4 Home Sweet Home

Chapter 4 Home Sweet Home For a minute or two, the twins knelt in the sand, catching their breath, clearing their heads, and trying to comprehend what had just happened to them. Except for a few seagulls circling overhead, the beach was empty. Nobody had seen them land. Finally, Coke looked up at the cliffs and marveled that he had jumped from such a great height and survived. "I told you we should've taken the bus," Pep said, panting. "What fun would that have been?" Coke replied, cackling. Pep unzipped her wingsuit and peeled it off. There was a Dumpster down the beach. She

crumpled the suit and parachute into a big ball and stuffed them into the Dumpster. Coke did the same. The wingsuits probably cost somebody hundreds of dollars, but neither of the twins ever wanted to see those things again. Together, Coke and Pep climbed the wooden steps leading off the beach to the main road. Looking around, they knew they were about a mile from home. "How are we gonna tell Mom and Dad about this?" Pep asked. "Are you crazy?" Coke replied. "We're not gonna say a word to Mom or Dad. You know how they worry. They would never believe it, anyway." The twins hiked away from the beach, into the hills and along the narrow road until they approached Point Reyes Station. It's a small town in the middle of a national park called Point Reyes National Seashore. Soon they could see their house. There was an RV parked in front with the words Cruise America painted on

the side. And there were two figures on the front lawn. "They're waiting for us," Pep said, groaning. And so they were. Dr. and Mrs. McDonald had been sitting there on lawn chairs for a while, fretting and looking up and down the street with binoculars. When they spotted the twins walking toward them, they jumped up to greet them. "You're late!" Dr. McDonald hollered. "Why weren't you on the school bus?" "We decided to walk home," Coke said, hoping that would end the discussion.

"Both of you are a mess!" Mrs. McDonald yelled. "What were you doing: wrestling on the beach? Is that any way to treat your school clothes?" "We were worried sick," Dr. McDonald went on. "We thought something terrible might have happened!" The twins shot glances at each other. If they only knew. "We're sorry," they said in unison. It's amazing how a simple, sincere apology will usually melt the hardest of hearts. At least temporarily. Dr. McDonald threw an arm around each of his children and pulled them close. "Anything exciting happen today?" he asked. The twins looked at each other again. "Nah," Coke said. "Same stuff, different day." "Tell us the truth," their mother said. "Were you two in detention again?" "No!" Coke replied indignantly. "Don't be ridiculous! We just, uh... jumped off the cliff

and parachuted home." "Aha-ha-ha!" Dr. McDonald chortled. "I love you kids!" "Five more minutes and we were going to call the police to report you as missing, you know," Mrs. McDonald told them. "Where are your backpacks?" Pep had no answer for that one. They had ditched their backpacks up on the cliff when that Mya lady gave them the wingsuits to wear. Pep looked at her brother, who was a much more skillful liar than she. "We left 'em at school," Coke said. "We'll get them tomorrow. There was no homework." "You should have called home," Mrs. McDonald said sternly. "Why do you think we got you cell phones?" "We... forgot," Coke said. When in doubt, "we forgot" can get you out of just about any mess you got yourself into. It may make you look like an airhead, but that's better than admitting the real reason you did the dumb

thing you did. "You'd forget your heads if they weren't screwed onto your necks," Dr. McDonald said. "Actually, Dad, our heads aren't screwed on," Coke replied. "They're attached with tendons, ligaments, muscles, that sort of thing. If heads were screwed on, it would be a simple matter to do head transplants." Dr. McDonald shook his head: Kids! He was the kind of man who was organized almost to the point of obsession. Everything in his office was tidy, efficient, labeled, and filed in alphabetical, chronological, or numerical order. He took pride in the fact that he could put his fingers on any piece of paper he needed within seconds. It was inconceivable to him why his children lacked this essential human trait. They must have inherited a scatterbrain gene from their mother, he assumed. Mrs. McDonald prepared an early dinner while the twins showered and changed their clothes upstairs. Her husband's professional life