In Over Their Heads by Margaret Peterson Haddix
“Is it wrong to want to know stuff for sure?” Eryn asked. “To not have things hidden?”
“Let’s look around,” Ava suggested. “Just . . . don’t get lost.”
Eryn picked up a stick and started poking it into the underbrush lining the trail. Nick peeked around tree trunks.
Ava looked up, toward the treetops.
That’s where I’d hide, she thought. Climb a tree, cling to a branch that’s higher than anyone would expect a twelve-year-old girl to reach . . .
Bingo.
There, high above the ground, Ava saw a flash of pale, freckled skin. Lida Mae’s tan coat and brown boots and faded grayish skirt and long johns blended in with the tree she was hiding in and the cloudy sky beyond. But her face stood out.
Did Ava dare call out, I see her!? Or would that reveal too much about Ava at the same time it revealed Lida Mae’s location?
It was so hard sometimes, trying to remember how little she was supposed to be capable of. Trying to remember what was “normal.”
“Do you think Lida Mae might have figured out too much?” Eryn asked nervously. “Like, do you think she noticed our parents were acting strange back at the campsite? And maybe just now she realized that Ava is a—”
“Stop,” Ava said, her voice sharp as a razor.
“If Lida Mae’s hiding nearby, she can hear every word we say,” Nick whispered.
Ava mouthed, Thank you, at him. Eryn flinched and muttered, “You’re right. Sorry.”
Was that maybe the reason Lida Mae was hiding? So she could eavesdrop on what they said when they thought she wasn’t listening?
Ava let her gaze glide across the treetops as if she’d seen nothing unusual. She was careful not to pause at all or peer in Lida Mae’s precise direction. But even her quick glance was enough to prove: Lida Mae had her head tilted. She was listening intently.
“Lida Mae!” Ava called. “This isn’t funny anymore! We’re getting scared!”
Out of the corner of her eye Ava saw Lida Mae start climbing down from her lofty perch.
“Sorry! Sorry!” she called back. “I didn’t mean to scare you! I was just checking on . . . I’ll tell you when I get down there!”
“Where is she?” Eryn said from behind Ava.
Even with Lida Mae shaking the whole tree as she scrambled down, Eryn and Nick were still squinting hopelessly off into the distance, unable to pick out the movement.
Ava was glad she hadn’t admitted she’d seen Lida Mae at the top of the tree, even farther away.
“Oh, there she is!” Nick finally said, long after Lida Mae had plopped to the ground and started fighting her way toward them through the underbrush.
Lida Mae was breathless by the time she reached the trail.
“Don’t you feel the change in the air?” she asked. “The wind switched directions, and then I climbed a tree to see if I could pick out any other signs, off in the distance. . . . I kind of forgot about the walkie-talkies.”
“What was so important that you could forget you were talking to Nick?” Eryn asked, a little huffily.
“There’s a bad storm coming,” Lida Mae said, her eyes wide and worried. “Maybe a blizzard. We’ve got to go prepare. You and your parents should move your campsite into the cave tonight, to stay safe.”
Eryn and Nick gasped. Ava narrowed her eyes. Her brain was thinking differently once again.
Is there really a blizzard coming? she wondered. Or is Lida Mae just telling us that to get us to all go back into the cave?
But why would she want that?
TWELVE
Jackson
Dad’s driving was jerky. Maybe it just seemed that way because Jackson was huddled under a blanket in the back of the van rather than safely seat-belted in. But it made Jackson worry. Did he dare to speak up? To yell at his father?
Dad, be careful! he could say. If you mess up so badly that the cops stop you, what if they search the van? What if they find me?
He was pretty sure police officers gave tickets to parents who didn’t use seat belts on their kids. But that was the least of their worries.
Jackson didn’t shout anything up to his dad about being cautious. Each jerk of the van made him more and more convinced that something was really wrong. Dad was already distracted enough.
Jackson’s internal clock told him that they were on the highway for twenty-five minutes before Dad finally took an exit ramp. Then there was a series of stops and starts—for stop signs? Traffic signals?—before Dad came to a complete halt and turned the engine off.
“This is the nearest store to the nature preserve that has the electronic parts I need,” Dad said, sounding almost casual, as if trying to give the impression he was only muttering to himself. “I’ll just run in and run back out—it won’t take a minute. And then I’ll drive right back to the nature preserve.”
Was that Dad’s way of telling Jackson to just stay where he was?
Jackson didn’t poke his head out from under the blanket. He heard Dad’s car door open and close.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
This is “it won’t take a minute”? Did he mean it won’t take a minute because it will actually take an hour? Jackson thought grumpily.
He listened hard, catching sounds of distant traffic, chirping birds, and a flapping that was probably a flag blowing in a strong wind.
He didn’t hear any footsteps, or anyone talking anywhere near the car. He dared to ease the blanket back, uncovering his eyes. From his position on the van floor he could see nothing through the windows but the gray, murky sky. Since no face appeared pressed against the glass, he gathered his courage and inched his head up to look out.
The van was at the back of a gravel parking lot, a good three rows away from any other vehicle. A deserted walkway led up to a low wooden building with a sign labeling it GENERAL STORE. And, as he’d suspected, a vast American flag hung on a tall flagpole out front. A strong wind whipped it back and forth.
I wish Ava and I had given ourselves X-ray vision, so I could see what’s going on inside that store, Jackson thought.
He had considered it, but he hadn’t seen any way to do it without changing his eyes so dramatically that Mom and Dad would have noticed.
What if Dad’s having some problem, and he needs me to go in there and rescue him? Jackson wondered. How would I even know?
Just then he saw the door of the store swing open, banging the wall beside it. Dad stumbled out.
Jackson dove back under the blanket, even as his brain rang with the thought Why did Dad stumble? Is he all right? Did something happen?
From under the blanket he heard a door latch click, but the sound didn’t come from the front of the van, up by the driver’s seat. It was the latch of the door closest to Jackson that seemed to have released.
Was it Dad? Was he just putting his purchases in the back?
Or was it someone else?
Jackson heard ragged breathing. That didn’t sound like Dad.
The door opened, and someone climbed past Jackson into the row of seats ahead of him. The door slammed shut.
“Quick! Let me download something into your brain. . . .”
It was Dad’s voice.
Jackson rose up from the floor. Dad groped for the back of Jackson’s head, where there was a small data port hidden in Jackson’s hair. In the instant before Jackson turned, he caught a glimpse of Dad’s twisted, anguished face.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked. “Are you sick?”
Dad was never sick. Not for real. That was one of the benefits of being a robot.
An adult robot, anyway.
“No time . . . to explain,” Dad muttered. “Just . . . do you have it yet? What I’m sending you?”
Jackson scanned his own mind. There it was, something new: a file labeled HOW TO DRIVE.
“What?” Jackson said. “What? You’re teaching me how to drive now?”
“Have to,
He collapsed against the van seat. Jackson’s reached for his father’s arm, to yank him back up, but the arm was limp and floppy. So was the rest of his body.
Dad had completely stopped functioning.
THIRTEEN
Eryn
Lida Mae led Eryn, Nick, and Ava back toward the campsite at a pace that practically could have set Olympic records. Eryn and Nick struggled to keep up; Ava didn’t seem fazed.
Just like she was so calm when we thought Lida Mae had abandoned us, Eryn thought resentfully. Just like she was so quick about distracting Lida Mae from noticing Mom and Dad and Brenda. . . . It must be nice to be a robot!
She didn’t really believe that. Robots were too artificial, too emotionless, too boring. Everything about them was programmed, and Eryn liked being able to think for herself. To make her own choices.
Right now, though, I wouldn’t mind somebody else giving me a really good suggestion about how to deal with Lida Mae, and with the papers Nick swiped from the secret room, and with Mom and Dad acting so weird, and . . .
It didn’t help to list everything Eryn was worried about. But if Mom and Dad and Ava’s mother, Brenda, were still messed up—or possibly even getting worse—how could the kids keep Lida Mae from noticing once they got back to the campsite?
Eryn forced herself to pick up her pace and catch up with Lida Mae.
“Why don’t you tell us now what we’ll need to do to prepare for the storm?” she asked. “That way, once we get back to the campsite, we can handle telling our parents, and you can head back to your family as fast as possible to help them. We can, uh, call you on the walkie-talkie if we have any questions.”
There, Eryn thought. That will work. Won’t it?
Ava raced up alongside her and Lida Mae.
“Or, if your family needs a lot of help—getting your sheep safely into the barn, or whatever—then maybe some of us can go with you to deal with that work,” she suggested.
Okay, got to hand it to you, Stepsis, Eryn thought. That was a stroke of genius. Way to go! You really do sound like you want to help, not like you’re just being nosy!
But Lida Mae shook her head.
“Thanks for the offer, but my family has been through this so many times, we’re fine on our own,” she said. “Let’s concentrate on keeping your family safe, since it’s clear you’uns aren’t really used to camping. Or being out in nature at all.”
“Well, we kids aren’t, but our parents know a lot more than we do,” Nick said, pushing his way in to talk to the three girls.
Lida Mae seemed to be trying really hard not to roll her eyes.
“No offense, but I saw how they set up your campsite,” she said. “I want to talk to your parents directly, to make sure they understand how serious this storm could be.”
Of course you do, Eryn thought miserably. I tried to prevent that, Ava tried, Nick tried . . . we all just struck out.
She hadn’t noticed anything odd about the weather when Lida Mae had first mentioned the change in the air. But the wind was picking up now, tugging violently at Eryn’s shoulder-length hair and whipping it into her eyes. Eryn wished she’d had the sense to pull it back into a ponytail or do braids like Lida Mae’s and Ava’s. Though, now that she was paying attention, she noticed that Ava’s pigtails were oddly done, the braiding ending only halfway down on the one side.
Is that another sign that the robots in my family are going loco? Eryn wondered. Should Nick and I be most worried about Ava falling apart in front of Lida Mae?
Lida Mae took a sudden turn onto a smaller trail. She led the other kids over a rise, and a sturdy-looking shed came into view.
“Oh, wow,” Lida Mae murmured, coming to a halt. “Your parents got a lot done while we were hiking.”
This is our campsite? Eryn marveled. That shed is something Dad built? That’s what his lean-to became? When we were only gone for a couple of hours?
“Dad’s job is building houses,” Nick said, a hint of pride in his voice. “He’s really good at building things.”
“And fast,” Lida Mae agreed.
Too fast? Eryn worried. Is that shed going to make Lida Mae realize there’s something really weird about my family?
Dad stepped out of the shed.
“Oh, you guys are back already!” he called, giving a broad, welcoming wave. “How was it? Bracing wind, don’t you think?”
The wind made his wild, curly hair dance all over the place, but messy hair was normal for him. He wasn’t sweating anymore either. Maybe he was okay again.
Lida Mae strode purposefully toward him and the shed.
“Mr. Stone, I need to talk to you’uns about that wind,” she said. “Are the other grown-ups around?”
“The women are,” Dad said. “Michael—that’s Ava’s dad—he’s not back yet, but I’m sure he’ll be coming soon.” A hint of worry crossed his face, but he replaced it with a smile quickly enough that maybe Lida Mae didn’t notice. He held open the rough door of the shed—it was amazing that the shed even had a door. “Please, come into our humble dwelling.”
He wouldn’t invite Lida Mae in to talk to Mom and Brenda if they weren’t fine now too. Would he? Eryn wondered.
She and Nick and Ava trailed after Lida Mae. It was crowded and dim inside the shed, but Eryn saw Mom and Brenda stacking rocks against one wall, as if they were putting together the base of a fireplace.
That was bizarre. As far as Eryn knew, Mom had never built anything in her life. In fact, for years she and Dad had said they got divorced because Dad liked working with his hands and Mom just liked thinking.
Of course, now Nick and Eryn knew there was a lot more to the story.
But Mom and Brenda both looked normal enough as they stood up, smiled, and greeted Lida Mae much more warmly than they had before.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Lida Mae said. “There’s a blizzard coming, and even though your shed is really amazing for a morning’s work, it’s not going to give you enough protection against the kind of wind and snow we’re likely to get. Or the cold.”
Eryn saw all the grown-ups exchange glances.
“We were about to put mud between those logs,” Dad said. “Now that we have the kids here to help too, we—”
Lida Mae shook her head.
“There’s no time for that,” she said. “Not when you can just weather the storm inside the cave. That’s so much safer.”
“But the KEEP OUT signs,” Mom said. “The . . . the danger of rockslides and sinkholes . . .”
Can’t you give that a rest, Mom? Eryn thought impatiently. But she knew Mom probably couldn’t.
“I’ll tell you the best place to go in the cave,” Lida Mae said. “You’ll be fine. And in the cave you won’t get frostbite, or lose your fingers or toes. Or freeze to death.”
Did Lida Mae have to be quite so blunt? Eryn knew that Mom wasn’t just scared of rockslides and sinkholes. There was also the problem of how she and all the other robots were programmed. All the grown-up robots, anyway. They really couldn’t disobey a KEEP OUT sign, unless they had to, to protect their children.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” she said. “Nick and I—and, I guess, Ava—we’ll go in first. So you’ll have to follow us, to make sure we’re safe.”
Was she too obvious, saying that in front of Lida Mae?
But Lida Mae nodded, muttering, “Yes, that’s what my parents are like too. Always putting their kids’ needs ahead of their own.”
“Were you planning to stay here to help us?” Ava asked, in a tremulous voice that really did make her sound scared. “Don’t let us keep you. We know you have your own family to worry about.”
“Yes, yes . . . ,” Lida Mae said vaguely. “I’ll go check on my family, and then I should be able to come back to help you before the worst of the storm hits. But don’t wait for me. Start moving you
She kept talking, giving instructions, but Eryn barely listened. She was too busy watching Mom, Dad, and Brenda and trying to figure out how they suddenly seemed like themselves again.
And then Lida Mae was saying her good-byes and final warnings and pushing her way out the door into the wind, which seemed stronger than ever.
It blew the door shut with a bang as soon as Lida Mae let go of it.
Ava peeked out through the cracks in the shed, as if she wanted to make sure Lida Mae was really truly gone.
“Is there any way to get in touch with Dad and Jackson?” she asked. “So we can warn them, too?”
Was that what she’d been so worried about? Eryn wondered. Jackson and his dad are robots! What danger would a blizzard be to robots? It’s not like they could get frostbite or lose their fingers or toes. Or die.
That made her feel so much more vulnerable, as a human. She caught Nick’s eye, and he gave her a grim nod. At least she wasn’t the only human around.
Brenda moved over and put her arm around Ava’s shoulder.
“No, we can’t get in touch with your dad or Jackson, but once Dad left the nature preserve and linked into the robot network, he was bound to hear a weather report,” she said. “He’ll know to take appropriate precautions.”
Would that mean staying outside the nature preserve, where Jackson might be discovered if he breaks down again in some dramatic way? Eryn wondered.
She decided not to ask that question out loud.
“Was Michael . . . acting normal when he left?” Nick asked. “Or was he sweating, or having trouble talking, or . . .”
Good question, Eryn thought.
“He was doing reasonably well,” Mom said defensively. “And all the evidence we can gather would seem to indicate that once he was back in touch with the wider robot network, any dysfunctional symptoms he might have shown would have disappeared.”
Okay, Mom’s feeling fine again, Eryn thought. Back to using ten big words where a few smaller ones would work just as well.
“Can you translate that into normal English?” she asked.
“Once he’s off the nature preserve, Michael should be back to normal,” Dad said. “It was just inside the nature preserve that he might have had problems. Like the rest of us.”