Tiger in Trouble (3 page)

Satisfied that I’d pretty well listed all available problems, I decided it was time to get to sleep. I wondered how many holes were in the ceiling tiles over my bed.

“Okay, is everything turned off?” my mother asked, talking more to herself than to me as she started to check things for the third time.

There is absolutely no question where I got my paranoid side from. She scurried around the house, unplugging electrical appliances, jiggling the handles of the toilets to make sure they wouldn’t run over and checking to see that all the windows were closed and locked.

“Everything’s fine,” I said reassuringly as she made another pass through the kitchen.

“I just want to make sure. It would be awful if something happened to the house while we were away, and we’re going to be gone for a whole week.”

“But it isn’t as if the house is going to be abandoned,” I pointed out. “Mr. McCurdy said he’d come by every day and check on things.”

We’d driven over to his place last night, right after we’d cleaned up the kitchen, to drop off the leftover Chinese food. As soon as he found out that my mother was going away, too, he offered to watch the house.

Actually that was the second thing he did after hearing her news. The first thing was to shoot me a smug little smile that said, “Told ya!” His being right didn’t surprise me, because he usually was.

Mr. McCurdy was smart, maybe the smartest person I knew, including my mother. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t smart — she’d been to university, was a lawyer and dealt with pretty complex issues in court — it was just that he was smart in a different way. He was, well, I don’t know … wise. He reminded me of those old guys in cartoons who sit on the tops of mountains and then people climb all the way up to ask them the meaning of life. I’d never asked him that question, but if I did, I was pretty sure he’d have an answer.

I once told him I thought he was pretty smart. After he stopped laughing, he asked me how anybody who’d only been to high school a couple of years could possibly be smart. He said I was confusing smart with old, and that you couldn’t help but learn a thing or two as you got older. It was, he said, just like walking across a really muddy field — the farther you walk, the more mud flies up and sticks to you. I knew it was more than that. Lots of people grow older without ever getting any smarter. Heck, there were some people, like my father, who managed to grow older without even growing up.

I made a mental note. That might be something else I’d say to my father when I saw him again. Of course, there was no telling when that might be. At least he was writing us more regularly now, and he did give us this trip … although I didn’t know if that was such a good thing.

“That’s it,” my mom said. “Everything’s okay. We have to get going. Where’s your brother?”

“He’s in the living room on the phone.”

“Again? Who’s he talking to now?”

“Probably his girlfriend.”

“His
what
? No wait,” she said, holding her arms up in surrender. “I don’t want to hear about it … not now … and maybe not later. Nick, get off the phone! We have to get going!”

“I’m off,” Nick called out as he pushed through the door and into the kitchen.

“Good. Then get your bags and get out to the car.”

“My bags are already out there. I was ready a long time ago. I was just waiting for you two to be ready.”

I looked at my mother. “Are you sure you don’t want to take him with you?”

She smiled. “Thanks for the offer, dear, but I think he belongs with you. Now we better get going or we’ll miss our flights, and then we’ll both have him for the week.”

I picked up my two bags — a little carry-on and a big suitcase that contained everything I’d need for the next seven days. Then I pushed open the door, walked out and propped it open with my leg to allow my mother to get out, and … where had she gone to?

“Mom?”

“Coming!” she called, hurrying through the kitchen and clutching her two bags. “I just had to check to make sure the curling iron was unplugged.”

I almost laughed. She always had to go back and check on that iron. It got to the point where my father had once packed it in the trunk of the car without telling her. Half a block from home, when she said she needed us to turn around to check it, he simply pulled over to the side of the road, opened the trunk and pulled it out. My brother, my father and I all thought it was hilarious. But she didn’t think it was that funny.

Nick was already at the car, sitting on the hood, his bags by the trunk. We hurried over to him.

“I’ll just pop the trunk, we’ll put the bags in, and —” My mother stopped mid-sentence at the sound of a car coming up our driveway. It was Mr. McCurdy driving his big, old Lincoln convertible, with the top down. Sitting in the back, leaning over the seat and peering through the windshield was Calvin, who loved a car ride. Mr. McCurdy skidded the car to a stop in front of us, and a plume of dirt and dust blew over and past us.

“I was hoping I wasn’t too late!” he called out.

“We should already be gone, but we got distracted checking on things,” my mother said. “It was sweet of you to come and say good-bye.”

“I didn’t come to say good-bye. I came to give the three of you a ride to the airport.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Mom said.

“Of course I don’t have to do it, but I want to. It’ll cost a fortune to leave your car in the parking lot for a week, and money doesn’t grow on trees … at least no trees I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a long way to go, and I don’t want to put you out,” Mom protested.

“It’s not that far, and certainly not far to travel to do a neighbour a favour.”

“But if I don’t bring my car, how will we get home from the airport at the end of our trip?” Mom asked.

“You’ll get back the same way you got there. Just write down your flight information, and I’ll be waiting there when you get back.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Mom said.

“But first things first. When do your flights leave?” Mr. McCurdy asked.

“Mine’s at ten-thirty-five, and the kids catch a flight at eleven-thirty,” Mom said.

“Well, then, that settles it. I’ll drive you all there, put you on your plane and stay with the kids to make sure they get on their flight safe and sound.”

“I’ll make sure they’re all checked in for their flight,” my mother said. “They’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure they will be, too, but won’t your flight be a whole lot easier if you know they’re being watched until they get on theirs?” Mr. McCurdy asked.

“Well … I really don’t want to put you to all that effort and —”

“Neighbours and family do stuff like this. Besides, if we stand here arguing much longer, you’ll all miss your flights. Now throw your luggage in my trunk and let’s get going!”

“Please, Mom,” Nick pleaded.

“Mr. McCurdy’s a great driver,” I added.

“Sure, why not!” she said. “But are you certain we can fit all our luggage in your car?”

Mr. McCurdy chuckled. “You could put your whole car in my trunk. I know for a fact there’s space in there for at least three hundred and sixty kilograms of luggage!”

Nick and I exchanged smiles. We knew exactly what he meant. The trunk of his car had been converted into a sort of mobile animal cage. He could put Buddha in there when he needed to move him from one place to another. There was even a special section between the back seats that popped out to allow fresh air and light in.

“Nick, get your mother’s bags!” Mr. McCurdy ordered, and Nick grabbed her luggage. Then we brought our bags over and put them in the trunk.

“Can I ride in the back?” Nick asked.

“Where else did you think you were going to ride?” I asked.

“No, I don’t mean in the back seat. I mean in the trunk!”

“Luggage in the trunk, people in the seats,” Mom answered as she climbed into the front.

I opened one of the back doors to take a spot beside Calvin. Nick slammed the trunk closed with a thud, then leaped in over the door on the other side. He practically landed on top of Calvin, who jumped over and into me.

“Calvin!” I exclaimed.

The chimp shuffled slightly over, blew me a kiss, then reached out and patted me on the head. I guess it could have been worse — sometimes he didn’t blow me a kiss but planted a wet one on my cheek.

We started forward, and instinctively I reached down to try to put on my seat belt before I remembered that this car didn’t have any. It was so old that it was made before cars even had seat belts. We bumped down our driveway and then stopped at the road. Mr. McCurdy scanned the road in both directions. I was relieved to see he was wearing his special driving glasses. They were a pair of ladies’ cat’s-eye glasses covered in rhinestones. Of course, as long as he could see well when he was wearing them, it didn’t matter if they looked silly.

The way was clear, and he turned onto the road, then quickly picked up speed. The wind whistled over the top of the windshield and blew my hair back. There was no way to keep your hair from becoming a total mess in a convertible. It was probably the most impractical car in the world, which made it hard to explain why I liked driving in it so much.

The only person who seemed to enjoy it as much as I did was Calvin. Well, I guess you could call him a person. He loved nothing better than going for a car ride. Mr. McCurdy always made him sit in the back, and Calvin would prop himself up, lean against the front seat and stare through the windshield. The only thing funnier than watching Calvin checking out the world as we drove was watching people checking him out. I understood people’s reactions — it wasn’t every day you saw a chimp in a convertible — but I swear there were times when it seemed as if people were going to run themselves right off the road. I leaned back and decided to enjoy the drive.

In what seemed like a flash, we pulled into the airport parking lot and came to a stop. Mr. McCurdy drove a lot faster than my mother did, and we still had plenty of time to get checked in and onto our flights.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” my mother said as we started to pull the luggage out of the trunk. “But what about Calvin? I don’t think they’ll let him into the airport.”

“What if you claimed he was your seeing-eye monkey?” Nick asked.

“Hey, that just might work — nah, we better not,” Mr. McCurdy said with a chuckle. “He’ll wait out here in the car.”

“Is that safe?” my mother asked.

“Sure, he’ll probably just lie down and have a little nap. Besides, if he waits here I can be darn sure nobody’s going to mess with my car. This thing’s a classic, you know.”

“But aren’t you worried somebody might bother or hurt Calvin?” Mom asked.

“Calvin?” all three of us said at once.

“I can’t even think of anything strong enough, or stupid enough, to bother Calvin,” Mr. McCurdy said. “He’ll be fine. I figure anybody dumb enough to tangle with Calvin probably doesn’t deserve to keep all their body parts.”

My mother looked confused.

“Mom, he’s a full-grown male chimpanzee,” I explained. “If he wanted to, he could rip a man’s arm right out of the socket and then beat him over the head with it.”

Now instead of confused she looked shocked.

“But he wouldn’t do that,” Mr. McCurdy reassured her. “Most likely he’ll just lie down in the back seat and have a nap.”

Almost to show that he did understand everything we said, Calvin stretched, yawned and plopped down on the seat.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” I suggested.

“Yes, we should,” my mother agreed.

“Take it easy, Calvin,” Nick called out, and a long, hairy arm appeared and waved good-bye. Then Calvin sat up, puckered his lips and blew us a big kiss before lying back down.

We picked up our bags, and Mr. McCurdy slammed the trunk shut with a thud. He tried to take one of my mother’s bags but she insisted she had to carry them both. We hurried into the terminal, moving as fast as we could with our luggage. There were people around, but it wasn’t particularly crowded. Certainly not like it would have been in a big airport. I wondered how busy it would be at the other end.

•

Saying good-bye to Mom was a lot harder than saying good-bye to Calvin. There were real kisses and even a few tears, mostly from Mom and me. I could tell Nick was working hard not to let us see he was fighting back tears. He always had to be so cool.

We all stood at the big glass window and waved as Mom got onto the plane. When it inched away from the terminal, we kept waving. We didn’t know if she was on the side of the plane where she could see us, but we had a fifty-fifty chance. I kept watching as it started down the runway, and then I began to say a silent prayer. Takeoffs and landings are the most dangerous times — I’d read that somewhere.

The plane started to really move now, faster and faster, and then it separated from the ground and climbed into the air. I continued to watch, trying to keep it safe, until it became smaller and smaller and finally disappeared.

I turned around and saw Mr. McCurdy standing right there beside Nick. For a few seconds I’d forgotten he was even there, and I had a sudden rush of gratitude. I knew I didn’t really need him there, but it was nice just the same.

“She’ll miss you, too,” Mr. McCurdy said. “Now let’s get you two over to your gate for boarding before you miss your plane.”

“Missing our flight would be okay,” Nick said.

“No, it wouldn’t,” I said.

“We could stay at home, or even with Mr. McCurdy.”

“Nick,” I cautioned.

“Maybe we wouldn’t even have to tell Mom we didn’t go and then —”

“Nick,” Mr. McCurdy growled, cutting him off.

“Okay, okay, you can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

“Don’t go worrying none, Nick.” Mr. McCurdy said. “Your girlfriend can do just fine without you for a week.”

“You know he has a girlfriend?” I questioned.

“I’ve met her.”

“You have? When? Where?”

“Oh, about a month or so ago. Nick brought her out to my place.”

“Where was I?” I asked.

“Band practice, or something silly like that,” Nick said. “Tori’s mother offered to drive me home from school, and on the way we stopped at Mr. McCurdy’s to see the animals.”