The next morning we woke up early like we always do. But this time was different, because we were sleeping in a car-house and had nowhere to be. Having nowhere to be didn’t keep Mom from bustling restlessly around the car-house like she had to be there on time.
It was a chilly morning, so Mom went to the cockpit to turn on the heater.
She turned the key, but instead of making car-noises, the car-house just said, tsk-tsk-tsk and went silent again.
Mom said all the bad words in every language in the universe, then she conjugated them. She peered at the lights and dials behind the driving wheel.
“Is the heater broken?” I asked.
“The van won’t start,” Mom told the driving wheel.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that we’re marooned.”
“Like pirates?” This adventure was turning out to be everything I hoped for after all.
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