Kate gasped. "We're not leaving you this time. And wear your warm blue coat. It's cold out."
"Sure, Mom." Kevin yawned.
A few minutes later the front door burst open and fourteen hastily dressed people dragged their luggage outside. Their shirttails flapped in the winter air, their shoelaces were untied and their coats unbuttoned as they hurried into the two airport vans waiting in the driveway.
Kate stood on the porch and directed traffic. "Our McCallisters in the first van, the other McCallisters in the second van!"
Uncle Frank came out of the house lugging a heavy suitcase. "I know I shouldn't complain about a free trip," he mumbled, "but you people give the worst wake-up calls!"
Kate grabbed him. "Do you have the plane tickets?"
"Leslie's in charge of the tickets," Uncle Frank said. "I'm in charge of hotel reservations."
Kate let him go. A second later Aunt Leslie rushed out of the house waving the airline tickets.
"Got 'em, Kate!" she gasped. Peter came next, panting for breath.
"Why is it that every time we go on a trip, we leave in a state of confusion?" he asked.
"We'll have all vacation to ponder that," Kate replied. "Do you think everyone's out?"
"I hope so."
"Okay," said Kate. "Lock up."
While her husband locked the front door, Kate ran to the van holding Frank and his family.
"Leslie!" she banged on the van's window.
"What?" Leslie rolled the window down.
"How many do you have?"
"Seven."
Kate ran to her van. She needed to count seven more heads. She started with herself and Peter, then added Buzz, Linnie, Megan, Jeff . . . Kate's jaw fell open. Only thirteen!
"Kevin!" she cried out in a panic.
Kevin stuck his head out from the front bucket seat and waved his boarding pass at her. "Cool your jets, Mom. And this time I'll carry my own ticket. Just in case you guys try and ditch me."
Kate breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"Everyone present and accounted for?" the van's driver asked.
"Yes," Kate said "Go!"
The vans roared out of the driveway. Next stop, O'Hare Airport and their plane to Florida . . . if it hadn't left yet.
December 23
O'Hare Airport
9:55 A.M.
With five minutes left before departure time, both vans screeched to a stop in front of the American Airlines terminal. People and bags began pouring out of the vans' doors.
"Hurry everyone!" Peter shouted as skycaps in black and red uniforms quickly tagged the luggage and threw it onto baggage carts. The families rushed into the terminal, but Kevin lagged behind. The batteries in his Talkboy had run low.
"Dad." He tugged at his father's tan overcoat. "I need batteries."
"I don't have any," his father hastily replied, but Kevin knew that wasn't true. His father always carried extra batteries in his brown travel bag. Kevin reached for the bag.
"Not now," his father said, pulling it away.
"Come on." Kate tugged at the shoulder of Kevin's coat and guided him toward the doors. "Everyone to the plane. Let's go!"
"Wait a minute." Kevin pulled away. "I really need batteries."
Near him, the skycap handed Frank the stubs from the luggage tags. Then the man rubbed his thumb and fingers together.
"Oh, uh . . ." Frank patted his pockets. "Uh, Peter? Can you tip this guy? The smallest bill I have is a twenty. I'll pay you back of course."
Kevin had heard that one before. Peter put the brown travel bag on the baggage cart, took out his wallet, and gave the skycap his tip. Kevin waited until his father put his wallet back, then he quietly took the bag.
"What's our gate?" Peter asked, momentarily forgetting about the bag.
"E-fifteen. It's all the way at the end." The skycap looked at his watch. "You better run."
Peter ran inside and Kevin followed. The other McCallisters were jogging down the concourse ahead of them. Keeping one eye on his father's tan overcoat, Kevin unzipped the brown bag. Inside he found a Polaroid camera, his father's wallet, an address book, an envelope filled with cash, and a package of batteries.
I knew it, Kevin
"Sure, Mom." Kevin yawned.
A few minutes later the front door burst open and fourteen hastily dressed people dragged their luggage outside. Their shirttails flapped in the winter air, their shoelaces were untied and their coats unbuttoned as they hurried into the two airport vans waiting in the driveway.
Kate stood on the porch and directed traffic. "Our McCallisters in the first van, the other McCallisters in the second van!"
Uncle Frank came out of the house lugging a heavy suitcase. "I know I shouldn't complain about a free trip," he mumbled, "but you people give the worst wake-up calls!"
Kate grabbed him. "Do you have the plane tickets?"
"Leslie's in charge of the tickets," Uncle Frank said. "I'm in charge of hotel reservations."
Kate let him go. A second later Aunt Leslie rushed out of the house waving the airline tickets.
"Got 'em, Kate!" she gasped. Peter came next, panting for breath.
"Why is it that every time we go on a trip, we leave in a state of confusion?" he asked.
"We'll have all vacation to ponder that," Kate replied. "Do you think everyone's out?"
"I hope so."
"Okay," said Kate. "Lock up."
While her husband locked the front door, Kate ran to the van holding Frank and his family.
"Leslie!" she banged on the van's window.
"What?" Leslie rolled the window down.
"How many do you have?"
"Seven."
Kate ran to her van. She needed to count seven more heads. She started with herself and Peter, then added Buzz, Linnie, Megan, Jeff . . . Kate's jaw fell open. Only thirteen!
"Kevin!" she cried out in a panic.
Kevin stuck his head out from the front bucket seat and waved his boarding pass at her. "Cool your jets, Mom. And this time I'll carry my own ticket. Just in case you guys try and ditch me."
Kate breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"Everyone present and accounted for?" the van's driver asked.
"Yes," Kate said "Go!"
The vans roared out of the driveway. Next stop, O'Hare Airport and their plane to Florida . . . if it hadn't left yet.
December 23
O'Hare Airport
9:55 A.M.
With five minutes left before departure time, both vans screeched to a stop in front of the American Airlines terminal. People and bags began pouring out of the vans' doors.
"Hurry everyone!" Peter shouted as skycaps in black and red uniforms quickly tagged the luggage and threw it onto baggage carts. The families rushed into the terminal, but Kevin lagged behind. The batteries in his Talkboy had run low.
"Dad." He tugged at his father's tan overcoat. "I need batteries."
"I don't have any," his father hastily replied, but Kevin knew that wasn't true. His father always carried extra batteries in his brown travel bag. Kevin reached for the bag.
"Not now," his father said, pulling it away.
"Come on." Kate tugged at the shoulder of Kevin's coat and guided him toward the doors. "Everyone to the plane. Let's go!"
"Wait a minute." Kevin pulled away. "I really need batteries."
Near him, the skycap handed Frank the stubs from the luggage tags. Then the man rubbed his thumb and fingers together.
"Oh, uh . . ." Frank patted his pockets. "Uh, Peter? Can you tip this guy? The smallest bill I have is a twenty. I'll pay you back of course."
Kevin had heard that one before. Peter put the brown travel bag on the baggage cart, took out his wallet, and gave the skycap his tip. Kevin waited until his father put his wallet back, then he quietly took the bag.
"What's our gate?" Peter asked, momentarily forgetting about the bag.
"E-fifteen. It's all the way at the end." The skycap looked at his watch. "You better run."
Peter ran inside and Kevin followed. The other McCallisters were jogging down the concourse ahead of them. Keeping one eye on his father's tan overcoat, Kevin unzipped the brown bag. Inside he found a Polaroid camera, his father's wallet, an address book, an envelope filled with cash, and a package of batteries.
I knew it, Kevin
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