“No, No, NO!” Lucy screamed, clapping her ears shut.

Her mother pulled Lucy’s hands down and held them tightly.

“Sweetheart, please try to understand,” she said. “It’s the perfect opportunity for me to spend a few weeks with Kurt. He called just a little while ago and I had to give him an answer right away.”

“But what about our summer vacation? You said we were going to California. You promised!”

“We can go to America some other time, Lucy, and we will. But Kurt would never understand if I turned down this chance to be with him on the ship. It’s such a lucky break that a cabin opened up at the last minute.”

Lucy’s gaze bored a hole through the wall behind her mother. Through it, she could see California. The blue, cold Pacific. Wide beaches. The hilly streets of San Francisco. And the winery of Mama’s friends where they’d planned to spend two weeks. A big, old, white mansion with pillars and a wrap-around porch. And for Lucy, a room of her own, with a balcony. Lucy sighed.

“I was really, really looking forward to it, Mama.”

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“Why can’t I go on the ship, too?”

“I’ve already told you: it’s a research vessel. Kurt and the other scientists will be working there. They only have a few cabins for visitors. Children aren’t allowed on board. And besides, it would be boring for you.”

“But–”

“It’s just not possible, Lucy. End of discussion. I don’t want to hear another word about it. Be reasonable about this, all right? Otherwise Mama will get a headache.”

Lucy said nothing. Sometimes she wished she could get headaches, too.

Tacked over Lucy’s bed was a map of the world. She’d drawn the flight route with a red jumbo marker. From Düsseldorf over the Atlantic, straight across America to San Francisco. Lucy took the thumbtacks out of the wall. She folded up the map and cut it into tiny pieces, letting them fall into the wastepaper basket. 

“Bye-bye, California,” she murmured.

“I’m going over to Kora’s for a while, Mama.”

“That’s fine, honey,” her mother called from the living room. “Take the umbrella. It looks like it could rain.”

“Mmh,” Lucy answered. So what? Then she’d just get wet. It hadn’t been much of a summer so far. Chilly and wet. In California, no doubt, the sun was shining. Every single day.

“What?! You’re not going to America? I don’t believe it!” Kora’s eyes were wide. “Aren’t you mad? I would be so mad.”

“Ohh...” Lucy grabbed some potato chips out of the giant bag propped between Kora and her on the sofa. “Mad? I don’t know. I just feel empty. Like a busted balloon.”

“I’d be mad,” said Kora.

They kept reaching into the bag, snarfing down chips. Outside, the first drops of a heavy rain shower hit the window pane.

“I didn’t bring an umbrella with me,” said Lucy.

“Stay here. So now what are you going to do when school’s out?”

“What?”

“You’re not going to be flying off to the Wild West by yourself, are you?”

“Oh,” Lucy said. “No idea. I don’t know what I’m doing now.”

The two friends looked at each other in silence.

“She just forgot to tell you,” Kora finally said. “Right? Yeah, sure. That must be it.”

“I have to be going,” Lucy said.

“Yeah,” Kora said. “Take my umbrella.”

But the apartment door had already slammed shut behind Lucy.