the simple life of New England,” said her mother, Sarah. “All she talks about are the mountains of Peru or the deserts of Mongolia.”
“You don’t think Mount Desert, Maine will suffice?” responded her father.
“Well, it’s really all your fault, you and your father and Professor Witherspoon,” her mother went on. “That adventure in Arabia makes a map in school look like an artifact from the bronze age.”
It was true. The blackboard and the maps that hung from several walls, the desks and ink wells with a small slot to put away books and papers were hardly the stuff of uncovering an ancient city like Urgup. Her teacher, Miss Osgood, was always enthusiastic. She gave her heart and soul to her classroom. Emily memorized poems and psalms from the Bible. She recited the names of the capital of the forty-eight states, even Helena, Montana and Albany, New York. But she dreamed of more exotic places where people lived very different lives. On her report card, to her marks Miss Osgood added: “at times it appears as if Emily is somewhere else, far, far away.”
As April passed and the summer months were approaching, Emily’s mother looked over brochures for summer camps. Lakes and mountains, fresh air, swimming, canoeing, hiking, sailing, arts and crafts were spelled out in glowing terms. “William, if we are serious about Emily going to camp for eight weeks this summer, we need to get on the ball right now.” Her father, who was usually overly organized, seemed to be dawdling about Emily’s summer plans. “We’ve got plenty of time, Sarah,” he answered.
“Plenty of time. It will be May next week and just ten weeks until these camps open up,”her mother reminded him.
Emily looked at the brochures. All the photos showed happy girls in their smocks or woolen swimsuits, enjoying a camp’s facilities. “Under the Pines,” “Above the Waterfall,” “Ghost Stories at the Campfire.” read captions under the pictures. Tame stuff compared to climbing down a well in Egypt, or driving through the sands of a desert in a new Rolls Royce.
“William,” said her mother a week later, “no more procrastinating. Let’s both of us and Emily choose a camp and be done with it.” Her father looked sheepish. “I may have an alternative,” he said. “Alternative?” her mother replied. “Well, not exactly a camp alternative. More of an adventure alternative. A trip to China.”
If Emily’s eyes opened any wider they would have popped out right there on the spot.
“China,” her mother said in desperation, why don’t you and I discuss this privately, away from our daughter,” she added as she stacked the camp brochures in a pile on a table nearby. “Let’s take a stroll outside.” Emily watched her mother and father walk down the street and followed them at a safe distance. She couldn't hear what they were saying but watched their body movements for answers. At first her mother waved her arms, stopped once and seemed just to glare at her father. Then they ambled on, talking more calmly. When her father put his arm around her mother and her mother leaned more closely to him, Emily smiled. Maybe China will be my summer’s vacation, she mused.
She sped back home undetected and pretended to be reading a book as he parents opened the screen door and entered the house. “I am willing to wait for the professor’s letter,” she heard her mother say, “but only for one week.”
One week. Either a camp in New Hampshire or a trip to China. It was too much to bear. Emily went to the library, where he mother was the librarian, to look in the section of books on China. There were so many. History, culture, politics, trade, religion, education, medicine. Where would she start. She looked at a map. China was vast, too big to study all of it. Where did the professor plan to travel in China. She left without any books, more confused than ever. She would have to await the professor’s letter.
She asked Miss
“You don’t think Mount Desert, Maine will suffice?” responded her father.
“Well, it’s really all your fault, you and your father and Professor Witherspoon,” her mother went on. “That adventure in Arabia makes a map in school look like an artifact from the bronze age.”
It was true. The blackboard and the maps that hung from several walls, the desks and ink wells with a small slot to put away books and papers were hardly the stuff of uncovering an ancient city like Urgup. Her teacher, Miss Osgood, was always enthusiastic. She gave her heart and soul to her classroom. Emily memorized poems and psalms from the Bible. She recited the names of the capital of the forty-eight states, even Helena, Montana and Albany, New York. But she dreamed of more exotic places where people lived very different lives. On her report card, to her marks Miss Osgood added: “at times it appears as if Emily is somewhere else, far, far away.”
As April passed and the summer months were approaching, Emily’s mother looked over brochures for summer camps. Lakes and mountains, fresh air, swimming, canoeing, hiking, sailing, arts and crafts were spelled out in glowing terms. “William, if we are serious about Emily going to camp for eight weeks this summer, we need to get on the ball right now.” Her father, who was usually overly organized, seemed to be dawdling about Emily’s summer plans. “We’ve got plenty of time, Sarah,” he answered.
“Plenty of time. It will be May next week and just ten weeks until these camps open up,”her mother reminded him.
Emily looked at the brochures. All the photos showed happy girls in their smocks or woolen swimsuits, enjoying a camp’s facilities. “Under the Pines,” “Above the Waterfall,” “Ghost Stories at the Campfire.” read captions under the pictures. Tame stuff compared to climbing down a well in Egypt, or driving through the sands of a desert in a new Rolls Royce.
“William,” said her mother a week later, “no more procrastinating. Let’s both of us and Emily choose a camp and be done with it.” Her father looked sheepish. “I may have an alternative,” he said. “Alternative?” her mother replied. “Well, not exactly a camp alternative. More of an adventure alternative. A trip to China.”
If Emily’s eyes opened any wider they would have popped out right there on the spot.
“China,” her mother said in desperation, why don’t you and I discuss this privately, away from our daughter,” she added as she stacked the camp brochures in a pile on a table nearby. “Let’s take a stroll outside.” Emily watched her mother and father walk down the street and followed them at a safe distance. She couldn't hear what they were saying but watched their body movements for answers. At first her mother waved her arms, stopped once and seemed just to glare at her father. Then they ambled on, talking more calmly. When her father put his arm around her mother and her mother leaned more closely to him, Emily smiled. Maybe China will be my summer’s vacation, she mused.
She sped back home undetected and pretended to be reading a book as he parents opened the screen door and entered the house. “I am willing to wait for the professor’s letter,” she heard her mother say, “but only for one week.”
One week. Either a camp in New Hampshire or a trip to China. It was too much to bear. Emily went to the library, where he mother was the librarian, to look in the section of books on China. There were so many. History, culture, politics, trade, religion, education, medicine. Where would she start. She looked at a map. China was vast, too big to study all of it. Where did the professor plan to travel in China. She left without any books, more confused than ever. She would have to await the professor’s letter.
She asked Miss
Similar Books
