I, Emma Freke (19 page)

She was entirely out of breath, her nostrils flaring like an enraged bull. Uncle Herman and Aunt Rose poked their heads in above and below her, both frowning.

“THAT GIRL,” Aunt Pat snarled, “is
our
responsibility, and now
you've
CORRUPTED her!!”

“Corrupted me?” I blurted out. “We were just—”

“NOT ONE WORD!” Aunt Pat hollered. “Headquarters! NOW!”

And with that, she heaved herself around and plowed through Aunt Rose and Uncle Herman practically knocking them over.

The four of us froze, unable to speak. Then Aunt Pat returned and shoved giant Uncle Herman forward all the way into the middle of the room.

“Don't just stand there,
brother
! For once in your life, DO SOMETHING!!”

And with that, she stomped off down the path.

It seemed like we were in major trouble, but Uncle Herman only stared down at his yellow rain slicker, wringing his hands, like he had no idea what to say to us.

Finally, Aunt Rose spoke up.

“Didn't you two hear the terrible storm?”

I looked at Fred, whose head was bent, his hands jammed into his pockets. He sure was different around the adults.

“Yes,” I answered for both of us. “But we weren't running around in it. We were in here.”

“Well, no one knew that!” said Aunt Rose. “A huge bolt of lightning struck, and an enormous tree branch toppled down and landed deep across your tent, Emma! The twins came running—we were all frantic! Luckily, Aunt Molly is a nurse. But then we realized you weren't even in your tent—”

Uncle Herman finally spoke, “We nearly called the police!”

“That's when Abby told us she was sure you were up here in the cabin . . . . ” Her voice trailed off as she looked around the room like she had never seen anything like it.

My brain was dizzy. What was going on? I could go wherever I wanted any time of the day back in Homeport. I realized they were upset about the branch falling, but that was an accident. It's not like I did something terrible. After all, I had told Abby where I was.

“I'm so confused,” I replied. “I just don't understand what you're all angry about. I mean, isn't it a good thing I wasn't in the tent?”

“Not really,” Fred mumbled, “because you didn't remember the rules, Emma, and you didn't follow the itinerary, which is far worse than being squished by a tree.”

His voice cracking, Uncle Herman said, “That's enough of that, young man.”

Aunt Rose covered her face. She seemed to be crying all of a sudden. What was going on?

“There, there, Ro,” said Uncle Herman as he gave her a squeeze. Since he was so much taller, her head rested against his stomach. “Everyone's safe now, dumpling.”

What a bunch of worriers these people were. If they only knew how loose Donatella was, allowing me to go wherever and whenever I wanted.

The next thing I knew, Aunt Rose yanked away from Uncle Herman and shrieked directly at Fred.

“It's NOT true!”

But Fred didn't respond. Instead, he crossed his arms and faced the wall like a little kid.

Now nothing was making sense.

Somehow I found the courage to ask, “What's not true?”

“That I want people
squished
!” she yelled. “I don't want anyone
squished
!”

“Of course, you don't!” said Uncle Herman as he wrapped his arm around Aunt Rose again. “Now, can we all calm down please? Pat is waiting, so let's just get this over with, and we'll sort it all out later.”

And like so many other times throughout that weekend, I followed . . . not knowing what in the world was going on.

We shuffled up the north path to reunion “headquarters,” which was just the little log cabin with the bright red roof where we all signed in. Aunt Pat was already sitting behind the long folding table loudly shuffling papers and looking super serious like she was presiding over a courtroom. Four chairs were lined up across from her, and we took our seats.

“Folks!” began Aunt Pat in a stern voice. Now she was tapping her stack of papers against the table making her appear even more official. “Let me begin by saying that, because of your dangerous antics,” she grumbled, pointing at Fred and me, “a bunch of
good
people missed out on a lot of
Frecky
fun this morning.”

What dangerous antics? Hanging out in a cabin? And we didn't ruin anyone's
Frecky
fun—the rain did. But more important, why was Aunt Pat in charge of everyone's life around here?

I glanced to my left at Uncle Herman, who was nodding in agreement. Aunt Rose was still sniffling and dabbing her eyes with a tissue. To my right, Fred refused to lift his head. Why were they all just sitting there?

I reached into my pocket to find the gold bead, and that's when I realized that my hands weren't trembling, which they
always
did when anyone was the least bit upset with me. Actually, I was feeling pretty mad and could sense some kind of rage stirring deep down inside of me. I had felt it before—when I would hear a group of girls talking behind my back or when the entire class seemed to snicker every time I was called on by a teacher—but never had it bubbled up like this, as if I might explode.

“Frederick Freeman
Frecky
!” Aunt Pat continued, dropping her papers and throwing her arms up in the air, “I don't know
what
to do with you anymore. I just keep wondering what Great-Granddad Boris Horace would say about all of this. And your poor parents, here, are at the end of their rope!”

Wait a minute . . . . Aunt Rose and Uncle Herman were Fred's parents? And then all at once I saw the resemblance between Fred and his mother. Why hadn't I noticed before? The darker complexion, the wider eyes, and the shorter legs. And even the ears! Hers had been covered up by her hair.

“The second someone new arrives to the family,” Aunt Pat hissed, leaning in toward Fred, “you can't leave well enough alone, can you? No, you and your bizarre invisible world have to make every effort to lead them
astray like you
!”

I couldn't believe it. Spunky, opinionated, noisy Fred just sat there, acting ashamed and studying his knees.

“WELL, MISTER?!” cried Aunt Pat. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I turned to Aunt Rose and Uncle Herman completely expecting them to stand up in some way for their son. Even my mother stuck up for me with the school board members in her own weird way. But they just sat there too, staring down. And Aunt Rose was still whimpering.

The small injection of anger I felt earlier was now spreading throughout my entire body. I found myself squeezing the arms of the chair.

“You'll never amount to anything with that attitude,
let me tell you
!” Aunt Pat continued to scold. “No one likes a loner, Fred—you have to be a team member who follows the playbook if you want to succeed in this world!”

“
Excuse me!
” I found myself practically yelling as I shot up and stared down at Aunt Pat.

All four heads swiveled in my direction at the same time.

“Can someone please explain to me what Fred and I did wrong? Because where I come from, people are allowed to make decisions for themselves.”

Did I just say that? It was as if it came straight out of Donatella's mouth!

Aunt Pat squinted up at me.

“Sit down, Emma!” she commanded.

All at once, I decided I didn't want to sit down.

“I'll stand, thank you.”

Fred was now gawking, his mouth dropped wide open.

“Believe me,” Aunt Pat rumbled, “we are well aware where
you
come from, Missy!”

I started to fade a little. “What do you mean?”

Aunt Pat blasted a “Hah!” across the room. “Your mother is—how shall I put it—” she growled, “
infamous
amongst the
Freckys
.”

I sunk down in my chair.

“Infamous?”

“When our Walter went against every member of this family and married your mother—” began Aunt Pat, but I cut her off.

“You know my father? Walter
Freak
?”

At the mention of the name Freak, they all cringed, except Fred, who was clearly enjoying this turn of events.

“Know him? I practically raised him!” she roared. “And for your information, your mother is the reason none of us have seen Walter in almost fifteen years!”

“But my mother said—”

Aunt Pat snorted. “What
your
mother said? I don't give a sharp-cheddar cheese wedge what your mother says!” Then she pointed directly at my nose. “The bottom line is, we don't and never will condone that woman's
wacky ways
.”

What was going on here? How did she know anything about my family?

“Well, what's wrong with wacky ways?” I asked. “If it makes a person happy and it doesn't hurt anyone and”— I frantically gathered up all my thoughts—“and anyway, my mother may make a lot of mistakes, but she would never tell me what to do every second of the day or how to think or who to like or judge other people just because they look different!”

The room fell silent. Aunt Pat glared at me so hard I thought her eyes would burst out of her head. I couldn't believe my own words. It turns out I really was Donatella's daughter. And now I was going to pay for it.

And then, like a cork that had finally popped, Aunt Rose shot up and jammed her hands on her hips.

“It's about time someone put you in your place, Patricia Anne
Frecky
!”

Fred stood too and raised his left arm.

“Here, here! I vote for Emma to be family tyrant!”

Aunt Pat shoved the table forward and bulleted upright. “HERMAN!! This is all your fault! You never could keep your own family under control!”

Uncle Herman groaned and rubbed the sides of his head. His voice wobbled, “But Patty—”

“But NOTHING! No more spineless excuses!” yelled Aunt Pat as she crashed through the front door to leave. Then she whipped around one last time and hollered,
“And you're all out of the will!!”

SLAM! went the screen door.

Aunt Rose rushed over to Fred and hugged him tight. Uncle Herman sighed. I was in shock. Could any of this get any weirder? And exactly what “will” was she talking about?

Per the itinerary, the entire family was off on a bird-watching expedition, except for the four of us. Aunt Pat had left strict instructions that Fred and I not participate in any “
Frecky
fun” for the rest of the day. Instead, we were to be segregated in separate quarters with his parents on guard duty. But Aunt Rose refused to punish us, even though Uncle Herman was obviously uncomfortable going against his sister's orders.

“It just seems to me, Ro—”

“You listen to me, Herman!” she cried. “Just because Pat's in charge of that horrid Boris Horace trust fund, it doesn't mean she should be allowed to rule our lives. I'm done with living on pins and needles!”

“
A trust fund?
” said Fred.

“What kind of trust fund?” I asked.

“Nothing for children to be concerned about,” muttered Uncle Herman. Then he frowned at Aunt Rose.

“So I
get
it,” said Fred as he tapped his forehead. “All these years, we've had to put up with
Frecky
this and
Frecky
that just so we can inherit some money?”

“Now son—” said Uncle Herman, but again Aunt Rose cut him off.

“Yes! That's the whole reason, Frederick!”

“But why?”

“Because it's a truckload of cash!” Uncle Herman squeaked. “And as the result of your endless shenanigans and poor academic record, my sister constantly threatens to eliminate us from Great-Granddad's will. And now it looks as if she's done it for good!”

I was still confused. “Why is Aunt Pat in charge of the family money?”

“She was Boris Horace's oldest and most favored great-grandchild,” Aunt Rose said with an air of disgust, “so he made her the legal guardian to his entire estate.”

“Now,
Ro
,” grumbled Uncle Herman, “Patty devoted herself to Great-Granddad until the day he died.”

“And she lets us know it every minute of the day!”

Fred's eyes were as big as saucers.

“Wow . . . I never knew
any
of this.”

Herman rubbed his forehead nervously.

“Well now you've done it, Ro! Why did you have to go and blurt everything to the children?”

“Because,” she said, her voice starting to quiver all over again, “our son needs our support, Herman—not endless criticism and disapproval!”

And with that, she burst into tears and ran off in the direction of their tent. Herman followed close behind.

“Oh no,” he whined, “please don't get upset all over again, dumpling.”