said.
Yeah, about sixty bajillion times, Sophie thought.
“Everything is not always all about you,” he went on. It NEVER is!
“We’re here to do what Aunt Bailey and Uncle Preston want to do, because they’re our guests. I don’t think that includes standing there watching you stare at the river for an hour, dreaming up trouble.”
Sophie straightened her thin shoulders under Daddy’s hand. “I was starting an idea for our next film.”
“Well, take notes or something.” Daddy stood up. “Are you going to stay with the team, or do I have to hold your hand like a little kid? That would be pretty embarrassing for an eleven-year-old.”
That was actually a tough question. Sophie did NOT want to be on any kind of “team” with her own sister, much less her aunt and uncle. But the thought of trailing behind her father all day was worse. She gave a sigh that came from her heels and blew the little wisps of hair on her forehead. It wasn’t wasted on Daddy.
“Don’t be a drama queen about it,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Just think of it as taking a hit for the team.” He nodded toward the statue. “Let’s go.”
Sophie waited until he finally let go of her shoulder, and then she squared herself off again and headed toward the “team.”
Antoinette tossed back her long, luxurious hair and put on a smile. She couldn’t let Papa take away the chance to pay her respects to her ancestor, Captain John Smith. He wasn’t French like she was, of course, but she thought of him as her forefather because he, like her, had been a pioneer, a taker of risks, a person who stood up against things more evil than good —
“Oh wow—he was a total BABE!”
Sophie glared at Lacie.
“I mean, look at that BODY,” Lacie said. She was gaping up at the statue.
Aunt Bailey sidled up next to Lacie. “That’s what I’M talkin’ about.”
Five-year-old Zeke furrowed his little dark brows at Aunt Bailey. “WHAT are you talkin’ about?” he said.
Mama cocked her head, all curly with frosted hair, and gave Sophie’s aunt a hard look. “Thank you, Bailey,” she said.
Aunt Bailey covered her very red lips with her hand—with nails all squared off and white at the tips—and giggled in Lacie’s direction. Although Aunt Bailey was OLD, like probably thirty, Sophie thought she acted like she was Lacie’s age.
“That’s John Smith, Z,” Daddy said to Zeke. “You remember him from Pocahontas?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zeke said. He cocked his head just the way Mama did, though his hair was dark like Daddy’s, and it stood straight up in coarse, little spikes on his head. “Did they get married?”
“Nah,” Daddy said. “They might have gone out a few times, but she married somebody else.”
“She married John Rolfe, Daddy,” Sophie said. “And I’m SURE she never went on a date with Captain John Smith.”
Uncle Preston gave Daddy a nudge with his elbow. “Silly you,” he said to him.
Then Daddy gave one of those only-one-side-of-his-mouth-going-up smiles that made Sophie want to punch something. He might as well just come right out and SAY I’m a little know-it-all, Sophie thought. Because that’s what he thinks.
“Watch your tone, Sophie,” Daddy said.
WHAT tone? Sophie thought. I was just sharing information!
“All right, folks, now if you’ll just follow me,” Mr. Mouth was saying, “I’m going to take you to the 1607 James Fort site. I think you’ll be fascinated by what I have to tell you.” He puffed up his chest.
“Now, the question many folks ask me is, why do we need to dig up remnants of a civilization that no longer exists?”
“That would be MY question,” Lacie muttered to Aunt Bailey. They rolled their eyes in unison.
“Here is the best answer I can give you,” Mr. Mouth went on. “The present is better understood when viewed through the lenses of the past—”
Sophie jerked her head around, so that her face was sideways in the hood. Even before she could straighten it out, her mind was teeming.
The lenses of the past! she thought. The lenses of my camera— that’s what they are: “the lenses of the past.”
She really did wish she could take notes—although she was pretty sure she would remember a gem like THAT. Fiona was going to be so impressed.
Sophie stood on a low concrete wall so she could get a better view of Mr. Mouth. He was now shouting like Lacie’s soccer coach, but at least he was finally saying something she wanted to hear.
“That’s why it’s so significant for archaeologists here