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

They were pathetic. The third was about people who pierce weird body parts: One girl had a silver nail run through her bellybutton, and another one had a diamond stud put in her tongue. One exposed her bellybutton, and the other stuck out her tongue. They were disgusting. The phone rang twice. It was my dad again, sounding worried that I was not answering. Then it was Margaret again, saying that she hoped we would come over since another nest was due to hatch.
    I erased all the messages.
    Not answering the phone but hearing what people on the other end were saying was a little bit like spying. I enjoyed it.
    Dad walked into the apartment looking frazzled. He was looking very much like the unstrung self who had picked me up from the airport. “Where were you?” he demanded. “I have been calling every twenty minutes.”
    â€œI noticed,” I said. When he asked me why I had not returned his calls, I said that I did not think they were important.
    â€œI’m taking tomorrow off,” he said.
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” I asked. “Hover?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œNothing.”
Nothing
is a mean answer, but sometimes nothing works. Sometimes nothing else does.
    â€œI thought we might go up to Disney World. You used to like Epcot.”
    â€œWhat will I do with Ginger?” I asked.
    â€œWell, let me find out what accommodations they have for dogs.…”
    Just then the phone rang. Dad picked it up. I could tell by the way he was speaking that it was Grandpa Izzy asking if he would be coming over for the evening’s turtle walk. When he hung up, Dad asked me if I would like to invite Ethan to come to Disney World with us. I could not believe he was asking me that question. I just stared at him.
    â€œWell,” he said, “he seemed to enjoy
The Phantom of the Opera
so much, I thought he might enjoy …” I continued to stare at my father and say nothing. He cleared his throat. “If you don’t like the idea of asking Ethan, would you like to ask one of your friends from the old neighborhood?” He was practically pleading with me to ask someone. Without turtles my father did not know what to do with me.
    Even though Disney World was only a two hours’ drive from his apartment, Dad had decided that it might be more fun if we stayed overnight at one of Disney’s theme hotels. He called and got us reservations, and we went to our rooms to pack our overnight bags.
    That evening a northeaster hit the coast. The winds were thirty-five miles an hour with gales up to fifty. There was coastal flooding, which meant that the low lying highways and many side roads and ramps would be closed. That meant that the interstates that were normally bumper to bumper but moving would be bumper to bumper and not moving. Before we went to bed, Dad suggested that we avoid rush hour by starting out late in the morning instead of early.
    The phone rang at midnight. Dad called in to me and said that I should pick up the phone. It was Grandpa Izzy.
    â€œIt’s an emergency,” he said, pleading. “Our hatchlings will be swept ashore by the winds. We have to harvest them early tomorrow before daylight. Before the birds get them. Margaret and I think you ought to drive up here now so that we can get an early start. Traffic will be impossible in the morning.”
    Grandpa was so sincere, so concerned about the turtles, so convinced that we would answer his 911 that it was obvious Dad had never told him that I had canceled all future turtle walks. I waited to see how Dad would turn him down. Dad did his best thing; he remained silent.
    Grandpa said, “Nadia, are you there? Are you on the line, darling?”
    â€œI am here, Grandpa.…”
    â€œYou know what will happen if we don’t gather them up. Can’t you come?”
    â€œDad and I had plans…”
    â€œWhat plans, darling? You don’t want the baby turtles to