Ann Martin: Dawn On The Coast

"Sunshine!" he said.

"Oh, Daddy," I blushed. (I would have to tell him not to call me Sunshine when Sunny was around. It wasn't just embarrassing, it'd be confusing.)

While we waited for my suitcase, everyone chattered at once. I told them all about the stewardess. Jeff told me about all the fun they had planned. Dad kept beaming and ruffling my hair. He even started snapping his fingers and singing that old song, "California Girls." He sure was acting goony.

"That's what fathers are for," he laughed.

It hit me how much I'd missed him.

Before we left, we picked up some postcards of the big John Wayne statue that towers over the airport. (I was now in California, all right.) In the car on the way home, Sunny grinned at me and hinted that she had something to tell me.

"It's sort of a surprise," she said, but she wouldn't tell me any more than that. "Just come over to my house tomorrow night," she said. "Five o'clock."

Sunny always did love surprises. It sounded pretty mysterious to me. I wondered what she had up her sleeve.

Chapter 4.

When I woke up that Monday, my first morning back in California, at first I wasn't sure where I was. The sun was streaming in through the flowered curtains — the same curtains I had had when I lived here before. Maybe I had never left? From down the hall I heard silverware clinking and I also smelled something wonderful. Breakfast! I threw on my bathrobe and padded down the long, cool, tiled hall to the kitchen. There was Mrs. Bruen, the housekeeper Dad had hired. I'd never met her before, but we introduced ourselves.

Mrs. Bruen was busy organizing breakfast, so I sat at the table and took in the room. Everything seemed so spacious to me, compared to our little house in Connecticut. The rooms were so big, and the windows . . . Everything was wide open.

Our California house really is cool. It's all on one floor, but that one floor is long and wide and snakes around on two sides. The house is really shaped like a square, with only the top side missing. The floors are all tiled with terra cotta and there are slanted skylights in almost all the rooms. Now that Mrs. Bruen was taking care of it, the place was bright and sparkling.

Pretty soon Dad and Jeff stumbled into the

kitchen. I'd forgotten that I'd be up earlier than they would, with the time change and all. Since it was Monday, usually Dad would be going to work, but he'd arranged to take off the first week of my visit, and that day he was taking Jeff and me ... to Disneyland!

"All riiight!" said Jeff.

Jeff and I have been to Disneyland lots of times before, since it's right in Anaheim and that's where our house is, but believe me, Disneyland is always a treat.

Mrs. Bruen brought our breakfast over to the table. She'd made fresh melon slices, cheese-and-egg puffs, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and wheat crisps. Yum!

"Beats a bowl of dry granola," I said, thinking of my last meal in Connecticut. My mouth was full.

"What?" asked Dad.

"Not important," I smiled.

"So what do you kids want to see today at Disneyland?" Dad asked. "It'd be nice to have some idea before we hit those lines and crowds."

That's Dad. Mr. Organization.

"Star Tours!" cried Jeff. "Big Thunder Mountain Railroad! Jungle Cruise! Space Mountain!" He kept going. "Matterhorn! Pirates of the Caribbean! Davy Crockett's Explorer Canoes! Penny Arcade!"

"Whoa! Slow down," laughed Dad.

Disneyland is made up of seven theme areas, and Jeff had managed to name exhibits and rides in every single one. Dad grabbed a pad and a pen.

"I knew it would be a good idea to talk about this beforehand/' he said. "Okay, let's narrow down what areas of the park we're going to."

Jeff named three choices (Tomorrowland, Bear Country, and Frontierland) and I named mine (Fantasyland, New Orleans Square, and Jungleland). You'll notice that none of our choices overlapped.

"Of course you don't agree," said Dad. "That would be too easy. How about if you each pick two? We could probably manage to squeeze in four altogether."

"Does that count Main Street?" I asked. (Main Street, U.S.A., is the area leading into the park.)

"I guess not," Dad smiled. "Four, plus Main Street."

"All riiight!" Jeff said loudly. Jeff was already starting to get what Dad calls "Disneyland Wild."

"So what'll it be?" Dad asked. "Two each."

"Tomorrowland and Frontierland!" said Jeff. "No, Tomorrowland and Bear Country! No! I

mean, Tomorrowland and Frontierland! Yeah, that's my vote."

My choices were Fantasyland and New Orleans Square.

Then Dad asked us what rides we wanted to go on and what things we wanted see. By the time we got out of the house and on the freeway, we had the whole trip planned out.

Disneyland is really super. I'd forgotten how much I love it. Dad bought our "Passports" at the front gate. Those are the tickets that let you go all through the park and on all the rides. (Of course, you can't buy things, like food or souvenirs, with them, but I'd brought along plenty of baby-sitting money for extras.) Jeff had brought his camera with him and took my picture by the Mickey Mouse face as we walked in.

"Dawn! Dawn! Stand over here!" he called to me.

It's things like that that let me know just how much Jeff really likes me. That was only the first picture of many. He must've taken two whole rolls of me that day.

We entered the park and walked up Main Street, U.S.A., which is made up to look like a small American town at the turn of the last century. It has horse-drawn streetcars and an

old-fashioned fire engine, and because our visit was in the spring, there were tulips blooming everywhere. All the shops that line the street look like old shops, but you can buy really cool things in them.

I dragged Dad and Jeff into three stores. One for postcards (I was going to have a lot of those to write), one for Mickey Mouse ears (I bought a pair for each member of the Baby-sitters Club), and in the last store I got a special present just for Mary Anne (a plush Minnie Mouse doll for her bed).

"What do you say, think we've had enough?" teased Dad.

"No!" cried Jeff.

We had just begun.

At the end of Main Street is Sleeping Beauty's Castle, and that's the entrance to Fantasyland. When I was a little kid, I thought that castle was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I could picture myself moving right into it. It really is fantastic. When I walk over the moat and through the castle, I really feel like I'm in Disney land.

In Fantasyland, Jeff and I went on the Mad Tea Party ride (you sit inside these oversized teacups and spin all around) and on the Mat-terhorn Bobsleds. (Dad let Jeff pick one roller coaster ride and that one was it.)

From there we went on to Tomorrowland (with Jeff running ahead all the way). Of course, Jeff wanted to go on Star Tours, which has a really cool flight simulator.

"Too bad, Dawn," Jeff teased as we waited inline. " 'Children under three not allowed.' "

Believe it or not, that's exactly the kind of talk you miss when you don't have a brother around.

After Star Tours, we headed to Captain Eo, which is a 3-D Michael Jackson video. When we came out, Jeff started moonwalking. Brothers! They drive you crazy, but I have to admit, they can be pretty funny.

"Onward!" said Dad.

We caught the train that circles the park and rode it all the way to Frontierland. That's where Jeff wanted to go on the Mark Twain Steamboat. "Ah, here we go," said Dad. "A ride for old fogies like me."

The steamboat circles an island and I like to pretend that I'm Mark Twain, navigating the Mississippi, thinking up the stories I'm going to write.

"So. We're finished," Dad said as we got off the boat. "We've done everything on our list."

There was a teasing twinkle in his eye.