Free Megan's Island by Willo Davis Roberts

big a pain I was, and I hardly got off the bus from Duluth before he was telling me I’d better not pull any of my crap—same word Lawrence used—on him, or he’d settle me down in a hurry.”
    Sandy’s blue eyes were big and round. “You mean . . . beat you?”
    Ben looked sheepish. “Oh, I don’t think he’d do that. He never did before, anyway. But when he jumped me over some little thing, and I talked back—I was only trying to explain my side of it, see—he grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. It’s easy to tell he doesn’t want me here. I don’t want to be here, either, but I got nowhere else to go.” He finished off his hot dog and reached for another one.
    â€œGee,” Sandy muttered. He gave Megan a look that said, He’s as bad off as we are.
    Megan wasn’t in the mood to feel sorry for the boy, however. If he made everyone annoyed with him, what could he expect?
    They ate in silence after that, finishing off the entire dozen wieners and buns, washing them down with canned pop. As soon as they’d finished, Ben was on his feet.
    â€œLet’s go look at that building site, okay? I think we could make a platform between those two trees—see the tall ones?—and then put up a roof over it. We could get it all closed in, so we could even sleep over here if we wanted to.”
    â€œI don’t know if Grandpa will let us do that,” Sandy said, but he was on his feet, too, following the leader.
    Megan smothered her resentment and rose to bring up the rear. First Ben horned in on their island, and now he was making all the plans. Who made him the boss, anyway?
    She could see why he would get on his parents’ nerves. He didn’t ask other people’s opinions, assuming his own ideas were great. He acted as if he’d just been elected president.
    Sandy didn’t seem to mind. When Megan muttered her dissatisfaction while Ben was up in one of the trees for a closer look, Sandy was astonished.
    â€œWell, he’s got some good ideas, Megan! And he’s got the lumber and tools to build a real tree house!”
    â€œI was perfectly satisfied with the cave,” Megan stated.
    â€œWell, sure, I like it, too, but Ben’s got some neat plans, Megan. And he’s somebody to do things with while we’re here.”
    Why did everything have to remind her that they were here, not at home, away from all their friends, uncertain about where they would go next, and when?
    â€œSee?” Ben called. “We could build a platform supported on these branches, between the two trees, and put a ladder up that trunk. We can use your boat, and get the stuff out of my dad’s garage to start with.”
    â€œWill he let you use the lumber, too?”
    â€œIf it gets rid of me, he’ll probably let me do anything,” Ben said wryly. “Hey, the view up here is great! I can see to both ends of the lake, and there’s something on that little bitty island over there we ought to investigate.”
    â€œThat’s my island, and I put a flag on it,” Sandy told him. “Come on, Megan, let’s climb up and see, too.”
    Megan declined, however. She had no desire to balance on a tree limb next to Ben Jamison. Still, unless she wanted to be left entirely alone, she was going to have to join the boys in whatever they decided to do.
    In the end, they took both the canoe and the boat up the lake to the Jamisons’ log cabin. They sorted out what they wanted of the tools from the garage, which looked as if it had been used to store junk for years; there was no room in it for the black Porsche parked in the yard.
    â€œHey, nice car,” Sandy said.
    â€œYeah. Dad makes good money writing books. Only he got pretty upset over the divorce, I guess, and writing hasn’t been so easy for him on this one. Here, take this saw. Megan, you take the nails and the