Farah Rocks Summer Break
Page 6
Because I made a down payment, a package arrives for me in the mail one day. It’s a welcome letter, plus a cool red T-shirt that says Camp Crystals.
Baba really likes the SUV. So do Samir and Mama. And I definitely love it. It’s way cooler than our old car. If Mama drove me and Samir somewhere in our old car, and we also brought a friend, the three of us would be squeezed like sardines in the back seat.
The SUV can fit seven people. Plus, it’s red.
One night I hear Mama and Baba discussing how much they can spend. “We have twelve hundred dollars, maybe,” Mama says. I hear a computer clicking, and I know she is looking at their bank account online.
“Okay, I will ask him what he would like for it,” Baba says in Arabic. “I can’t wait longer. He’s given it to us for a week and didn’t press me.”
“He’s too generous,” Mama says as Baba dials Dr. Sharif’s number.
I listen to them talk and overhear that Dr. Sharif wants two thousand dollars.
“I will think about it and let you know,” Baba says into the phone.
He hangs up and turns to Mama. “I guess we cannot do it.”
That night, he drives the car back to Dr. Sharif.
Sitting on the front steps polishing my rocks, I watch Baba round the corner and back up our street.
And I realize that he was too proud to accept a ride home from Dr. Sharif. He walked home instead.
CHAPTER 15
“How will your family get around without a car?” Allie asks me the next day.
I shrug. We are walking to the labyrinth together. I have a half hour before a tutoring session at the library. Allie wanted to come so she could check out some books. She plans to find some on the topics we’ll be covering at Camp Crystals. We are both wearing the red shirts we received in the mail.
“My dad will take the bus, I guess,” I say. “Samir takes a bus to school. And Mama can literally walk to work.”
She sighs. “It won’t be forever, right? Just until they can save enough to buy a car.”
Allie is right. It’s exactly what Mama told me and Samir last night. Dr. Sharif’s car is not the last car on Earth.
The mechanic is still waiting on our decision. We can save enough to fix the old car. Otherwise we will save enough to buy another car.
“But his cah was awesome,” Samir wailed. “The best one.”
Mama shrugged and smiled. “Samir,” she said, “if we don’t get something we want, it might mean something better is coming. Think of it that way.”
As Allie and I wind our way through the stone labyrinth, my mind does the same thing.
What if there isn’t another car? What if there isn’t a better deal? What if we are meant to have Dr. Sharif’s car? What if the only thing stopping us is money? I follow the curve of the labyrinth as I think.
I think about the night I overheard my parents praising me. They were so proud of me for earning money all summer.
I think about how unfair things can be for me. But also how unfair it is for them. It would be really unfair if Baba had to get up even earlier every day to take the bus. It would also be unfair if Mama had to walk to work every day.
At the same moment I reach the inner part of the labyrinth, I think about this: I am a part of this family. I’m not a little kid. I am eleven years old. I know how to solve problems.
And I am about to solve this one too.
“Allie,” I tell my Official Best Friend. “I’m sorry. I won’t be going to Camp Crystals with you.”
• • •
Mama and Baba both say no at the same time.
We are at home, in the kitchen. I have placed the money I’ve earned in front of them.
Mama refuses to touch it. So does Baba.
“This is your money!” Mama says. She looks almost angry. “How could you think we would take it from you?”
“I want you to have it,” I say. “It’s the best way. I’ll get my down payment back. Add it to what you have. Then we will have enough for Dr. Sharif’s car.”
“We don’t need this,” Baba says. He looks even angrier than Mama. “This is a broblem for me and your mother to fix.” He picks up the stack of bills. Then he stuffs them into the large front pocket on my T-shirt.
“I don’t want to go to camp,” I say.
“Farah!” they say at the same time.
“I really don’t,” I insist.
Baba walks up and glares down at me. We are locked in a staring contest for a second. Then he suddenly grins. He scoops me off my feet in a big bear hug.
“You are the sweetest daughter in the uniberse,” he says. He kisses my cheek. “Thank you for being so good.”
“You’re welcome!” I say. He sets me down on my feet. I look at Mama, whose face is shining and whose eyes are bright with tears.
I remove the money from my pocket and put it back on the counter. “I’ll send an email to Ms. Loft. I’ll ask for the down payment back. And I’ll offer to pay for the T-shirt.”
I smile and turn to leave the kitchen.
“Farah,” Mama calls softly.
I glance back. She is holding my stack of money out to me.
I look at her, then at Baba.
“You are going to camb,” Baba says. “And that is the end of the story.”
CHAPTER 16
When I say that I am not going to camp, here’s what I mean: I am not going to camp. I’m not sure why my parents don’t listen to me.
I’m standing in Ms. Loft’s office right now.
I called the school earlier. They told me she worked every morning until noon in the summer. I hand her the T-shirt and say, “I can’t go to Camp Crystals this summer after all.”
She looks so shocked. I feel bad.
“But Farah, you said you were able to raise the money you needed,” she says.
“I know. But my parents’ car broke down. It’s going to cost three thousand dollars to fix. Or they could buy a new car. Well, not a new-new car, but newer than what we have. Anyway, they could buy that for only two thousand.” I pause to take a breath. “So, that’s why. I can’t go to camp and have fun when my parents are worried about a car.”
She does what my parents do. She tries to talk me out of it.
But I hand her the shirt. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m really fine. I don’t want to go anyway.”
She gives me the same look Baba gave me in the kitchen last night. The look that says, I don’t believe a word you just said. But all she says is, “Keep the shirt, Farah.”
I thank her. Before I leave, I decide to add one more thing. It’s a thought that kept me up pretty late last night, tossing in my bed. “To tell you the truth,” I say, “I think if a camp is going to charge a thousand dollars for a week, then they don’t really want kids like me there anyway.”
She looks at me, shocked. “Oh, Farah—”
“I love anything to do with rocks and crystals. I have grades good enough to get into the Magnet Academy in the first place. But I can’t go to this camp because it’s too much money. So they’re basically saying, ‘This is not a camp for kids who deserve it. This is a camp for kids who have money.’” I shrug. Then I put the red shirt on her desk. “I don’t really want this shirt. I hope someone else gets the scholarship money. Have a nice day.”
“I’m sorry, Farah Rocks,” she says.
“It’s fine!” I say brightly. “I’ve already forgotten it.”
As I walk home, I let myself cry.
• • •
That night, I tell my parents what I did.
“Mama,” I say. “Baba.”
They must hear how serious my voice is because they shut off the TV and give me their attention.
“I told Ms. Loft I won’t be going to camp,” I say. “So you can just take the money I earned tutoring. You can use
it to buy the car.”
They both sit bolt upright on the couch.
I hold out my hands. “It’s too late. Don’t try to change it. She already removed me. And I’m pretty sure there’s a waiting list. Another student will take my place.”
Baba looks horrified. “How could you do this?” His face has turned red. “Why would you do this? This is our job, not yours.”
“I want to help,” I say quietly.
“Farah, we talked about this when that awful girl was bullying your brother,” Mama says firmly. “You kept trying to fix problems on your own when you should have come to us. Now you’re doing it again.”
“It’s just camp!” I say. “It’s not like I’m going to starve to death or have to drop out of school.”
“A camb you really wanted to attend,” Baba says softly.
“Well, like I told you,” I say, “I’m not attending. And that’s that.”
The phone rings. Mama answers it. Looking surprised, she hands it to me. “Lana,” she whispers.
“Hello?” I say.
Mama and Baba huddle around me. They’re acting like such curious goofballs I almost want to laugh.
“Look, I’m sorry for taking down your flyers. Okay?” Lana says, sounding irritated. “My mom said I have to call you.”
“You admitted it to her?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “I got caught.”
“How?”
She exhales angrily. I imagine she’s a fire-breathing dragon, with smoke pouring out of her nose. It almost makes me giggle. “One of the librarians saw me. She called my mom. Now I’m banned from there for the rest of the summer.”
“Holy hummus!”
“Really?” She sighs. “You’re still saying the hummus thing?”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“Whatever,” she says. “Well, anyway. Sorry again. I won’t be taking down your flyers anymore.”
“Okay.” I almost want to tell her it doesn’t matter any longer. “Thanks, Lana.”
CHAPTER 17
Camp is supposed to start on Monday. Allie is heartbroken I’m not attending. She’s promised to update me on every single thing they learn.
On Sunday night, Mama makes our big dinner. Tonight it’s musakhan, which is chicken with pine nuts and sumac spices. It’s so good that I eat three large pieces. Samir finishes two.
“Let’s make sure we all get to bed early tonight,” Mama says.
“It’s summertime,” I say. “We’re allowed to stay up late in the summer.”
That’s when I hear a car pulling into our driveway.
“Who’s here?” I ask.
“Let’s go see,” Baba says.
We all hurry to the door.
It’s Dr. Sharif. He’s waving a set of car keys. “Here you go!” he says. He hands the keys to Mama. “Mabrouk!”
“Allah yebarek feek,” Mama and Baba say together.
“It’s really ours?” I almost shriek. I’m so happy.
We spend a long time in the car, as if we’ve never seen it before. As if we didn’t spend a whole week driving in it.
I claim the back seat, behind the driver. There is a cool centerpiece that folds down. The centerpiece has two cup holders, which Samir and I think is super fancy.
The car smells great too, and it sparkles. Dr. Sharif says he took it to a garage where they detailed it. “That means they cleaned it really, really good. Make it like new,” he explains.
“Let’s keep driving around,” I suggest after we drop off Dr. Sharif at his home.
“Not tonight,” Mama says, laughing. “Besides, you rode around in it all week.”
“I know, but it wasn’t ours then!” I reply.
“True, but you need to get to bed soon,” says Mama.
“It’s summer!” I say.
“But you have a big day tomorrow, Farah,” Baba says.
“What are you talking about?”
“Farah! I forgot to mention it,” Mama says. She tilts her head and gazes back at me. “You’re going to Camp Crystals.”
• • •
When I wake up the next morning, there is a shirt lying on the chair in my room. My red Camp Crystals shirt.
Baba drives me to camp and explains everything to me. “You are not allowed to give up something so imbortant,” he says, “even though I know you were being bery mature and bery resbonsible.”
“But how did you pay for the camp?” I ask. “The money was used to buy the car, right?”
He shakes his head. “No. The mechanic agreed to give us money for our old car. He is going to chob it ub for barts.”
“Chop it up?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes, they take it abart and use bieces of it for fixing other cars. All we owe Dr. Sharif is a few hundred dollars. He agreed that we could bay him that over the next few months.”
“You could have just taken the money I made,” I say. In a weird way, I feel hurt that they didn’t want my help.
“Or you could just attend the camb since you worked hard for it.”
“But I didn’t have enough anyway,” I say. “That’s why I’m so confused.”
He tells me that Ms. Loft called him. She explained that the PTA had decided to increase their scholarships to students. Instead of four hundred dollars, they would now pay six hundred. “Farah helped me see that the price tag is like a big KEEP OUT sign,” she told Baba. She explained to the PTA that kids might feel unwanted at camp because the price was too high.
“So I have enough?” I ask when Baba is done explaining.
“You even have some sbending money left over,” he says.
Camp Crystals is being held in the Science Building at the Magnet Academy. We pull up to the sidewalk. There are camp counselors there, wearing red T-shirts and holding clipboards.
A big sign behind them reads:
I open the car door. A young woman says to me, “Hey! Welcome to camp!”
“Thanks!” I say, climbing out. I pull my backpack over my shoulder. “I’m excited to be here.”
“What’s your name?” she asks, looking at her clipboard.
“Farah Hajjar.”
She smiles even wider. “You’re Farah Rocks. We’ve heard all about you!”
Baba laughs in the car. He blows me a kiss. “Enjoy it, habibti!”
TO: Enrique LeBrand (hurricanesfan1@harbormail.com)
FROM: Farah Hajjar (farahrocks@harbormail.com)
SUBJECT: Update from home!
Hey Enrique,
I hope you are having a blast in Puerto Rico! I wanted to tell you that I made enough money to get to Camp Crystals! Thanks for telling your aunt to hire me as a tutor. And for encouraging me in the first place.
Camp has been so much fun. Allie and I made notes on all the experiments so that you can do them too.
Did you remember to get me some rocks from Puerto Rico?
I grew you some crystals, right here in Harbortown. They’ll be waiting for you!
See you soon!
Farah Rocks
How to Grow Crystals
At Camp Crystals, Farah and Allie learned how to grow their own crystals. Try it yourself!
You’ll be using magnesium sulfate, which is sold in stores as Epsom salt. It’s safe to use, so you may only need an adult to help you with getting some hot water.
What You Need:
½ cup water
glass bowl
microwave
¼ cup Epsom salt (magnesium sulfate)
food coloring
What You Do:
Pour the water in the glass bowl.
Put it in the microwave for one minute on high so that it boils. Let an adult help you remove it carefully.
In the bowl, stir in
the Epsom salt until the salt will no longer dissolve. It’s okay if you have some undissolved particles at the bottom.
Add a couple drops of food coloring if you want your crystals to be colored.
Put the bowl in the refrigerator. In a few hours, you should see your solution has generated lots of crystals!
You can also put your bowl in a sunny window and watch crystals form as the water evaporates.
Glossary
accent (AK-sent)—
a way of pronouncing words, shared by people of a particular region
badminton (BAD-min-tuhn)—
a game in which players use rackets to hit a shuttlecock back and forth over a net
cerebral palsy (seh-REE-bruhl PALL-see)—
a condition that is caused by damage to the brain around the time of birth
client (KLYE-uhnt)—
a customer
Cyclops (SYE-clops)—
a giant in Greek mythology with a single eye in the middle of the forehead
down payment (DOUN PAY-mint)—
a part of a price paid when something is bought, with an agreement to pay the rest later
negotiate (ni-GOH-shee-ate)—
to try to reach an agreement by discussing something
occupational therapy (ahk-yuh-PAY-shuhn-uhl THER-uh-pee)—
treatment that helps people with physical or mental problems learn to do the activities of daily life
pandero (pan-DAIR-oh)—
a kind of tambourine common in Spain, Latin America, and the Spanish-speaking Caribbean
racket (RAK-it)—
a dishonest scheme or business activity
reference (REF-ur-uhns)—
a statement about someone’s personal abilities or qualities
sabotage (SAB-uh-tahzh)—
the deliberate damage of property, especially to stop something
scholarship (SKAH-lur-ship)—
money given to pay for a student to follow a course of study