“We’re here.” The words jerk me awake--okay, I’m lying. It’s not so much the words as the ice cold marbles that are rolling down my shirt. Either way, I’m awake. I jump to my feet, doing a stupid dance to get the marbles out of my shirt. Max merely records me with his phone and I realize belatedly that Panther’s holding the marble bag.
“That was cold,” I complain as the last marble drops to the floor and rolls away.
“Your father told me how hard it was to wake you up,” he says simply. “We don’t have time to coddle you this trip, so get used to it. Everyone up, we’re here.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Jack says, looking out the window, “and we’re surrounded by trees. Shouldn’t we just pull down the bunks?”
“Who said you could use the bunks?” Pan asks. “You’re going to provide your own sleeping places. Now out,” he says, pointing to the door. To my surprise, he pulls Cubby out of his chair and hands him over to me. “Him, too,” he says.
“But--that’s--”
“I hand him to the one that’s most capable in this setting, it’s not child abuse. It’s incentive--if my boy catches a cold, I’m going to be extremely irritated.”
