Stella Díaz Dreams Big Page 7

  I tell her I’m in fourth grade, and she tells me she’s in sixth grade.

  “Fourth grade was one of my favorite years in elementary school,” she says with a genuine smile.

  I smile back. I think Izzy might be as nice as I hoped. Maybe she and I can start our own save-the-oceans organization. I have a few names for the new club in mind already.

  “Well, we are all packed up in our car, Perla,” says Diego. “Do you want help loading up your car?”

  “Thank you, but I think we’ve got it, Diego,” Mom replies.

  Diego gives us all high fives. “Then Izzy and I will hit the road. See you all there!”

  As we pack up the car with our tent, sleeping bags, and a cooler full of food, I ask Mom about a few last items to pack.

  “Can I bring the tablet?”

  “Nope!” she replies, moving things around in the trunk to make room for more gear.

  “Homework?” I ask.

  “No-no,” she replies in a singsongy voice.

  “Then what can I bring?” I ask, frustrated.

  Mom stops to think.

  “A book, your sketchbook, and playing cards. That’s it. The idea is to take a descanso and clear your mind.”

  I feel a mixture of relief and stress. While I’m excited about doing nothing, I also worry about falling behind. I should be working on my egg-drop device. We are doing the big launch on Monday, and we’ve only had failure after failure.

  “Don’t worry about homework,” Mom says, sensing what I’m feeling. “You’ll have Sunday afternoon to work on it.”

  After we load up the car, we head for Indiana Dunes National Park. We soon leave the Chicago skyline behind, and the buildings get smaller as we drive. Before we know it, the landscape is much emptier.

  “There’s nothing out here,” I say, looking out the window.

  “Isn’t it great?!” says Mom. “We’re only an hour and a half away from home, too!”

  I suddenly regret agreeing to this trip. What if I get bored? I wonder how long it would take me to walk home.

  When we arrive at the visitor center of the national park, we meet back up with Diego and Izzy. Diego has already picked up our campsite packet.

  “Hey, Díaz family. Do you want to see something fun?” He pulls out a navy-blue booklet from the back pocket of his jeans.

  “It’s one of my prized possessions.” He flips to the front. “This is a national parks passport book.”

  “What’s that for?” asks Mom.

  He excitedly explains, “At every national park, monument, or site you go to, you can get a cancellation stamp in this book. I’m about to go get mine for Indiana Dunes. Want to come along?”

  My eyes grow big. I love stamps, stickers, buttons, you name it. We follow him over to the kiosk, and he stamps his booklet. Then he flips through the pages and points out some of his favorite stamps.

  “This one is from the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. That was really cool. You can go up the arch, too, in this small pod elevator and everything.”

  “It looked futuristic, like Star Trek,” adds Izzy.

  I notice a stamp of a horse in the booklet. It has a big X on top of the horse’s face.

  “What’s that one?” I say, pointing.

  Diego starts chuckling. “That is from Assateague Island National Seashore. My friend and I tried to go camping there once, but we got chased away by wild horses! They stole our food and everything.”

  My mouth drops. Horses are so cute! I can’t imagine them being bullies like that. I study Diego a little bit. The passport book is pretty interesting.

  “You can look at this more later. ¡Vámonos! Our adventure awaits,” says Diego.

  As we follow Diego in his car to our campsite, I’m blown away by the size and shapes of the sand dunes. Not only are they big, but they also look so clean and smooth, like clouds. I want to roll around on them like I do in the snow. With all the sand and how empty the skyline is, it almost looks as if we’re at the ocean instead of Lake Michigan. I could stare at the scenery for hours. It’s beautiful.

  Unfortunately, our campsite is not on the dunes. It’s in the middle of the woods nearby. It looks like an average park and definitely less adventurous. We begin to unpack.

  “Do you all know how to set up your tent?” asks Diego.

  “Oh, we’re experts,” Nick jokes. He gently elbows me in the side.

  We set up the tent a few feet from Diego and Izzy’s tent.

  When we’re done, I sit down at the picnic table at our site. I begin feeling antsy. It’s strange not to be doing something. I should be at my Sea Musketeers meeting now or painting the mural. Not to mention doing homework. I’m starting to regret this trip again. I decide to pull out my sketchbook to entertain myself when suddenly I feel a bite on my hand.

  “Ouch!”

  I look down at the source, and there is a mosquito! I quickly flick it away.

  Diego looks over.

  “I thought it would be too late in the year for them.” Diego frowns. “Better use the bug repellent.”

  He tosses me a can of natural repellent, which I quickly spray on. Before I know it, I’m engulfed in a cloud of sticky, orange-smelling mist.

  Diego adds, “Watch out! That stuff can be a little strong. Just use a little bit at a time.”

  Too late, I think as I cough. Worst of all, my hand still feels itchy.

  I scratch my hand and look over at Mom and Diego. I’m observing carefully for any clue or hint that they like like each other. I haven’t seen any hand holding, hugs, or—ew—kisses, yet. I’m staring at them like a hawk until I hear Diego say to Mom, “Don’t forget to keep the food in the car or in the food locker.”

  “Why?” I ask, interrupting their conversation.

  Diego turns toward me. “Well, there aren’t any bears out here. Those haven’t been seen in the park in several years. But there are other critters, and the smell of food will attract them to our site. We should really have the food out only when we’re preparing a meal or eating.”

  My eyes grow big. Critters? What type of critters? Will they try to eat me? Are there snakes? A mountain lion? Or worse, wolves? This was the worst idea! I’m bored, I’m itchy, and I might not make it out alive.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After our campsite is set up, Mom suggests we hike over to the dunes. I’m happy to have something to do because I was having a hard time just sitting there. It seemed like everyone was working on something. Mom was inflating our sleeping pads, Izzy was helping her dad with their tent, Nick was gathering firewood, and I had nothing. No one wanted my help, so I tried drawing, but I felt too restless. Drawing reminded me of Sea Musketeers posters and homework. The exact things I didn’t want to be thinking about.

  We grab the map and begin the hike. I’m looking everywhere for potential predators. Soon Diego begins to identify different birds along the path with his binoculars. The first bird he points out is black with a fiery red spot near its wing.

  “That’s a red-winged blackbird. They usually live by water and marshes.”

  He pauses, and his eyes light up again. “And do you hear that? It’s a woodpecker. Let’s try to find him.”

  I think Diego must love birds as much as I love marine animals.

  We stop and scan the trees. I can’t see anything but trees. Then Izzy spots him. “It’s over there, Dad!”

  “Good eye, Izzy!” exclaims Diego.

  Izzy beams, and Diego gives her a side hug. Looking at the two of them, I am jealous for a second. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my dad. Diego seems like a really good dad. A reliable dad.

  “How come you know so much about birds and the outdoors?” Mom asks Diego.

  “I joined the Boy Scouts when I was ten. We had just moved to the United States from El Salvador. Those kids were my first group of real friends.” He peeks through his binoculars. “And I guess I never grew out of playing outdoors.”

  Diego’s experience with
the Boy Scouts kind of sounds like me and the Sea Musketeers. Before them, I really had only Jenny and Stanley for friends. I miss my club mates for a second, but I quickly ignore the feeling. I’m still too upset.

  We soon arrive at the dunes and stand there, taking in the epic view. I just want to run on top of them and roll around.

  Then Diego takes a runner’s stance.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s have some fun!” Diego says as he takes off.

  We bolt toward the dunes. It’s exhausting to climb all the way to the top, but once we do, we walk around. It’s the most fun I’ve had in weeks. Tumbling on the dunes, I even forget about the Sea Musketeers, the egg drop, and Ben. After making a sand angel, I look over at Mom. I notice she’s sitting on a dune staring at the lake by herself.

  Wiped out, I walk over to Mom and plop down beside her.

  “Es mágico,” Mom says in a soft voice.

  I nod. It is magical. The water shimmers like gold in front of our eyes. I feel at peace. I also feel brave enough to ask Mom about Diego.

  “Mom … do you and Diego like like each other?”

  Mom laughs. “Are you asking if we’re dating?”

  I nod.

  She looks at me. “No, we’re not.” She pauses. “I think he’s great, and maybe someday there might be something else, but our friendship is still very new.”

  “Oh,” I reply, letting out a sigh of relief. “But why aren’t you dating?”

  “We both have kids, and you guys mean the world to us. I’d rather take my time to make sure that’s something worth doing. Right now, it’s just great to have a new friend nearby.”

  “Well, I don’t think it would be bad if you dated Diego,” I say, giving her my approval. “He’s nice.”

  “Gracias, Stellita,” she replies. “And if anything were to change, you and Nick would be the first to know. Te prometo.”

  We stay at the dunes until sunset. Then we head back to our campsite for dinner. Mom and Diego prepare our food on the grill, while we kids sit around a campfire. I thought I would be terribly bored just looking at a fire, but I get sucked in watching the flames.

  When dinner is ready, we move to the picnic table. Izzy sits down next to me. It’s the closest I’ve been to her all day. Even on our hike, she mostly stuck by her dad’s side while I stayed near Nick and Mom. Maybe she’d like to chat! She has a book in her hand, but she’s not reading and she’s sitting pretty close. I could even ask her about forming a new oceans club with me. I have two possible club names, but they are not particularly great.

  I struggle with how to begin. I think about using a conversation starter. I have a good one, too. Like, did you know the ocean contains more historical artifacts than all the museums in the world combined? While that fact is incredible, I decide against using it. Instead, I ask a simple question.

  “Why did you like fourth grade the most, Izzy?”

  Izzy puts down her book. “I had the best teacher that year, Ms. Christie. She told everyone that she was one hundred and eight years old. I also had class with my best friend that year. Oh, and the egg drop, of course!”

  I sigh. “I’m working on an egg drop right now. We’re doing terrible!”

  Izzy flashes a sympathetic look. “I know it’s hard. We made so many mistakes until we made it work. It felt great when we did.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll figure out a way to make it work,” I say, frowning.

  “I can give you some pointers if you’d like,” she says. “I wouldn’t have been able to make my egg drop work without some help.”

  “Really?” I reply.

  Izzy says, “Totally! I was stuck until my dad stepped in. We found videos online that gave us ideas.”

  I rest my forehead on my palm. That’s so smart. Why didn’t I think to do that?

  Izzy nods knowingly. “I’d be happy to share my experiences.” She pushes up her glasses. “You want to do that right now?”

  “Yes, please!” I exclaim.

  I run and grab my sketchbook.

  Izzy begins, “The most important thing about the egg drop is that you use different materials to help support the egg. You can’t rely on only one material to protect it. It’s sort of like a team carrying the load.”

  I pause. That’s just what Stanley said about having a copresident for the Sea Musketeers. Maybe Stanley is right about the club.

  Izzy and I continue to chat over dinner about the project and what it’s like in sixth grade.

  Izzy says, “I have to admit, middle school is a little scary, but I’m lucky I have most of my classes with Eli.”

  “Who is Eli?” I ask.

  “My best friend,” Izzy replies.

  My mouth drops. “Your best friend is a boy?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, and he’s awesome.” Izzy then says, “And some people have teased us, but whatever. Those aren’t people I’d want to be friends with, anyway.”

  I smile. Izzy has a point. I’m starting to realize that Ben is just immature.

  I’m chomping down on a hot dog when Izzy notices some of my Sea Musketeers drawings in my sketchbook. I was working on a logo for the club a few weeks ago before everything turned upside down.

  “What’s that?” she asks.

  “Oh, it’s for a club I’m part of. It’s called the Sea Musketeers.”

  She replies, “That’s cool! You’re so lucky to have a club.”

  I nod silently. She looks like she wants to chat more about it, but thankfully Diego asks, “Do you guys want any s’mores?”

  “¿Qué es eso?” asks Mom.

  Nick replies, “Oh, I’ve had s’mores ice cream, but never a campfire one. It’s a marshmallow-and-chocolate thing.”

  “Don’t forget about the graham cracker!” says Izzy.

  Diego prepares our first campfire s’mores. Mom thinks they’re too sweet, but I think the ooey, gooey, melty treat is perfect. I make a second and third one by myself. We then put out the fire and stare at the night sky. In the complete darkness, I can see more stars than I’ve ever seen before. They even twinkle, like the lullaby. I understand more why Stanley is obsessed with outer space. I almost have the same feeling looking at the sky as I do when I stare at the ocean. Altogether, I have to say this evening has been a great adventure.

  Then, with a belly full of hot dogs and s’mores, I fall fast asleep in the tent in between Nick and Mom.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In the morning, we wake up extra early to see the sun rise over the lake. Although we spent the night in our sleeping bags on top of thin pads, I feel it’s the best sleep I’ve had in days. I stretch my arms wide above my head. Maybe this whole camping thing really was just what I needed.

  “I can’t even remember the last time I saw a sunrise,” says Nick, sleepily sitting on the dunes. Nick might not be a morning person, but he made an effort today to see the early-morning light show. It is well worth it, too.

  After breakfast, we head back so Nick and I can get started on our homework. I can still smell the campfire on my clothes on the car ride home. I like it. It reminds me of sitting by the cozy fire. I stare out the window. I think I can see the Shedd Aquarium on the horizon. Then I start thinking about the Sea Musketeers. While I’m still hurt about the whole thing, I sort of understand why they suggested we should have a copresident. I was sort of lying to myself about the little mistakes I was making. It is also a lot to be the president, and it makes sense to share the load.

  I am still staring at the Chicago skyline when Mom brings up how overwhelmed I’ve been. It’s almost as if she could read my mind.

  “Now, I don’t want you to give up any of your activities,” Mom says.

  I sigh. “Whew.”

  Then she continues, “But … I think we need to come up with a new schedule. Times in the week for you to work on extracurricular activities and homework. That way, we can make sure you’re getting everything done and not feeling overwhelmed. We should also write down every project
you’re working on so we don’t lose track of anything.”

  “Yes, please!”

  “And we can’t forget to include fun in this schedule. When you don’t take breathers from work, it’s easy to get upset and burned out.” Mom makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror while she talks. I turn roja.

  Mom adds, “Like no working during our Friday night appointments. I set that up in my own schedule a long time ago so I could always make sure we’d have fun together every week.”

  “That’s why you call it our weekly appointment?!” I ask. I hadn’t even considered that Mom made us part of her schedule. I just assumed Mom came up with a funny name for our Friday nights. Like the way she calls our feet patas instead of pies. That’s because she thinks it’s cuter to call our feet ducks’ feet than regular plain feet.

  “Of course! I wasn’t born a superwoman. I had to learn,” Mom replies, looking at me in the rearview mirror with a smile.

  Nick groans a little.

  Mom pokes at him. “And you two are my superbebés.”

  He scoffs, but I can see his secret smirk as he replies, “Okay, Mom.”

  We work on my schedule once we get home. Mom uses a chalkboard in the kitchen to write down what we decide I should work on each day. This way, I can see it in big clear letters while I’m working. She even blocks in break times in pink chalk.

  “Now it looks extra fun,” Mom says.

  When we’re done, I know I need to do two big things today. I have to work on the egg drop, which is on my official schedule, but I also have on my personal list to talk to the Sea Musketeers. I start with Stanley. I give him a call, and he comes over to my house to work on the egg-drop project.

  “Did you like your camping trip?” asks Stanley in an extra-polite voice. I can tell he is still being careful around me, like he has ever since the Sea Musketeers fiasco.

  “It was AMAZING!”

  Then I ramble on for ten minutes about the trip, until I spy the chalkboard and remember it’s egg-drop time.

  I tell Stanley, “But the best part is, Izzy also has done the egg-drop project. She had some pointers for us.”