Homesick. E-Book

Kiera Webster

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 108

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Ten-year-old Cameron's life is suddenly turned upside down when his parents decide to move four-thousand miles across the Atlantic ocean to a country he's only ever visited twice. It's up to him to figure out where home truly is when he realizes he doesn't belong here at all, in a new culture, a new language, with fresh faces and unfamiliar feelings.

Leseprobe

I remember the way the world stood still when I heard Mom say it. Three words, said all too calmly, not even to me; just something I overheard.

It was March, maybe an hour or two after I’d come home from school. Fourth grade, it was cloudy that day, but everything was fine. I was enjoying some plain Costco ruffle chips on the couch, scribbling around on one of those old magnetic drawing boards without a care in the world. The doorbell rang.

I guess I get why Mom was so… okay, so nonchalant about it. It must’ve been like going home to her. Her footsteps grew louder as she rounded the cornered staircase, one of her daycare kids in tow. She opened the door and greeted the kid’s dad, made some small talk about his kid’s day, the usual. I wasn’t paying much attention, she spoke to all of her kid’s parents like this, so I just kept crunching.

He asked a question. A question that I, in that second, didn’t understand why he’d ask. My crunching stopped prematurely, my mouth still full of half-chewed chips, I couldn’t risk the answer being obstructed by the sound of me absolutely obliterating my favourite salty snack.

“Yup, it’s official.”

It took a second to process, and when it did, it hit me like a brick. A lot of bricks, actually. Like a whole house amount of bricks. The man said some sort of congratulations, I have no idea for what. My entire life was just flipped upside down, inside out, torn apart, reglued shoddily by a kindergartener with a hot glue gun and then thrown into a lake in not even a full sentence, but yeah, sure, congrats.

Man, I thought the initial shock would kill me. The future, as I could foresee it, disappeared right in front of me. In that moment, I dissolved into a tiny, ten-year-old ball of pure distress… but what I didn’t know then, was that the worst was yet to come.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

1

“It’s not the end of the world, Cameron, just… look at it differently. Like a new chapter”, Mom suggested, frustrated by my indignance.

We were sitting together at the dinner table, not for food, but to discuss the “situation”, if you will. Mom had come prepared with a piece of paper and a sharpie, her brilliant idea to get me on board consisted of a pro and con list.

“You’ve shut down every pro we mentioned”, Dad said, “you won’t be happy if you don’t look at the positives at all.”

“Because there are no positives”, I argued.

“Good lord, Cameron, there are positives. Read the list!”, Dad growled, becoming even more frustrated with my attitude than he already was.

“New village to explore”, Mom began listing.

“Already seen it”, I countered.

Mom sighed. “Okay, fine, new landscape.”

“I don’t like the mountains, they’re hard to walk up.”

She huffed. “New friends, isn’t that cool? Meeting new people!”

“What about my old friends?”, I provoked, “oh, and new friends how? I can’t speak German, remember?”

“Okay, another pro, you’ll learn a new language. That’s a privilege and a benefit!”

“And what if I forget English?”

“What? You won’t”, Mom answered, confused. Fair. I didn’t make any good points, I just wanted to argue. “I didn’t forget German when I moved here twenty years ago, and you’ll still be speaking English at home. Speaking languages is like riding a bike.”

“My stuff?”

“That’s enough, Cameron, you’re being ridiculous now”, Dad barked. “We’re not going to stay here just because you want to. You’ll thank us when you’re older.”

Mom closed her sharpie and dad shot me a stern look, making it obvious that there was nothing else left to say. It’s true that there was nothing I could do, and I already knew that, but somehow, I just couldn’t quite wrap my head around the rest of it yet. Like, that it’s actually going to happen, that I’m actually moving. And it’s not even really about the moving itself… because I could handle moving cities, or even provinces, if I have to. It’s about the fact that I’m suddenly moving four thousand milesacross the Atlantic Ocean, to a country I’ve been to twice, just because.

Thing is, this is home. Even if I haven’t always lived here, it’s all I know. We moved here from a suburb of Toronto when I was four. My parents were fed up with living in a cramped townhouse in the big city and wanted something quieter, not just for them, but for me, too. Dad ended up finding a job here, in a small city of about eighty-thousand people. It was quaint, calm, and safe. Perfect for us.

I barely remember moving the first time. The move was between summer and the start of junior kindergarten, meaning even if we hadn’t left Toronto, I would’ve had to change schools anyway, which might’ve made things easier to digest… that or I just didn’t care because I was so young. Either way, it didn’t bother me like it does this time.

“Cameron”, Mom called out to me after a few hours of silence, “are you ready for Cubs?”

“Aw, shoot”, I thought. I’d been sulking in my room since the discussion earlier and totally forgot about tonight. “Uh, yeah… I just need to put on my shirt first”, I called back, hastily grabbing my uniform from my closet.

The uniform was simple, a pair of jeans, a grey shirt we’re given that we sew all our badges on to, and the classic neckerchief. The old uniform was nicer, a tan button down with a sash and everything, but I admit the new one is more comfortable. Our neckerchief is half green, half red, and honestly kind of ugly. It’s tied together with the ears at the front by a slider, and no matter what I do, the neckerchief is just… too big. Like I’m all necker, no Cub.

“Do you need some help, Cam?”, Mom asked as I walked out of my bedroom, struggling with my necker as usual.

“Yes, please.”

She stood behind me and began folding the neckerchief. “Tonight, Cameron”, she said, only half focused on her own words, “And tomorrow, at school, too. Don’t tell anyone that we’re leaving just yet, okay?”

She slid the slider up the two-toned ears and patted my shoulders.

“…Why?”, I asked coolly.

“Because”, she paused for a second, “It’s none of their business.”

“Oh.”

I walked towards the front door and sat down on the stairs, grabbing my boots and toque. Mom followed right behind and handed me my jacket from the rack beside the front door.

“Not even Wyatt?”, I asked as mom slipped her jacket on.

“No”, she answered, firm in her decision.

“And not Noah, either?”

“No, Cameron. Nobody.”

“But if I just stop showing up to Cubs over the summer, Wyatt will think I died.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll think you stopped going to Cubs. You can tell him the last time we go, now get up, we’ll be late.”

We shouted our byes to Dad before leaving the house in silence. It was cold outside, not quite dead-of-winter nose hair freezing cold like it was a few months ago, but decently chilly. The days were beginning to lengthen a little, but spring was clearly still a ways away.

Cub meet was usually in the same spot every week, only about a five-minute walk from my house if you took the shortcut. It was a very nice, well-kept church on Sunset Boulevard, I’m sure very popular when we weren’t around. We always in the basement on days like today, where it’s too cold to be outside all evening.

Mom and I scraped as much snow off our boots as we could before entering the church. We took off our jackets and hung them on the coat rack by the entrance before following the trail of muck left behind by wet snow boots downstairs.

Everyone was loud, excited, running around in circles as they usually were. I took refuge on the sidelines, not really interested in talking tonight.

“Cameron! Cameron, look, I have to show you something!”, someone called out from the crowd.

“Ah, hi Wyatt”, I said, noticing a thin, tall-ish boy weaving his way through the hyperactive crowd.

Wyatt and I met all the way back in Beavers when we were around 5, maybe 6. We became Cubs together after graduating from Beavers, and we’re supposed to graduate to Scouts together, too. At least we were.

Wyatt pushed his rectangle-frame glasses up on his snout. “Dude, look at this, I got it today in a trade.” He excitedly pulled a trading card from our favourite video game from the pocket of his jeans and swayed it back and forth, showing off the card’s holographic finish. “Can you believe it? I feel kind of bad, the kid who gave it to me didn’t know how rare it is. But I needed this card!”, he geeked.

“No way, dude”, I geeked back, “what did you trade?”

“A grass element and one of my dupe cards”, Wyatt stuck the card back into his pocket, “it sounds bad, but I swear the kid was happy. What about you?”

“What, what about me?”

“Like, did anything cool happen this week?”, he asked.

My stomach churned thinking about earlier today. I snuck a peek at Mom, who was busy talking to one of the other Cub leaders but hesitated to say anything.

“Uhh, yeah, uh, no, no. Nothing. Just like, school.”

“Oh, sucks. Oh! Hey, you know how we went rowing at Brownsea Base back in the summer?”, he asked, geek mode reactivated.

“Yeah, it was really cool.”

“It was, holy smokes. I know you enjoyed it too. I’ve been thinking of signing up when I’m old enough.”

One of the things I like most about Wyatt is the way you can tell when he’s really interested in something. He’s usually pretty subdued, he’s got these sleepy, droopy blue eyes that always make him look like he’s ready for a nap, but boy, do they ever light up when he’s excited. I knew he enjoyed the rowing then, because his tired eyes were wide awake, glowing like a bonfire at a Cuboree, the same way they’re glowing now just talking about it.

“Don’t you have to be twelve for that?”, I asked. Wyatt already turned eleven, but he still wouldn’t be twelve until after sign-up season was over.

“You do, but then I thought, if I wait until next summer, then we can sign up together! Doesn’t that sound cool?”

“Uh…”, I paused.

“Okay, Cubs”, Mom suddenly called out from the middle of the room, where she had set up the flags for opening. Yeah, awkward. My mom is my Cub Leader. “Everyone stand in a circle for the opening ceremony!”

“Sounds cool, Wyatt”, I hesitated.

“What’s wrong? Not cool?”, he asked, slowly moving towards the flags.

“No, it is… But I don’t know if I can.”

“Aw, what? Why not? Got something else going on?”

“I’m moving”, I spat, “maybe. Probably. Don’t tell anyone, or my mom will flip.”

Wyatt nearly tripped over himself. His lowered his volume to just barely a whisper as we inched closer to the flags. Everyone was already gathered around them but us.

“No, you’re kidding”, he chuckled nervously, “you’re just afraid, aren’t you?”

He was joking, I could hear the apprehension in his voice. He hoped I was joking, too.

“I’m serious, Wyatt.”

His grin faded.

“...Really?”

“Really.”

He looked down towards his feet, quiet as a mouse. We shuffled into the circle around the flags for opening ceremony, Wyatt’s sleepy eyes back to their tired usual. He’d never been much of a chatterbox; but that night, you would've thought he was mute.

2

“Why?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Mom wants to go home”, I said.

“But what about you?”, Wyatt asked, dragging a stick through half-melted, dirty late-winter snow, knees hiked up to his chest as we sat on the stairs to the main entrance.

Mom was still inside, putting everything away from tonight. Wyatt asked me to come outside and wait for his dad to pick him up so we could talk some more about it.

“My parents say it’ll be good for me. They said it’s an experience, or something.”

“You don’t sound very excited, though.”

I shrugged again. “Neither do you, and you’re not the one moving.”

“Hello?” Wyatt grinned, trying to lighten the mood, “you’re leaving me to face all these morons alone