I, Emma Freke (21 page)

“Emma, what are you talking about?” cried Abby. “You're the prettiest one here!”

The twins nodded in agreement.

“Huh?” was all I could manage to say.

And then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lake. Something had changed. I no longer looked like a total freak. In fact, I didn't look half bad.

We dropped off our dirty dishes and rinsed our rammies for the last time. Then we all headed back to our sites to pack. I was surprised, but not really, to find my tent had been dismantled and taken away. My backpack and sleeping bag were tucked under the birch tree.

“When did you do that, Emma?” asked Morgan.

“I didn't.”

Megan looked confused. “Then who did?”

“I guess the same mysterious person who set it up when I arrived.” I grinned to myself, thinking this was probably Fred's way of saying so long.

As I gazed around and studied the cozy meadow, slightly smashed from all our stuff, I wondered if I would ever come back again. I hoped so. I now had a very warm place in my heart for Wisconsin and, especially, New Thule.

“Walk you out?”

Abby was standing under the birch tree holding my sleeping bag, smiling as always.

I gave the twins a big hug, and we promised to keep in touch. And as Abby and I strolled through the campground, I hugged all the aunts, uncles, and cousins goodbye, thanking them for so much
Frecky
fun.

“Emma!”

Aunt Rose and Uncle Herman raced across the beach.

“You can't leave us without saying good-bye, dear,” said Aunt Rose, wrapping her arms around me.

“And don't forget to write once in a while,” added Uncle Herman.

“Promise.”

Then I remembered the rammy and pulled it out of my back pocket.

Aunt Rose insisted, “Keep it as a souvenir. And you never know when you might go mountain climbing!”

“Better yet, Ro, she can bring it back next year!” said Uncle Herman.

“Oh, you're absolutely right, Herman!”

Then I asked, “Will
you
be here next year?”

They stared at each other all goofy and replied, “Of course we will!”

We all hugged one last time. Then as Abby and I turned to leave, Aunt Rose caught my arm.

“Please tell your mother that
I think
she did a wonderful job raising you, Emma.”

Wow. I never ever thought I'd hear someone say those words.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I will.”

“And, Emma?” said Uncle Herman. “Cousin Walter was a good man. He was just dealt a bad hand.”

A bad hand?
But before I could ask what that meant, Aunt Rose pecked me on the cheek and they scurried off.

Abby and I took the shortcut up the embankment and followed the trail back to the campground entrance. When the log cabin with the bright red roof came into view, Abby grabbed my wrist.

“Are you ready to face Aunt Pat?”

“
What?
” I asked. “Is she in there?”

Abby shrugged her shoulders. “She checks us in, and she checks us out. I thought it would be easier for you if we faced her together.”

That's when I realized I now had two very best friends in the world.

“Do you think I should apologize or something?” I asked.

“For what?”

“I don't know,” I said. “It just seems like the right thing to do.”

We held hands as we climbed the steps to the porch. I took a deep breath and went in first with Abby close behind. Aunt Pat was in there all right, her back to the door. She barely glanced at us over her shoulder, then returned to packing boxes as if we were invisible.

And that's when I decided, then and there, that no one would treat me like I was invisible ever again. I took another deep breath.

“Thank you for inviting me!” I blurted too loudly. “I had a very good time.”

Aunt Pat stopped what she was doing, turned around slowly, and then plunked her hands on her thick waist.

“You did, did you?”

“Yep. I mean, yes, I did!”

Aunt Pat's eyes traveled around the room like she was tracking a wasp. I had no idea what she would say next, but I decided sticking to basic manners was the way to go.

“Do you have anything else to add?”

I realized Aunt Pat was expecting me to apologize and take the blame for the turn of events. But I knew now that I hadn't done anything wrong. So instead, I spoke from my good and true heart.

“Well, it was very nice to finally meet my father's side of the family. And when I meet him someday, I'll let him know what a terrific time I had.”

Aunt Pat dropped her hands and grunted. Then she flipped hastily through her pile of powder blue T-shirts and grabbed two.

“Here!” she said, frowning. “You can take your commemorative reunion shirt now, Abby—but don't try to sneak out with a second one when you leave with your folks!”

Abby slipped out from behind me and said, “Thank you!”

“And here's yours,” she said to me, shoving the shirt under my chin.

“This is great! Thanks.”

As we turned to go, Aunt Pat cleared her throat.

“Emma?”

I twirled around. “Yes?”

She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth, then mumbled, “Have a safe trip back.”

I smiled as hard as I could. “I will!”

“And next year,” she grumbled, “bring that father of yours with you. Okay? Don't know why everybody can't just get along!”

Abby and I left the cabin holding in our giggles like confetti about to explode. As soon as we stepped off the porch we ran laughing hysterically all the way down the path to the entrance where I was to meet Wanda. When we reached the huge arching Paul Bunyan State Park and Campground sign, we were still screeching with delight, clutching our aching sides.

All of a sudden, a body leaped out of the woods scaring us half to death.

“RrrraaRR!”

We screamed, “FRED!” and fell down to the driveway, dropping all my stuff in the dirt.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach because it hurt so much from laughing and gasping and shrieking. Abby sat up first and dusted off her clothes.

“Why were you hiding like that?!” she scolded him, playfully.

“Rule number thirteen,” Fred replied, “never skip an opportunity to scare your cousins half to death!”

Then he reached down and offered me his hand, just as he had when we were sitting on the hill Friday afternoon.

I glared at him, but he knew I was joking.

“You were on rule number ten?” I corrected one last time. “I didn't think I'd get to see you again.”

“Are you crazy?” he cried. “And miss a chance to meet the one and only Wild Wanda?”

Right then the old pickup truck clickety-clacked down the bumpy road toward us. I had such mixed feelings about leaving, but I was really glad to see Wanda again, especially since now I knew we were most likely closely related. Plus, I had a ton of questions to ask her.

“Okay,” said Fred, “love the truck.”

“Yikes,” said Abby. “It's so dirty and beat-up.”

Wanda parked in a little turnoff and then kicked open the driver's door, which looked as if it might snap off.

“Oh yah!” said Fred. “Love the attitude.”

Abby looked at me and rolled her eyes.

Finally, Wanda walked toward us, sauntering like an outlaw arriving in a new town. She was wearing the same black short-sleeve Harley T-shirt and jeans. Her gray hair stuck straight out, and she was holding a can of “pop”.

“And definitely love the look.” Fred whispered and sighed, “My hero.”

I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow and stepped forward.

“Hi, Wanda!”

“Ready?” was all she said at first.

I picked up my sleeping bag, and Abby grabbed my backpack. Fred stuck out his hand.

“Hello, Aunt Wanda,” he beamed. “Fred
Frecky
. Thrilled to finally meet you in person.”

Wanda raised one eyebrow suspiciously, then carefully shook his hand.

“You can drop the Aunt bit. Wanda's fine.”

“Wanda, this is Abby,” I said.

Wanda nodded her head. “You kids had a good weekend?”

“Interesting,” commented Fred, “to say the least.”

Wanda took my backpack from Abby and studied me.

“Looks like you survived.”

And then, out of nowhere, I burst into tears like a baby. I had more than survived. I felt like a new person. And I really didn't want to say good-bye to Abby and Fred!

“Are you okay, Emma?” asked Abby. She patted my back, the same way Penelope had on the porch steps, which made me cry even harder.

“I'm going to miss you guys SO MUCH!”

“Ooohh!” replied Abby, who was crying now too. “We don't want you to leave!”

Wanda groaned.

“I'll wait in the truck. Suck it up and say your so longs, kid. You got a plane to catch.”

Fred didn't know what to do, so he started bouncing up and down like he was on pogo stick, which instantly turned my tears into sobbing laughter.

“You are SO weird, Fred,” I managed to say.

He stopped bouncing and ruffled my Boris Horace hair.

“See you in December, Emma
Freak
?”

I wiped my eyes.

“Really? Will you visit?”

“Ma and Pa thought it was a splendid idea—so warn everyone in Homeport!”

I turned to Abby.

“Can you come too?”

“I doubt we have the extra money for that,” she replied.

“Money?” said Fred. “Never let money control your life! We'll figure it out between now and then.”

“Okay,” said Abby. “I'll try!”

Wanda tapped the horn and hung her head out the window.

“You want to stay here until next year's reunion? 'Cause I got cows to milk!”

The ride home wasn't what I expected, but I should have known. We couldn't talk at all because Wanda had the radio blaring and the windows halfway down. Not to mention, the roar of the old engine was deafening all by itself.

Besides, now I didn't feel like talking. I had such a lump in my throat.

By the time we turned off at the Gas 'n' Gulp, the same one we had stopped at on the way up, I was feeling a little better. And I figured now would be my best chance to ask questions. But as soon as the engine was off, Wanda practically jumped out of the truck to fill it up. I got out on my side and slowly moved to the front of the hood.

“Wanda?” I began. “Can I ask you a couple of things?”

She paused and stared at me. Then she looked at her watch.

“We've made good time,” she said. “Let's go in and grab a quick bite.”

I needed to use the restroom, so I told Wanda I'd meet her at the booth and to please order me a grilled cheese with tomatoes, bacon, lots of pepper and mayo.

“That's quite a sandwich, kid,” she replied.

I smiled. “I know.”

Washing my hands, I thought about how to begin this conversation. Wanda wasn't the easiest person in the world to talk to. It was possible, she wouldn't even admit to being my father's sister. And she seemed to only speak in riddles.

As I walked across the restaurant, I was surprised to see her sitting with someone at our table. My heart dropped. She must have run into a friend or another farmer. Now we'd never get a chance to talk.

But as soon as Wanda spotted me, she stood up and pointed in my direction. A thin, bald man slid out of the booth and turned around.

It took me a second to place him, but there was no doubt about it. It was that man from the store. The one who wore dark suits—he was wearing one now—and who had stopped in twice without saying anything. It was pretty bizarre seeing him outside the bead shop in a completely different state.
Was he following me?
Like some sort of detective or spy?

He grinned nervously.

“Um,” I hesitated, “aren't you from Homeport?”

“Emma,” said Wanda. “I thought you'd like to meet your father, Walter.”

Huh?? Now I was totally confused. And more than a little creeped out.

“My
what?
”

I couldn't believe this was happening. I had always expected some incredible moment, meeting my long lost father for the very first time. But definitely not this guy. And definitely not
here
at the Gas 'n' Gulp.

I stared at him. And then I stared at Wanda. And I realized they both had all the classic
Frecky
physical traits. And so did I. And the three of us looked entirely related.

I think I moaned kinda loudly. I actually felt sick.

“Need the washroom again?” asked Wanda.

“No,” I answered, rubbing my forehead. “But I'm not too hungry anymore.”

“Please,” said Walter, “let's all sit and get to know one another a little.”

So I slid in next to Wanda, who handed me a glass of ice water, and I listened to my story . . . and how it all began.