Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - BOOCarz

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As you can imagine, convincing my parents to let me
spend part of my summer on a tiny island off the coast
of Wales was no easy task. They—particularly my
mother—had many compelling reasons why this was
a wretched idea, including the cost, the fact that I was
supposed to spend the summer with Uncle Bobby
learning how to run a drug empire, and that I had no
one to accompany me, since neither of my parents
had any interest in going and I certainly couldn’t go
alone. I had no effective rebuttals, and my reason for
wanting to make the trip—I think I’m supposed to—
wasn’t something I could explain without sounding
even crazier than they already feared I was. I certainly
wasn’t going to tell my parents about Grandpa
Portman’s last words or the letter or the photo—they
would’ve had me committed. The only sane-sounding
arguments I could come up with were things like, “I
want to learn more about our family history” and the
never-persuasive “Chad Kramer and Josh Bell are
going to Europe this summer. Why can’t I?” I brought
these up as frequently as possible without seeming
desperate (even once resorting to “it’s not like you
don’t have the money,” a tactic I instantly regretted),
but it looked like it wasn’t going to happen.
Then several things happened that helped my case
enormously. First, Uncle Bobby got cold feet about my
spending the summer with him—because who wants
a nutcase living in their house? So my schedule was
suddenly wide open. Next, my dad learned that
Cairnholm Island is a super-important bird habitat,
and, like, half the world’s population of some bird that
gives him a total ornithology boner lives there. He
started talking a lot about his hypothetical new bird
book, and whenever the subject came up I did my
best to encourage him and sound interested. But the