CHAPTER 1
The Pink Hotel
V iolet Alden saw the little hotel first. “Oh, it’s so pretty! Like a sunset!” She was sitting in the front seat with Grandfather.
“You’re right, Violet. The Flamingo Hotel certainly lives up to its name! I’ve never seen such a bright pink!” Grandfather steered the rental car into the driveway.
Six-year-old Benny Alden leaned out a window. “I’m going to climb that tree and get a coconut!” he exclaimed. “It’s a pretty short tree.”
“That’s because it’s a palmetto, not a palm tree,” said Henry, reading from a guidebook.
After the Alden family had landed at the Miami airport, Benny had rushed to the windows to watch planes take off, but Henry had headed for a little bookstand. At fourteen, he was becoming interested in science.
“I bet there are a zillion bugs around here. I’m glad I brought insect spray,” remarked twelve-year-old Jessie.
“ This time I didn’t forget my camera!” Violet said. “Florida is a perfect place to take lots of pictures.” Violet was ten. When she wasn’t drawing, she was snapping photos with her camera.
Grandfather pulled into a parking space near the pink-painted railing of the small porch. “Well, here we are,” he said.
“When do we eat?” Benny asked.
Everyone laughed. “We just got here!”
“What happened to the burger and fries you had at the airport?” asked Grandfather.
“That was a long time ago,” Benny said.
“Yeah!” said Henry. “Like about thirty minutes ago.” With Jessie’s help, he began dragging luggage from the trunk.
“It seems hard to believe we’re still in the United States,” Jessie commented. “I mean, we left Connecticut this morning and now we’re in Miami and it doesn’t look anything like home!”
“I know what you mean,” Violet agreed. “Our lawn in Greenfield was smooth and green and Mrs. McGregor’s roses were just blooming. But here it’s like a jungle .”
“Wait’ll we see the Everglades,” Henry added.
“I want to see lots of alligators,” put in Benny. “I wished on a star last night.”
“I hope we see Andrew Beldon,” said Grandfather. “That’s the purpose of this trip, after all.”
Just yesterday James Alden had received a phone call from a business friend. Thomas Beldon was concerned about his youngest son, Andrew.
Andrew Beldon was a wildlife ranger in the Everglades National Park in south Florida. Andrew always called his father once a week. But sometimes he got too involved in something and forgot to call. It had been over two weeks since Mr. Beldon had heard from Andrew, and he was too ill to take a trip to Florida. Grandfather had decided that this was a perfect time to visit the Everglades. He could take a vacation with his grandchildren and check on Andrew. He had known Andrew Beldon since Andrew was a boy Benny’s age. It wasn’t like Andrew to cause his ill father needless worry.
So the Aldens packed and flew to Florida.
“It seems like we’re always on the go,” Jessie remarked as they carried their luggage up the cement porch steps.
“Maybe it’s because we once lived in a boxcar,” Henry said thoughtfully. “Even though the boxcar didn’t go anywhere, we’ve gone lots of places since Grandfather found us.”
After the children’s parents died, they had no home. Afraid of the grandfather they had never met, the children lived in an old boxcar in the woods. When James Alden found his grandchildren, he was overjoyed to have a brand-new family.
“But the boxcar did go someplace,” Benny pointed out.
“That’s right,” said Violet. “Grandfather had our old boxcar brought to his backyard so we can play in it.”
The screen door opened and a small dark-haired woman held it open for them, smiling. “You must be the Aldens. I’m Mrs. Ethel Johnson. Welcome to the Sunshine State!”
They all filed into the cool hallway and set the luggage down.
Grandfather went over to the small registration desk to sign
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