1
Kala's parents were thrifty, impractical people. They deplored spending money, particularly on anything that smacked of luxury or indulgence; yet, at the same time, they suffered from big dreams and a crippling inability to set responsible goals.
One spring evening, Father announced, "We should take a long drive this summer."
"To where?" Mom asked warily.
"Into the mountains," he answered. "Just like we've talked about doing a thousand times."
"But can we afford it?"
"If we count our coins, and if the fund drive keeps doing well. Why not?" First Day celebrations had just finished, and their church, which prided itself on its responsible goals, was having a successful year. "A taste of the wilderness," he cried out at the dinner table. "Doesn't that sound fun?"
To any other family, that would have been the beginning of a wonderful holiday. But Kala knew better. Trouble arrived as soon as they began drawing up lists of destinations. Her brother Sandor demanded a day or two spent exploring the canyon always named Grand. Father divulged an unsuspected fondness for the sleepy, ice-caked volcanoes near the Mother Ocean. When pressed, Kala admitted that she would love walking a beach beside the brackish Mormon Sea. And while Mom didn't particularly care about scenery--a point made with a distinctly superior tone--she mentioned having five sisters scattered across the West. They couldn't travel through that country and not stop at each of their front doors, if only to quickly pay their respects.
Suddenly their objectives filled a long piece of paper, and even an eleven-year-old girl could see what was obvious: Just the driving was going choke their vacation. Worse still, Mom announced, "There's no reason to pay strangers to cook for us. We'll bring our own food." That meant dragging a bulky cooler everywhere they went, and every meal would be sloppy sandwiches, and every day would begin with a hunt for fresh ice and cheap groceries to replace the supplies that would inevitably spoil.
Not wanting to be out-cheaped by his wife, Father added, "And we'll be camping, of course." But how could they camp? They didn't have equipment. "Oh, we have our sleeping sacks," he reminded his doubting daughter. "And I'll borrow gear from our friends at church. I'm sure I can. So don't worry. It's going to be wonderful! We'll just drive as far as we want every day and pull over at nightfall. Just so long as it costs nothing to pitch a tent."
To Kala, this seemed like an impossible, doomed journey. Too many miles had to be conquered, too many wishes granted, and even under the best circumstances, nobody would end up happy.
"Why don't you guys ever learn?" Kala muttered.
"What was that, darling?"
"Nothing, Father," she replied with a minimal bow. "Nothing."
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