Troubling a Star by Madeleine L'Engle Page B

to get from Vespugia to Antarctica, so I said, “Adam’s going to go through Vespugia on his way to Antarctica. Isn’t there a lot of interest in developing Antarctica?”
    Daddy looked up. “I don’t think ‘developing’ is the right word. A lot of countries want their share, and more.”
    Suzy said, “Ned says it should be made into a global park. He says it would be a real disaster if people started dumping their waste there.”
    â€œWhat kind of waste?” John asked.
    â€œAnything. Ned says that it’s terrific that so many countries are dismantling nuclear weapons, but then all the stuff they’re made of is still dangerous and has to go somewhere.”
    Ned says. Ned says. We were all getting a little tired of hearing Suzy quote Ned. But at least I’d managed to get some information. Suzy was a lot less politically illiterate than I, and so was John.
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    Daddy went for Aunt Serena about five o’clock on Thanksgiving afternoon, when dark had come. We had an applewood fire blazing in the big fireplace, and the house smelled marvelous, applewood and turkey and spices.
    John handed me a package. “Here’s my present. I think it’s pretty apt.” It was a Thesaurus, a really nice one. Suzy gave me a paperback dictionary of quotations, which would be good for looking up Shakespeare to send Adam. I was truly pleased, and that pleased Suzy. My parents gave me a fountain
pen, the kind that’s all the rage at school, and a new backpack that was lightweight but would hold a lot of books.
    Daddy said, “And we’ve added a bit to your college fund.”
    I flung out my arms as though to embrace the entire room. “Thanks a million, everybody!” Then I put my poem into Aunt Serena’s lap, and she looked down, and I could see her reading it quickly.
    â€œI’ll read it properly at bedtime, and treasure it. It’s been a long time since anybody’s written me a poem. Thank you.” She had brought a large reticule—I think that’s what it would be called—and she pulled out a brown manila envelope.
    â€œHere, Vicky, happy birthday.” She handed the envelope to me.
    Inside were airline tickets. I looked at them curiously: to Miami, Florida. To San Sebastián, Vespugia. To Santiago, Chile. To Punta Arenas, Chile. There were some other, larger tickets. “Wh—what—?” I gasped.
    â€œAntarctica.” Aunt Serena smiled at me. “I’m sending you to Antarctica.”
    â€œBut, Aunt Serena—” I looked at my parents, and I could see that they were as startled as I was. Even Suzy was struck dumb.
    Aunt Serena smiled at us all. “No, I’m not out of my mind. I knew that if I tried to plan it with you, I’d meet with all kinds of resistance.” She turned to my parents. “Cook is going to the Falklands in January to visit his twin brother, and he will be an ideal chaperone for Vicky. He will be with her until they reach Port Stanley. Then, while Cook and Seth have
some time together, Vicky can continue on to the Antarctic peninsula on the Argosy . It’s a pleasant small ship, and Cook knows several of the lecturers, so she’ll be properly cared for. She’ll see Adam, of course, when the ship anchors off Eddington Point, where LeNoir Station is. Then when it comes back to South America, Cook will meet Vicky when she disembarks, and they can fly home together.” She paused, quite breathless.
    I was breathless, too. Speechless.
    John had been studying Aunt Serena. Now he looked at me. “It’s a great opportunity, Sis.”
    â€œOh, wow!” Suzy’s tongue was loosened. “If you don’t want to go, Vicky, I’ll go.”
    Rob said, “And she’ll be okay, won’t she?”
    â€œOf course.” Aunt Serena smiled at him. “The Argosy has an ice-hardened double hull, especially prepared for moving