Chapter 1: Sardines and Strawberries

Wynn was home, but breathless, and it was way past 4 pm on Friday when the screen door clanged shut behind her. 

That should have produced a cartoon puff of wind and a Whang! speech bubble. Add that to the storyboard…

Faint from the basement came her mum’s I Am Annoyed voice.

 “Young lady, you are a full half-hour late! How could it possibly take that long to get home?” Wynn winced. 

Hey, two W's. Wow, her wails make me wince. Three W's...

“The school is only ten blocks away! AREEydununderSTANwhuTAYKsoo...” 

The acoustics are so not great from the basement office. Then again, I’ve pretty much memorized what she’s saying right now, so it doesn’t matter, does it?...

But there it was. She was late again, the all-important Day of the Switcheroo forgotten. And why indeed? 

Well, first there had been the usual detours through the nature preserve to visit the Twitchet family, then looking down the skylight into the dungeon to see how the prisoners were doing, and then my recon mission to map the hidden secret rooms in the Gothic asylum….

To get home from there, of course, I had to jump on the flagstones in the correct sequence to avoid waking up the monster earthworms, and then double back by looping around the arena to confuse them, just in case one or two were on my tail already.

In everyday, much more boring words: from school, she had headed to the woods...gone to peer into the windows of the underground portion of the campus library...sketched the ancient, ivy-covered conservatory; and finally hopped and jumped across its plaza over to the athletics track before coming home.

Making all the regular stops was Very Important. The Twitchets, the prisoners, the earthworms, and the secret rooms were all crucial parts of Chapters 4 through 6 of The Novel. It was only natural she had forgotten about coming home early.

Besides, it wasn’t like she had much to look forward to once she was there.

“Sorry, I forgot about people coming over,” Wynn yelled as she pelted up the stairs and ran to her room to slam the door. She was safe, just for a moment. At least Brian The Annoyer was away for the weekend, thank goodness, but in his place would be Lin, and the dreaded, dreadful twins. The Ronaldos.

“Wynn, I need you to snap to it!” Mum was calling from downstairs.

Mum and all her sayings about snapping. Snap to it - snap out of it – and make it snappy - you’re going to make me finally snap – snap snappy snap snap snappity snappity snap.  

“Your room had better be in good shape, and it has to last all weekend! Make sure to make some room for Lina's things – you know she’s going to have her soccer gear – you should go to the game and support her --  that would be nice!” She was yelling, but now it was with her I Am Cheerful And Am Downstairs While You Are Upstairs voice.

Wynn crinkled her nose and sighed.

Clueless Mum. FIRST she suddenly decides, NO consultation, that that she needs to switch her office and Brian’s bedroom, so I get to have him in MY space while she fixes it up. Goodbye privacy! For crying out loud, they used to involve me more in deciding things.... 

She put that thought away in a hurry. Not good to think about that.

...anyway, SECOND, WHY did she have to go and arrange for LINA to stay with ME? As if Lina and I can be friends, or even stand each other? This. This is my life. 

As a matter of fact, it WOULD be fantastic, not to mention convenient, if Lina and Wynn could actually get along. After all, their mums had been working together so often on big fancy weddings, and were now both heading to the same convention in Chicago for the weekend. The mums got along, and business was pretty good.

But what worked for them was not working for Wynn and Lina.

The two of us together are like – what are things that just don’t fit? Pickles and chocolate. Sardines and strawberries. We have NOTHING in common WHAT-SO-EVER. Especially soccer. 

Soccer had been the end of any hope of Lina and Wynn seeing eye to eye. For reasons that remain unknown, Wynn's Mum had decided to register her for after-school soccer – that’s right, Wynn, the only person in the whole extended family who could get lost in thought in the middle of a sentence, never mind in the middle of a game. She finally earned a permanent spot on the bench when she was caught cart-wheeling instead of protecting the goal, in a game that her team went on to lose 2 to 1.

Wynn had protested at the time that it was just a game, and a game at that where 22 people fight over one little ball on a very, very large field – juvenile, really – but like most of the entire world, actually, Lina took soccer very, very, very seriously. And thus, on The Day Of The Cartwheel, she developed a long-lasting allergy to Winnifred Gwyneth Harshbarger, or Wynn for short.

And therefore my clueless Mum. As IF I would go along to play cheerleader for Lin’s team. That is just asking for trouble, which I will already have enough of with Lin in my space the ONE weekend Brian is actually ELSEWHERE, oh HAPPY DAY. And I won’t be able to tweak Chapter 4, not with her and the other Ronaldos there – imagine the mockery. Actually, I don’t want to imagine it, let alone live through it.

The doorbell rang. They were already there. No time to arrange anything in advance – Lina would just tromp on in and do as she pleased.

Wynn heard her Mum answering the door, and the clump-clump of Twin George and Twin Rick’s Ronaldo-sized feet going through the hall to the back of the house, probably heading straight for the fridge. There was a knock on her door.

“Thank you for knocking,” Wynn said reluctantly as she cracked it open a smidge. Lina was standing awkwardly in the hall.

“Uh, no problem. Your mom told me to come up here.”

“Yes, I have bunk beds, so you will be sleeping here. I am sooo stoked that I now get to share my room with my dearest, sweetest brother Brian,” Wynn said with acid sarcasm, “but he's away at band camp this weekend. By the way, the top bunk is MINE.”

“I didn't think you liked him so much, your brother.” Lina looked puzzled.

Wynn sighed. Lina missing the point, as usual. Why does she have so little rhetorical savvy? Soooo tedious.

Lina ignored the sigh and dragged her bulky athletic bag into the middle of Wynn’s lilac and white and teal and flower and leaf-patterned room – the carpet of which was now liberally decorated with dirt from Lina's sneakers.

“My mama would love your room. It’s, ah, flowery but not too much. She really likes that stuff – she keeps extras from the weddings and parties and all that kind of thing.” Lina sounded like 'all that kind of thing' wasn't really worth her time.

As the two of them stood there uncomfortably, looking around for a place Lina's bag might not get tripped over, Wynn’s mum was heading upstairs, and down the hall, and then she peeked in the door.

“Hi, girls – oh, EstreLINha Ronaldo, look at what your shoes have done to the carpet! Couldn’t you take them off at the door?”

“Sorry,” Lina mumbled, and stubbed at the back of each shoe with the toes of the other foot until she could chuck each shoe towards the door, no-hands-style. Wynn looked from Lina's toes up to her face with a skeptical glance -- which was now slowly going pink from her cheeks down to her neck as she stared at the tips of her socks.

Estra-what? Is THAT her full, actual name? Boy oh boy, I'm going to remember that for the next time I need some good ammunition against her. So that’s what exultation feels like. Good. It feels good.

 “That's a good girl, Lin, thanks. Now, girls: the boys are downstairs playing that computer ZombieDoom thingy, and they said they wanted to play some soccer in the backyard, and there are meals for tonight, Saturday and Sunday in the fridge that you can heat up, and there is cereal, and sandwich makings for lunch, and curfew for you both is 7:30 at night NO EXCEPTIONS, and George will be checking up on you…Lin, have you kissed your mamayi goodbye?”

Obediently, Lin said, “yes, we said goodbye. Travel safe. And can you tell her, call me when you arrive?”

With exaggerated patience, Wynn said, “it’s oKAY, Mum, I know the routine. We’ll be fine. Have a great time in Chicago.”

With that, Wynn's mum kissed the top of her head, said, “of course, and be good to each other, now,” and was off down the stairs with her bags.

The girls heard the whump of the front door closing, and looked at each other uncertainly.

So where should I put my stuff?” Lin asked, slowly.

Honestly, stuff, stuff, stuff – is ‘stuff’ her favorite word? There are so many wonderful words in the world you can say instead of ‘stuff’: gear, things, items, supplies, luggage, doodads…

“Hey! What are you doing?” 

While Wynn had been listing replacements for the word 'stuff' in her head, Lina had started pulling open drawers and doors as if she felt right at home. Startled, Wynn stuttered,

"h-h-ang on...Give me a second to figure out, like, where we could –"

But Lina only stopped suddenly when she opened the double doors of Wynn’s white vanity.

“Wow, what is this?”

Wynn darted towards Lin and forcibly took her hand off the door, and snapped,

“DON’T - TOUCH – ANYTHING in there! That is my special collection!” 

In the cupboard, you see, neatly arrayed, were Wynn’s snow and water globes – you know, those glass balls with pedestals and the snowflakes that whirl around and around when you shake the ball up. Wynn had quite the collection, and dead center was her,absolute favorite: a globe that fit perfectly in her cupped hands and displayed a row of old-fashioned houses. Instead of holding swirling snowflakes, though, this particular globe’s confetti was grey and blue and silver, so that shaking the globe enveloped the town in a glittering, hypnotic rainstorm. 

Lina was amused. “What, I’m not doing anything bad to your toys, I’m just looking! These are cute – look, there are pandas, and some little duckies!”

“Did your parents buy these for you when you was a baby?”

Wynn did not like the tone in her voice.

“I’ve been collecting them for five years,” she retorted. “My dad -- -- --

the first one was a Christmas present. I use them for ideas for stories and songs – as artistic inspiration, for your information. They are not baby toys.”

Lina either didn’t hear the anger in Wynn’s voice, or else didn't care. She picked up the old-town snowglobe – or rainglobe, really – and tossed it up and down with one hand while looking at the rest.

“Put that down! It’s valuable!” Wynn ordered.

But Lina kept going, pointing with her free hand, and laughing.

“Hey, this one is perfect for you, dreaming all the time. With this castle, do you think you are a princess with a long dress?”

Wynn made a grab for the ball, but Lina stretched it up above her head, and Wynn started seeing red – with Lina's longer arms and extra height, she had no way of getting her property back.

“Stop clowning around! You’re going to break it!” 

Hey, I have a really good idea. You can travel to places like this, like this castle, and then you can't mess up my football games.” Lina shielded the globe like a basketball she had to guard from the opposing team.

“Honestly!” Wynn exploded, stamping her foot. “You know what? I wish YOU would travel somewhere, anywhere, hundreds of miles from here.”

“Well, I wish for that too,” Lina snapped, her mouth thin and pursed in a way Wynn hadn't seen before. “I don’t want to be here anyway. I am so sick of snow, and cold, and strange people.” She had forgotten the keep-away game and was now just holding the rain-globe at waist-level in her hand.

"Well then, I guess we can agree on ONE thing -- neither of us wanted you to be here." Wynn glared at Lina.

 “Yes. I say we agree on that.” Lina stared right back at her unhappily. "But we have to spend this time together. We have no choice about it. Right?"

Wynn sighed. "Right." 

This is really not going very well. Is there any way to rescue this conversation, this situation, this weekend?

Wynn decided to try saying something similar out loud.

"How are we going to survive until the end of the weekend?"

Lin nodded her head. "I know. It's really not fair. They didn't ask US about it."

"Seriously, we are old enough that we should have more independence than that," Wynn agreed.

Lina did a double-take, and replied, "Hey, look, we agree again. This is a little bit scary now," with a smirk.

Wynn couldn't help grinning a little herself.

"Well, just don't tell me we have the same taste in music or something. That would be too much," she replied, still a little snarky.

"I am pretty sure we don't like the same music, don't worry. Actually, one of my favorites is about faraway. Funny because we are talking about that right now,” Lin mused.

"What is the song? I spend a lot of time collecting music. I probably know it."

Wynn's large iTunes library was a point of personal pride.

"I really don't think you know this one," Lin objected smoothly. "It goes like,

Mingya pah-treeya dagwah,

Ohsh mehoosh oh-yos a-fah-go

a kay meal noytesh deh sonaar…

 Wynn stood there, mouth open.

Lin is SINGING…and it doesn’t seem to be in English – although it sounds a tiny bit familiar, but hard to make out? – as if the words are sort of slurred, or something? –  it actually sounds nice, full and dramatic somehow...

Here was her chance. As Lina was trying to remember the lyrics, she relaxed a bit, and Wynn went to grab the rain-globe back. For a moment, both of their hands overlapped as they each grasped at it.

As she did so, though, she couldn’t help but wish that the moment wouldn’t quite end there, because it was a nice change from the usual.

In fact, wouldn’t it be nice if there were more moments like that in my life, when people around me would actually do different, interesting things like singing foreign songs? I would LOVE that. 

But the moment did end, of course, although Lin would have continued with the song if she had been able to.

And after finishing the verse, she would have let Wynn have the globe back, and told her to be happy with her dreams about faraway places, because dreams are better than the real thing.

Then she would have tried not to feel miserable and desperate, and gone downstairs to find George and Rick, and started that soccer match they had been talking about, and Wynn would have been left upstairs to try to puzzle out what Lina had meant by all that.

But given the circumstances, there was no way Lina could sing the rest of the song.

As it turned out, today really WAS the Day of the Switcheroo, one far beyond Lina taking Brian’s place for a few days.

And so, on that Day, given what happened next, which Wynn later called Going Sideways – not just with caps but in bold, too, always –

the song didn't stand a chance.