View from Saturday (9781439132012) by E. L. Konigsburg

decided to stay here.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œIt is not important.”
    Dad waited by the door, waited for me to explain, but I said nothing. I wanted silence to make him as miserable asit had made me. He hesitated, then came into my room, sat on the edge of the bed, and said nothing. He hovered. I struggled with silence until I could not stand it another second, so I said, “Did you know that I did a report on turtles last year?”
    â€œYes. I knew that.”
    â€œYou never seemed very interested in turtles when I did my report.”
    â€œI guess I had other things on my mind.”
    The pulse in my ears was so strong, I hardly heard him. “I guess it took an invitation from Margaret to get you interested.”
    â€œPartly that and partly that I had the time.’
    â€œYour child custody time,” I said. Dad let out a long sigh and looked so embarrassed that I almost did not say what I was about to say, but I did. “I have decided not to spend your child custody time on turtle walks with Margaret and her grandson. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. If you want to take turtle walks, you go ahead and take turtle walks. You can get permitted without me. All you need are turtles and Margaret.” I had not only broken my silence, I was almost screaming.
    Dad looked at his watch. If there is one thing I really detest, it is having someone look at his watch as he is talking to me. It says to me that time spent elsewhere is more important than time spent talking to me. “I have an appointment at the office in an hour.” He glanced at his watch again.
    â€œI am sure it is an important appointment,” I said.
    â€œYes, it is,” he replied.
    Dad was so preoccupied with time that he did not even notice the sarcasm in my voice.
    â€œLet me call Margaret to let her know we won’t be there.”
    â€œYou can go,” I said. “You go. I would not want you to miss a turtle walk for my sake. It might interfere with your getting permitted.”
    â€œThere’s no way I can make it up there and back in time for my appointment.”
    â€œAre you trying to tell me that I have kept you from your turtle walk?”
    â€œWell, no. But, yes.” He looked confused. “What I meant to say is that, yes, this conversation has kept me from going on a turtle walk, but no, that is not what I am trying to tell you. You know that if it had not been for your unwillingness to go, I would have.”
    He glanced at his watch again. “Let me call Margaret. Then we’ll have time for breakfast, and we’ll talk about it.” He started out the door, turned back and said, “I won’t tell her why you’re not coming.”
    â€œTell her. I do not care. She knows every other thing about me. Tell her,” I said. “And do not count on me for breakfast. I do not want any.” I turned my back to him and my face to the pillow.
    The telephone rang in the middle of the morning. I let the recorder get it. It was Margaret, telling me that she would come pick me up if I would call. I did not. Instead, I took Ginger for a walk around the golf course that borders swinging singles. When we returned, I saw that there was a message on the machine. I played it. It was Grandpa Izzy asking me to please call. I erased the message. I sat out by the pool for a while and read, came back to the apartment for lunch, and that is when I ate the breakfast cereal that my dad had put out on the counter in the kitchen. He called while I was eating. I did not pick the phone up then either.
    After lunch, I took Ginger for another walk, called the airline to see how much it would cost if I changed my ticketto go home early. Thirty-five dollars. I watched three talk shows on television. One was about teenagers whose mothers flirt with their boyfriends. They were pathetic. Another was about men who said they lost their jobs because they refused to cut off their ponytails.