1
I didnt mean to burn down our garden shed. But now Im glad I did. If I hadnt, none of this would have happened. The island. The gold. It was all because of burning down that shed.
The first day of vacation I was sitting in there playing with a box of matches. Striking one. Watching it burn. Blowing it out. Throwing the dead stick on the floor and reaching for another.
I was bored.
Youre not allowed to say that word in our house.
Only boring people get bored, says Dad. Interesting people can always find something to be interested in.
You cant be bored, says Mom. Theres so much to do here! Why dont you play a game? Or call a friend? Or go for a bike ride?
But I didnt feel like doing any of that stuff. So I hid in the shed and played with matches.
Suddenly I smelled smoke. I looked around. Flames were blazing up the walls. One of the matches must have still been burning when I dropped it on the floor. I sprang at the door, wrenched it open, and threw myself outside.
As I rolled across the grass, my clothes smoking, I saw my mom standing at the French windows, her mouth open in a silent scream. Then she ran to get her phone.
By the time the fire engines arrived, the shed had burned itself out. They drenched it anyway, making sure no sparks blew into any of the neighbors houses. The chief fireman gave me a long lecture about fire safety. So did Mom. And Dad. They were still discussing how to punish me when the phone rang. It was Mrs. Spencer, calling to say that she was very sorry, but they really couldnt have me to stay. What if I burned down their shed too? Or even their house?
"It was an accident," said Dad. "Hell never do anything like it again."
But Mrs. Spencer wouldnt listen.
Dad sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. "I dont believe it," he groaned. "Well have to take him with us."
"We cant," said Mom.
"Then what are we going to do?"
"Someone will have him."
"Oh, yes?" asked Dad. "Who?"
My parents were having their first vacation together without children since my big sister, Grace, was born. My kid brother, Jack, was staying with his friend Bongo. Grace was staying with her friend Ruby. I would have been staying with Finn Spencer, but his parents wouldnt have me now. After the shed incident, neither would anyone else.
"I dont mind staying here," I told my parents.
"No chance," said Dad.
I had another suggestion. "I could share Grans room at the Home. I like playing chess with her friend Isaac. And the foods not bad."
But Mom vetoed that, too. "If no one will have you, well just have to cancel the vacation."
That was when Dad panicked. He called everyone he knew.
Everyone he could think of.
Even his brother.
Which was how I came to be sitting in the back of the family wagon at half past five on that Tuesday morning, whizzing down the interstate toward New York City.
Apparently Id met Uncle Harvey a few times at weddings and funerals, but hed never been to visit us in Norwich and I couldnt even remember what he looked like. Just like Dad, he was British but lived in the States, although in his case I didnt know why. Dad came here because he met Mom and married her and she wanted to be near her own parents when Grace was born. Uncle Harvey wasnt married and had no kids. I guess he just preferred New York to London, which makes sense; its cold and damp over there and the foods terrible.
The drive took hours. By the time we finally made it to Uncle Harveys street, Dad was flipping out. "Were going to miss the plane," he said, breathless with panic. "I knew we should have left earlier."
"Were going to be fine," said Mom calmly. "Look, were here already. Thats number nineteen."
Dad double parked, grabbed my bag from the trunk, and scanned the street for traffic cops, then raced up the steps and rang the bell. Mom and I followed right behind him. We stood on the top step, looking at the paint peeling off the front door and the trash bags stacked against a lamppost, spilling tin cans and orange peels. Two women jogged past. A man came out of another brownstone wearing a blue suit and carrying a racing bike. He put the bike in the road and swung himself onto the seat.
Dad rang the bell again. "Where the hell is he?"
"Simon!" said Mom.
"Sorry," said Dad. "But where is he?"
"Asleep," I mumbled. "If he has any sense."
"He cant be asleep. He knows were coming." But Dad took out his phone and called Uncle Harvey. There was a long pause. Then: "Hello? Harvey? Where are you? Were outside! Didnt you hear the bell? It doesnt matter. Forget it. Could you let us in?"
Six minutes later (Dad timed it), the front door was opened by an unshaven man wearing a long silk bathrobe decorated with yellow butterflies. "Simon! Sarah! How lovely to see you!"
I could see the relief on my parents faces. When Uncle Harvey hadnt answered the door, they really thought theyd have to take me to Nassau. Their vacation would have been ruined. Now they could hand me over and get away for a whole week of sunbathing, reading books by the pool, and smoochy candlelit dinners.
"Heres Tom," said Mom, pushing me forward. "Hes very excited about staying so near Greenwich Village. Arent you?"
"Hi," I said.
Uncle Harvey said hi back and shook my hand. He was taller than my dad, and thinner, too, and he looked much younger, although I knew the actual age difference was only two years and five months.
Mom said, "Are you sure you dont mind doing this?"
"Im looking forward to it," said Uncle Harvey. He had a mischievous smile. "Were going to have a wild time together."
"Not too wild," said Dad. "Toms been in enough trouble recently."
"That sounds interesting. What type of trouble? What have you done?"
"Oh, nothing much," I said. "Everyone just likes to get annoyed with me all the time."
"I know exactly what you mean," said Uncle Harvey.
I knew he didnt. He was just saying so to be nice. But I still appreciated it.
Dad gave me a quick, awkward hug. "Bye, Tom. Be good."
"Bye, Dad. Have a great vacation."
Mom kissed me. Then she stepped back and looked at me nervously. "I hope were doing the right thing. You will behave yourself, wont you?"
"Of course he will," said Uncle Harvey. "Now stop worrying. I hereby give you permission to enjoy yourselves. Get thee to the airport and have a glass of wine."
They didnt argue. Just rushed down the steps and ran along the street to their car, not wanting to give my uncle the chance to change his mind.
We stood on the step together, Uncle Harvey and I, watching Mom and Dad drive off. Then my uncle turned to me and said, "So, Tom. Here we are."
"Yup," I said. "Were here."
"Its nice to see you after all these years."
"Uh, you too."
"You look exactly how your father looked when he was your age. Maybe you look like me, too. What do you think?" He turned his head from side to side, showing me his profile.
I stared at my uncles face, searching for some connection between him and my father and myself, and finally I said, "I think we might have the same nose."
"Of course we do," said Uncle Harvey. "Its the Trelawney nose. Passed from generation unto generation. Without this nose, you cant be a Trelawney. Now lets go inside."
His apartment was on the fourth floor. As we trudged up the stairs together, Uncle Harvey said, "There is one thing I have to warn you about. I didnt want to tell your father. I thought he might be upset. But youre not going to mind, are you?"
"Depends what it is," I said.
"Give me a chance and Ill tell you. When your father rang, I said you could stay in my flat, and you can. The only thing is, I wont actually be here. Ive got to go abroad. On urgent business. But you can look after yourself, cant you?"
"No problem," I said.
"Are you sure?"
"Oh, yeah. Ill be fine."
"Youll have a wonderful time." He opened the door of his apartment and led me inside. "This is the perfect place for a bachelor. Treat it as your own. Invite friends round. Have parties. Its all yours. Does that sound OK?"
"That sounds great," I said.
"Good. I did try and explain this to your father, but he got so cross with me, I had to say Id change my plans."
"Hes been looking forward to this vacation for fifteen years," I explained. "He and Mom havent been away together without kids since Grace was born. Not even for a weekend."
"Thats what he said. I didnt think hed be very happy about you staying here alone—"
"He wouldnt."
"—so I thought we neednt tell him. Is that terrible?"
"No," I said. "Thats fine."
"You really dont mind?"
"When you gotta go, you gotta go."
"Im glad you see it like that, Tom. Strictly speaking, youre probably a bit young to be left alone, arent you?"
"Ill be fine," I said, already imagining how I would spend a week alone in New York City. And then, not wanting to discuss whether it was actually legal to leave me by myself in an apartment for a week, I asked, "Where are you going?"
"Peru," said my uncle.
"Wow. Cool. What are you doing there?"
"Oh, its a long story."
"Ive got time."
"Its also a secret."
"I wont tell anyone—I promise."
Uncle Harvey shook his head. "Im sorry, Tom. You might be my nephew, but I hardly know you. How could I possibly trust you with such an important secret?"
"We could do a deal," I said.
"A deal? What kind of deal?"