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  Kevin's eyes went wide. That was it! He'd heard enough! He was going to find Mom! He ran out the door . . . and ran right into his father. Kevin grabbed his father's leg and held tight. Back in the room, Buzz and Rod were laughing.

  Why did everyone laugh? Kevin wondered.

  "You look like you've seen a ghost," Peter said.

  Kevin just trembled. Peter stuck his head into Buzz's room. "If you played the music lower You'd know the pizza's here."

  "Pizza!" Buzz shouted. He and Rod burst out of the room. Peter looked down at Kevin, who still clinging to his leg.

  "Hey" there's nothing to be scared of," Peter said.

  Kevin shrugged and held tighter to his father's leg.

  "I'm looking forward to the day when you're as big as Buzz," Peter said.

  "So am I," answered Kevin.

  Harry looked at his watch. It was going on forty-five minutes and he still hadn't spoken to an actual responsible head of the household. Two teenagers had recently run past, but neither looked very responsible. Next to him the pizza boy was getting impatient.

  "Don't they know time is money?" he asked.

  I've got the time, Harry thought, looking around. And they've got the money.

  A responsible-looking gentleman now started down the stairs, accompanied by a little kid.

  "Excuse me," Harry said. "Are you the Mr. McCallister who actually lives here?"

  "Uh, yes," said Peter.

  "Great," the pizza boy cut in before Harry could continue. "Because someone owes me a hundred-and-twenty-two bucks."

  Kevin stared up at Harry in wonder. He'd never seen a gold tooth before. Harry noticed the kid staring at him funny. It gave him the creeps, but he had to keep up the charade.

  "And I need a word with you sir," Harry said.

  "My wife will be down in a second," Peter said. "She'll take care of both of you."

  Peter and Kevin left. For the first time that evening Harry didn't mind being left alone. He was glad to get rid of that kid.

  December 21

  Oak Park

  7 P.M.

  By the time Kevin got to the kitchen, there were open pizza boxes all over the place. Everyone was taking slices and cups of soda.

  "Use paper plates, everyone!" Aunt Leslie squeaked. "And don't give Fuller any Pepsi."

  Kevin grabbed a plate and headed for the nearest pizza box, but Uncle Frank put out a fat hand and stopped him. "Parlez-vous fran çais yet, squirt?"

  Everyone stopped talking and stared at Kevin.

  "My name isn't squirt," he said. "It's Kevin."

  "Yeah," said Frank. "Know what they're gonna call you in France?"

  "What?" asked Kevin.

  Frank reached around his waist and grabbed hold of his pants. "Yank!" Uncle Frank shouted, yanking down Kevin's pants. Everyone laughed. Kevin quickly pulled up his pants. He was so angry he wanted to punch Uncle Frank in his fat face. But he was hungry so he went for the pizza instead. In the meantime everyone started talking again.

  "What time do we have to go to bed?" little Fuller asked, his face smeared red with pizza sauce.

  "Early," said Uncle Frank, his face also smeared with pizza sauce. "We're leaving at nine A.M. On the button."

  "I heard on the news there's a cold front moving in accompanied by high winds," Aunt Leslie squeaked. "I hope the planes aren't delayed."

  "Are we taking the cars to the airport?" Heather asked.

  "No, the airport limos are going to pick us up," said Peter. . "It's cheaper than leaving three cars in long-term parking."

  Kevin wasn't listening. The first pizza box was on the kitchen counter, stuck in among the family passports and a plastic half-gallon milk container. He looked inside, but it was empty. As Kevin headed for the next box his mother came into the kitchen.

  "Is everyone drinking up the milk?" she asked. "I want to use it up so it doesn't go bad while we're away."

  "Does Santa have to go through customs?" asked Kevin's cousin Brooke, who was six and still sucked her thumb. No one answered her. Peter waved at Kate.

  "Honey? The pizza boy needs a hundred and twenty-two bucks," he said.

  "For pizza?" Kate looked shocked.

  "Ten pizzas times twelve bucks," Uncle Frank said, trying to be helpful.

  "Frank?" squeaked Aunt Leslie. "You have money, don't you?"

  "Uh, it's all in traveler's checks," Frank said. He popped open a can of Pepsi and poured it into Fuller's glass.

  "It's okay, we have cash," Kate said.

  By now Kevin had searched all ten pizza boxes. It seemed as if the impossible had occurred.

  "Didn't anyone order me a plain cheese pizza?" heasked.

  "Yeah," said Buzz, his mouth Packed with pizza. "But if you want any, somebody's gonna have to barf theirs up because it's all gone."

  Kevin glared at Buzz. The girls at the table were giggling. Laughing at me, Kevin thought. All they do is laugh at me.

  "Hey, Kevin, got a plate?" Buzz asked. Then he opened his mouth and crossed his eyes like he was going to barf.

  The girls giggled louder. Kevin felt his cheeks start to burn. That was it! That was just it. Kevin charged Buzz and knocked his plate of

  pizza slices off the table. As Buzz lunged to catch the slices his elbow hit the plastic milk container on the counter. Milk spilled all over the family's passports.

  "The passports!" Peter shouted, jumping up to grab them.

  Kevin felt someone grab him, too. It was his mother.

  "Napkins," Aunt Leslie was squealing. "Get napkins!"

  Everyone was shouting. Uncle Frank slipped and got milk all over his shirt. Peter was holding the passports over the sink, letting the milk drip off them. Kevin tried to fight his way out of his mother's grip, but she held on tight and started to shake him angrily.

  "What's the matter with you?" she shouted.

  "He started it!" Kevin pointed at Buzz. "He ate my pizza on purpose. He knows I hate sausage and onions and—"

  "Look what you did, you little jerk!" Uncle Frank shouted, holding out his wet shirt.

  "You get upstairs!" Kate yelled and shook Kevin. "Right this minute!"

  "Why?" Kevin shouted back.

  "Because you're a disease!" yelled Tracy.

  "Shut up!" Kevin yelled at her.

  "Get upstairs!" Peter yelled.

  Kevin felt his mother yank him by the collar out of the kitchen. He hated them. Every single one!

  * * *

  "Sounds like a real war," said the pizza boy. Harry nodded and looked at his watch. He was gonna have a war of his own if he didn't get back in the van pretty soon.

  Just then an attractive lady came toward them dragging that creepy kid. Harry smoothed his hair back.

  "I'm so sorry you had to wait," Kate told the pizza boy. With one hand she kept a firm hold on Kevin. With the other, she handed the boy the pizza money.

  "Nice Tip," said the pizza boy. "Have a merry Christmas." He left.

  "Uh, ma'am," Harry said, trying to sound super polite.

  Kate turned to him. She had a lot on her mind and couldn't deal with anything extra right now. "Look, I'm awfully sorry," she said, "but if it's for some police charity I'm afraid this just isn't the right time. We're all going out of town tomorrow and it's just crazy around here. My husband's brother was transferred to Paris during the summer and his daughter goes to college here and his son is finishing high school and is staying with my brother-in-law"

  "l understand, Harry said. I just—"

  "So as a Christmas present," Kate continued, "my husband's brother gave us a trip to Paris so we can all be together for the holidays. Anyway we're leaving for Paris in the morning . . ."

  "No kidding?" Harry smiled. "All of you? How nice."

  "Yes," said Kate. "And I realize that not everyone is fortunate enough to go to Paris for the holidays and . . . oh . . . it's Christmastime, what am I saying?"

  Still holding on to Kevin's collar, she reached into her bag and came up with twenty dollars.

  "Here," she said, handing the money to Harry. "May you and the police department have a merry Christmas."

  "Uh, thanks, Mrs. McCallister." Harry stared down at the bills in his hand.

  But Kate was already dragging Kevin upstairs. "And now I'm going to have a word with you."

  Harry let himself out of the house and strolled across the lawn toward the Van, loosening the collar on his fake police uniform, As he pulled open the door of the van he noticed that Marv was sitting in the driver's seat, shivering.

  "Why didn't you keep the heat on?" Harry asked.

  "Cause the carbon monoxide seeps in when you just sit," Marv said through chattering teeth. "So it was either die of carbon monoxide poisoning or freeze to death. Now how about telling me why you took so long?"

  "They're crazy in there," said Harry. "But the good news is tomorrow morning they're all going to Paris."

  "All of 'em?" Marv asked.

  "Yeah. So now we know five families on this block are gonna be gone for the holidays," Harry Said. "Only that weird guy Marley's gonna be around and he looks pretty flaky to me."

  "So we can rob houses and there'll be no one around to notice," Marv said happily.

  "And let me tell you," said Harry, feeling the twenty dollars in his pocket. "That McCallister house is gonna be a good one."

  December 21

  Oak Park

  7:30 P.M.

  Kate was at her wit's end. "It's getting late," she told Kevin angrily. "We're leaving for Paris first thing in the morning and you're driving everyone crazy."

  "You're all driving me crazy," Kevin yelled back.

  Kate pulled him into the upstairs hallway. She took a breath and tried to control her ternper. The truth was, she hated punishing any o
f her kids. If Kevin would just say he was sorry and start to act like a human being instead of a spoiled brat, she would be happy to let him go.

  "Now listen to me, young man," she said sternly. "There are fifteen people in this house. And you're the only one who has to make trouble."

  "I'm the only one getting picked on," Kevin wailed.

  "You're the only one acting up," Kate snapped back, feeling her blood begin to boil. "Now get upstairs."

  "I am upstairs, dummy."

  That was it! Kate had never felt angrier. How had this . . . this monster come into their family? There must've been a mistake at the hospital. Babies were switched or something. Anyway, she knew what she had to do.

  "Come with me," she said, grabbing him by the collar.

  "Where?" Kevin gasped.

  "You know where." Kate pulled open the door at the end of the hallway. A narrow flight of stairs led up to the attic. Kevin's eyes grew large.

  "The attic?" he whimpered.

  "Go!" Kate pointed up the stairs. Kevin looked up into the attic. It was dark and empty. There were noises up there.

  "It's scary, Mom" His voice was filled with pleading, but Kate's was filled with resolve.

  "You should have thought of that before you lost your temper," she scolded.

  "I'm sorry," Kevin whispered. He thought about throwing himself at her feet and begging for mercy.

  "It's too late for that," Kate said firmly, "Now go."

  Kevin pursed his lips together angrily. The remorseful approach wasn't going to work.

  "Everybody in this family hates me!" he shouted.

  "Then maybe you should ask Santa Claus for a new family," his mother suggested.

  "I don't want a new family," Kevin cried as he climbed the first step. "I don't want any family! Families stink!"

  "Go!" his mother shouted. "And you stay up there. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night!"

  Kevin took another step. "I don't want to ever see you again for the rest of my life and I don't want to see anybody else either!"

  Kate watched her angry little boy climb up the steps. She felt a strange mixture of frustration and heartache.

  "I hope you don't mean that," she said. "You'd feel pretty sad if you woke up tomorrow and we were all gone."

  "No, I wouldn't," Kevin said, and slammed the attic door. "I hope I never see any of you jerks again!"

  December 22

  Oak Park

  3:15 A.M.

  That night strong gusts of cold wind blew through the Chicago area. On Kevin's street the trees swayed and branches rattled, Christmas decorations blew over and a plastic Santa tumbled across a yard. Broken twigs clattered against the roof of the McCallister house, waking Kevin in the attic.

  Kevin sat up. He was still angry. He'd show them. He'd run away. He looked across the shadowy attic at the big metal hook and escape rope near the window. His father kept the rope in case there was a fire and someone had to escape by crawling out onto the roof and lowering himself down. That's what he'd do. He'd crawl out the window, lower himself to the oak tree next to the house, and hide all night in his tree house. Tomorrow morning when his mother couldn't find him, she'd think he'd run away. That would teach her to put him in the attic.

  But Kevin didn't move. The wind and noises outside scared him. The thought of spending the night in his tree house was scary, too. And so was the idea of climbing out the attic window. Kevin sighed and looked at the attic door. He wasn't going to show them anything. And all he did when he tried to show them was get into more trouble. Why did he have to say such mean things? He knew it just hurt his mother's feelings. What good did that do?

  It did no good at all. All it meant was now he had to spend the night in this scary attic.

  Kevin lay down again and shut his eyes. Outside the wind blew even louder. Somewhere in the night a loose shutter banged. A few doors down from the McCallisters', a large branch on a tall elm snapped and fell across the telephone and power lines; bringing them down with a shower of sparks.

  In every house on Kevin's side of the street the refrigerators shut off, the burglar alarms deactivated and the electric clocks stopped. Including the alarm clock beside Peter and Kate McCallister's bed.

  December 22

  Oak Park

  9 A.M.

  Kate McCallister was dreaming about Paris. She and Peter were in an elegant hotel suite overlooking the Seine. The French doors to the balcony were open and fragrant French air billowed in. Room service had just left a tray of café au lait, fresh croissants and assorted

  jams. . . .

  But someone was knocking loudly on their hotel room door.

  Why are they knocking so loudly? Kate wondered in her dream. She rolled over in her bed. The dream slowly disappeared, but the knocking didn't. Bang! Bang! Bang!

  "Hello!?" someone shouted outside. "Is anyone there? It s the airport limo!"

  Kate's eyes opened. Airport limo? Oh no! She sat straight up in bed and stared at the alarm clock. 3:17? It couldn't be. It was light outside. Downstairs the banging and shouting continued.

  "The electricity must've gone off during the night," Kate gasped as she shook Peter's shoulder. She grabbed her wristwatch from the night table. The big hand was on the 12. The little hand was on the 9. Peter rubbed his eyes.

  "Hurry!" Kate said. "We're late!"

  Seconds later Kate was pulling on her robe and flying through the house like a maniac, shouting and banging on doors as she went.

  "Wake up! Everybody, up, up!" She got to the front door and told the two van drivers her family was running a little behind schedule, but they'd be right down. There were two other vans parked out on the street. One was from Commonwealth Power and Light. The other was from the OHKAY Heating and Plumbing Company. But Kate didn't have time to wonder about that now.

  In bedrooms all over the house people hurriedly dressed and grabbed their bags. Kate ran back upstairs to dress herself. Heather was coming down the stairs and Kate grabbed her.

  "Heather, you have to do a head count. Make sure everyone's in the vans," Kate said. Then she saw Peter lugging their suitcases out onto the upstairs landing.

  "Have you got the tickets and the passports?" Kate shouted.

  "I thought you had 'em," Peter shouted back.

  "I have them!" Aunt Leslie squeaked,

  "Yours or ours?" Kate shouted.

  "All of them," Aunt Leslie squeaked back. "I know because they smell of sour milk."

  As sleepy-faced kids began to file out of the house, dragging their bags across the lawn to the airport vans, it attracted the attention of little Mitch Murphy, who lived in the house next door. Mitch was seven years old and about the same size as Kevin. In a few hours he and his parents would be leaving for Orlando, Florida. But Mitch had some time to kill and the airport vans looked neat.

  "These vans are cool," Mitch said as he wandered over and watched the van drivers hastily load luggage inside.

  "No way on earth we're gonna catch that plane," Uncle Frank wheezed as he came out of the house with a suitcase.

  "Think positive," said Peter.

  Mitch stuck his head in one of the vans. He'd never seen one so long. You could get a whole baseball team inside.

  "Frank?" Aunt Leslie was shouting. "Do you have the money?"

  "Darn," Frank mumbled and jogged back inside. "I left it upstairs."

  "Come on, everyone," Heather shouted. "Line up so I can get a count."

  The kids gathered beside the van. Mitch Murphy was there too, looking inside. Cool dashboard, he thought.

  "One, two, three, four . . ." Heather quickly began to count the kids, including Mitch, whose back was turned so she couldn't see his face.

  "Ninety-three, six hundred and five, elevendy-trillion," Buzz yelled.

  "Don't be a moron, Buzz," Heather snapped. She finished the head count. Everyone was there. "Okay, get in! Half in this van, half in the other."

  The kids all climbed into the vans. Mitch Murphy turned around and headed back to his house. A moment later Kate locked the front door and ran toward the lead van.

  "Heather!" she gasped. "You counted everyone?"