Dedicated to those discovering
change and uncertainty—is the way.

With heartfelt appreciation to my readers and supporters who contributed
time and talent to help me complete this novel for middle grade readers.

 Copyright© 2025
www.maddie-and-wynn.com

 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-7386668-0-5

Published by: TaLedi Publishing

a division of TaLedi Enterprise Development Inc. (2003)
British Columbia, Canada

All rights reserved

——–

The Adventures of Maddie Leon 
– A Continental Shift –

Synopsis 

Maddie has a passion for fashion and possibility, but her aspirations and plans for the best summer ever collapse when her parents accept a cultural anthropology assignment in Peru. Leaving Vancouver to live in Lima totally sucks!

Then she meets Jojo Kofi Afram, another culturally transported kid travelling from Ghana to Peru, rescues Wynn the Peruvian dog from a life on the street and finds new ways to pursue her an eco-fashion dreams.

Life should be great-but it’s not! Her mom wants her to be more ‘regular,’ she misses Jenna and Grandpa Leo to the stars and back, and now Tata M has the forgetting disease. Four cultures, confusing friendships, trouble at school, and changing family dynamics are a lot for a teen to deal with. 

Follow Maddie Leon online or in-print as she and her companions learn to hang on and let go in times and places of change, uncertainty, and possibility.

———

Chapter one through five are provided below for reader review and feedback. 

A complete e-copy of the book will be sent to all who offer constructive
feedback and/or a testimonial for posting on our digital media sites.

 ———

The Adventures of Maddie Leon: A Continental Shift

Best Summer Ever

Maddie never used to think about sweating. Now she was thinking about his and hers as they boarded down Burnaby Street.

“Look out!” hollered Kevin.

Maddie saw the momma skunk and her two kits scurry under the parked car. Boarding downhill, she had enough momentum to miss the spray. Two lengths behind, Kevin didn’t.

He jumped off his board sending it careening towards Maddie. She stopped it with her foot and shouted, “Don’t touch your face,” as Kevin wiped his face with the front of his t-shirt.

Choking on his words, he struggled to get his t-shirt off, then pawed at his phone. “I need a ride,” he said to his mom or dad on the other end.

“Want me to take your board,” she asked.

“Ya. Ok. See you later,” he said, turning back up Burnaby Street.

The skunk’s spray drifted her way as she watched him go. She felt sorry for him but marveled at the chance to get some good advice from Jenna about being a girlfriend.

Jenna was on the corner of Cardero and Davie, entertaining a small gathering with one of her dance moves, when Maddie arrived.

Completing a high-toe pirouette Jenna asked, “Two boards? Where’s Kevin?”

“Heading home. He got sprayed coming down the hill.”

Jenna’s nose wrinkled. “Gross! When did something so cute become a pest?”

Hands on her hips, Jenna leaned in so close their noses almost touched. “So, tell me everything!” she said. “Are you the girlfriend now?

Maddie, your face is redder than your hair!

He kissed you, didn’t he?

I told you he wanted to!

Was I right or was I right?”

“Did you kiss him back?” she asked.

“Yes, but —”

 “But what?”

“What about Mika? She says she doesn’t like him like that, but we know she does. What am I going to tell her?”

“You’re going to tell her Kevin’s your boyfriend!” said Jenna, taking Kevin’s board from her.

Feeling heavy-hearted and heavier-footed, Maddie followed the bee bopping and board hopping Jenna up Cardero Street towards their school. Her worst companion ANXIETY was throwing so many ideas at her so fast she couldn’t think.

♦

Maddie scanned the task list Mr. James had taped on the gym wall.

Relieved, she noted Mika and Jenna were assigned to setting up chairs for her class, younger students, parents, guests and teachers. She and Kevin were on the stage decorating team. Their team would be a member short. Kevin was most likely sitting in a tub of tomato juice, scrubbing the stench of skunk spray off his skin.

She helped inflate fifteen blue and fifteen white helium balloons. They draped strands of twinkling star lights over the archway they would pass under to receive their elementary school graduation certificate.

Center stage, Mr. James was setting out rolled-up certificates tied with blue and white ribbon, plaques, and trophies on the two tables her team had skirted with their ORCA BAY school banner.

Stepping back, she eyed the gym’s transformation from boring to beautiful. Soon she and her classmates would be recognized as high schoolers. But before that her best summer ever was about to begin. She and her friends were free to board, bike, and boat around Vancouver on their own — so long as she kept her phone charged and was home on time for dinner.

Mika beckoned her to join a group photo shoot. Not ready to tell Mika about her and Kevin, she waved her off and turned to Mr. James, who was arranging trophies on the table.

“That’s new,” she said, eyeing an Orca-whale breaching from its trophy base.

Mr. James hustled around the table and turned her towards the gym, now filling up with students, teachers, and parents. “New, and confidential until awarded,” he said. “Time for you to join your classmates.”

Mika was headed straight her way.

“So, you’re Kevin’s girlfriend now.”

Maddie felt an intense stab of regret for not placing a 24-hour code of silence on Jenna.

“I don’t care. My mom says it’s too soon for me to have one anyway.”

Maddie swung an arm around Mika and steered her towards their parents, thinking she too might not be ready for a boyfriend.

♦

Her thoughts and feelings moved from anxiously confused to sad as she watched her mom avoiding Jenna’s mother. Lately, her mom had become critical of both Jenna and her mom. She called them dreamers, often adding something about them being “destined for disappointment”.

Her dad was the opposite. He always had time and room for others. When her parents weren’t away on one of their research projects, he’d invite neighbours, a friend, or even a stranger he’d met earlier, over for a meal or cake and coffee.

The intercom screeched as Mr. James fiddled with his mic.

“Class Seven. Please gown up and take your seats.”

Maddie gave her parents and Jenna’s mom a wave, slipped into her blue and white trimmed robe, then took her spot between Mika and Jenna. She watched the primary teachers’ encouraging the little kids to stop squirming on the floor. It seemed so long ago she was one of them. The only thing that mattered back then was being with her besties, Jenna and Kevin. They were still her besties, but things had gotten complicated.

“Looking for your lover boy?” asked Jenna.

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Why is your boy-talk gushy or gross?”

One by one, supported by classmate cheers and a few jeers, they went up to receive their graduation certificates. Each took a helium balloon as they left the stage.

Back in their seats, they prided themselves on their elevated status and speculated about the Orca whale trophy still on the table. Most felt confident it was for Kevin, the school’s sports star, who had not yet arrived.

Through their chatter buzz, she heard Mr. James call her name. Jenna and Mika earnestly pushed her out of the chair while Mr. James picked up the Orca trophy. With each step towards the stage, she felt her face get hotter. “Flushing,” her mom called it. Irish Gran said it was “an ancestral gift”. Maddie was certain it was a puberty curse.

Maddie watched Mr. James’ mouth move. It seemed her butterflies had found their way to her head and now she couldn’t hear or understand what he was saying. What had she done? Why was she up here with him?

“Maddie Leon,” said Mr. James, “your passion for fashion and the environment has inspired Orca Bay Elementary and our community to join the global movement to keep unwanted textiles out of landfills.”

He swooped his arm across the span of the gym. “With your donations and help from our neighbours, Orca Bay collected textiles to share with newcomers to our city and resellers. Reselling the recyclable textiles allowed us to top up our music department’s budget.

Maddie’s flushing intensified as the student body cheered the purchase of a 5-drum and 3 cymbals set.

Mr. James continued, “and from the mountain of unwanted clothes we collected, we were able to find cloth and accessories to make costumes for next year’s performance of Downtown Pan. A performance Maddie has promised to come back and help us with costume creation.”

Another explosion of cheers rang out and Maddie wondered if everyone staring at her could see the sweat beads on her upper lip. She was glad the graduation gown hid her sweaty armpits, but suspected her perspiration would stain the vintage lace tablecloth she’d thrifted and refashioned into a shell top for today.

“This award acknowledges the importance of ART in our core STEM curriculum,” said Mr. James, handing her the trophy.

Turning back to the audience, “Please join me in congratulating Orca Bay’s first STEAM recipient, Maddie Leon.”

Maddie saw Jenna and Mika leap out of their chairs. Soon, the entire class, including her teachers, were standing and applauding. A glance at her parents proved their reception differed. Her dad’s smile stretched across his face. Her mom was clapping, but Maddie could tell by the tightness of her face, she wasn’t pleased.

Back in the circle of friends, she let her joy rise, knowing it would be short-lived. Since her parents return from their research assignment in Ghana, her mom had been determined to quash her interest in eco-friendly fashion.

With the ceremony concluded, the grads gathered for group, family, and friend photos. She passed the trophy and graduation certificate to her dad and did her best to keep her mom at bay. She didn’t want to see or hear her disappointment; it would still be there when she got home.

Eager to get on with the day, she kissed her dad on the cheek and whispered, “We’re leaving.”

He hung his long arm across her shoulder and leaned in to keep their conversation private. “Your mom means well. She’s having a tough time letting go of some things she really wants to forget.”

She gave her mom a half-hearted hug, then turned to join her friends.

“Home by six,” she heard her mother say as they headed for the playground to release the balloons and leave their elementary school years behind.

Arm in arm, Maddie, Mika, and Jenna occupied the width of the sidewalk as they followed their classmates to the beach.

♦

Maddie loved English Bay. The sandy beaches with tidal pools and great swimming spots hugged Vancouver’s downtown core. Year-round, it was busy with locals and tourists. They liked to stroll, ride or skate along the seawall, visit Stanley Park and the aquarium or just relax on the benches to do some people watching.

Out in the water, freighters waited to enter the Port of Vancouver to unload cargo from around the world or to pick up containerized goods to take to other countries. Sailboats and speed boats dallied between them, and the larger vessels headed for open water, on their way to Vancouver Island, Northern BC, Washington state, or Alaska.

Closer to shore, paddle boards, peddled floats, dinghies, and little ferry boats populated the inlet.

They marked their sand-plot with backpacks, sneakers, skateboards, and towels. Then all thirty of them lined up for the traditional junior high school baptism in the Bay.

Arms linked, they ran into the water shouting, “Bigger! Better! Beyond!”

♦

Jenna poked Maddie’s leg with her toes as they lay in the sun to dry off. “Why are you moping? He’ll be here.”

“Jenna, do you think my only thoughts are about Kevin?”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“The STEAM award.”

Jenna rolled onto her belly. “Oh yeah! Big problem!

No doubt you’ll get accepted into Emily Carr’s art program now and our school days together will be over.

You’re lucky Maddie. You know who you are and what you’re good at.

Except for being your best model and an excellent dancer, I don’t know what else I’m good at, or what I’ll do when I finish high school.”

“I’m giving up on eco-fashion. I need to find something more mature and regular.”

Jenna bolted upright. “No way! What about our plans to bring back original style, make maddily modified clothes for teens, and keep textiles out of the landfills!”

“My mom says it’s a poor career choice. Customer demands are always changing. Besides, most clothes aren’t even made in Canada anymore.”

“When did your mom get to be a fashion expert?

Oh, lookie there!” said Jenna, pointing towards English Bay Bathhouse. “Here comes your boyfriend.”

♦

She and Kevin walked hand in hand up Burnaby Street.

He talked about the ride order for their upcoming day at Playland while she wondered if he could feel the sweat on her palm.

“What about the roller-coaster?” she asked.

“I’m not riding that old thing. I don’t know what will give first, the bolts on the tin bucket seats, or the wooden track.”

Kevin spoke into his fisted hand with his broadcaster’s voice. “Breaking News. Grade seven grads go down in the rubble of ancient coaster.”

“You should say high schoolers.”

“Either way, I’m not riding it. A sports broadcaster is more appealing with a full set of teeth and good looks.”

She flashed her fob across the apartment’s entrance panel. “No problem. Jenna will ride it with me.”

Feeling anxious a neighbour — or worse — her parents might see them kiss at the front door, she ducked inside, then turned to give him a wave.

Waiting for the elevator, she wondered if she was ready for this change to their friendship. What would happen if he wasn’t her boyfriend? Would they go back to just being regular friends?

Riding up to the 15^th floor, she pondered what her parents would say if they found out. Was she even allowed to have a boyfriend? She didn’t want her best summer ever to get messed up over this.

My Life Sucks

She dropped her skateboard and bag in the entrance hall and stepped into the kitchen.

Her dad held a spoonful of spaghetti sauce in front of her. “You can confirm it’s the best I’ve ever made.”

Maddie savoured his secret sauce. She knew his secret was in the spice — but what spice? Whatever she guessed, he denied.

“I think you’re right. Now that I’m off to high school, I’ll need to know your secret.”

“Not so fast! As your father, I hold all rights to my daughter’s favourite food; making me forever essential to her.”

“Have you forgotten you’re away from me more than you’re with me? It’s time to give it up Papa.”

He planted a kiss on top of her head. “Nope. You must forever await my return.

How was the beach party?”

Opening the fridge, she leaned in looking for something to eat. “Kevin’s dad sent five large pizzas. The boys gobbled those up. I had watermelon and two cupcakes.”

He pushed the door closed with his foot. “Dinner is almost ready. Better do something with your hair, your mom wants to get some family photos to send to your grandmothers. If we don’t send them soon, they’ll think you didn’t graduate.”

She laughed at that possibility and headed to the bathroom to wash up and deal with her messy beach hair.

Bent at the waist, she coaxed the paddle brush through her thick, curly mane. Grains of sand fell at her feet and most knots defied the effort. Flipping back up, her mind was flooded with Grandpa Leo’s words that a girl with hair like hers most certainly had the spirit of a lion in her.

She tugged the brush through her hair, thinking how wonderful it must be to be a lion. If I were a lion, no one would expect me to do or be anything other than a lion. Why should a lion get to be who they are but not me?

Her dad’s shout that dinner was on the table sent her butterflies spinning. Pulling the door open, she wondered why her life had to be so confusing.

She gave her mom a guarded smile, slipped into her chair, then turned her attention to the hill of spaghetti on her plate. Skillfully, she twirled up a forkful, thinking it really was the best spaghetti sauce ever as she slurped in the danglers.

Her mom pushed a napkin towards her. Maddie kept her head bent over her plate, sensing her mom’s tolerance for her was low. Since returning from their assignment in Ghana, her mom had been grouchy, mad, or sad, all within minutes, and mostly at Maddie.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the STEAM award?” her mom asked. “Jenna’s mother knows more about your activities and ambitions than we do.”

Maddie twirled another forkful. “I didn’t know I was going to get it… and Jenna’s mom likes to listen and talk to us. When she was our age, she liked thrifting and refashioning clothes too.”

“And look at her life now, serving eggs and burgers all day. With your grades, you could be a scientist, an engineer, or a professor. Even an accountant or computer programmer would be better than cutting up perfectly good clothes or buying other people’s throw-aways!”

“But I don’t want to be any of those things,” she said, looking into her mom’s matching green eyes that were boring like lasers into her. “I want to design clothes and refresh used stuff. Why is that so wrong?”

“Today’s careers are grounded in science and technology _— not fashion” her mom scoffed. “

“Eco-fashion is science, technology and art, and it’s what I like to do.”

“We don’t always get to do what we want to do. You need to make good choices now if you want a good future.”

“And …” her dad said, roughly rubbing his throat so that it was looking red and pimply up to his chin.

“Say it,” said Maddie, knowing his tell. “You’re going away again! Who are you leaving me with this time? Let me stay with Jenna and her mom. I don’t want a nanny or someone else’s grandmother.”

Her mom slapped her utensils on the table. “Really Maddie! Every time we get a posting, you complain.”

“Most parents don’t leave their kids for weeks or months to study someone else. Too bad I’m not one of your research subjects ─ you could stay here and study me!”

The legs of her dad’s chair scraped the floor, sending a shiver down her spine. “Okay you two,” he said, “let’s focus on the best part of the assignment. You’re coming with us!”

Maddie dropped her loaded fork and stretched across the table to hug him. She’d been waiting forever to go on assignment with them.

“Finally! Where are we going? When do we leave?”

“Maddie! Your hair! It’s in your father’s spaghetti!”

Maddie flicked her hair out of the plate, speckling the wall behind with saucy dots.

“Peru.”

 “Wow! Does GG know?”

Then remembering her best summer ever had just begun, she added, “How long will we be gone?”

“Its the first time I heard happiness in your grandmother’s voice since grandpa died.”

Maddie watched his eyes shift between her and her mom. “What’s wrong? Is GG okay?” She couldn’t bear the thought of her grandmother dying too.

“She’s fine. But. Well, you know. Since grandpa died, your grandmother has been alone and so… we decided this is a good time for us to move to Peru.”

“Move! To Peru!”

“Yes Maddie. That’s what your father said. We are moving to Peru.”

“What about my friends? And Emily Carr? You promised!”

“We found you a new school,” her mom said. “Its an international school. You can study in English and Spanish.”

Maddie shoved her plate across the table. “Study in Spanish! I can barely speak it!”

Her mom’s palm stopped the plate from leaving the table. “You’ve done perfectly well in French-immersion. Spanish will be easy for you.”

She stared at them, wondering if they were her real parents. Perhaps she was part of some weird cultural anthropology project, and it was their job to see how she coped when kept in a state of distress.

“But I don’t want to leave Vancouver! Jenna, Mika, and I planned the perfect summer, and…” Maddie hesitated. What about Kevin?

“And what?” her mom asked. “You always wanted a bigger room and more space. It’s the right time and perfect opportunity for all of us.” 

Maddie wrapped her arms across her chest to hold herself together. This was totally unfair—and just wrong. Except for GG. She didn’t want her grandmother to be alone. Being alone sucked. She should know. Her parents were always going off on some cultural research project and leaving her behind.

“I’ve spent a lot of time finding this school for you. You should appreciate my efforts.”

“This sucks!”

“Don’t say suck,” her mother snapped. “It’s rude.”

 “The school has a theater program,” her dad added. “They’ll appreciate your fashion and design skills.”

Her mom’s laser eyes bore into him. “She’s going for the STEM program!” Looking back at Maddie, “You need to get serious about your future!”

“I am serious! I’m an artist, not a whatever else you think I should be.”

Her mom pushed her plate back across the table. “Finish up. Your grandmothers are waiting for photos.”

Maddie didn’t bother to stop the meatball that rolled off the plate and hit the floor.

She pushed her chair away from the table, “I’m not hungry.”

“What about cake? It’s from the Big Scoop,” he said.

“Oh! Gross!” said Maddie, leaving the table with sauce from the wayward meatball oozing between her toes.

“Maddison Marie Leon.”

She didn’t turn back. When her mom said her full name she knew a lecture, or some kind of correction, would follow. She didn’t want either.

“Let her go Sophie.” She heard her dad say before she slammed the bathroom door.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she ran warm water over her sauce covered toes. The rushing water washed away the sauce, but not her tears or the feeling that her life had just been taken from her.

Maddie’s Moving

Maddie stared at her “Best Summer Ever” journal page. Her list of things to do was not to be. She picked up her purple sharpie and scribbled across the page.

“Jolie,” she said, cradling her one-eared rabbit of little stuffing, “would you leave your bunnies behind? You’re lucky you have me and not them to take care of you. I’d never leave you or my kids behind.”

She spat on the journal page and watched the marker-ink bleed into the porous paper.

Putting aside the journal and Jolie, she dug around in her bag for her phone. She really needed to talk to Jenna. 

Maddie:     JENNA! Where are you?

Why is no one ever around when I need them!

Stretching the full length of her bed, she flicked the reed-ball Grandpa Leo had brought her from his trip to Thailand, off the dresser with her toes. She set it on her belly and took several long, deep breaths to slow her racing heart and thoughts. Then punched out another message to Jenna.

Maddie:     I need to talk to you! NOW!

She used to think being left behind was the worst part of her parents’ being cultural anthropologists. But taking her from Vancouver, her friends, and the chance to study at Emily Carr was even worse.

Maddie dropped the phone on her bed and put the ball back in motion. Grandpa Leo told her Thai grandmothers make balls from reeds, so their grandkids have something to play with or throw at the water buffalo when they get too close to their crops or ball game.

She didn’t have to worry about water buffalo, but she worried about most everything else. Like, something would happen to her parents when they were away on an assignment. Her mom said she was silly to think about such things. But her great-grandfather died on a war assignment. And once, Grandpa Leo got stuck in a cave, when a wall his team was excavating collapsed.

And she worried about Grandpa Leo not listening to GG, who always told him to eat more veggies and less sweets.

And now she worried if she didn’t give up on eco-fashion, her mom wouldn’t like her; like she used to.

She was thinking what a terrible idea it was to move to Peru when her phone pinged.

Jenna:      What’s up?

Maddie:     I’m moving!

Jenna:      No! Where?

Maddie:     Peru!

Jenna:      OMG! Why?

Maddie:     They got an assignment there.

Jenna:      Can’t you stay?

Maddie:     I’m 13!

Jenna:      What about Kevin?

Maddie:     What about ME  THEY’RE TAKING ME AWAY.

Jenna:      What can I do? Did you tell Kevin?

Maddie:     I’m telling you!

Jenna:      What can u do?

Maddie:     Nothing.

Jenna:      Want me to come over?

Maddie:     She’ll say no.

Jenna:      Say we have a project to work on.

Maddie:     Schools finished.

Jenna:      What about our bathing suits!  I can come over early. We can make French toast.

Maddie:     Maybe.

Jenna:      GtG. Moms home. Text me what time to come over.

Maddie rolled herself up in her sheet. I’m going to be the new kid, the weird one, like Mika, when she came from Osaka. She shuddered, remembering the times she and Jenna teased Mika about the food she ate, and they laughed at her when she bowed to the teacher. And what about Kevin?

A knock interrupted her growing worry list.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m sleeping.”

She heard the door open.

“Then who’s speaking to me?” he asked, nudging her over to make room for him to sit on the bed.

From inside her protective cocoon, she asked, “Why do we have to move? Why don’t you just leave me like you always do?”

“Because you’re old enough to come onsite. If you’re in Vancouver and we’re in Peru, that possibility will be lost.

Plus, I want you to know your Peruvian culture.”

“I already know it. We’ve been there a hundred times.”

“Visiting your grandparents is not the same as living there. When you live someplace, you become part of a community, and the community becomes part of you.

I thought you’d be super excited about living in a house. No more waiting for elevators while our ice cream cake melts,” he said, wrapping his arm around her sheeted self, “and GG is making room for you in her art studio.”

Maddie peeled the sheet back to reveal her face and shoulders. “Why did you pick such a weird career?”

“Cultural anthropology is actually a cool career. You get to travel the world and live in lots of different places. Your mom and I have learned a lot about other people’s traditions, food preferences, sports and even fashion. We’ve also made a lot of good friends.”

Maddie lowered the sheet so she could snuggle up beside him. “But you always leave me.”

“True. That’s the negative part. But moving to Peru will fix that. And we can finally go to Macchu Pichu and the textile factory in Ollantaytambo you talk about.”

“And the Inca Museum,” she added. “You and Grandpa said we’d go there to see the artifacts he found in the Sacred Valley. Now he won’t be there. But I will. That’s not fair.” 

He put his arm around her. “I’ll take you to those places and show you all the things he loved about the Valley and the Inca people.”

“Why doesn’t GG move here? If she lived with us, you and mom could go away whenever you wanted, and I wouldn’t have to leave my friends.”

“Not much work for cultural anthropologists who majored in Latin American history in Canada, and besides, I’m ready to go back home.”

“But it’s not my home.”

“Why would you say that? You’re Peruvian too.”

“I never met a Peruvian with red hair and green eyes,” said Maddie, burying her face in her hands.

“You know that boy who kept bugging me at Grandpa’s funeral. He said I looked like a lizard—the kind you keep in a zoo!”

He lifted her chin. “You dear daughter, are like the scarlet peacock. One of Peru’s brightest and most beautiful butterflies.”

She shrugged his arm off her shoulders. “I heard mom talking to Irish Gran yesterday. She sounded angry.”

“Yeah. They’ve got stuff to sort out.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Her mom wants her to come to Dublin.”

“To live?”

“I’m sure your Gran would love that, but she’ll settle for a visit.”

“Why don’t we visit her?”

“Your mom’s not ready.”

“I wasn’t ready for Grandpa’s funeral—we still had to go. And I’m not ready to move to Peru.”

Maddie turned to look at her dad. “Did something bad happened to mom when she lived in Dublin. Is that why she won’t talk about it or doesn’t want to go there?”

“Her best friend dying in the fire was tragic. Your mom told me it was too difficult to stay there. And, well, you know what happened next . . . beautiful Irish lass meets tall, handsome, and charming Peruvian man in Anthropology 101,” he said, grooming his hair with his fingers. “They fall in love, marry, and move to Vancouver where their baby girl is born, and the three of them live happily ever after.”

Maddie gave him a rough nudge with her shoulder. “Mom doesn’t seem happy—and neither am I. I don’t want to leave Vancouver.”

“Consider it an adventure. Chapter two in Maddie Leon’s life story. New people to meet, new places to go and lots of new things to see,” he said, tousling her hair.

“My word! Your mom is right—your hair has gone wild!”

Maddie collapsed on her bed. “Why doesn’t mom like me anymore?”

“Why would you say that? She loves you!”

“Then why does she want to change me? Why does she want me to give up on eco-fashion?” 

“She thinks it’s a risky career choice.”

“How is fashion risky? Everyone wears clothes!”

“True. But the pace that we buy and then throw our clothes away makes it risky. In Ghana, we saw bales of second-hand clothes in the markets. So much is low-grade—torn, stained, even worn-out. That’s not what people want to wear but it may be what they can afford. And much of what we ship to them ends up in their landfills instead of ours.”

“That’s why eco-fashion matters!” said Maddie.

“Designers could refashion the used textiles and clothes into something fun and fresh. Something people want to wear.

Mika’s mom told me in Japan you redesign a kimono until it’s beyond repair—then it gets burnt and you use the ash for cleaning or fertilizer.”

“BINGO! That scarlet peacock is what makes cultural anthropology so interesting! Exploring and discovering how other cultures live, interact with each other and their environment.”

“Then why doesn’t mom love eco-fashion?”

“Because she loves you more. What she saw in Ghana reminded her of how difficult, even ruthless, the fashion industry can be. She doesn’t want your life to be difficult.”

“I don’t live in Ghana. I don’t even know anything about that place. But I know throwing away clothes because they’re too small or worn out harms the environment. I could make a difference—if mom would let me.”

Hanging On

Jenna pulled Maddie’s umbrella away from Mika. “You’re getting all the good stuff! I should get this. I helped Maddie paint those stars.”

Maddie wrapped her hand around the umbrella shaft. “I’m taking it with me. It rains a lot in Lima too.”

She passed Jenna the shorts she’d upcycled for Pride Day. “Try these. They’re covered in your favourite x’s and o’s. Comes with this SweeTART belt.”

Jenna grabbed the belt. “How’d you make it?”

“It’s my old Dora belt. I saved our candy wrappers, ironed the wrinkles and bends out of the paper, glued them together, then sprayed it with fabric glaze. Et voila! It’s kind of small, but I like how it bunches the shorts at my waist.”

Laughing, Jenna wiggled into the shorts. “You don’t have a waist.”

“They’re too tight! And too short!” said Mika. “You can’t wear those.”

Laying on the bed, Jenna took a deep breath and struggled to do up the belt.

Maddie laughed at her scrunched up red face. “Can you breathe, or get up?”

“Blast! Nothing fits me!”  

“Here! Take my mitts and toque.”

Jenna slipped the red felt mitts Maddie had covered with iridescent beads onto her hands. The summer sun bounced off them and a rainbow of colors fell over the three friends.

Jenna plopped herself back on the bed. “Doesn’t it get cold there?”

“Yeah, but they’re too Canadian.”

 “What about these mukluks?” asked Jenna.

Maddie plucked the boot off Jenna’s foot. Grandpa Leo gave her these moccasins after one of his archaeology missions in Nunavut. And even though her mom kept saying she was packing too much stuff; she couldn’t bear to give away anything her grandpa had given her. Hanging on to those things somehow kept him with her.

Jenna groaned and collapsed on the bed. “I’ll be a fashion flunky without you!”

“You’ll figure it out.”

She dropped her legs on top of Mika. “You’re the one who figures it out. I’m the attractive model!”

“Hey!” said Mika, crawling out from underneath Jenna, “your too big for this bed!”

“I’m not taking my Maddily Modified fashion with me.”

“You can’t leave yourself behind!” said Mika.

“My mom says if I’m going to fit in, I need to be more regular.”

“But you’re not regular,” said Mika. “You’re… you!”

“Was me. Now I’ll be a misfit, the weird kid sitting by herself in the lunchroom.”

Jenna wrapped her arms around Maddie and pulled her onto the bed. “I love the weird you.”

“Me too,” said Mika, joining the entanglement.

Maddie’s dad poked his head into the room. “Hey girls! What’s going on?”

“We’re mourning,” sighed Jenna. “Just one more sleep, then we’ll never see Maddie again.”

“You’re on your screens all the time.”

“It’s not the same,” said Jenna, “we can’t hug her… or try on each other’s clothes.”

Maddie’s phone vibrated on her dresser. “The boys are at the bus stop.”

“You okay if I take down your bed while you’re out?” her dad asked.

“Does it matter what I want?”

“You’ll need the floor space if the three of you are still planning to sleep here tonight.”

She picked up her backpack. “Okay, but don’t move my stuff. I’ll finish packing when we get back.”

“Eight o’clock. At the front gates,” he said to their backs. “Text me if anything changes … and not too much junk food.”

♦

They claimed two rows at the back of the bus. Maddie sat between Kevin and Jenna. Mika and Kevin’s cousin hung across the seat in front of them.

Maddie felt strangely out of her body as she watched the four of them calculate their combined funds and tally the discount coupons they got with their report cards. She was going to miss them. HECK! I’m going to miss myself.

 “Change of plans,” she said, squeezing past Jenna to check the bus route map. “We’re going to Chinatown. Three stops till Pender Street.”

“We can’t do that!” said Mika.

“Can do! Remember—BEST SUMMER EVER. We get to come and go as we please. Besides, I want dim sum, not deep-fried twinkies.”

Jenna joined her in the aisle. “Yeah! Let’s do it!”

“What about your dad? He’s picking us up at eight!” said Mika.

“You have sixty-eight days of summer vacation left,” she said, challenging Mika. “Today is my last.”

♦

Sitting around the table littered with empty bamboo steamers, chopsticks, dirty dishes and balled up napkins, they made plans for ‘next’.

“Call your dad,” said Mika. “You have to tell him where you are.”

“What I have to do is keep my phone charged and be home by eight o’clock. Who’s ready for Gastown!”

“Me!” said Jenna. “Let’s go!”

They cut through T&T grocers to buy a box of mango and pineapple ice-pops.

Back outside, they walked past RICE. Once she and Jenna became friends with Mika, her family took them to this restaurant for family celebrations. It was there she learned some basic Japanese and discovered Okonomiyaki. Mika taught her how to make them. The ones they made weren’t as good as what they got at RICE, but they were still a favourite.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she lingered in front of Dressew. Every season, window-dressers put together creative displays to showcase what you could make with a bolt of fabric and some accessories.

Maddie mooned over the three-tier sewing cart she’d been saving for and had planned to squeeze into her tiny bedroom. Another plan busted.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jenna.

“I keep thinking about everything I’m leaving behind.”

“We can still text and screen time. And my mom is going to get me a job at Hamburger Mary’s. I’ll start in the dish pit, but once I’m fourteen, I can serve. Then I can really save! By the time we graduate from high school, I’ll have enough money to come to Peru.”

“Hurry up you two!” Kevin called. “Ol’ Steamer’s ready to blow.”

Arm in arm, Maddie double stepped to keep up with Jenna’s long stride.

They took selfies in front of the Gastown Steam Clock and many more, as they wandered the Cobblestone streets, danced in front of musicians, and applauded the buskers.

At Aujourd’hui they shared two plates of double-fried French fries covered in chewy cheese curds and poutine gravy. Every fifteen minutes, the steam clock blew, reminding Maddie her time was almost up.

She called her dad at seven to say they’d catch the bus home and promised to be back by eight.

♦

That night, Maddie lay between her two best friends experiencing a depth of loneliness she didn’t know you could feel when other people were with you. She practiced her slow, deep breathwork to stop her mind from thinking and worrying, until only one thought remained—their pinky promise to go to university together.

Mika wanted to attend UBC or SFU. She didn’t think her mom and dad would want her to leave Vancouver. And she thought having dinner at home a few nights a week would keep their food costs low. Maddie and Jenna voted for Paris or Ho Chi Minh City. They wanted to live where you could speak French, wear fashionable clothes, and have your own moped.

Neither the sirens nor the hooting and hollering from the party across the laneway could drown her sorrow. She watched the rising sun nudge the night away and thought about all the things that could, and would, go wrong for her in Peru.

Goodbye Vancouver

Maddie sat in her empty room, sketching wilted daisies in her journal. She heard the wheels-of-goodbye approach as her dad pulled their travel bags down the hall.

“Taxi in twenty,” he said, pausing at her door. “You can start taking our bags down to the lobby.”

Her phone beeped as she crammed her journal into her backpack. Waiting to leave was proving to be worse than preparing to go. Every text and phone call felt like she was pulling a band-aid off an unhealed wound.

Kevin’s text read, “friends forever”.

Jenna text, “VC standing by!” followed by a string of dancing and twirling emojis.

“Goodbye sucks,” Mika wrote.

Mika’s unusual expression made Maddie smile—and hurt, thinking about all the people and things her parents were taking her away from.

Pulling herself up from the floor she took a photo of a drawing she’d done on the wall of herself and her parents at the beach. At seven, she was certain her parents would love it. Instead, her mom confiscated her markers, crayons, and paints.

Her mom’s voice chased her remembering away.

“The cases! They and you are supposed to be in the lobby.”

She hoisted her pack onto her back and emitted a groan that sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a girl moving on.

Four large black bags, covered with flags and landmark stickers from around the world, blocked her exit. She used her hips and feet to nudge them aside, then pulled her own and one of theirs into the hallway.

Perched on one big bag, Maddie stared at her shoes, rolled her ankles, and stretched her toes. She was grateful to feel anything other than the pain in her heart and the ache in her belly from her butterflies fighting to get out.

“Take these one’s as well,” her dad said, arriving with two more body-sized bags.

“I know it’s hard to leave,” he said “but it’ll get better. You need to give it some time.”

“Will we ever come back?”

“We’ll see.”

The elevator bell rang, and the doors opened. She dragged two bags inside, knowing “we’ll see” meant no or probably not.

He hauled in two more big bags. “Let the cabbie in. You can start loading. We’ll be down in five.” 

The weight of departure grew as the elevator descended. By the ninth floor, she knew she was going to cry. At seven, she was crying.

Waiting in the lobby for the cabbie to arrive, Maddie could hear Robert, their neighbour playing the piano in the community room. She kicked at the bag in front of her recalling how her mom cried when Robert sang goodbye my friend, at their going away party.

Why should it be okay for her mom to cry but not for her?  Now her parents were dragging her off to where they wanted to be. Her life really did suck!

♦

Squished between her parents, they crossed Burrard Street Bridge. Below, Sunset Beach was quiet; too wet for a beach day or ball-hockey game.

Out on the water, nine tankers waited to unload, while water-taxis bopped about ferrying people to Kitsilano, Granville Island or further on to Olympic Village or Chinatown.

“I’ve never been away on Canada Day,” she said, staring out the front window of the taxi. Tonight, her friends would all meet at Sunset Beach to watch the fireworks. They always brought food to share and got to stay out late. So much for the best summer ever.

Her low spirit sank lower as they drove up Granville Street. They passed Nick’s Spaghetti House, her family’s place for celebrations. Half a block from Nick’s was the Big Scoop. Today, the ice-cream parlor would serve strawberry-vanilla swirls, and maple walnut sundaes with red and white candy chips to honor Canada’s birthday.

The last shop on the south end of Granville was Lucie’s Cakerie. For as long as she could remember, she’d come here every year to pick out her birthday cake. Last year, she chose a ten-inch red velvet cake covered in cream cheese frosting and drizzled with raspberry sauce.  Her friends loved it. She was going to get the same one this year but now she wouldn’t have friends or a party.

With every click of the fare meter, the airport got closer, and the clouds darker. The ride reminded her of the day when GG called from Peru to say, ‘come quick’. She tipped back her head to keep the tears in her eyes and rubbed her stomach to calm the protesting butterflies.

“Will the real Maddie be joining us?” her mom asked.

“Did you know you can get arrested for kidnapping your own kid?”

Her mom patted her leg like she was a pet. “Most kids would love an adventure like this.”

“I’m not most kids. I’m Maddie.”

Her dad put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

Heavy raindrops fell on the windscreen, roof, and road as they ramped onto the airport overpass.

♦

The cabbie parked in front of the international departure doors. She stood on the sidewalk breathing in the ocean air. The raindrops on her face hid her tears.

Inside the airport, she pushed the loaded luggage cart towards the check-in counter. As comfortable as she was preparing for a trip, the flying part, especially the turbulence they almost always experienced, stressed her.

She shuddered, remembering the last time they flew to Peru. Worried that Grandpa Leo would die before she got to hug him one last time, turned her stomach into a knot so tight she threw up her breakfast on her mom’s shoes.

“Cold?” her dad asked as he helped her out of her rain jacket.

“I miss Grandpa.”

“Me too. He was a good dad, and I loved how much he loved you.”

Maddie slipped her hand into his. “I wish things didn’t change.”

“Do you? If things didn’t change, you’d be seven or two, or not even born. Change is always happening. You just don’t notice it when life’s going your way,” he said, turning to the attendant, who scanned their boarding passes and took their bags.

♦

In the boarding lounge, Maddie found an isolated spot. She shed her heavy bag, pulled out her journal then turned to her phone. Scanning the messages, she realized there was nothing left to say to her friends. Her parents had blown her life apart.

 Switching her phone to airplane mode, she turned her attention to the people in the waiting area to play Who Are You? She and Grandpa always played this game they’d made up while waiting for her parents to return from an assignment, or for GG to finish working on one of her murals.

He was best at making up a story about where someone was going to or coming from, because of all the places he’d been. Her part was to figure out what interesting items they carried in their travel bag.

In the boarding lounge, she watched a boy about seven or eight squeeze himself between back-to-back rows of seating. Then, lying on his back, he reached up to pull the long ponytail of a teen sitting in one of the seats.

 Must be his sister. She always wanted a brother or sister, but not a pesky one like that. It would be better to have a bestie—like Jenna as her sister.

She was surprised to see the girl swiftly pull the boy out from his saboteur spot, then slap his belly with the magazine she’d been reading.

ELLE! Her favourite fashion magazine! Mr. James gave her an A+ for her report on Fast Fashion Options, and let it be her personal reading choice because it was available in both French and English.

 Besides being informative, it had loads of pictures and links to eco-fashion designers that she now followed on social media.

Who Are You? She was fashionable. Dressed in a baggy boyfriend shirt, patchwork denim vest, knee-high socks and patten leather boots, she could have been a model or maybe a teen actor. Maddie decided she was going to the one place she really did want to go to–Paris.  

Grandpa Leo promised to take her there before she went to college or university. He said they’d eat chocolate éclairs at the table where he first saw GG sitting with her sorority sister, Sylvie. He said he could get permission to take her into the catacombs of the church where he’d uncovered hidden artifacts thought to have been lost during the war.

They were going to have picnics in the park that surrounded the Eiffel Tower, visit museums, eat Coquilles St. Jaques and escargot.  Maddie had planned to visit art schools in hopes of studying there, maybe even at Sorbonne where GG and Tata Sylvie went.

But now Grandpa was dead, and she was leaving her eco-fashion dreams, her friends and Vancouver behind her.

A pre-boarding announcement interrupted her pondering of the fashionable girl and her own grief. Waiting in line, her butterflies swooped and looped. They and she were heading south. So far south, summer was winter, and no one would believe a red-haired, green-eyed, freckled-faced girl from Vancouver could be even one part Peruvian.

♦

Settled in seat 12E, she connected to her playlist and flipped through the coloring book she’d bought in the airport bookstore. She was grateful Mr. James had shown and always encouraged her and her classmates to do something creative like coloring, listening to music or, practicing belly breathing when you were feeling stressed or anxious. Right now, she needed every tool in her self-care kit to get through the reality of leaving Vancouver.

With her eyes closed she concentrated on her breath as the plane raced down the runway. Once in the air and headed south, she turned her attention to turning the mono-color butterfly in the coloring book into one of Peru’s scarlet-peacocks.

Absorbed in her coloring, the flight attendant’s wave in front of her face startled her.

“Something to drink or eat?”

She glanced over at her parents who were immersed in their own interests. They seemed to forget she was traveling with them. 

“Coke please.”

Grandpa always laughed at how coke made her belch a big one. He thought she should enter the World Burping Competition; the grand prize was five hundred dollars. When they were together and one of her giant burbs erupted, he’d add one or two of his own and declare to any scorning onlookers or her parents that they were simply making music.

The attendant set the can, along with a glass of ice and straw, on her tray.

Ignoring the glass and straw, she drank from the can. As expected, an enormous burp followed. Except for her mom’s laser green eyes boring into her, no one commented or contributed.

No doubt about it—she was all alone.

________________________

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 r. February 2025