Home Alone 2 (3 page)

"Why is it that every time we go on a trip, we leave in a state of confusion?" he asked.

"We'll have all vacation to ponder that," Kate replied. "Do you think everyone's out?"

"I hope so."

"Okay," said Kate. "Lock up."

While her husband locked the front door, Kate ran to the van holding Frank and his family.

"Leslie!" she banged on the van's window.

"What?" Leslie rolled the window down.

"How many do you have?"

"Seven."

Kate ran to her van. She needed to count seven more heads. She started with herself and Peter, then added Buzz, Linnie, Megan, Jeff . . . Kate's jaw fell open. Only thirteen!

"Kevin!" she cried out in a panic.

Kevin stuck his head out from the front bucket seat and waved his boarding pass at her. "Cool your jets, Mom. And this time I'll carry my own ticket. Just in case you guys try and ditch me."

Kate breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Everyone present and accounted for?" the van's driver asked.

"Yes," Kate said "Go!"

The vans roared out of the driveway. Next stop, O'Hare Airport and their plane to Florida . . . if it hadn't left yet.

With five minutes left before departure time, both vans screeched to a stop in front of the American Airlines terminal. People and bags began pouring out of the vans' doors.

"Hurry everyone!" Peter shouted as skycaps in black and red uniforms quickly tagged the luggage and threw it onto baggage carts. The families rushed into the terminal, but Kevin lagged behind. The batteries in his Talkboy had run low.

"Dad." He tugged at his father's tan overcoat. "I need batteries."

"I don't have any," his father hastily replied, but Kevin knew that wasn't true. His father always carried extra batteries in his brown travel bag. Kevin reached for the bag.

"Not now," his father said, pulling it away.

"Come on." Kate tugged at the shoulder of Kevin's coat and guided him toward the doors. "Everyone to the plane. Let's go!"

"Wait a minute." Kevin pulled away. "I really need batteries."

Near him, the skycap handed Frank the stubs from the luggage tags. Then the man rubbed his thumb and fingers together.

"Oh, uh . . ." Frank patted his pockets. "Uh, Peter? Can you tip this guy? The smallest bill I have is a twenty. I'll pay you back of course."

Kevin had heard that one before. Peter put the brown travel bag on the baggage cart, took out his wallet, and gave the skycap his tip. Kevin waited until his father put his wallet back, then he quietly took the bag.

"What's our gate?" Peter asked, momentarily forgetting about the bag.

"E-fifteen. It's all the way at the end." The skycap looked at his watch. "You better run."

Peter ran inside and Kevin followed. The other McCallisters were jogging down the concourse ahead of them. Keeping one eye on his father's tan overcoat, Kevin unzipped the brown bag. Inside he found a Polaroid camera, his father's wallet, an address book, an envelope filled with cash, and a package of batteries.

I knew it, Kevin thought. Still following the tan overcoat, he tore open the package of batteries and started to replace the used ones in his Talkboy.

Kevin didn't realize that his father wasn't the only man in O'Hare Airport that morning wearing a tan overcoat. As Kevin concentrated on putting the new batteries in the Talkboy, another man in a tan overcoat stepped out of a snack bar and started to rush toward his plane. Kevin saw the tan overcoat and kept following.

As the man hurried through a gate and into a jetway, a blonde ticket agent took his boarding pass and added it to the others in her hand. As she started to close the jetway door, Kevin raced up.

"Wait for me!" he shouted. But as he hurried toward her, he tripped on his shoelace.

Oof!
Kevin slammed into the ticket agent and a hundred and fifty boarding passes fell to the floor.

"Gosh, I'm sorry!" Kevin panted as he got up.

"Don't worry about it." The ticket agent kneeled down to pick up the passes. "Are you on this flight?"

"Yeah," Kevin said in a rush. "And so's my family. But they're already on the plane and I don't want to get left behind."

"Do you have your boarding pass?" the agent asked.

"It's . . ." Kevin pointed down at the boarding passes scattered all over the floor.

A man wearing green coveralls came up the jetway from the plane.

"We gotta close up here," he said. "They gotta go.

"But he dropped his boarding pass." The ticket agent pointed at Kevin.

"They can't leave!" Kevin cried. "This happened to me last year and it almost wrecked my Christmas."

"You're sure your family's on this flight?" the man asked.

Kevin nodded. "My dad got on just before I crashed into this lady."

"All right." The man turned to the ticket agent. "I guess you should board him and make sure he locates his family."

Kevin and the ticket agent hurried down the jetway and into the plane. "Do you see your family?" the ticket agent asked.

The plane was a wide body and the aisles were crowded with people taking off their coats and putting carry-ons in the overhead bins. Kevin spotted the tan overcoat. The man wearing it had his back turned. "That's my dad."

"Good," said the ticket agent. "Take any open seat and have a Merry Christmas."

Kevin found a place to sit and put his blue coat in the overhead bin and his father's brown travel bag under the seat in front of him. He glanced around to see if any members of his family were sitting nearby, but the aisle was still crowded and he didn't see any familiar faces. That bothered him for a moment, but he decided they must've been spread around the plane in random seats. Kevin settled back and slipped on the earphones of his Talkboy. It was going to be a long, boring flight, and he figured he'd better entertain himself.

Not far away, another jet was also pulling away from its gate. In the first-class section Peter and Kate were still settling into their seats.

"I never thought we'd make it," Peter said as he sat back and relaxed. Next to him Kate bit her lip and furrowed her brow.

"Something wrong?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Kate replied. "It's that feeling.''

"That you forgot something?" Peter asked.

"I know I didn't," Kate said. "But I can't shake the feeling . . ."

Peter took her hand in his and squeezed. "It's just bad memories. That's all. We did everything, we brought everything. We're all here. There's nothing to worry about."

Kate smiled weakly and tried to relax. It had been a year since they'd all tried to take a Christmas vacation together. She just hoped this one would go better than the last.

As his jet touched down on the runway, Kevin looked up in surprise. Wow, the time had really passed quickly. All around him people were getting up and filing out of the plane. Kevin got his coat and the brown travel bag, and walked up the jetway. He waited by the gate and looked for a familiar face. Dozens of people passed, but none of them were McCallisters. Finally the flight crew came out pulling their bags behind them. Kevin looked back into the jetway. It was empty.

That's weird, he thought. Where's my family? It was possible that they'd all been sitting in the front and had gotten off before him. But then why didn't they wait? Kevin started down the crowded concourse, searching every face he saw, but his family wasn't there. He ducked into the men's room and looked at the feet inside the stalls. One pair of shoes looked vaguely familiar.

"Dad?" he knocked on the stall.

"Get lost," a man's voice replied.

He knocked on another stall. "Uncle Frank?"

"Get outta here!"

Kevin left the men's room. He didn't understand it. They wouldn't just leave him. Not after what happened last year. Back on the concourse he noticed something else strange. Everyone was wearing coats and hats and gloves. Was Florida having a cold spell?

Kevin decided to go to the ticket counter. A ticket agent was speaking into a phone nestled on her shoulder while she typed on her computer. Standing on his tiptoes, Kevin could barely see her over the counter.

"Excuse me, ma'am." His words came out in a rush of nervousness. "How come it's so cold outside? Isn't it supposed to be in the seventies? And also, how come I don't see any palm trees or senior citizens in shorts?"

The ticket agent scowled at him. "I'll be with you in a minute." She turned back to her call.

Kevin sighed and lowered himself to the floor. He noticed that a wall of large picture windows lined the terminal. Through the windows he could see a city skyline looming in the distance.

Suddenly Kevin felt queasy. He turned back to the counter. The ticket agent was still on the phone, but he waved at her anyway. Finally she put her hand over the receiver.

"What is it now?" she asked irritably.

"I know you told me to wait, but this is an emergency." Kevin quickly pointed toward the picture windows. "What city is that back there?"

"New York," the agent said.

New York!!!?

Kevin's eyes went wide and he grabbed his head. "I did it again!"

The ticket agent stared over the counter at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Where's Florida?" Kevin quickly asked.

"About fifteen hundred miles that way." The agent pointed south.

Kevin was in a state of shock. He walked slowly toward the picture windows. There was no doubt that the city out there was New York. He could see the pointy top of the Empire State Building, and the World Trade Center towers looking like two long building blocks turned on end. It was unbelievable! His dumb family was in Florida. He was in New York.

Gradually, the shock began to wear off. That's right, he thought. Those jerks are in Florida . . . I'm in New York.

A big smile grew on Kevin's face. Hey! This could be great!

The McCallister clan stood around the baggage carousel, staring out the windows. They could see a few palm trees and one or two senior citizens. But mostly they saw rain . . . thick sheets of it pouring down like a waterfall.

"Great way to start a vacation," Kate said with a sigh.

"Look at it this way," Peter said. "It can't get worse." The bags were starting to come down the chute and Kate turned back to the carousel.

"Everybody takes their own luggage!" she shouted.

As the first bag came around, Peter picked it up and read the name tag. "Give this to Kevin," he said, passing the bag to Kate, who gave it to Leslie.

"Give this to Kevin," Leslie said, giving the bag to Rod.

"This is for Kevin," said Rod, who gave the bag to Megan.

"It's Kevin's bag." Megan handed the bag to Fuller.

Fuller took the bag and turned to give it to Kevin, but Kevin wasn't there. Fuller turned to Brooke instead.

"Kevin's not here," he said, giving her the bag.

Brooke gave the bag to Sondra, who gave it to Linnie.

"Kevin's not here," Sondra said.

Linnie gave the bag to Kate, who was busy passing out the other bags.

"Kevin's not here," said Linnie.

"Kevin's not here," Kate said as she handed the bag back to Peter.

Peter stared at her.

"What'd you say?"

"I said . . ." Kate's eyes went wide and she screamed. "Kevin!"

The Miami Airport police were housed in a small green cinder block office near the main terminal. Kate and Peter sat in two uncomfortable wooden chairs across a desk from a heavyset, red-faced officer named Bennett, who was making notes on a yellow legal pad.

"Where did you last see your son?" Officer Bennett asked.

"In O'Hare Airport," Peter said. "We dropped the bags off curbside and he came into the terminal with us."

"Most people get separated at security checkpoints," Bennett said. "Are you sure he got through security?"

"I don't know," Kate said, looking quizzically at Peter.

"We were late for our plane," Peter explained. "Everyone ran to the gate."

Bennett nodded. "And when did you notice your son was missing, ma'am?"

"Uh, not until we picked up our baggage here," Kate said.

"I see." Bennett wrote something on the pad. "Has the boy ever run away from home?"

"Absolutely not," Peter said.

"Has he ever been in a situation where he's been on his own?" the police officer asked.

"As a matter of fact, this has happened before," Kate admitted with a nervous laugh. "It's sort of become a family tradition."

"Oddly enough we never lose our luggage," Peter added.

Bennett raised a curious eyebrow.

"He was left home by accident last year," Kate explained.

"That's what my wife meant about the family tradition," Peter added.

Officer Bennett nodded. "We'll call Chicago and notify them of the situation. The odds are that's where he is. It's very unlikely he'd be anywhere else."

In the backseat of a taxicab crawling through traffic, Kevin studied a New York City street map. He'd just visited the World Trade Center and done some sightseeing in Chinatown. Central Park was his next stop, but as he got out at the corner of 59th Street and Fifth Avenue, his attention was diverted by a grand-looking hotel with tall columns and polished brass doors. A well-dressed man in a gray topcoat and a woman wearing a fur were standing under the flag-lined portico.

"The Plaza Hotel." Kevin imitated Ben Brenner's voice. "New York's most exciting hotel experience!"

Kevin was just about to cross the street into the park when he saw a woman with long stringy gray hair and dirty disheveled clothes coming toward him. A bunch of mangy New York pigeons were perched on her head and shoulders, and dozens more clustered on the sidewalk around her feet.