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No Passengers Beyond This Point(12)

By:Gennifer Choldenko


“India?” I ask. But India ignores me. She’s busy texting Maddy. Sometimes it seems like Maddy is a computer virus that has taken over India’s brain. Although Maddy can be nice too. Last year this kid named Connor was picking on all the sixth graders, and Maddy clobbered him. She’s the only eighth-grade girl who would do that.

Mouse isn’t worried about Uncle Red’s. She’s worried about the plane flight. She is standing in the aisle asking the flight attendant questions. How many wheels does the plane have? What happens if there’s a flat tire? If you fly through a cloud and all you see is white, how does the pilot know which way to steer?

The flight attendant tells Mouse to buckle in, we are about to take off.

“If it weren’t for you I’d be at Aunt Sammy’s right now,” India growls at Mouse.

“Where would you sleep?” Mouse asks.

“In the living room.”

“Under the foosball table? Or by the lamp cord? If you’re by the lamp cord, the door will hit your head when someone comes in. And then Aunt Sammy and Uncle Tito and all our cousins will see your birthmark. I see it when you’re asleep. I always look.”

“Sleeping is private. Do not look at me while I’m sleeping!” India is practically shouting. “And keep your nose away from my birthmark.”

“It’s not that bad, India. Bing thinks it looks like a kangaroo.”

“Like I care about Bing’s opinion. Uncle Red isn’t going to want you any more than Uncle Tito did. Who wants a kid who’s going to blow up the living room?”

“I’m not going to blow up the living room!”

“Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about that kind of stuff on an airplane. We’ll be arrested,” I tell them.

“She’s the one who started it.” Mouse points at India. “And anyway, I wanted to show him because he has probably never seen a pretend volcano.”

India rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, like that’s a priority for him.”

“Look, we’re about to take off,” I say, hoping to distract them. The motor is revving up. The plane vibrates, then begins to hum as it picks up speed on the runway. With one great shudder, we’re airborne.

I like watching the airport get smaller below us and then seeing the tiny matchbook houses with swimming pools all lined up and the cars like ants moving on the crisscross of streets.

India is already tired of the window. She jams her head back against her head rest and closes her eyes. “What happens if she drives Uncle Red crazy? We’ll be homeless,” India says.

“She’s not going to drive Uncle Red crazy,” I tell her.

“Sure she is. She drives everyone crazy, except Dad because he never met her.”

“Leave Dad out of this,” I snap.

“I can talk about him whenever I want,” India says. “You don’t own him.”

“India, just shut up, okay?” I tell her.

Mouse wiggles in her seat. “We’re supposed to say our late father. Why, though? Was he late all the time?”

“Mouse, give it a rest,” India says.

“I don’t drive Bing crazy. Do I, Bing?” Mouse looks over as if he’s seated in the aisle. She pauses for his answer. “He says no.”

“Bing is made up, for the billionth time. He’s all in your head.” India snorts without opening her eyes.

“No, he’s not. He has identification and everything. Do you want to see?”

“You drew his license. That’s not real.” India plugs in her headphones.

“No, there’s something else I found when we were packing up but I’m not even going to show you,” Mouse says.

India doesn’t answer.

Mouse pulls off India’s headphones and India goes ballistic. “I don’t care. Do you hear me? I DO NOT CARE ABOUT ANYTHING YOU SAY, ANYTHING YOU SAW, ANYTHING YOU FOUND. Leave me alone!”

“Let up on her, okay? She’s not the cause of every problem you have,” I tell India.

“Yes, I am. I’m the cause of every problem she has,” Mouse says proudly.

“Mouse, don’t aggravate her.”

“Maybe I’ll have my own room. Actually, what I need is my own house,” India announces.

“I need my own basketball court,” I say.

“I need my own mouse wheel,” Mouse says.

“If we are sharing a room, you are not getting mice.” India puts her headphones back on.

Mouse organizes her markers all in a row and begins to draw. I’ve just settled in with one of the travel games my mom packed, a Rubik’s Cube, when a bell goes off and the pilot comes over the speaker system. “Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. We’ve had reports of turbulence in our flight path. Flight attendants, please secure the cabin.”