that stupid key have to be such a big deal, anyway? It doesnt even open anything. I dont need a fake magic key. I just need to stay home with Capn Jackie. So what if she cant cook?

I cant feed you for a whole month. Youd starve.

We could have pizza. Ill make grilled cheese.

You cant live on cheese.

Id eat a carrot every single day. And an apple. Id be fine. We could work on the Home Alone project and watch movies and play Parcheesi and order pineapple on our pizza.

What happens when you pitch your eighty-seventh rager? And I pitch one back? And theres no Kevin to come home and separate us?

I wont. I wont pitch a single rager.

I need my downtime.

When you need downtime Ill go in my room and be quiet.

You can argue all day and all night, my Kid. The decisions been made.

Unmake it!

Its not mine to unmake. Youre going to do some growing up this summer. Youd best get started on it.

You just dont want me.

Nonsense. Stand up and take it on the chin.

Okay, so I shouldnt have thrown the key, and I shouldnt have called her a crazy old lady or said suck. But its not fair. None of its fair. They think they can push me around because Im a kid. So fine. Push me around. But you cant make me be nice about it.

I wont.

Twice for no.

No. No.

Bug. You awake?

Tasha peeled her sticky eyes open. They were in a parking lot. The sun was high and hot. She looked out the window and read the sign. KOUNTRY KRITTERS KAFE .

No.

You have to eat something.

Im not hungry.

You need to eat. I cant drop you off at camp like a starving junkyard dog.

Since when do you care? All you care about is New Zealand.

Kevin sighed and turned to face the front.

Look, he said. Youre right. I do care about New Zealand. But its not just that. I really do think this can be good for you. You know that. In your heart of hearts, you know it.

Tasha rolled her eyes up to Terkels ceiling. She shouldnt have talked. Now hed blahblah for hours about how great camp was and how great it was when he was a kid and how great it was that Grandfather McCorry was paying for it all.

Blahblah. No more talking.

Kevin made her go into the Kountry Kritters Kafe (who thought of that name?) and he ordered her a grilled cheese sandwich and fries and a shake that she did not touch, although she wanted to, but that would be acting like everything was okay and everything was not okay. Kevin ate a burger and blahblahed between bites. Tasha stared at the red-and-white-checked tablecloth.

The drive to camp took forever, but suddenly they were turning off the freeway, under trees, onto a dirt road. Squirmy little twisters woke up in Tashas stomach. Good thing she hadnt eaten that lunch or shed be barfing all over Terkel. Then Kevin would be sorry. Maybe she should have eaten. Kevin wouldnt leave a barfing kid behind, would he?

Tasha was still thinking about barfing when Kevin introduced her to the camp director. She nodded hello, but she did not open her mouth. Same with the counselor. Tasha did not speak as Kevin carried her trunk and set it next to a bunk bed.

Maddie! A skinny girl with a single long braid ran from the other side of the little cabin and threw her arms around another kid who was just coming in. Oh my God, oh my God, were in Hinky Haven!

Screaming laughter. Jumping up and down. Kevin made Tashas bed, tucked her pajamas under the pillow, and led her out the door. They walked away from the cabins and the cars and the people and the noise. He stopped under a big tree next to a tennis court.