How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied (19 page)

Mom nodded with recognition, but she was still suspicious. Her hand gripped mine tighter. “Yes…”

Grandpa smiled. “Well, I've been thinking, a little time at sea should be mandatory for all kids.” He gestured widely, with a faraway look in his eyes.

I did not like where this was going.

“Dad…” Mom said. Her voice was low. “What did you do? You know we can't send the kids on some boat right now.”

Boat?! Who said anything about a BOAT?!

“Mom…?” I said, panicked. I squeezed my nails into her hand, telepathically communicating my terror. Beside me, Daz was practically bouncing out of his skin.

Grandpa shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “There's no boat this time, although that
would
be a great plan.” Sugar nodded sagely, but kept her lips pursed.

Already I was feeling seasick.

“
But
, I did manage to wrangle some resources together.
Secretly.
Which is very hard to do around here, I'll have you know.” He winked and led us toward the construction signs behind him.

Dad glanced nervously at me, tugging at his mustache. We followed behind Grandpa slowly, like he might lead us into a lion's den. Which, knowing him, he totally would do.

“And I'm very happy to report that it has been a success. We're not completely finished with the renovation, but we're going to go public soon. I just wanted you to know first, before Sugar and I leave for Los Angeles tomorrow,” Grandpa said.

“Know what, Shep?” Dad said. Always the voice of reason. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his mustache was twitching.

“Glad you asked, Henry,” he said, waving us closer. He threw open the plastic tarp around the pavilion door and we all stepped inside. The first thing that hit me was the cool air.

Well, that and the fishy smell.