the A box, type Peru IN.
In the B box, type Huntington IN.
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“Actually, he could barely stand up,” Mrs. McDonald said. “He died when he was just twenty-two, in 1940.”
“That’s sad,” Pep said quietly.
“Okay, can we get out of here now?” asked Coke. “This place is creepy.”
Mrs. McDonald insisted on stopping in the gift shop before leaving. She gave each of the kids money to get a souvenir. Pep bought a book about circus animals, and Coke bought a can of Silly String.
By the time the McDonalds got out of the museum, it was afternoon. They still had a long way to go to get through Indiana. So it was quick ham and cheese sandwiches in the RV and back on the road, heading east along Route 24 thirty-five miles to the town of Huntington. That’s where they saw this sign:
Visit
THE DAN QUAYLE VICE PRESIDENT MUSEUM
“No!” Coke hollered from the back. “Not another museum!”
“Do we have to go?” asked Pep. “I never even heard of Dan Quayle.”
“Calm down,” Dr. McDonald told the kids. “We’re not taking you to another museum.”
Instead, he pulled into the Tel-Hy Nature Preserve. The kids assumed they would be observing nature, but Dr. McDonald drove down the road a bit until he stopped in front of a row of little shacks.
“It’s amazing !” said Mrs. McDonald.
“I give up,” Coke said. “What is it?”
“Back in 1960,” Mrs. McDonald informed them, “a couple named Hy and Lorry Goldenberg bought an outhouse for three dollars. They liked it so much that they started collecting outhouses. When Hy died, Lorry donated seventeen of them here. It’s probably the largest collection of outhouses in the world!”
“It’s also probably the only collection of outhouses in the world,” Dr. McDonald commented.
The outhouses were lined up in a row, and the family examined most of them. One of them seated three people at a time, which must have been interesting. Mrs. McDonald took photos and notes.
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In the A box, type Huntington IN.
In the B box, type Kendallville IN.
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“Fascinating,” said Dr. McDonald. “Let’s get out of here.”
The grave site of Johnny Appleseed was only thirty miles away near Fort Wayne, but Mrs. McDonald decided to skip it, because there is some dispute over where Mr. Appleseed is actually buried. Instead, they headed north on Route 3 to Kendallville, home of the Mid-America Windmill Museum.
“No!” Coke screamed. “Not another museum! I’ll die if I have to visit another museum.”
“Someday,” Dr. McDonald lectured him, “wind power, solar power, and other forms of renewable energy will replace coal, oil, and gas. You kids should learn about this stuff.”
Dr. McDonald had a special interest in the subject, having authored The Impact of Coal on the Industrial Revolution .
“Can’t Pep and I just stay in the RV?” Coke begged.
“Fine!” Dr. McDonald said.
By the way, anytime someone says a sentence that consists of just the word “fine,” they mean the exact opposite of fine. The situation is not fine, and they are not happy about it.
Mrs. McDonald insisted on locking the doors of the RV, just to be on the safe side.
“Don’t worry about us, Mom,” Coke said. “We can take care of ourselves.”
The grown-ups went off to tour the windmill museum. Coke listened to his iPod, while Pep worked on a crossword puzzle. After about fifteen minutes, she suddenly looked up.
“I have a bad feeling,” she said.
Coke took off one earbud so he could hear her.
“What?”
“Somebody’s out there,” Pep told him. “I have a feeling.”
They both looked out the windows. Nobody was around. It was just a parking lot, and there were no other vehicles in it.
“It’s nothing,” Coke told his sister. “You’re paranoid.”
But in fact it wasn’t nothing, because ten minutes later a black pickup truck