Mom and dad go to Egypt!

So, I'm checkin' my email and Vanna's blog post, and I find out that she's filled out papers to try to adopt these 2 Egyptian kids.

Personally, I think she's crazy.

Not that the kids aren't cute, from the pix she posted they're adorable... but I'm not sure about this.

Apparently mom has found out about Vanna's plan, too. Of course she's found out. It was in the paper! If mom wasn't already teed off at Vanna, if they hadn't already had this big blowup over her book, then this latest thing has really set her off. So much so, that she and dad booked a flight and headed to Egypt themselves! Since I still have school, I plan to stay at Noah and Neil's while they're gone. I can't see myself in this house by myself.
I'd only been to Noah's place once before, when I was still little and Neil's parents were getting married.

Interview with a Mummy

Hey, it's me, Bas. My globetrotting sister is in Egypt (again), lol.

Welp, here it is. It's my sister's book. It was published the day before she came back from China. It's caused all hell to break loose in the house and the whole town is talking about it. Daisy, who works in the bookstore, says it can't keep enuf copies on the shelf to keep up with all the peeps askin' about it. I'm not gonna read it, myself; heck, I've heard more than enuf about it from mom and other folks. Daisy says she's started to read it and she's like on page 49 or somethin.'

I do think the hoopla over the book caused Vanna to leave this time. She and mom had this huge fight right after she came back from China and they're not even speakin' to each other now. Mom is upset over the book; she says Vanna painted an unfair picture of her in it. For the record, Vanna says it's all fiction.

What I do know is on the front page of it there's a dedication in it to Aunt Margaret. I didn't know her that well, she died when I was a baby. Vanna says she was a 2nd mother to her, though.

Breakfast with Bassy

Very early the next morning, after the dust settled, Bassy and I were eating pancakes in the kitchen. He was starting to fill me in on what was going on while I was in China.

Then, he told me, "Vanna, mom's upset about your book. She said she didn't like what you wrote about her in it."

I shook my head. "Bassy, mom is upset about more than the book. This has been building for some time now."

"But why? Why can't you get along?"

"Bassy, sweetie," I told him, "a lot of the stuff that happened between us happened well before you were even born."

"What kinds of things?" Bassy was really, really pressing me. He was pressing me to answer questions I wasn't ready to answer.

"She doesn't like what I do for a living, for starters."

"For what it's worth, I think it's pretty cool what you do." He flashed me his gigawatt smile. It's the same one dad has, the kind that lights up an entire room. "Everybody at school wants to know where my sister is going next."

"She wants me to get a nice boring office job or to sit at home waiting for some mythical prince to rescue me."

"Say," Bassy asked, his eyes lighting up, "how'd you get that gig? And why do you do it?

"I signed up for it, at this website. Easy peasy. "

"Why do you do it? I mean, why'd you sign up for it?"

"'Cause I like to push myself, test my limits. 'Cause when I was younger I used to like to explore the catacombs in the cemetery."

"You went in there?"

"Sure did. Plenty of times."

I would have continued the conversation, but my plane was leaving for Egypt. I had a mission to finish.

Continued on The Savannah Plumb Chronicles

Tuesdays (Afternoons) with Ari

I arrived at Ari's house that afternoon. Ms. Kanto, the lady she was staying with, was in her garden, and I asked her if Ari was home. I knew the answer was yes, as her bike was there. But I wanted to see if Ms. Kanto was going to lie to me. To my surprise, she didn't, and directed me to the living room where Ari was watching TV.

Ari, as usual, was a ready ear for my complaints. I ended up telling her everything, about my argument with my mother, about learning that my kid brother had gotten his first kiss before me, and about my attachment to Satis Amin. "What is my problem?" I asked her. "I don't know why all this is bothering me." Under my breath I wondered, "Why is social stuff so easy for Bassy and so hard for me?"

Apparently Ari heard my last comment because she replied, with a little bit of a mischievous grin, "Because, Savannah, you have the charisma of a dirty dishrag and the social skills of a slug."

I was a little flummoxed by her comment, so I asked her to explain it.

"Savannah, you walk around with your nose in the air like you're better than everybody else. It's like pulling teeth for you to even talk to other sims. The only reason you talk to me is because I'm about the only person you know who's as weird as you are. You're an introvert. Face it, you are. You like painting, and writing, and chess, and classical music, and hanging around in cemeteries. That's introvert stuff. Being an introvert is okay, it's not a crime. It's just who you are. Your brother is who he is and you are who you are. You're different people and that's okay too. And every time you do meet someone, you start talking about the four different colors of ghosts." She let out a chuckle.

We spent the rest of the afternoon lazing around, she painting and me playing chess on the computer. We didn't say anything to each other after that, each of us working on our own pursuits in companionable silence.

I'm back home ... but...

I'm back home, but not all is well, despite the smile I have while riding my scooter. I'm not even sure how long I'll call the Plumb mansion 'home.'

There are work matters -- the third relic is still in some pyramid in Egypt, I have yet to find the writings of Qin Shan Hu, and Satis has been on my brain ever since before I left China. I'm not sure if it's a case of her needing me -- or me needing her. I suspect it's a little of both. Especially now, now that relations with my own mother have gone from bad to worse.

You know it's pretty bad when your dad is trying to play mediator between you and your mom. That was the case the morning I returned home.

As Bassy might have told you, my book was published while I was gone. I knew exactly what I was saying, and I wrote exactly what I wanted to say. If you've read this blog enough, you know that I don't mince words, that I say exactly what I mean. Sometimes my bluntness gets me into trouble.

I wanted to have a decent conversation with my mother. Really, I did. And the whole thing started out innocuously enough, with me and dad and Bassy at the breakfast table.
"Say, Vanna," dad asked, half-jokingly, "did you bring enough fortune cookies for the rest of us?" I promised him I had but I'd have to get them out of my bag and hope they weren't crushed.

Bassy, of course, was bragging to me that he'd gotten his first kiss before I did. I wouldn't even look up at him. I was like, okay, Bas, you got me there. The social stuff comes so easy for him. Even when he was little he had tons of friends and was always at someone's house. I, by contrast, was never exactly the most social person, and that kind of thing was always a challenge for me, even when I was little. I'd never had a play date at someone's house and none of the other kids shared my interests.

Anyway, mom came in after the rest of us had eaten breakfast...and she was not happy. Truthfully, when is she happy? The only time I'd seen her semi-in a good mood was right after she and dad got married in France.

"Could you tell me the meaning of this book?" she asked me, holding up an advance copy of my book. She decided to read, aloud, at the table, a passage from chapter 2.

"Saffron Riana Palmer, where the hell have you been?" Saundra Burroughs
stood at the entrance door to their custom-built mansion in the Simmywood Hills,
as, in anguish and disgust, she watched her daughter once again get out of the
back door of a police car.
Saundra had been quite the beauty in her day; indeed, in her bedroom she had posters of herself in her former glory. When her career stalled, she devoted herself full-bore to raising Saffron, who she called an ‘accidental tourist.‘ She watched younger actresses get the choice roles she once had. Now middle-aged and harried, she once again presided over the inevitable lecture of a wayward child.

"Could you tell me, Savannah, what was that production?"

"Mom, it's a story, really. It's fiction. It's not real."

"It surely sounded real to me, Savannah. Saffron Palmer? Saundra Burroughs? A kid breaking curfew and her mom lecturing her? Sounds a lot like you're talking about yourself to me."

"They tell you in writing class that you're supposed to write what you know. Well, I'm writing about what I know."

"You have been out of control since the day you were born, Savannah. I didn't have these problems with my other two daughters."

"If you took time to be a mother, maybe I wouldn't be 'out of control.'"

"Savannah!"

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it? You always told us to tell the truth. Well, now I'm telling it."

"And Savannah, what's this about a mummy? Did you actually encounter one?"

"So what if I did? Is it any of your business?"

Mom had figured out that my story wasn't entirely fiction. But I didn't answer her. Nor did I reply to her next query.

"You know, Savannah, in my day girls were supposed to be seen and not heard. The most dangerous thing we ever did was walk around in stiletto heels. Here you are, gallivanting about the world, taking up residence in dusty tombs and dodging fire, electricity, and mummies. And you're -- happy -- about this?"

"I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. I love my job and cannot imagine myself doing anything else."

"Start with your walk, Savannah. My gosh, you don't walk, you tramp about with your fists clenched, great heaving strides. You're supposed to glide about, like a lady."

"Yeah, well, mom, you know, it's kinda late to try to tell me what to do now."

"You know, I wish you were more like Sebastian, really. He has a ton of friends, does well in school, and wouldn't even think of doing the things you do."

"You know, mom, if you wish I were more like Bassy, then how come when he had a problem, he ran to me? You know why that is? Because you were never fucking there!"

"How can I be there when you put a brick wall around your father and never allowed me to get close? It's just the two of you most of the time -- on an island all by yourselves. No one else is even allowed entry."
"Maybe if you would stop being such a hard-ass --"

"Savannah Rachel Plumb, you have the nerve to accuse someone of being a hard-ass? That's the pot calling the kettle black, really. You walk around here thinking you're so tough. That Cheesman boy came looking for you the other day and he was crying when he was talking about you. You hurt him, big time. You are the most self-centered, disobedient, willful girl I've ever seen in my life."

"Oh, so now you join the party, trying to control MY life!"

"Savannah, if you're not careful, you're gonna end up alone -- like your Aunt Margaret."

I was incensed. "How dare you bring her into this conversation only to insult her! If I ended up like Aunt Margaret, then I've lived a very happy life."

Me and Daisy sittin' in a tree....(cont'd)

Hey Vanna, u'll never guess what happened...

It all started, oddly enuf, when I confronted Daisy 'bout Ernie. I made her promise me it would never happen again.

I couldn't jus' throw away our friendship over him.

Had to admit, she felt really, really good in my arms. I still have the scent of her perfume in my nose.

"Baby, you're like a masterpiece -- you get better with age."

"Ohh -- say it again!" she cried.

Well, you can guess what happened next. Haha

Yep, it was pucker-up time. They say there's no time like the first time. Ahhh.

To top off this really, really good day, I'm chillin' on your bed, Vanna.

Luv u. Later, Bas

Me and Daisy sittin' in a tree....

Yo, Bas here. Vanna's in China. The woman does not keep still.

Ain't seen Ernie since that day I was at his house. But I rode home with Daisy on the bus. She was kinda shifty, but then I asked her if she hooked up with him before I got there that day.
"U think I was with him?" she asked me.
"Sure looked like that 2 me," I told her.
"Bas, c'mon! Ernie & I, we homies! You know I wouldn't do nothin' like dat 2 ya."





Daisy & I ran off the bus and towards her living room. She said she had somethin' 2 show me.



"Bas, I saw this yesterday at the bookstore."
My mouth fell 2 the floor. It was my sister on the cover of a magazine. When did she even have time 2 do this spread?
I'm used 2 seein' mom and dad on these, but my sister too???
"I knew she was your sister so I bought it and I looked at the pix. Most of 'em are in Egypt. Is she some kind of adventurer or something?"
"That's exactly what she is," I told her. "She says she's studying ancient history, but she's doin' more than that."




I realized I was alone...with Daisy. Her 'rents weren't home. I had a few butterflies in my stomach, 4 sure. I needed 2 know da truth.
"Did u hook up with Ernie be4 I got there?"
"Bas, you know that ain't true. Ernie jus' pullin' yo' chain."
"So u think Ernie's lyin' 2 me."
"He got 2 be. I ain't nevah touched him!"
I wasn't sure whether 2 believe her or not. Should I? More later, got 2 do my homework, Bas

Back to China

The next morning I got up to get ready to go to China. Of course, that didn't go too well. I fell on my tush trying to get Aunt Margaret's dresser open. Note to self -- get a new dresser.
Of course, I had a lot to think about when I arrived there, and all of a sudden finding Qin Shan Hu's writings were further down the list. I don't like being distracted like this. I like having a clear mind.
Damn Andrew Cheesman! Damn Noah Plumb!
Just my luck, then, that just as I'm leaving for China, the publisher calls saying they want more revisions to "Interview with a Mummy."
Great.

Dreams of My Father

After finally getting to bed, I had a really weird dream. I was walking through a tomb...in Egypt...with my dad.

It was just him and me -- no one else was there.

"Dad," I called, holding his hand. "Dad, it's okay, I wouldn't show you this place if it weren't safe. It's the first tomb I completed here in Egypt.

Dad hesitated for a moment and then followed me through a door. "Princess, I don't know how you do this, hours alone beneath the surface, all the time."

"I wouldn't do this if I didn't positively love this work. I'm learning so much!"

We were tired walking so we decided to sit at this Egyptian table. There were two chairs. We sat there, looking at each other. Sometimes I think my father and I have an unspoken understanding, a secret language that only we share.

"Savannah," he'd told me, "I'm an old man now, and you know that fairly soon I'll be going on to the afterlife. I'm at peace with it, and know that I've lived a full and rich life. The thing I want most now is for my children to be content and happy. However, princess, even though you've been successful in your adventures and you're about to encounter fame the likes of which you've never imagined, you do need some interpersonal balance. And I believe that Andrew is that person who will provide that balance in your life that you need."

A Midnight Workout

Ok, so I told you that dad is as fanatical about fitness as he is about music, and it all started with a fitness program he designed himself when he was in his teens. As a result, for his age he is in fabulous shape. His idea of cheering me up is dragging me to the weight room and 'training' me -- basically yelling while I lift weights.

"Harder! Harder! You can do it!"

"I'm trying, dad, but really, I'm exhausted, I've had a long day."

Of course, it's usually about more than pumping iron and cardio with him. It's usually that he wants to tell me something.

So we stopped.

"You know, dear, I've been thinking -- about Andrew."

I shrugged. Cheesebreath was the last thing I wanted to hear about. "What about him?"

"Well remember that night he brought you home while you were in high school?"

"How can I forget it? He caught me while I was on my way to the cemetery, but of course I didn't tell him that. I was so pissed off at him for wanting to play the police."

"That's the first time I realized he cared."

I shook my head. "He thinks he can 'rescue' me. He wants to play that 'knight in shining armor,' rescuing the princess. And there's Noah behind the scenes, egging him on!"

"You know, I'm not so sure Noah did anything."

"Dad, you didn't hear how he and Andy were standing there, plotting, like two criminals planning a heist! I'm telling you, they're thick as thieves."
"He's knocking at the door of your heart, Savannah," dad said, "and you won't let him in."

"Dad -- has it occurred to you or Noah that maybe, just maybe, I don't feel that way about him?"

"You're not so sure how you feel, are you?"

"I'm not even sure WHAT to feel at this point. Disgust at Noah for trying to run my life, anger at Andrew for listening to him, and surprise at you for taking THEIR side --"

"Savannah." Dad let out a heaving sigh.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe getting married is not at the top of my priority list right now? I mean, I'm trying to find that last relic and then I was sent to China --"

"Savannah, have you thought about why you want to find these relics? Perhaps it's not really these relics you're looking for -- it's something else. Something far less tangible than a couple of pieces of sculpture older than all of us put together."

Revelations and Sleepless Nights

I wasn't sure how to react to Andy's stunning revelation at the diner. I couldn't sleep. I paced around the room all night. I even resorted to pilfering Bassy's new video game and started playing it.

When Dad came into the room, I tore his head off. "I just know Noah put him up to this," I complained bitterly.
"Put who up to what?" Dad asked, looking confused.

"If my brother thinks he can run my life, he is sadly mistaken."

I ended up telling him everything.

"Savannah, you know, dear, maybe he does love you. Whether or not Noah had anything to do with what he said is beside the point. Love works in mysterious ways. If I knew, I'd be a very wise man."

"Dad, you're not listening, really."

"I don't have to, Savannah," he said with his lopsided grin. "You do exactly as you please anyway."

The Return of Cheesebutt

Ok, remember I told you Cheesebutt decided to crash our Christmas party??

Well, I ran into him again -- this time after work. I have a part-time gig at the cemetery, for when I'm home.

I was playing guitar outside my dad's theater (yes it is my dad's, it is named after him) and I look over and see someone standing there, and sure enough, it's him.

"I didn't know you play guitar," he said. I told him it's just a hobby, I don't do it for a living like my parents do.

So we got to talking, and the next thing I know, I'm in his minivan, riding to the diner for a 'midnight snack.' I know, I know. You have my permission to shoot me.

"It's a beautiful night," he said as he drove. HE DROVE! Of course he had to drive, I didn't even take my car to work.

The dinner was nice, we had burgers and fries and all the greasy-spoon food I'd been denied in Egypt.

"So this is the rust-bucket you drive now, eh?" I asked him as I eyed his forest-green minivan.

"Hey, it gets me from point A to B. All I need, really."

"Savannah!" he called from the back of the diner, as I turned to leave.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Savannah, will you listen to me for just one second?"

"Look, it's late," I told him. "I have to catch a flight to China in the morning."

"That's your problem, you're always rushing," he said. "If you'd just let life come to you --"

"Oh, come on, Cheesebreath! You know I'm not that kind of person."
"You know, I'm kind of old to be called by those kinds of names." Thing is, he was kind of laughing as he said it, so it was hard to take seriously. "Look, I know things have changed --"

"You're damn right things have changed! I'm a doctor now."

"Not a medical doctor."

"Well, no. I'm a doctor of archaeology. My specialty is ancient Egypt and the relics left behind."

"Savannah Plumb, of all the things I imagined you doing, raiding ancient tombs is not one of them."

"Well then," I told him, "I guess you don't know me very well."

"I guess I don't."

We stood there for a few moments in complete silence. Then I turned to him and told him, "You know what, Cheesecake, the next time you and my brother get together to plan MY life, I wish you'd let me in on it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damned well what I'm talking about! You were at the party the other night talking to him and I overheard some of what you were telling him."
"I was only telling him that we went to school together."

I shook my head. I could tell he was lying.

"I love you, Savannah."
I cupped my ears to go closer so I could hear. "What did you say?"

"I love you, Savannah Rachel Plumb." He even pronounced my middle name right, which was a shock. Usually he butchers it. "I've always loved you. I've loved you from the moment I first saw you."

"Sure didn't act like it," I muttered bitterly to no one in particular, wasn't sure if he'd heard. But he did, apparently.

"I was a teenage boy, I was young and foolish. I should never have let you go."

"Andrew!" It just slipped out, his given name. Not sure what made me say it.

"My mother was right. The day you came by, right after you left, she turned to me and said, 'Andy, you better hold on to that girl, 'cause she's going places.' She was right. I should've never let you out of my sight. I realized the whole time the news reports were coming in from Egypt that you were missing -- that I was in love with you. I wasn't sure if I was going to ever get the chance to tell you."

My awesome verbal faculties had suddenly left me. I couldn't say anything. He had said it all. But he wasn't done, either.

"Savannah, I realize your family is wealthy but it's never been about the money. I'm in love with you, not your fortune. I'm in love with your spunk, your spirit, your courage and your smarts. I'm in love with your green eyes and your smile, when you choose to show it. We can spend the rest of our lives fishing and gardening, and you can paint and write and play your guitar as much as you want. We can even do some traveling -- maybe get that vacation home in Egypt you want --"

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked him. "Couldn't you have done this earlier?"

"There was never a good time, and there's never a better time than the present. Besides, every time I tried to tell you, you always brushed this kind of stuff aside."

I couldn't exactly put my trip to China on hold; after all, I was being summoned there to search for the ancient writings of Qin Shan Hu (my best guess at pronunciation is KEEN SHAWN HUGH). And I still have to find the final relic in Egypt and write about that. I cannot give up my job, as I need it like I need air to breathe. But I was tired, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I needed to get home and get to bed. I had a lot to think about.

Neil

The next afternoon my nephew Neil (son of Noah and Sadie) came off the school bus with Sebastian. I have to say, the boy is quite an interesting little character. He's inherited his mom's neurotic trait and his dad's good trait, which ought to be intriguing in his own right.

"Hey, last one to the house is a rotten egg," Neil called playfully. And though Neil is the couch potato, it was Bassy who was struggling to keep up. Not to mention, even though Bassy is Neil's uncle, Neil is actually 4 simdays older than he is. That's one measure of how crazy this family is.

Finally I saw them both walk to the house.

Before going off to my part-time job at the cemetery, I overheard Bassy and Neil talking about this movie that's playing at the multiplex. Boys will be boys, I guess.

Including, well, older boys. When I got back from the cemetery, dad had joined them downstairs. Neil seemed to instantly recognize he was in his grandfather's presence for the first time in his life. "I knew grandpa was famous," I heard him later tell Bassy, "but, man, he's grandpa, ya know?"

So there they were sitting on the couch, Neil, Bassy, and dad, Bassy asking dad if he changed the batteries on the smoke detector and Neil kinda sitting there soaking everything in. It was weird having Neil there, honestly, a stark reminder that time marches on.