20 Grounded

Chapter 20 Grounded The twins had done a lot of foolish things in their lives to make their parents angry. There was the time they jumped off a trampoline with umbrellas. The time they dialed 911 to see how long it would take for the cops to show up. The time they thought it would be fun to roll down the hill near the mall in shopping carts. Coke wound up in the emergency room after that one. But they had never done anything as foolish, dangerous, and yes, let's say it—stupid—as going on a joyride in a recreational vehicle. "Are you kids out of your minds?" Mrs. McDonald shouted when Coke pulled the RV back into the parking spot. "Do you have one brain between the two of you? What were you

thinking? We could all be in jail right now! You said you were going to look for souvenirs! Where were you? We thought the RV had been stolen!" Veins were sticking out of Mrs. McDonald's neck. People were starting to stare. It was causing a scene on the street. "Oh, don't worry," Dr. McDonald assured the gathering crowd. "This isn't child abuse, folks. My kids just went out for a little ride... in our rented RV! They turn thirteen years old the day after tomorrow. I guess they think they're old enough to drive now." "Can't blame you for screaming at 'em, pal," a guy walking by said. "If they were my kids, I'd ship 'em off to military school." "We're really sorry, Dad," Pep said sincerely as she scampered into the backseat where she belonged. "We'll never do it again." "Why did you do it this time?" asked her mother. "Do you have an explanation? I'd like to hear it."

Pep looked at her brother, who was slinking out of the driver's seat. "Uh, we went to do a dump," Coke said. It was the truth, technically. "You went to do a dump!?" Dr. McDonald was incredulous. "That was the job you gave me," Coke reminded him. "The holding tank was really full, Dad. I promised I would do a dump today, and I felt bad that I forgot to do it yesterday. I always keep my promises, y'know." Dr. McDonald was too upset to speak. He slapped his forehead and walked around in a circle on the sidewalk trying to regain his composure. "Who said you could drive?" asked Mrs. McDonald. "You're always telling us that we should take the initiative," Coke said lamely. "You're minors!" Dr. McDonald said, exploding. "It's against the law for you to drive a motor vehicle! You could have been arrested!

Mom and I could have been arrested! The police would say we're neglecting our kids! Did you ever think of that?" "Calm down, Dad," Coke said. "You'll give yourself a coronary. Everything's fine. We did the dump. The RV doesn't have a scratch on it, and nobody got hurt. So what's the big deal?" Dr. McDonald climbed into the driver's seat mumbling "It's a rental!" and how this sort of thing never happened when he was a kid. He drove out of Darwin aggressively, stomping on the gas pedal at every green light and stomping on the brake when the lights turned red. It was the only way he could express his anger. They drove in silence for several miles until Coke worked up the courage to speak. "May I ask one question, Dad?" "What is it?" Dr. McDonald said sharply. "When we're at home and you ground us, we have to stay in the house. I understand that. But how do you ground us when we're in an RV?" Pep rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she wished,

her brother should just keep his mouth shut. "I'll tell you how," Dr. McDonald replied. "Your mother and I are going out to a nice dinner and a movie tonight... alone. You two are going to stay at the campground and think about what you did." "Fair enough," Coke said sheepishly. I don't know if you've ever stayed at an RV campground. Some of them are fully equipped with game rooms, stores, Ping-Pong tables, swimming pools, basketball courts, WiFi, and videos. Others just have an electrical hookup for your RV, a septic tank (so you can do a dump), and pretty much nothing else. Mrs. McDonald purposely found a campground for the night that had no amenities. The place was basically a big parking lot with an office. After he checked in, Dr. McDonald told the twins to get out of the RV. "We'll be at the movies," he said. "See if you can make it through the next few hours without getting into trouble."

With that, Dr. and Mrs. McDonald drove away. "What do you wanna do?" Pep asked. "I don't know. What do you wanna do?" her brother replied. "I asked you first." There wasn't a whole lot to do. The twins put their backpacks on the nearest picnic table. Coke took out the Frisbee and flipped it casually to his sister. Then he ran about ten yards out into the parking lot. "Do you think what we did was wrong?" Pep asked as she flipped the Frisbee back to him. "Mrs. Higgins tried to kill us!" Coke said. "All we did was do a dump on her head." "No," Pep said, catching his return throw. "I mean, was it wrong to drive the RV?" "Oh," Coke replied. "Well, yeah, that was wrong. But it was right to do the dump on Mrs. Higgins's head, because it prevented her from blowing up the ball of twine. And how could we