You probably thought I forgot about you. Well, I did! Just kidding. It's our last few hours in Amsterdam. We'll be leaving Verbruggenhuis as soon as Mom and Mrs. Carson free Claudia's head from the banister. (One thing I learned on this trip: never accept a bet with Alan Gray).
Oh, Mom's calling. Claudia's free and it's time to leave. (Finally!)
See you in Stoneybrook,
Shannon
Verbruggenhuis was a madhouse Saturday morning. I always thought it was nuts at the Thomas-Brewer and Pike houses. I was wrong. Imagine nine teenage girls, three pre-teens, two kids, two chaperones, and a contraband goon running up and down the stairs, screaming at each other, refereeing arguments, and all while attempting to finish packing. It was a nightmare.
Certain people weren't helping calm the chaos either. Kristy made an attempt in her usual bossy, whistle-blowing way until Anna snapped and tried to strangle her with the whistle lanyard. Greer and I took our time pulling them apart. Abby was driving everyone crazy walking around saying, "Das ist gutes Wasser," some German phrase one of the Gegenhubers unfortunately taught her. Jessi was in some kind of a funk (and not to mention smelling funky). And Dawn had reached new levels of bizarreness by insisting on wearing a long gray trenchcoat and bowler hat to the airport.
"Ten minutes, girls! Ten minutes!" Mom called from the foyer.
Kristy, Dawn, Jessi, Anna, and I were already downstairs and ready to go. We had our suitcases piled on the front stoop, awaiting the arrival of our caravan of taxis. From where we stood, we could see Claudia, Stacey, Tiffany, and Greer running frantically across the second floor landing.
"I'm all ready!" Mallory yelled from the top of the stairs.
Mom screamed. And fainted.
Well, not exactly. She screamed, stumbled, and fell to the ground. She might as well fainted though. I would have had I been Mallory's chaperone.
Mallory had dreadlocks.
"Why are you ripping off my style, mon? That's so stale," cried Jessi.
Mallory flipped the long, thick dreads over her shoulder. The dreads only went halfway up her hair. They didn't look exactly like dreads either. More like a combination of dreads and frizzy ringlets. Maybe curly-headed people aren't meant for dreaded hair.
"Jessi, I'm not trying to rip you off. I know how stale that would be!" protested Mallory. "I'm trying to stand with you. I heard you argue with Heather last night. I'm so glad you decided not to go with her to Ethiopia. I want to be best friends again. You're going to catch a lot of grief about your hair in Stoneybrook. I thought we should present a united front."
Jessi wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, Mal!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Mallory.
I raised my eyebrows at Anna, who mouthed, "Ethiopia?" at me. I shrugged. I never understand a thing Mallory and Jessi say.
"The taxis are here!" Dawn announced, slipping on her sunglasses.
It took another fifteen minutes to get everyone and their suitcases loaded in the taxis. Mom, Tiffany, Maria, and I rode together in one taxi. (Mom insisted). Mrs. Carson, Kristy, Dawn, Abby, and Amanda rode in the second taxi. Claudia, Stacey, Jessi, Greer, and Anna were in the third taxi. Mary Anne and Mallory rode to the airport with the Gegenhubers in Gudrun's car.
Just as our taxi was about to pull into traffic, Alan slipped into the front seat. He turned and tipped his fedora at us. "Ladies," he said.
Mom leaned over and whispered to me. "Why isn't that boy riding with his family?"
I shrugged, praying Alan wouldn't blow his cover.
As we drove away from Verbruggenhuis, Mom cleared her throat. "Girls, I've come to a decision about the house," she started.
"We're keeping it, right?" shouted Maria. "Pleeeease?"
"We're not keeping, right?" I said, an edge to my voice. I never wanted to see Amsterdam again.
"Shh, girls. I've done a lot of thinking about the house. Of course, I love Verbruggenhuis - I spent much of my childhood there - and will always love it. However, I don't think it's practical to keep a house in a country so far away. It's time to let go. It's some other family's turn to enjoy the house and make memories there,"
I felt a pang of sadness. Not over the house or Amsterdam. The sadness was for Mom and all she'd lose with Verbruggenhuis - her memories, her history, a part of her childhood self. "I think you've made the right decision, Mom," I said, quietly.
"Me too," echoed Tiffany. "I don't think I ever want to come back here again,"
"I thought you had fun?" asked Mom, startled.
Tiffany shrugged. "I did. I'd rather see other places, I guess,"
"Well, I think this stinks!" Maria exclaimed.
"We don't get all the things we want, sweetie," replied Mom.
"Tell me about it," Alan grumbled.
I kicked the back of his seat.
We were extremely early for our flight. Mom and Mrs. Carson thought we'd enjoy looking around the Schiphol airport for awhile. We broke into our own little groups and set off into the shops. Tiffany had forgotten her promise to Linny and Hannie Papadakis (wooden clogs in exchange for their watering her garden), so we had to search for those. I bought David Michael a box of Dutch chocolates for looking after Astrid. (I'd already bought him a t-shirt).
"Oh my freaking Lord!" Tiffany shrieked, as she, Anna, Greer, and I left a store. "Claudia's totally getting busted!"
"The Dam police!" Abby shouted from a nearby kiosk.
We stared in shock and horror as Claudia stood with her hands above her head on the other side of the airport. Two policemen were searching through her canvas tote bag (painted to look like a famous van Gogh painting). A German Shepherd sat beside the policemen, staring at Claudia as if daring her to make a sudden movement.
"What is going on!" Mom yelled, running out of a store. She began arguing with the policemen, who finally led both her and Claudia away.
"Mom's getting arrested!" exclaimed Tiffany. "This is so awesome!"
"I don't think it's dibble at all," replied Mallory, crossly.
"Are we allowed to leave without your Mom and Claudia?" asked Dawn. "I'd really like to get out of the country."
"No one's getting arrested," I assured everyone. "This is some kind of misunderstanding. Claudia probably set off a metal detector with that tinfoil skirt she has on. My mom will straighten it all out."
We waited an hour. Mrs. Carson tried to find out what was going on, but no one would answer her questions. Mary Anne and Georg left to buy a candy bar and returned twenty minutes later, appearing quite disheveled. Mallory and Jessi started a gum chain. Gerhild didn't understand its purpose (neither did I) and she and Mallory got into an argument over it. It was definitely time to get out of Amsterdam.
Finally, Mom and Claudia reappeared. I'd never seen Mom look so mad. Her face was beet red. Smoke was practically billowing out her ears. Claudia looked very confused. (Not at all unusual for Claudia). Her tinfoil skirt was missing (so was her canvas bag) and instead she wore a pair of gray sweatpants. They didn't look too good with her spandex leotard and feather boa.
"To the plane, girls. Now," Mom commanded.
"I don't understand," mumbled Claudia. "I just don't understand,"
We had to say our final goodbyes to the Gegenhubers then. They were an odd bunch, but nice. Georg gave Mary Anne a farewell gift - tiny silver handcuffs on a silver chain. He was stranger than I thought. Mary Anne burst into tears. Gerhild gave Mallory a gift, too, but made Mallory promise not to open it until halfway across the Atlantic. After final hugs and well wishes, we left for our terminal. In her fuming anger, Mom didn't notice Alan following us. (Kristy forced him to buy a plane ticket, for the sake of the BSC's reputation).
Our seats were scattered around the plane again. Greer, Anna, Abby, and I were seated near the front in the middle row. Jessi, Mallory, and Kristy were two rows behind us. Across the aisle, Stacey, Tiffany, and Dawn shared a row. In the row behind them sat Maria and Amanda. Claudia and Mary Anne were somewhere at the back of the plane. Mom and Mrs. Carson were in first class again.
"Where's Alan?" asked Greer, as the plane began taxiing down the runway.
"In the back bothering Claudia and Mary Anne, I guess," I replied.
Across the aisle, Stacey and Tiffany looked depressed. They'd seemed so much more cheerful in the airport. I'd hoped whatever was bothering them had passed. I guess without distractions they had time to sit and stew over whatever secrets they were keeping. I wished Tiffany would have divulged hers to me. However, we lost that sisterly closeness sometime ago, that closeness that allows a person to reveal themselves without fear of judgment or betrayal. If I had a secret, I probably wouldn't tell it to Tiffany either.
Next to the window, Dawn appeared calm and relieved. Whatever her secret, I'd rather not know it.
"Hello, ladies!" a voice sang out.
We all looked up. Alan was standing in the doorway between first class and coach, the curtain pushed aside. He held a giant chocolate and caramel sundae in his right hand.
"Guess who got bumped to first class?" he smirked.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Kristy yelled, jumping up in her seat and knocking over an old man's ginger ale. "That is so unfair!"
Alan laughed as a flight attendant hurried over to Kristy and tried to force Kristy back into her seat.
"This isn't fair! He shouldn't get to fly first class! He shipped himself to Amsterdam in a dog carrier!" Kristy ranted.
It was so embarrassing.
"Can you believe that girl?" Anna asked, loudly.
"The nerve of some people," replied Greer. "I'm glad I don't know her."
"I agree!" cried Anna.
"Das ist gutes Wasser," said Abby.
Reclining slightly in my seat, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again we were touching down in the good old U.S.A.