A Million Miles from Boston Read online

  OTHER BOOKS BY KAREN DAY

  Tall Tales

  No Cream Puffs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Wendy Lamb Books, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Wendy Lamb Books and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Day, Karen.

  A million miles from Boston / Karen Day. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Rising seventh-grader Lucy plans on a perfect summer at the Maine lake

  where her family has owned a cottage for decades, but family of a classmate she dislikes

  has bought a home there and her widowed father is bringing a girlfriend to visit.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89690-3 [1. Vacation homes—Fiction.

  2. Summer—Fiction. 3. Single-parent families—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction.

  5. Dogs—Fiction. 6. Family life—Maine—Fiction. 7. Maine—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.D3316Mil 2011

  [Fic]—dc22

  2010016475

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  For Jeane

  And for Emma and Rebecca

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  an Richards walked around the corner of the nature exhibit at the mall, his long arms swinging. He had thick blond hair and a smirk on his face.

  “Wanna see what I found?” He glanced at us: me, Annie, Rachel and Mei. Ian was one of the most popular boys in our grade, but he didn’t like me. I didn’t like him, either. “Come on,” he said. “Follow me.”

  Mei turned to me. “Lucy, come on!”

  My friends and I were celebrating the end of sixth grade, two weeks away. We’d had a great day, shopping and getting our ears pierced. I glanced across the mall to the restaurant where the moms sat talking. I’d much rather have gone back to them, but Annie, Rachel and Mei had already started after Ian.

  Charlie and Michael, two boys from our grade, stood near the exhibit.

  “Let’s be quick,” Mei whispered. Like me, she was kind of shy around boys.

  “Look! Think they’re real?” Ian pointed to turtles on a long, flat rock next to a small pond.

  “Cute,” Annie said. “But fake. They’re not moving.”

  Trees, grass, bushes and pond took up the whole center of the mall. Water fell in a long, straight line from a boulder high above us, and the air was warm and damp. The birch trees had perfect branches with soft, shiny green leaves. I touched the white bark. Plastic.

  Ian grinned and climbed over a low fence into the exhibit.

  “What are you doing?” Annie tried to grab his shirt. “Someone’ll see you!”

  Ian squatted in front of a turtle. “Are you real?”

  “Dude!” Michael laughed.

  A sign read KEEP OUT. DO NOT FEED FISH OR TURTLES.

  I looked around. A man sat on a nearby bench, reading. A little girl watched us from across the pond. She looked about seven, the same age as my brother, Bucky. Her mom bent over a stroller.

  I turned back to Ian. We hadn’t talked since we were paired for the water project the past winter. What a disaster.

  Ian dropped to his hands and knees and lowered his face to the turtle. It was the size of my palm and it stared back at him, neck, face and limbs still. Then Ian rounded his back, pinched his lips into an O and sucked in his cheeks, making his eyes small.

  “Be careful or the turtle’ll think you’re his mother,” Charlie said. Everyone cracked up, even me. He did look like a turtle.

  “Hey, you alive?” Ian poked the turtle’s shell. Its head and limbs popped into its shell. Ian startled and sat back.

  Michael laughed. “You afraid of a little turtle?”

  Ian grabbed the turtle and jumped out of the exhibit. He thrust it at Annie. “Killer turtle! Gonna eat you!”

  Annie and Rachel screamed and ran behind Charlie. Ian shoved the turtle in Mei’s face but she just put her hands on her hips and scowled. He went after Annie and Rachel, waving the turtle in front of him as if it were a weapon.

  “Eew! Get that away from me!” Annie screamed.

  “Killer turtle!” Ian lifted the turtle over his head, then zoomed it down at me.

  I stared at the turtle, only inches from my nose. It had to be terrified, dizzy, maybe hurt. I glanced at the little girl who watched, her lips quivering.

  “Stop it!” I said. “You’re scaring the turtle!”

  Ian turned it to face him. “Turtles don’t feel.”

  I yelled, “How would you like it if someone swung you around that way? Of course he can feel. He disappeared inside his shell!”

  “Oh, so you’re an expert on turtles, too?” Ian glared at me.

  “You two aren’t going to start fighting again, are you?” Annie asked.

  Ian and I had gotten into a big argument during the water project after he had pulled up a photo of a naked man on our librarian’s computer and blamed it on me.

  “Miss Perfect Student!” Now Ian grinned at the others.

  “God, Ian,” Mei said. Then she added, “So annoying,” under her breath.

  “We gotta go,” Charlie said. “Just put the turtle back.”

  I walked up close to Ian. How would he like it if I called him a name?

  I glanced at the little girl watching, then down at the turtle. Its shell was beautiful, with different shades of brown and black and white speckles. I lowered my voice. “See that little girl? She’s scared. Let me have the turtle so she doesn’t have nightmares about this. Okay?”

  I hadn’t planned to say this and Ian seemed as surprised as I was. He let me take the turtle.

  I climbed into the exhibit and set the turtle next to the water. I waited, but its body stayed inside its shell.

  “Lucy! What are you doing?” Mei’s mom walked up.

  “I was just …” I stood and looked at my friends.

  “You shouldn’t be in there!” Mrs. Wu said.

  “Shame on you, Lucy Goosey! Breaking the rules again!” Ian laughed.

  “What?” I glared at him.

  “It’s your fault!” Mei said to Ian.

  He grinned and stuck out his hand toward Mrs. Wu. “Ian Rich
ards. Nice to meet you.”

  They shook and Mrs. Wu said, “What’s going on here?”

  Ian laughed, knocked off Michael’s cap and grabbed it from the ground. Then he ran toward the stores, Charlie and Michael following.

  Ian had done it again, blamed something he’d done on me!

  Mei told her mom what had happened. Mrs. Wu said, “I’m sorry I was cross, Lucy. I didn’t know the whole story. Girls, we’re leaving in ten minutes. Make sure you wash your hands, Lucy. We’ll wait at the restaurant.”

  “He’s such a jerk,” Rachel said.

  “True,” Annie said. “But he’s funny, don’t you think? And kinda cute?”

  “Annie!” I said. Everyone laughed.

  They walked over to a nearby store. I looked across the pond. The little girl was gone and the turtle remained inside its shell.

  Sometimes my black lab, Superior, and I saw turtles in the woods at Pierson Point, Maine, where my family and I spent summers. Thinking of the Point made me happy. Who cared about Ian? Soon I’d be up there.

  “Lucy, come on,” Mei called.

  “Okay.” The turtle’s head inched out of its shell, and I smiled and ran off to wash my hands.

  When I got back, the moms were still talking at their table.

  My mom had died years earlier, so I was used to being on my own. But I really liked that my friends’ moms were always nice to me.

  I raised my hand to my ear and twisted my new stud. The saleswoman had told us to do that twice a day to keep our ears from getting infected.

  “Don’t our ears look fab?” Annie asked. Everybody laughed and agreed.

  Earlier, when we had gotten our ears pierced, each mom had stood by her daughter, taking pictures, clapping. When it was my turn, all three moms crowded around me.

  “You’re ready for middle school,” Mrs. Stein said.

  In two weeks we’d be done with Taylor Elementary, forever. Exciting. Scary, too.

  But one good thing to look forward to: in the big new middle school, I could get away from Ian Richards.

  aylor Elementary was named after Jack Taylor, a hero in World War II who had been from our neighborhood. My brother, Bucky, thought that was cool and he loved to talk about it with our dad, who taught history at a college.

  But what I liked most about Taylor were the people.

  Every morning our principal greeted us at the door. My first-grade teacher gave me hugs when I saw her. And Mrs. Jonas, the best librarian in the world, looked the other way when I was late returning my favorite Audubon book, Birds of America.

  I knew that the gym teacher set up the obstacle course in the fall, the art teacher taught pastels in the spring and the lunch lady made extra brownies on Tuesdays. Sometimes teachers retired and new ones were hired. Sometimes they switched classrooms or taught different grades. But mostly Taylor was the same year after year.

  I thought about that as I looked out the window of the bus at Duggan Middle School. It had been nearly a week since we had pierced our ears. Since then, our class had sung in its last concert and had its end-of-the-year picnic.

  That day we’d toured Duggan. It was brand new and huge—four elementary schools fed into it—with three wings, a five-hundred-seat auditorium and a cafeteria so big you could barely see across it. The teachers we met were busy, official. And there were many of them.

  “You’ll get into a routine next year and then it won’t be so new,” Jenny, our babysitter, had said that morning as I’d stared at my uneaten toast. She grinned. “You’re such a creature of habit.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, silly.”

  Now Annie and Rachel bounced into the seat in front of me.

  “Wasn’t it awesome?” Annie said. “Finally! My cousin in Rhode Island has been in middle school since fifth grade.”

  Our class had stayed in elementary school an extra year, until Duggan was completed.

  “Did you see the cafeteria?” Rachel asked. “This is way cool!”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed.

  Charlie and Michael dove into the seat in front of Annie and Rachel. Everyone laughed and talked. I smiled. Duggan was cool. How come I wasn’t excited? Was I the only one who felt this way?

  A paper wad sailed over my head. When I looked up, Ian stood next to me.

  Ever since the day at the mall, we’d ignored each other. Now he stared at me, his hands jammed in his sweatshirt pockets, his freckles scrunched on his nose. I squeezed my knees. Was he going to sit here? Say something?

  Then someone pushed him from behind and he moved on. I let go of my knees as Mei ran down the aisle and sat next to me.

  The bus driver pulled away as she said, “What’d you think?”

  “It’s pretty big.”

  “Huge.” She tucked her black hair behind her ears. “I’m kinda dreading it.”

  I whipped my head to look at her. I’d known Mei since kindergarten. We were part of a big group of kids who went to each other’s birthday parties and played on the same soccer teams. This year Mei, Annie, Rachel and I had become best friends. But we’d never really talked about anything too serious.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I got lost. A custodian had to take me to the principal’s office. My first day and I was already in the principal’s office. I’m terrible at directions. And I’m so dreading seventh-grade math. It’s supposed to be super hard.”

  “I guess we’ll have to study harder, right?”

  She nodded, eyes down.

  I looked out the window. I wasn’t worried about math or getting lost. “I wish we could stay at Taylor.”

  “Me too.”

  We smiled at each other.

  I sat up. “Don’t worry about the first day. I’ll walk with you to your first class. And I’ll help you with math, too. It’s gotta be easier if we work together.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She smiled, more broadly this time.

  I was glad to help. But what could Mei do about my worries? I couldn’t stay in sixth grade forever.

  When I walked into my house, I heard Superior barking, her nails clicking as she ran down the stairs and into my arms.

  “I missed you, too.” I sat on the kitchen floor. Superior, licking my face, tried to get into my lap, but she was too big and fell out. I laughed, turned her over and scratched her tummy as she swished her tail on the floor. I stood.

  “Well?” Jenny walked into the kitchen. When Dad had hired her, she had been a graduate student at the college where he taught and was only supposed to be our babysitter until she graduated. But that had been six years earlier and she was still with us. She was still a graduate student, too.

  “It was okay.” I loved talking to Jenny, but I just wanted to forget about that day. Superior barked again and tried to wiggle between my legs. I scratched her back.

  “She’s been looking for you for hours.” Jenny opened a cabinet and started putting food into a big box on the counter. I peeked inside—tomato soup, chicken noodle soup, pasta, canned tomatoes.

  I grinned. Moving up to Pierson Point for the summer was the best part of the year and it was only days away.

  But it was a little sad, too. Every summer we went to the Point and Jenny went back to her family’s dairy farm in Wisconsin. We didn’t see each other for two months.

  “I’ll miss you,” I said.

  “Me too.” She held out her arms and I sank into her big tummy. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  I pulled away. The week before, after Rachel had a surprise party, I begged Jenny never to throw a party like that for me. Rachel’s party was okay, but I saw her panic when everyone yelled, “Surprise!” I like knowing what’s going to happen.

  “Don’t worry,” Jenny said, laughing. “It’s just dinner. Burritos, your favorite.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s having dinner with Julia.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. At first Dad had called her his phys
ical therapist, when she’d treated him for his sore back the year before. By the time I met her, three months ago, it was just “Julia.” I thought of her as “the PT.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re headed to the Point soon. He probably wants to say good-bye.”

  I reached for Superior, who licked my hand.

  Good-bye to the PT. Good riddance. See you next fall. Or if we were lucky, never again.

  “Why don’t you take Superior out before she splits a gut?” Jenny said.

  Outside, Superior trotted to the bushes. We’d adopted her not long after Mom had died. Dad had gotten her from a friend; she was a reject from a guide dog program, because she carried a gene that might cause her to go blind. I’d been in my room the afternoon Dad had brought her home, and I remembered lifting my head off my pillow to look at her.

  She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Silky black, big eyes, big smile.

  All day I played with her, showing her the house and walking her around the block. That night she slept on the rug next to my bed, and the next day I taught her to fetch the newspaper and pee in the grass behind the garage.

  Dad couldn’t believe how quickly she learned. Jenny said she was “far superior” to any dog she’d ever known, and the name stuck.

  I couldn’t always remember what had happened to me when I was younger. But whenever I asked Jenny if my memories of Superior from those first two days were right, she said, “That’s exactly how it happened. And she’s been your dog ever since.”

  I sat in the grass near Superior. Our yard was tiny, the nearby houses crammed close. We lived in Boston, with shops and buildings at the end of our street. A stop for the T, our subway, was just around the corner.

  Once, I’d seen a hawk in Boston, but mostly all I saw were people. The Point had ducks, geese, seals, cormorants, foxes, crabs, turtles, raccoons. The year before, Dad had seen an eagle. Up there the sky was big and clear, with so many stars that at night you hardly needed a flashlight. And all day long, you could go without shoes or socks. Everyone kept their cottage doors unlocked, windows open.

  The screen door creaked and Jenny stuck her head out. “I was thinking. Might be nice for you all to have visitors up to the Point this summer. Don’t you think?”