An Unplanned Vacation
Told by Cuba

by Maxwell Singer
Grade 4
IDDS

The first mistake was falling asleep in that bag.  I am a cavy, and I like caves, but that bag was exceptionally horrible.  It ruined my Mohawk and my nails.  And it made me hungry.  And the only food packed in it, was measly granola bars.  They are nasty.  And those nylon raincoats  don’t make me any warmer.

I climbed through the pitch dark bag.  I found Browny sleeping.  She is my older sister.  I think you know the color of her fur.  I looked on.  I found an opening in the bag.  I went and shoved Browns.  “I found a way out of here.”

“Okay, I get the idea,” responded Browny.  I jumped out the hole, hoping Browny would find me.  There, in front of me, was a huge blue counter.  I heard, “Thank you for flying Blue Jet.”  I was tempted to shout to Grant, my owner, but then I remembered that if I spoke English--poof—off to a research facility.  Humans have such limited brains.  They can’t imagine that we animals are capable of all the things they are, plus we can hide seeds, and live off dandelion greens.

“Ah ha.”  I could explain where we were to Browny and was so happy I could prove to her that some things, other than hawks, flew.  I then noticed that Browny was cowering under the edge of the counter.

  “Where’s the bag?”  I asked.

  “You told me to follow you.  What?  Did you want me to stay with the bag?”  Said Browny defensively.  “Should I have stayed there, and let you get helplessly lost?”

  We had lost the bag, and our owners.  That was our second mistake.

  “I want pizza,” I said.

  “Don’t change the subject, Cuba .”  Browny looked up at the huge dome.  This place was a lot like a cave, except for the lighting, all the people, and the smell of pizza.

  “I overhear the word air port.  There is air up there…” I said, while pointing at the sky.

“Port, harbor, dock?  Flying boats?” Said Browny. 

  “Cool. Look magic stairs!”  I scrambled over to them and stepped on, Browny at my heels.

  “Rats!” Someone screamed.  Browny and I looked around, alarmed.  Rats are not our best friends. Rats have some unfinished business with us.  An airport security officer pulled a revolver.

  “It’s aimed at us!”  Browny squealed. She tried to bury herself in the stair. We had reached the top and ran for it.  We saw a table up ahead and ran under it. (Little did we know that we had just run through a security checkpoint.)  The officer now had a horrible headache.  He was trying to follow us under the same table at the checkpoint. 

Mistake number three.

The first sign I read said Flight to Cuba.  “People don’t worship me that much!  (I had heard that there was a dessert named after Browny…) People want to fly to me?”  I found this confusing.  I could see vacationing with myself, I confessed, but I never knew others might want to too…”Let’s go!”  I motioned to Browny.

“So impatient,” said Browny.  “Don’t you see there is a line?”

We walked down the well lit hallway after the line had disappeared.  My white, carmel and brown fur glistened.  I was looking good, except for my matted mohawk.  We got on the air boat.  It was not how I expected it at all.  There were lots of feet and shoes and people attached to them.  There were also lots of places to hide. 

“Well, at least there aren’t any pizza monsters,” whispered Browny. 

“Don’t mention my worst fear!”  I shuddered. The plane was like a tipped can full of people.

  Our worse mistake was over.

  Then a load roaring began.  “I feel dizzy,” Browny said as she fainted.  I decided to join her.   When we woke up, I noticed it was warm.  “In the middle of winter,” said Browny, trying to make a point.

  “Cool, vacation,” I said, not trying to make sense. I still had a couple days of careless vacationing to figure out where we were and what our next mistake would be.