The Moon by Night by Madeleine L'Engle Page B

said.
    Right after Mother’s remark about the bridge table we almost burst when the father pulled out a huge flat cardboard box, struggled with it, and extricated a brand new folding bridge table! Then came new folding chairs. A new and shiny cooler. Another big plastic cloth over their cooking equipment. Their own garbage can.
    â€œWhy are we being so snide about them?” Mother asked Daddy.
    â€œBecause they don’t belong in a state park,” Daddy said. “Come on, Robin, time you got ready for bed.”
    Rob collected his towel and toothbrush and started up the path to the lavs. When you’re camping if you have lots of choice of campsites you try to set up not too close to the lavs, but not
too far away in case it rains or you want to go in the middle of the night.
    The rich family was getting dinner ready. Or, rather, the mother was. The father sat in a folding chair with a newspaper. Must’ve been the Wall Street Journal . The boy stood around with his hands in his pockets, whistling, a kind of pretty melody, and after a while he sauntered across the path and stood looking at John and me. When he spoke his voice was quite normal and friendly.
    â€œHi, I’m Zach. Zachary Grey. Who are you and where are you from?”
    â€œJohn and Vicky Austin,” John said. “Connecticut.” He spoke rather shortly, and I could tell he didn’t like the boy much.
    â€œL.A.,” the boy said, “but I just got kicked out of Hotchkiss so we decided to camp out on the way home.” He spoke very gayly, as though being kicked out of school was what everybody did, but I had a feeling he didn’t like it at all. He looked at Rob coming down from the lavs, and at Suzy emerging from the tent with her towel. “You’re kind of a big family, aren’t you?”
    â€œWe like it,” John said. “You an only?”
    â€œWhat else?” Zachary said. He turned towards me. “How about a spin down into town for a soda or something?”
    â€œNow?” I asked. I guess I must have sounded foolish.
    â€œWhy not? I have my license and I do most of the driving.”
    â€œWell—I’d have to ask my parents.”
    â€œStill back in the Victorian age, are you?” Zachary said. “Okay. Go ahead and ask them.” He started to whistle.
    John hitched his thumbs into the belt of his jeans. “I can tell you right now they’ll say no.”

    Zachary stopped whistling. “Give them a chance to say no for themselves, Daddy-O.”
    Mother and Daddy came out of the tent just then, so I asked them.
    â€œNo,” Daddy said. “I think not, Vicky.”
    Zachary sounded very deferential. “But why, sir? I have my license and I’m a very good driver. Oh, I’m Zachary Grey, by the way.”
    â€œSorry to say no, Zachary, but we’re getting an early start in the morning, and we’re all about ready to go to bed.”
    â€œWell, could she take a walk around the campgrounds with me, then?”
    Daddy looked at Zachary sharply before replying, “As long as it’s a short walk within the campgrounds, yes.”
    Zachary shrugged. “I’ll have to settle for that, then. The old lady will want me to eat, anyhow. Come on, Vicky-O.” He put his hand on my elbow and we started off. “The old man rules you with a rod of iron, doesn’t he?”
    â€œNo, not really. He’s pretty reasonable, as fathers go.” Somehow I wasn’t happy about the way Zachary was referring to Daddy.
    â€œHow old are you?”
    â€œ … Sixteen.”
    â€œGad! A mere infant! I’d have thought you were at least seventeen.”
    I was glad I hadn’t told him the exact truth. He’d probably have dropped me like a hot coal if I’d admitted I was fourteen.
    â€œHow come you’re on a camping trip?”

    â€œWe’re moving to New York, so my father’s taking the time off.