by Linda Urban
“It is seven o’clock,” said Mom.
“Okay,” said Max. “But that wasn’t my question.”
“Oh,” said Mom. “I’m sorry. What’s your question?”
“Why didn’t the skeleton ride the roller coaster?”
Max thought he saw the corners of Mom’s mouth twitch. “I don’t know, Max. Why didn’t the skeleton ride the roller coaster?”
“Because he didn’t have the guts.”
Mom smiled. “Good one.” Her voice was a little less sharp than before.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes, Max?”
“Why didn’t the rooster go on the roller coaster?”
“Tell me.”
“Because he was a chicken.”
Mom smiled wider.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes, Max?”
“Why didn’t the magician take his hat off on the roller coaster?”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t want to get his hare messed up. Get it? Hair? Hare? Like a rabbit.”
This time Mom laughed. “I get it,” she said.
The car was completely crackle-free, but Max had a few more jokes to tell.
“Why didn’t the octopus go on the roller coaster? Because he was spineless! Why didn’t the clock go on the roller coaster?”
“Let me guess …” said Mom. “Because he was out of time?”
“Because he was alarmed!” said Max. Then he thought of another one. “Hey, Mom? Why didn’t the polar explorer go on the roller coaster? Because he got cold feet!”
Mom turned off the windshield wipers. The sky was nearly blue. “Hey, Max?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“How did the kid in the back seat get to be so good at road trips?”
“I don’t know,” said Max.
“I don’t know either, but I’m glad he did.” Mom reached over the back of the seat and put out her hand. Max held it. “You are a sweet kid.” Mom squeezed his hand. “But right now, I’m looking for a hot dog.” Max gave Mom a hot dog. “Thanks, champ—no, wait. I know. You’re not a champ; you’re an explorer. An awesome explorer.”
“And you are an awesome champion,” said Max.
“Thanks,” said Mom.
Mom kept driving. They played games and sang songs and thought thoughts. Slowly, the sky slipped from light blue to medium blue to soft almost-dark.
Chapter
One
“Max?” said Mom. “Where are all your clothes?”
Max opened one eye. It was morning. He was in a motel room in a cushy bed with cozy blankets. Rats! He had planned to spend the night on the floor for more hardship.
“Did I fall asleep in the car?” asked Max.
“You were so sleepy, you crawled into bed without changing into pajamas. Did you know your shoes were on the wrong feet?”
“Explorers have hardships and deprivations,” said Max.
“Too bad they don’t have clean shirts,” said Mom. Max’s suitcase was open on Mom’s bed, and his explorer gear was spread out around it. “What happened to all the clothes on the list I gave you?”
“Explorers make sacrifices,” said Max.
“I see,” said Mom. “I’m not sure I’d have sacrificed clean socks to make space for a collapsible fishing pole.”
“That’s the difference between explorers and moms,” said Max.
“That, and moms have something to wear today,” said Mom. That was when Max noticed.
Mom was not wearing the jeans and sneakers she wore at home. She was not wearing the nurse clothes and soft white shoes she wore to work at Shady Acres, either. What Mom was wearing was a pink skirt Max had never seen before and shoes that showed her toes. Her toes had pink polish on them. Did they always have pink polish on them? Max wondered. The biggest wonder of all was what had happened to her hair. Mom’s sproingy curls were gone! Her hair was smooth and swoopy and the ends seemed sharp.
“How do I look?” asked Mom.
“You look pink,” said Max, which was not exactly what he was thinking. What he was exactly thinking was that Mom did not look like Mom at all.
But she still sounded like Mom. “And you look like a boy who slept in his clothes.”
Max had not slept in all of his clothes. On Mom’s bed was his jacket with all the pockets. Max filled the pockets with all the explorer things that would fit and zipped them shut.
“An explorer is always prepared,” said Max.
While Mom drove to Bronco Burt’s, Max flipped through the pages of The Spine-Tingling Book until he reached his favorite photo. In it, Ernest Shackleton stood in the polar snow, his foot up on an ice chunk. He looked tall and brave and awesome. Under the picture was the Shackleton family motto: By Endurance We Conquer.
There was another guy in the photo too, hunching in the whippy white snow. He did not look tall or brave or awesome. He looked like a guy whose family motto might be Let’s Go Home and Eat Soup.
“Hey, Mom?” said Max. “Do we have a family motto?”
“How about If There Is Bad Traffic Around, We Will Find It.”
Max knew this was supposed to be a joke. He laughed a little so Mom would not feel bad. “But really, do we have a family motto?” he asked again.
“I don’t know,” said Mom. “But a family reunion is a great place to find out.”
Max had almost forgotten they were headed to a family reunion, mostly because he had been thinking about being an explorer and second mostly because he had been thinking about riding rides and playing games and snacking on snacks. Besides, Grandma was the only Pennsylvania family he really knew, and she was staying in Florida until the summer. How could he reunion with the people in his family if he didn’t even remember unioning in the first place?
“Are you sure I’ve met Great-Great-Aunt Victory before?” asked Max.
“I showed you the picture, remember? The one that made my uncles call you Spooner?” Max did remember seeing the picture. He just didn’t remember the uncles.
“Don’t worry. Our Pennsylvania family is very nice, and they will be very happy to see you again.”
Max watched as Mom smoothed her hair. She smoothed it again when they parked in the Bronco Burt’s lot. She put on pink lipstick, too. When she saw Max watching, she said, “Explorers aren’t the only ones who get prepared.”
Max guessed not. But he was glad explorer preparing did not include putting on lipstick.
Chapter
Two
Bronco Burt’s Wild Ride Amusement Park was amazing! As soon as they walked through the gate, Max saw spinny rides and bumpy rides and rides that rattled and rolled. He smelled sweet things and salty things and things that he knew had been fried and rolled in cinnamon. Everywhere he looked, there was something new to explore.
“Look!” Mom pointed high above a line of trees. “The Big Buckaroo!” Blue steel tracks rose like a mountain and then fell into a double loop-de-loop. Max watched as a coaster car climbed the highest peak, paused, then dove and looped, dove and looped. The people on the car screamed wild, happy screams.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” Max started to run, but Mom did not. She pulled a piece of paper from her skirt pocket.
“Cousin Merit sent instructions. We’re supposed to head straight to the Okey Doke Corral for the Family Meet-and-Greet.”
“Then we’ll go on the Big Buckaroo?” asked Max.
Mom checked the paper. “Then we’ll get a schedule of reunion events,” she said. “But don’t worry, pal. You’ll ride that coaster, one way or the other.”
Max did not think the Okey Doke Corral looked much like a corral. There weren’t any horses or guys having Wild West shootouts. Mostly, there was grass and picnic tables and a tall white tent with a banner that said HAPPY 100TH, VICTORY! Some of the picnic tables had banners too. They said things like SCRAPBOOK STATION and HATCHECK and FAMILY TREE. Everywhere Max looked, there were people in cowboy hats.
Mom looked at her instructions a
gain. “I’m supposed to sign in at the hatcheck table, but you can explore a little if you want. Just don’t go too far.”
Exploring sounded good. Max unzipped one of his pockets and took out his magnifying glass. He didn’t really need it in order to see the tall, tall mountain of the Big Buckaroo, but it was fun to look through. Another coaster car had climbed to the peak. Max could almost make out the people on the ride. He wondered if any of them were looking back at him.
“Excuse me.” Max felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around. Through his magnifying glass, he saw a girl who looked like she had an enormous chin, but when he put the glass down, her chin turned out to be regular-size after all. She was wearing a cowboy hat and a T-shirt that said PICKLER’S AUTO PARTS. “Excuse me,” she said again. “I’m looking for all the Picklers. Are you a Pickler?”
“No,” said Max. “I’m an explorer.”
“Weird,” said the girl. “Hey, Dad!” she shouted to a man standing behind the Family Tree table. He had on the same T-shirt as the girl, but in a bigger size. “This kid says he’s an Explorer!”
“Weird,” said the man. He waved Max over. “Your name is Explorer?”
Max shook his head. “My name is Max. I am an explorer. It’s, like, my job.”
“Wow,” said the girl.
“Nice to meet you, Max,” said the man. “What’s your last name?”
“LeRoy,” said Max.
“LeRoy … LeRoy … I saw a LeRoy …” The man ran his hand across a long white paper that covered the entire picnic table. On it were dozens of tiny names with thin black lines connecting one to another. “Le … Roy …”
“I’m a Pickler,” said the girl. She pointed to a name on the paper. Max used his magnifying glass to read it: Constance Pickler. “You can call me Connie.” Connie pointed to two other names. “That’s my older brother Royal Pickler and my older older brother, Frank Pickler Jr. And these”—she traced a thin black line to two other names—“are my parents, Miranda Pickler and Frank Pickler Sr.”
“LeRoy!” said Frank Sr. “There! Max LeRoy. Is that you?”
Max looked at the place where Frank Sr. was pointing. There was his name: Max LeRoy.
A thin black line connected his name to one Max had never seen before: Amiable Pickler.
“Is that your mom or your dad?” asked Connie.
Max looked at the name again. It did not belong to his mom or his dad. Could there be two Max LeRoys on this family tree?
“There you are, Max.” Max turned around. Mom had two cowboy hats. She set one on Max’s head, then smoothed her hair and put on the other. “Reunion rule: Everyone must wear hats. That way we know who is family and who is not.”
“Are you Amiable?” Connie asked Mom.
“Only after I’ve had my coffee.”
Max could tell Mom was joking, but even if he had understood the joke, he would not have laughed. He was too busy being surprised. As long as Max had known Mom, she had been Amy LeRoy. That was how she signed permission slips. That was how she had introduced herself to Mrs. Maloof on the first day of school. Max had never heard Mom call herself Amiable. And he had never not heard her call herself a LeRoy. Max was a LeRoy. Dad was a LeRoy. LeRoy was how people knew who Max’s family was, even if they weren’t all wearing the same hat.
“Amy? Is that you?” Another man rushed up to the table.
“Cousin Merit!” Suddenly, Mom was surrounded by cowboy-hatted people.
“And this must be Spooner!” said Cousin Merit.
Max wanted to say it must not be, but he didn’t. “I’m Max,” he said.
“He’s an explorer,” explained Connie.
Cowboy-hatted people surrounded Max, too. There was a lot of hugging and shaking hands and cheek-kissing.
“Ugh,” said Max.
“Double ugh,” said Connie. “Let’s get out of here. My dad said my brothers and I could go on the rides for a while. You guys want to come?”
Max escaped another cheek kiss and nodded. He tugged on Mom’s arm. “Let’s go,” he said.
Mom’s face looked like it sometimes did when Dad came to pick Max up for the weekend. Sort of sad, but sort of business-y. “I asked at the hatcheck if we had a family motto. The woman there said it was probably If It Isn’t on the Schedule, It Doesn’t Exist.”
Mom showed Max a piece of paper with the words REUNION SCHEDULE at the top. The whole day was planned out to the minute. There were times for family stories and times for taking photos and times for doing crafts and times for singing songs. Max did not see any times written down for riding rides or going to the arcade or looping the loop of the Big Buckaroo.
“Sorry, pal,” Mom said. “I’m stuck.”
“Max could come with us,” said Connie. “He can be an honorary Pickler.”
“What do you think?” asked Mom.
What Max thought was that he did not want to be a Pickler, even if it was honorary. But he did want to go on the rides. He wished Mom could go too. “Don’t you want to ride the Big Buckaroo?” asked Max.
“Explorers aren’t the only ones who have to make sacrifices,” said Mom. “You go and have fun. Be back by noon, okay?” She showed Max and Connie the NOON line on the Reunion Schedule. Next to it, it said BIRTHDAY CAKE.
“Double okay!” said Connie. She grabbed Max’s arm, and they were off and running before Max could even say goodbye.
Chapter
Three
“This is our cousin Max,” Connie told her brothers. They were wearing cowboy hats too, and the same auto parts T-shirt as Connie and her dad. “Max is an explorer. It’s his job.”
“I wish I had a job,” said Royal. “Frank Jr. is a paperboy, but Connie and I are nothing.”
Max thought about that. Shackleton explored with a whole crew. If Max was going to explore Bronco Burt’s with his cousins, they should have jobs too.
Max handed Royal a map that he and Mom had picked up at the park entrance. “You can be the navigator. When I name a destination, you will tell us how to get there.”
“Cool,” said Royal. “I’m good at telling people where to go.”
Max unzipped another pocket, pulled out his explorer camera, and gave it to Frank Jr. “And you can be our photographer. You can document our expedition.”
“Double cool,” said Frank Jr. “I’m good at documenting.”
“What can I be?” asked Connie.
“You can be the first mate,” said Max. “That’s the next-to-the-top guy. If ever I can’t lead, you have to take over.”
“I’m good at taking over,” said Connie.
“Triple cool,” said Max, because it was triple cool. Not only was Max an explorer; now he had a crew!
“Where to first?” asked Royal.
Max looked out at the park. There was so much to do! The arcade. The snacks. The rides. In the distance, Max could see the tracks of the Big Buckaroo climbing up, up, up like Shackleton’s ice mountain. He saw the coaster dive and loop. Dive and loop. He heard the wild, happy screams.
Max’s spine tingled. He stood tall and brave and awesome. If there had been an ice chunk around, he would have put his foot up on it. “Our final destination will be the summit.” He pointed at the Big Buckaroo. “But first, we will accomplish many feats and make many daring discoveries. There will probably be hardships and deprivations, too. Are you prepared?”
“We are prepared,” said the cousins in very crew-like voices.
“First stop, the Twister.” Max had noticed the Twister when he and Mom entered Bronco Burt’s. It had up-and-down arms and round-and-round cars and a floor that tilted like a spinny top. Max had never been on a ride like it. Maybe it could count as a daring discovery?
Royal studied the map. “The Twister. Two lefts, then a right at High Noon Hot Dogs,” he said.
Max and his crew quick-walked to the Twister. “Excellent navigating,” said Max.
“Thank you,” said Royal.
Frank Jr. snapped a photo.
“Excellent documenting,” said Max.
“Thank you,” said Frank Jr.
The Twister operator opened the gate to the ride.
“Follow me,” said Max. He led them to the car that looked the spinniest, and they all piled inside.
“I did excellent following,” said Connie.
“Yes, you did,” said Max.
“Thank you,” said Connie.
The Twister took off. Max was right. Their car was the spinniest. And the fastest. And the most awesome.
“That was great!” said Connie. “What’s next, Fearless Leader?”
Fearless Leader? The Spine-Tingling Book did not say that Shackleton got called Fearless Leader, but Max liked it anyway. It made him feel tall. “The Dizzy Dust Bowl,” said Max.
“This way,” said Royal.
All morning long, Max led fearlessly. He and his crew rode spinny rides and bumpy rides and rides that rocked and rolled. They played games at the arcade and ate snacks at the snack bars. Royal navigated. Frank Jr. documented. Connie did her best not to take over, but Max could tell it was not easy.
“What time is it?” asked Connie.
Max looked up. The sun was almost directly overhead. “My explorer skills tell me it is almost noon,” said Max.
“So does my watch,” said Royal.
“Next stop, the Big Buckaroo!” said Connie.
“I think the Fearless Leader is supposed to say that,” said Frank Jr.
“I know,” said Connie. “But I’m right, right?”
“Right,” said Max. “To the Big Buckaroo!”
Royal navigated. Frank Jr. snapped. Connie followed.
Max led, keeping his eye on the Big Buckaroo. With every step, the coaster grew taller. And faster. And loopier. The screams of the riders sounded less and less like wild, happy screams and more like plain old screams.
By the time they reached the HOLD IT, PARDNER! sign, Max did not feel fearless at all. An oatmealy lump had formed in his throat.
“Time to measure up,” said the roller coaster man. Frank Jr. stood in front of the painted horse, just like Mom had in her scrapbook photo. He was plenty tall. Royal was plenty tall too. Connie stood on her tiptoes, but the roller coaster man didn’t notice.
