the wheel and … it didn’t move.
Vladimir walked to the side of the van and tapped on the window. I rolled down the glass, and he leaned in.
“Sarah, you need to take foot off brake.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized as I moved my foot.
The vehicle started to roll backwards.
“Put foot back on brake!” he bellowed. His accent seemed to get stronger when he was upset.
I jumped and slammed my foot down at the same time, wishing he hadn’t yelled.
“Keep your foot on the brake till I say to push,” he said, returning to the back of the van. “Push!”
I lifted my foot, and the van started moving — not quickly, but it definitely was inching forward. I held on to the wheel even tighter. The van picked up speed and we cleared the gate. The whole park opened before me. There were pens and some buildings down the road — far enough away that there was no chance I could hit them.
The van continued to pick up speed. Boy, were they ever pushing hard! I wondered how far they wanted to go. Maybe to that first building. Every metre closer meant a metre less we had to carry our luggage.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. They weren’t pushing — they were far behind, running and waving their arms! My stomach did a flip! I realized I was going down a slight hill that led all the way to the buildings — and I was rolling, picking up speed, going faster and faster! I slammed my foot on the brake. The van screeched to a stop and, to my shock, I continued forward, soaring out of my seat over the steering wheel and toward the windshield. Helpless, I tried to free my hands from the wheel, but I could only slightly turn my head as the side of my face smacked into the glass. I bounced back and landed in the seat again.
That hurt like crazy, but at least I’d managed to … The van started forward again slowly. I jammed my foot back onto the brake. There had to be some way to keep it from rolling without my keeping my foot there. I thought about my mother driving and all the times I’d watched her and … the emergency brake! I looked to the side, saw the little pedal, pushed it down and locked it into place. When I removed my foot, the van stayed still.
I opened the door and climbed out. The others were still down the road and were now walking. I bent down and looked at my face in the side-view mirror. I couldn’t see anything — no cut, or bruising — at least not yet, but it still felt sore as I rubbed the side of my face. The only good thing was that Nick hadn’t been there to laugh about it.
“We thought you were stealing the van!” Nick yelled as they closed in.
“I just figured I’d save us from having to carry the bags so far.”
Vladimir opened the back door and started to pull out our luggage. I circled around the side and joined everybody else.
“Do we have to carry our things much farther?” Samantha asked.
“Not far,” Vladimir said, pointing toward a large house.
I’d stopped the van almost directly in front of it. The house looked really fancy. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. We grabbed our bags. All I wanted to do was unpack and take a bath. It wasn’t just that I wanted to get clean. I also needed a door that would lock with me on one side and Nick and the rest of the world on the other. Maybe since there were only four of us I’d even have my own bathroom.
“This is some place,” Nick said. “It certainly doesn’t look like a shack.”
That last comment was aimed at me. This was one of the few times in my life that I was glad Nick was right and I was wrong.
“It is a big, new house,” Vladimir said.
“Was it built just for the campers?” Samantha asked.
“Campers?” Vladimir asked.
“For us,” I said. “The kids who are coming to stay here.”
“Not for you. For the owners.”
“So we’re not staying there?” I questioned, stating the obvious.
“Nyet … um, no. You stay — come, follow me.”
We trudged behind him. My bags seemed to be
Vladimir walked to the side of the van and tapped on the window. I rolled down the glass, and he leaned in.
“Sarah, you need to take foot off brake.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized as I moved my foot.
The vehicle started to roll backwards.
“Put foot back on brake!” he bellowed. His accent seemed to get stronger when he was upset.
I jumped and slammed my foot down at the same time, wishing he hadn’t yelled.
“Keep your foot on the brake till I say to push,” he said, returning to the back of the van. “Push!”
I lifted my foot, and the van started moving — not quickly, but it definitely was inching forward. I held on to the wheel even tighter. The van picked up speed and we cleared the gate. The whole park opened before me. There were pens and some buildings down the road — far enough away that there was no chance I could hit them.
The van continued to pick up speed. Boy, were they ever pushing hard! I wondered how far they wanted to go. Maybe to that first building. Every metre closer meant a metre less we had to carry our luggage.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. They weren’t pushing — they were far behind, running and waving their arms! My stomach did a flip! I realized I was going down a slight hill that led all the way to the buildings — and I was rolling, picking up speed, going faster and faster! I slammed my foot on the brake. The van screeched to a stop and, to my shock, I continued forward, soaring out of my seat over the steering wheel and toward the windshield. Helpless, I tried to free my hands from the wheel, but I could only slightly turn my head as the side of my face smacked into the glass. I bounced back and landed in the seat again.
That hurt like crazy, but at least I’d managed to … The van started forward again slowly. I jammed my foot back onto the brake. There had to be some way to keep it from rolling without my keeping my foot there. I thought about my mother driving and all the times I’d watched her and … the emergency brake! I looked to the side, saw the little pedal, pushed it down and locked it into place. When I removed my foot, the van stayed still.
I opened the door and climbed out. The others were still down the road and were now walking. I bent down and looked at my face in the side-view mirror. I couldn’t see anything — no cut, or bruising — at least not yet, but it still felt sore as I rubbed the side of my face. The only good thing was that Nick hadn’t been there to laugh about it.
“We thought you were stealing the van!” Nick yelled as they closed in.
“I just figured I’d save us from having to carry the bags so far.”
Vladimir opened the back door and started to pull out our luggage. I circled around the side and joined everybody else.
“Do we have to carry our things much farther?” Samantha asked.
“Not far,” Vladimir said, pointing toward a large house.
I’d stopped the van almost directly in front of it. The house looked really fancy. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. We grabbed our bags. All I wanted to do was unpack and take a bath. It wasn’t just that I wanted to get clean. I also needed a door that would lock with me on one side and Nick and the rest of the world on the other. Maybe since there were only four of us I’d even have my own bathroom.
“This is some place,” Nick said. “It certainly doesn’t look like a shack.”
That last comment was aimed at me. This was one of the few times in my life that I was glad Nick was right and I was wrong.
“It is a big, new house,” Vladimir said.
“Was it built just for the campers?” Samantha asked.
“Campers?” Vladimir asked.
“For us,” I said. “The kids who are coming to stay here.”
“Not for you. For the owners.”
“So we’re not staying there?” I questioned, stating the obvious.
“Nyet … um, no. You stay — come, follow me.”
We trudged behind him. My bags seemed to be
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