Excerpt
Just Jake: Camp Wild Survival #3
CHAPTER ONE
Peacefully awaking in a comfortable sea of pillows and blankets, I listened to the neighbor’s lawn mower humming in the background. Happy birds chirped and welcomed a new day. Rolling over to adjust my pillow’s position, I could barely make out the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock.
Hmm? 10:30 a.m.? Wow! Had I slept that long? Whoa, kind of late for a Monday. But there was no need to panic. No frenzied leaping out of bed for a quick brush-dress-eat scramble to the bus. None of that.
Why the carefree attitude? Had I transformed overnight into one of the “cool kids” who ditches school and plays Xbox in the basement all day? Nah! I was still the same old grade-conscious semi-nerd who lived for pop quizzes and book reports.
But I wasn’t going to school that day. And no, it wasn’t because of a heat wave, a teachers’ workshop, or even a catastrophic power outage.
I wasn’t sitting in a stuffy Kinney Elementary classroom because that particular Monday was the most glorious day of the year: the first day of summer vacation!
YEAAAAH! Good old summer vacay, baby!
Nothing but two and a half months of “me time” was in my immediate future. No alarms, no bus, no homework, and no crazy parents demanding to know EVERYTHING about school and homework.
It was time for kids across the country to unite in relaxation and breathe a collective sigh of relief that there would be no more Friday spelling tests or awful school lunches.
Sure, deep down, I loved school. But after almost ten months of academic stress and the pressure of chasing the honor roll, I needed to take the cerebral Ferrari back to the garage for an oil change and a new set of tires.
Summer vacation was MY time to relax, collect myself, and get reacquainted with my inner kid. And nothing says inner kid more than waking up at 10:30 a.m., pouring a giant bowl of Cap’n Crunch, parking myself on the couch, and watching SportsCenter.
(Comfy robe and bunny slippers optional.)
The best part of summer was that I usually had the house all to myself. Mom and Dad both left for work early and got home late.
My sleep-loving older sister, Alexis, UNFORTUNATELY had lacrosse practice every day at 7:00 a.m., sharp. Mom drew the short straw and was responsible for waking the temperamental tigress and rolling her into the car each morning. Soooooo sorry, Alexis. I’ll sleep a few more hours for the both of us.
AND! To make my summer even more incredible, once Alexis got home, all she had time for was a quick sandwich and a glass of milk. She had to babysit the Quinlan kids across the street, and their mom wanted her there as soon as possible.
My parents loved the fact Alexis had a job, but everyone in my house (and on my street) was shocked to hear Alexis signed up to watch our town’s four-headed monster, the Quinlan Quadruplets.
I REALLY don’t know what she was thinking. Imagine trying to watch (and control) four eight-year-old boys who LOVED fighting, biting, inflicting pain, screaming, and general mayhem.
They were cute kids . . . from a distance. But you didn’t want to get too close. The Quads were like a tornado of anarchy, breaking everything in sight and leaving behind a trail of destruction. However, this made them easy to find.
But for some reason, Barrett, Gerrett, Jerrett, and Merrett loved “Lexi! . . . Lexi! . . . Lexi! . . . Lexi!” and snapped to attention when she arrived. As soon as my sister showed up, Mrs. Quinlan’s car screeched out of the driveway.
Alexis was getting paid a ton and even received weekly “Quad Whisperer” bonuses because she was the only one who could control the four-headed beast.
So it was me, myself, and I, alone, all summer. AWESOME! But I had to be careful not to blow it. I knew fun-wrecking Dad would be keeping tabs on me. I could hear him now:
“You know, Jake, when I was your age, besides walking five miles to school, uphill, both ways, I spent all summer building forts, painting fences, and earning merit badges . . . BLAH . . . BLAH . . . BLAH! ”
Once he realized my cushy setup, he’d stop at nothing to derail my train of unsupervised fun. But I was too smart for Dad. No way was he ruining my freedom party. Dr. Phil was just starting a ten-part series on monster in-laws and the wives that hated them, and I couldn’t miss that.
But I needed a plan. And fast.
First, I had to get some academics into the equation. That would buy me time and get Mom on my side.
Then, I needed to figure out a way to make money—without leaving the house. You can’t watch TV sitting on top of the mini-fridge while you’re mowing someone’s lawn.
It didn’t help that stupid Alexis was getting up at the crack of dawn, working out, AND making crazy money across the street. Plus, everyone thought she was SO brave. Ugh! Give me a break.
Of course, like I did everything else in my life, I found the answers to my all problems online.
Thank you, Google!