Chapter 6
W e walked down another white cobblestone path, past boutiques and street vendors, until we came to a restaurant with a familiar McDonald’s logo on the front door.
The smell of grease met us as we stepped inside.
A woman in her fifties stood behind the counter, wearing an unwelcoming sneer and a hairnet.
The menu was in English and had a fast-food appearance, but the room’s layout was nothing like a McDonald’s.
The furniture in the empty dining area looked like something from a yard sale, and the old wooden floorboards creaked as we approached the counter.
“Can we get three hamburgers?” Dad asked.
The woman scowled and punched the cash register. “You want drink?”
We ordered two waters and a Coke. Dad paid, and we huddled around a corner table, taking in the peeling wallpaper and water-stained ceiling. My arm slid across something slimy and red on the lip of the table that I hoped was ketchup. I cringed.
The hairnet lady laid three hamburger patties on the grill with the enthusiasm of someone at a funeral.
Then she walked out the front door. I watched through the window as she bought two water bottles and a Coke from the store across the street.
She returned and set them on our table before returning to the kitchen, never speaking or making eye contact.
“I don’t think this is a real McDonald’s,” Elizabeth whispered, her observation as obvious as her frayed red hair.
“Well, McDonald’s ain’t that good anyway,” Dad grumbled.
“Do you think a fake McDonald’s will be any better?” I said.
Dad frowned and shared a nervous glance with Elizabeth.
A few minutes later, Mrs. McGrumpy set three plates of food in front of us.
The burgers didn’t look bad, even if they had fries shoved inside and were covered in a strange white sauce.
Still, my intuition told me to beware. Dad was the first to lift the sandwich to his mouth.
He took a small bite and made a face like an infant being force-fed peas.
“What does it taste like, dear?” Elizabeth asked .
Dad dropped the sandwich onto his plate and forced a swallow. “It’s … different.”
Hardly a resounding endorsement, but he hadn’t gagged or fallen over dead, so I took a hesitant bite of my own.
The meat tasted rare, and the cream sauce left an overwhelming, bitter aftertaste.
I glanced at the empty kitchen and saw a pan of the suspicious sauce.
“How long do you think that stuff has been sitting out?”
“Too long.” Dad rose from his seat. “Let’s get a gyro. I saw a place near the town center.”
Elizabeth took a sniff of her burger. “Agreed.”
***
The gyro stand was a vast improvement over the imitation McDonald’s, although we discovered waiting patiently in line was not a local custom.
Regardless, we were able to push our way to the front of the mob and order dinner.
The workers even spoke a fair amount of English.
We scarfed down the gyros on a bench in the city plaza as tourists swarmed past us.
With our immediate needs met, the helpless sensation of being lost in a foreign land returned in force.
There was no sign of Will, so we started toward the hotel, frustrated and solemn.
The red sunset over the water was so pretty that it looked photoshopped.
How ironic one could feel downcast in such a beautiful place.
Elizabeth sobbed quietly, and Dad groaned that he was going to bed when we made it back.
I felt as miserable as they looked but was too wired to sleep.
I opted to hang out downstairs for a while.
Maybe watching strangers enjoy their holiday would improve my mood.
At first I considered lounging in the hotel’s café, but the herd of strange men sipping coffee gave me second thoughts, not to mention the cloud of cigarette smoke.
The only inviting space was a couch in the hotel lobby.
I plopped down there, rubbing my temples to relieve a stress headache. Where was Will?
As I sulked, a beautiful Shakira look-alike marched into the lobby, holding hands with her boyfriend.
Curly blond hair glistened in the twilight over her olive skin.
The men in the adjacent café gawked, like Cupid’s arrows had struck them.
It was the same look all the boys gave Lori at the pool right before they asked me to make them nachos.
I would’ve felt a hint of jealousy, but I already had enough things making life miserable .
Her boyfriend picked up the lobby phone and dialed. I stared off vacantly out the window, wondering if it was too early to sleep, when I heard a familiar voice.
“Mom! Yes, we’re here in the lobby.”
I did a double take as I registered that the voice was my stepbrother’s. He was holding hands with the stunning young woman. His sun-beaten skin and Euro-style clothes made him look like a local. My mouth fell open, and I rose on wobbly legs. I’d never been so happy to see this loser.
“Will!” I called out.
He turned and smiled. “Wini! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
I ran across the room and hugged him, ecstatic to be rescued from the strange paradise.
“This is Irena.” He motioned toward the beautiful girl.
I extended my hand, and she pulled me in for a two-cheek kiss.
“How was trip?” she asked in an accent thicker than half-dried cement.
“Good … I mean terrible … I mean …” I struggled to speak. “It’s so good to meet you!”
Dad and Elizabeth hobbled off the elevator. Elizabeth’s face looked like she’d just won the Powerball. Dad followed behind her, grinning and straightening his fanny pack. Their exhaustion seemed to be replaced by the joy of being rescued.
“She’s so beautiful,” Elizabeth said, staring at Irena.
Irena blushed and gave her the double-kiss treatment.
“You look good, kid.” Dad shook Will’s hand.
I hated to agree, but he did. His acne had cleared up, and he’d replaced his chub with muscles. He almost matched the gorgeous bride-to-be fawning at his side. It felt surreal that the basement troll had become a charming European man, like something from Dad’s old Twilight Zone reruns.
“We’ve got a cab waiting to take us to Malegonia,” Will said. “It’s waiting outside with Kyle and Mark.”
Kyle and Mark. Two of Will’s nerdy friends from high school. They’d always hung out on the side of the cafeteria where the freaks and geeks roamed. My most explicit memory of them was their awful high school band called Swamp Butt—a fitting name. Needless to say, I’d avoided them at all costs.
“Wonderful,” Elizabeth said. “How far until we get to our destination?”
“It’s just across the border,” Will said. “We should be there in less than an hour. ”
Dad rushed to the counter and explained we were checking out.
I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation, but I think he was making an unsuccessful bid for a refund.
Will went upstairs to get our luggage with his mother, leaving me in the lobby with Irena.
I gave her a long look from head to toe.
Her pearly white teeth matched her cream blouse, and her tight jeans revealed a figure clearly out of Will’s league.
How could a girl this pretty actually like him?
I was suspicious, but she looked at him with moonstruck eyes that screamed puppy love.
“Are you angry?” Irena asked.
I gaped in confusion. “Why would I be angry?”
Irena paused, as if she were deep in thought. “I means, are you hungry? You eat something?”
I realized she had meant to say hungry the first time. “Oh, no, we had gyros.”
Irena nodded, and I wondered how much English she understood. “How do you and Will communicate?” I asked.
“Will speak very good Malegonian. He know all the words.”
I startled at the revelation, although it shouldn’t have been a shock my dorky stepbrother had a knack for foreign languages. He’d learned Klingon when he was fifteen. He’d tried to practice it with me, but I’d refused to play along with his nerdcraft.
“Your English is good,” I lied.
Irena smiled bashfully. “Oh, thanks you.”
I stood in uncomfortable silence with the bride-to-be, taking her in again.
On second glance, her purse had a logo that read Mikel Koors , clearly a pleather imitation, and the roots of her blond hair revealed she was actually a brunette.
I surveyed her curvy areas, wondering if anything else was fake.
Elizabeth and Will shuffled off the elevator with our luggage and made for the door.
I followed outside to a beat-up van with a yellow taxi sign on the roof.
Will’s friends waited next to it, smiling as we approached.
Kyle looked like a pale beanstalk in a polo shirt and Cubs hat.
Mark’s dark hair covered his face, and his faded Metallica T-shirt could’ve doubled as a circus tent.
We exchanged friendly handshakes, and they explained they’d just arrived from Greece.
The driver slid out and introduced himself.
He had the same hawkish look I’d seen on the face of every other cab driver in the country.
He spoke enough English to communicate freely though, and I wished we’d met someone like him on our arrival.
We crammed into the back of the van and started away in the growing darkness .
“How was trip?” the driver asked.
Dad, Elizabeth, and I chuckled at the same time.
“When we arrived in Pelagonia, our flight was canceled,” Dad said.
“And then someone tried to kidnap Wini,” Elizabeth added.
The driver laughed. “No one try kidnap. I send friend to meet you. Why you no go with him?”
My jaw dropped open. Dad and Elizabeth had shocked looks on their faces.
“When we realized the airport was closed,” Will explained, “the driver called someone to pick you up after your flight. Your kidnapper was just trying to give you a ride.”
I breathed a sigh of relief mixed with embarrassment, suddenly making sense of the strange man who’d tried to pull me from the bus at the airport. Too bad we hadn’t understood him.
We drove up a winding mountain road through the darkness.
Will shared how he’d been searching for us the entire day until he heard about a family of Americans staying at the overpriced hotel.
As tired and irritated as I felt, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Elizabeth doted over Irena, who made small talk in her broken English.
Twenty minutes later we came to a line of cars piled behind a decrepit booth occupied by men in police uniforms. Our driver pulled over.
“This border,” he said. “You get off here. I no document for Malegonia.”
Will smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I have a ride waiting for us on the other side. We just need to walk through customs.”
I followed the others as they exited the van onto the pothole-ridden concrete. Lines of cars streaked back from the customs checkpoint, like traffic at a rush-hour accident. I popped open the trunk and pulled out my suitcase. The driver approached Dad.
“So total cost is only two hundred eighty euro for everything.”
Dad’s eyes bulged like a man being strangled. “Two hundred eighty euros for a twenty-minute taxi ride?”
“No, no,” the driver said. “Trip to border only twenty euro. You also need pay for taxi from airport.”
I could see Dad’s blood pressure rising. “You want me to pay for a taxi we didn’t even take?”
“Driver’s time cost money. You need pay him.”
Dad’s hands trembled. Elizabeth touched his arm gently. “It’s been such a long day, Ralphy Bear. Just pay the man, and let’s get out of here.”
Dad grumbled but counted out all the foreign money he’d exchanged.
They weren’t euros, but the driver didn’t mind.
He counted the money and said it wasn’t enough.
I kept the wad of cash in my bra hidden while Will and his friends went through their pockets and pulled out more money in various currencies.
The driver seemed to have a sixth sense about how much they had left in their pockets.
Once there wasn’t a loose dime between them, the driver nodded.
“Okay, this good enough. Have nice time.” He left us at the curbside next to the customs checkpoint and drove back toward the lights of Achris City.
Dad watched the van depart, a cringe etched on his face. “Why do I get the feeling we’ve just been robbed?”
“Come on, honey,” Elizabeth said. “We’re almost there.”