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car windows were so dark it was impossible to tell who might be inside.
    Aunt Lucille appeared at the door now, her cascades of blond curls coming loose from the flowered scarf she had wrapped around her head, her hands covered with flour. She pushed Winston out of the way with one foot and came out onto the porch, brushing the flour from her hands, just as the back window of the Mercedes went slowly down and two identical faces peered out. “This had better be Eureka! ” one of the faces said. “We’ve been driving in circles for an hour!”

Chapter Six
    T he driver’s side door of the Mercedes opened. “Of course it’s Eureka! ” a gruff voice bellowed. “Didn’t you see the sign?”
    A man wearing a chauffeur’s cap above a New York Yankees T-shirt, tattered blue jeans, and sandals got out of the car, stretching his legs and groaning. Ignoring Lucille, Jake, and E.D., he came around and opened the back door so the identical bodies that went with the identical faces could get out.
    Cinnamon and Ginger Boniface. The twins from New Jersey. The twins were eleven years old, Jake knew, but in person they didn’t look it. As thin and small as they were, they could have passed for third graders. Both had short, curly, carrot-orange hair and pale skin sprinkled with freckles. They wore matching shorts and beaded tank tops—one green, one blue—matching sequined flip-flops, and long, sparkly earrings. Their finger- and toenails were painted the color of their clothes. They stood in the gravel drive now, frowning identical frowns.
    Lucille was hurrying down the steps to greet them, still brushing flour from her hands. “Welcome, welcome, welcome, girls!” she said as she went. “Welcome to Eureka! I’m Lucille Applewhite.” She held out her hand to the nearest twin, but the girl kept hers at her side.
    â€œThe poet!” the other twin said, her frown vanishing. “I’m a poet, too.”
    â€œOf course you are,” Lucille said. “You won an award!” She used her still-outstretched hand to point first to E.D. and then to Jake. “This is E.D. Applewhite and that’s Jake Semple.”
    In spite of his fresh Mohawk, the twins barely glanced at Jake. He could feel his jaw clenching. He’d expected, at least, to be noticed.
    The man nodded at the green twin, “Ginger,” and then at the blue, “Cinnamon.”
    â€œWell, girls, you’re a little early, I’m afraid,” Lucille said. “The other campers won’t be here till—”
    â€œBetween two and five P.M ., like the schedule says ,” E.D. said with a familiar edge to her voice. She had sent the opening-day schedule electronically, Jake knew, as well as including it in the precamp packet she had sent to every family by snail mail.
    â€œWe’re really, really glad to have you, though!” Lucille put in quickly. She turned to the man, who had popped the trunk and was hurriedly dragging out blue and green suitcases and duffel bags.
    â€œAre you—are you Mr. Boniface?”
    â€œNope. Name’s Bruno. Theodore Boniface’s driver.”
    â€œI see. We were under the impression you’d be doing the whole trip today. We weren’t expecting the girls to get here till around five.”
    â€œSomethin’ came up, and Mr. Boniface needs me back tonight. We came as far as a hotel in Raleigh last night.”
    â€œ Motel ,” the blue twin said. “That didn’t even have a pool!”
    â€œI should’a been on the road an hour ago. Stupid GPS didn’t work for—”
    â€œI’m so sorry you got lost,” Lucille interrupted. “We sent directions—didn’t we, E.D.?”
    â€œYou should have received them with the schedule ,” E.D. said to the man.
    He hefted a blue-and-green plaid steamer trunk from the car and dumped it on the drive with the other luggage.