“Give it some time. It’ll adapt.”
It was hard to watch the little turtle with the bad flipper struggle. But Honey was right. The turtle finally straightened its path and hobbled its way to the ocean. Despite the hatchling’s deformed flipper, the turtle’s instinct was strong. Nothing was stopping it from getting to the sea.
The first two turtles reached the sea. The minute they touched salt water they began swimming, pushing their flippers even harder than before.
“That’s the dive instinct,” Honey said. “Over a hundred million years old. One minute they’re comical, scrambling across the sand. The next, they’re swimming.”
I nudged Macon in the ribs. “No lessons required.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”
The turtle I was cheering on finally reached the shoreline. No sooner did its flipper hit water than a wave came in and the turtle was tossed back, tumbling over and over.
“Aw, man,” Macon said as Lovie sighed beside him.
“This poor little turtle isn’t going to make it,” Lovie said.
“You can do this,” I told the turtle. I watched the hatchling get back up and try again. Its wonky flipper dug into the sand, pushing it forward. Another wave rushed in, but this time, the hatchling rode the momentum. Its flippers—including the stubby one—pumped fast and furiously into the deeper water.
I couldn’t help but think of my dad. He had lost his leg. Getting around was going to be hard for him, too. But the turtle made it, right? So could he. My dad had good instincts too.
I followed the hatchling into the ocean, up to my knees. Macon and Lovie strode through the water to my side. Waves splashed us, soaking our shorts, but we didn’t care. We couldn’t take our eyes off the sight of the three tiny dark bodies barely visible on top of the water. We watched until they disappeared.
“Good luck, little dudes!” Macon called out.
“Macon!” Lovie said. Her brows arched with surprise. “You’re in the ocean. With us!”
“Yeah!” he shouted, looking a bit surprised himself, and then raised his hands in triumph. “I’m in the ocean!”
I threw one arm over Macon’s shoulder and my other arm over Lovie’s. “We’re in the ocean. Together!”
CHAPTER 25
The Letter
Things work out best for those who make the best of how things work out.
DUMP GARBAGE. CHECK.
Deliver recycling. Check.
Fill water jugs. Check.
Fetch the mail. Check.
I zipped from point to point like a pro. Lucky barked happily as we passed golf carts or bicycles. This was my neighborhood now. I knew all the shortcuts.
I climbed the stairs of the Bird’s Nest, sifting through Honey’s mail. There was the usual junk mail—weekly coupons, real estate flyer, credit card advertisement. One white envelope made me stop moving. It had my name on it. I stared at it in disbelief.
The letter had Dad’s handwriting on it!
I ran up the remaining stairs, Lucky at my side. I pushed open the door, tossed the other mail on the table, hurried to the sofa, and jumped on it. Lucky joined me, settling by my feet with a soft grunt.
My heart was pounding. I stared at the envelope a minute, trying to take it in. This wasn’t the journal, something my dad had written years ago. This was a letter. And the postmark date was only a few days old.
I tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of white paper. Leaning over it, I began to read.
Dear Jake,
I wanted to write you a letter, since you have written me so many letters this summer. I’m sorry I didn’t write back. I was working hard to get better. I had to get used to living with a new leg. It hasn’t been easy, but your mom’s been a great help. And so have your letters.
I’m learning a tough lesson. Things work out best for those who make the best of how things work out.
I can’t wait to see you. I hope to be coming home before long.
Love always,
Dad
I read the letter over and over.
“Dad’s coming home,” I said to Lucky. “And soon!”
I hooted out loud. Lucky cocked his head and lifted one floppy ear. I leaned forward and got licked on the face. Laughing, I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Dad! You’re going to love him. And I just know he’s going to love you too.”
Then I bolted off the couch and ran across the house to Honey’s room.
“Honey!” I shouted with joy. “Dad’s coming home!”
* * *
Later that afternoon, thick, dark clouds rolled in, blotting out the sun. In the distance, thunder rumbled deep in the clouds.
Macon, Lovie, and I took shelter at Huyler House. The ground floor was a large screened-in area with wooden picnic tables and rocking chairs. Faded posters of the daily tides, local fish species, and island event reminders were stapled to the tall round pilings. There were board games, a Ping-Pong table, dart boards, and foosball.
“So, your dad’s coming home,” Macon said, smiling. “That’s awesome news. We’ll finally get to meet him.”
“Yeah. That’s great,” said Lovie, but her voice was too soft to be excited. I wondered what was bugging her.
“Hey, Lovie,” I said, trying to think of a way to cheer her up, “bet I can beat you.” I waved a Ping-Pong paddle in front of her. “I’ll even let you use the blue one,” I added, hoping I could lure her with her favorite color.
“Nah, I’m good,” she said. She plopped into a hanging hammock chair and pushed herself off to swing.
Now I knew something was wrong, because Lovie never turned down a dare. Another rumble rolled through the sky. I turned to Macon. “Are you game?” I pointed the paddle at him.
“Sure. Prepare to get beat!” He snatched the red paddle off the table and started pretending he was playing Ping-Pong with an invisible ball.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” I warned. “My dad and I have played a lot of Ping-Pong together. He says I have a pretty mean serve.”
Then I paused. Will Dad and I still be able to play Ping-Pong together? Or will everything be different?
A flash of lightning was followed by a crack of thunder. The clouds burst open and rain poured down in sheets, so heavy the outside world was blurred.
Macon and I played three rounds of Ping-Pong. I won the first match, but he beat me the second time. I won the final match, but just barely.
“What’s the matter with her?” Macon asked, looking over at Lovie.
Lovie was still sitting in the hammock fidgeting with her necklace. I signaled to Macon and we each pulled up a rocking chair near her.
“Hey, Lovie. We know something’s bugging you. What’s up?” I asked gently.
She only shrugged and continued rocking.
“Did we do something wrong?” asked Macon.
“No,” she replied quickly. “It’s not you. You’re going to think I’m so lame.”
“Nah, we’re friends,” I said.
Macon nodded. “You can tell us anything.”
Thunder rumbled again. This time it sounded farther away.
“I was just thinking how… summer’s almost over.” Lovie tucked her legs into the hammock.
“Yeah,” I muttered, suddenly feeling the storm in my heart. “You’re thinking we’re all gonna have to say goodbye soon.”
“It’s just weird, seeing us all hang out together like it was just another day,” she said. “But it isn’t. It’s a day closer to when it’s all over.”
“But it’s been a great summer,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “The best.”
“Well, we never saw a coyote,” Macon said with a half smile.
I laughed and was glad to see Lovie crack a smile.
“We heard them,” I reminded him.
“Yeah,” Macon said, brightening. “Best thing: I learned how to swim this summer.”
> “Best thing: I got my boating certificate,” I added proudly.
“What have I done?” Lovie said, her brow crinkled. “I haven’t accomplished anything. And in a week everyone will be gone, and then it’s back to school. And…” She shook her head and kicked her legs out of the hammock to get up and walk away. “Sorry, guys. I sound like such a baby right now.”
I stood up to follow her to the porch’s edge. “You did stuff. You found a loggerhead nest. You taught this military brat and that city boy about this wild place. You made the island fun.”
Lovie turned and searched our faces with wonder. “I did?”
“Yeah,” Macon agreed, joining us. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have learned to swim if it wasn’t for you.”
“ ’Cause I dared you?” she asked.
“ ’Cause you nagged me.”
Lovie choked out a laugh. “It’s not just that,” she said, walking over to sit on top of the picnic table. “Jake, you’ve been waiting to hear from your dad all summer. And today you got your letter.” She looked at her hands. “I’m so happy for you. I really am. But I guess it just reminded me of my summer wish…” She shrugged.
“What was your summer wish?” Macon asked.
“Macon…” I tried to catch his eye.
Macon got it. “Was it about your bio dad?”
Lovie nodded. “It’s the one thing I most wished for this summer. To talk to him. See what he’s really like.”
“But Lovie, you can’t just sit around and wait for it to happen,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I wrote to my dad almost every day this summer. That’s why he wrote me back. It didn’t just happen. I bet your bio dad would be surprised to get mail from you.”
“Just write him a letter,” Macon said. “What are you waiting for?”
Lightning flashed again, cracking the sky. Lovie stared at me, her blue eyes brimmed with tears.
“But…” She wiped away the tear from her freckled cheek. “I… I can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, flopping my arms up with frustration.
“It’s just… I’m scared.”
“Scared? About what?”
“About what I might find out. What if I’m just like him? He went to prison for stealing. I got in trouble for stealing the boat. You heard Oysterman Ollie. He said…” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “He said the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He knew my dad.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“You’re no thief. That guy was just being mean. You can’t listen to him. Listen to us. We know you.”
“But what if it’s in my genes? You know, my destiny?”
Macon said, “Your destiny is not set by chance, but by choice.”
Lovie and I just stared at him.
Macon shrugged. “I read it on a poster hanging up in my classroom.”
Lovie snorted. “Thanks.”
“Hey, it’s true,” Macon said. “You didn’t steal that boat. We all know that. I’ll bet even old Mr. Oysterman Ollie knows that.”
Lovie sighed. “Thanks, Macon.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“What… what would I say?” she asked. “In the letter?”
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever you want,” I said.
“Uh, let’s be honest. You’ve never been at a loss for words before.” Macon playfully bumped his shoulder into hers.
“I don’t even know what prison he’s in. My mama never talks about him. She acts like it’s taboo to say his name.”
“You have to talk to your mom about it,” I said. “I mean, even if she hates him, he’s still your dad, right?”
The thunder quieted and the rain stopped. Tree frogs began to croak, celebrating the passing of the storm.
“Do you think he’d actually write me back?” Lovie asked.
“What else does the man have to do?” Macon asked. “I mean, he’s got a lotta time on his hands.”
I cut him a look to signal that it wasn’t the right time for jokes.
“What have you got to lose?” I asked.
“You’re right, guys. What do I have to lose?” She puffed out a long plume of air. “Okay then. My big accomplishment this summer will be to write my dad a letter.”
Behind her back, Macon and I held up crossed fingers. Please write her back.
CHAPTER 26
A New Beginning
Trust your instincts.
“JAKE, WAKE UP!”
“What?” I blinked heavily. Honey was hovering over me. “Honey? Is it time for Dawn Patrol?” I asked sleepily.
“No. It’s ten o’clock. Wake up, sleepyhead. Your mom’s on the phone.”
My eyes flashed open. “My mom? Is everything okay?”
“Why don’t you talk to her and find out?”
I scrambled from my bed and practically slid down the ladder from the loft. Lucky leaped up my legs when I landed on the floor, but I pushed past him to the phone.
“Hello?” I held the receiver tight.
“Jake? It’s me.”
“Hi, Mom!” I yawned.
“I’m sorry to call so late, but I didn’t want to wait. I have some news.”
I didn’t speak. I held my breath.
“We’re coming home!”
My heart rate zoomed. “You and Dad?”
“Yes. He’s being released from the hospital.”
I began pacing with excitement. “When?”
“We should arrive on Dewees August fifteenth. I’ll send all the details later.”
“Oh Mom, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you. Both of you.” I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to cry. “That’s the best news.”
“I’ve got more good news. I got transferred to a new base.”
I swallowed hard. “We’re moving? Again?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” My joy dimmed at the thought of moving to another new town.
“To Charleston.”
I blinked. “Like Charleston, South Carolina?”
“That’s right.” I heard the joy in her voice. “That’s where my new base is located. We’ll look for a place in Mount Pleasant.”
“But that’s near Dewees Island,” I said in disbelief.
Mom was laughing now. “That’s right!” she said again.
I turned to see Honey watching me, Lucky by her side. She was smiling and I could tell she had already heard the good news.
“Aw, Mom. I can’t believe it.”
“It’s true. Believe it! Goodbye, son. I miss you and we will see you soon!”
“Bye, Mom. I love you.”
I hung up the phone and swung around with a hoot.
“Honey!” I exclaimed. “We’re going to be neighbors!”
Honey laughed and brought her hands to her face. “I know!”
“I can’t believe it. I’ll be able to come back to the island to visit you.”
“And I can visit you.”
“I wonder where I’ll go to school.”
“I imagine you have a million questions. And you’ll get those answers. For now, let’s just think about the best news of all. You’ll soon be seeing your father again. Finally. After so much waiting and praying.”
“We both will.”
“Yes,” she said, her smile stretching across her face.
I walked a few paces as my thoughts spun wildly in my head. “I’m nervous, Honey.”
“About what?” Her smile slipped away, replaced with concern.
“Everything,” I confessed. “Everything’s changing.”
“You’ll like Mount Pleasant,” she tried to reassure me.
“No, not that. I mean… my dad.”
“Ah,” she said with a slow nod of understanding. “You’re afraid he’s not going to be the same, is that it?”
I looked away, afraid to answer.
“Because he lost his leg,” she finished.
I sucked in my breath. She said the words aloud.
�
�Yeah.”
“Truth be told, I’m nervous too. Not about your dad being different. I’m worried about the physical and mental challenges he must face. It’s not going to be easy.”
“He wrote that in his letter.”
“What are you afraid of?” she asked, walking to my side.
I had thought so much about this all summer that my worries came rushing out. “Is he going to be able to walk? Or will he be in a wheelchair? Will he be able to do any of the same things with me the way he used to?”
I felt my heart pounding fast as I told Honey my most secret fear. “Is he still going to be my dad?”
Honey reached over and pulled me close in a tight hug. “Oh, dear boy. I don’t know the answer to a lot of your questions. But I am sure of this. You father is still the same man who loves you with all his heart. No loss of a limb could ever change that.” She released my shoulders. “Come sit beside me a minute, will you?”
She led me to the wood table, and we both pulled out a chair. I saw she had a cup of tea she was working on beside an open copy of the Charleston Post and Courier newspaper. Honey leaned closer to me.
“When your dad was young, he taught himself how to ride a bike, climb trees, catch fish, and carve wood. There wasn’t much that Eric Potter couldn’t figure out how to do. That’s his nature. Do you think for one minute that he’s not going to master how to use an artificial leg?”
I thought about that. “No.”
“But it’s going to take time for him to get used to living with a false leg. The change is not just physical, but mental. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so. He’s not going to be able to do the same stuff he used to do.”
“Right. And that’s going to make him sad some days. And frustrated. You too. Jake, you’ll have to accept him for the man he is today. That’s your challenge. Are you up to it?”
I nodded, not knowing what to say next.
“Here’s what I know about you, Jake Potter. You have good instincts. You don’t give up. You persevere. That’s your nature. You’re also curious. And kind. You have what’s called compassion. You care about others, not just yourself.”
The Islanders Page 19