The Battle of Junk Mountain

by Lauren Abbey Greenberg

  I think about that. Is that how Bea feels with Grandpa gone—broken into pieces? She has always been a collector, and I know her things hold great meaning, but now she’s piling up stuff a million times over. It’s like she’s trying to fill a hole and never reaching the top. When will it stop?

  “Change sucks,” I blurt.

  Linc wipes the grit from his hands as he stands. “Sometimes. But sometimes it can surprise you in a good way.”

  His blue eyes are honest and kind. He offers me a hand, and I take it. He lifts me to my feet, and together we walk back to the cove.

  “So, what’s your next move?” Linc asks.

  In the distance, I see Bea sitting at the water’s edge. “I’m going to call my mom and tell her everything. I can’t handle this anymore.”

  “You tried. You did the best you could.”

  I offer him an awkward half grin. “Believe it or not, I’ve also decided to have another sale, but this time I’m only selling my bracelets. I’ve made so many, I don’t know what to do with them. If I can raise at least twenty dollars, you can have it.”

  He looks surprised. “For what?”

  “To buy that fake medal at the Soldier & Saber. You still haven’t found the real one, and I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Thanks, but I have to tell him the truth.” He lifts his chin and puffs out his chest. “If Second Lieutenant Ogden Badger can face the enemy and get his arm blown off, then I should be able to admit to Grandpa that I’ve lost the family’s priceless heirloom. At least he won’t take off my limbs.” He looks down at them with a grimace. “I hope.”

  At the bottom of the hill, I spot Bea sitting on the sand, her legs splayed out in front of her in a funny way.

  “Bea, what are you doing?” She doesn’t move. I cup my hands around my mouth. “Bea!”

  When we reach her, my heart nearly stops.

  “I don’t feel well,” she says between coughing jags. Her face contorts with pain as she clutches her chest. I squat beside her as she unhooks the bathing cap’s strap from under her chin.

  “Should we call 9-1-1?” Linc’s voice trembles as he kneels beside us.

  Bea shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Just get me home.”

  Linc and I help her up, and I wrap a towel around her shoulders. She groans softly as we inch our way toward the dock.

  “We’re almost there,” I say in a soothing voice. “A few more steps…”

  The warped planks creak under our feet. Everything feels unstable now, a moment away from collapse. I instruct Linc to get in the boat first and together we help Bea climb in. Suddenly, she sinks to the floor and rests her head on the bench by the bow.

  “I’m so dizzy,” she says with a weak voice. “Shayne, you’ll have to drive us back. Do you remember how?”

  My pulse races. “I… I…”

  Linc grabs the motor’s handle and yanks the cord with a frantic sawing motion. “How do you start this thing?”

  “Don’t! Let me do it,” I say, remembering what happened when I pulled the cord too fast. The last thing we need is a flooded engine.

  We change seats. I take a deep breath, wrap my hand around the handle, and pull the cord with a firm, even movement.

  “Come on, come on,” I say through gritted teeth. The motor catches on the second try.

  My legs and knees itch from baked-on sand. I lick my dry lips and order Linc to remove the dock lines. He does.

  Check.

  I shove the boat away from the dock with my foot like I’ve seen Bea do.

  Check.

  I throw the gear into drive. We’re off.

  “We’re going home, Bea,” I shout above the motor’s whir.

  The engine putters until I exit the cove. Then I let her rip, twisting the handle forward as far as it will go. We pick up speed. The roar of the engine competes with my racing heart.

  Our beach towels flap in the wind as we bounce along the choppy seas. Linc holds Bea’s hand. Her face looks sickly white.

  The sun plays hide-and-seek behind fast-moving dark clouds. I scan the coastline for a lone fisherman, a house, anyone who can help us, but all I see are moored lobster boats and a blanket of evergreen forest. This better be the right direction. I can’t get lost right now.

  Stay calm, Shayne. Stay calm.

  I shiver. Little puffs of damp, cool air swirl around me, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. Finally, a waterfront home appears in a clearing. It looks fancy with its half-moon picture window and grand stone chimney. I ease up on the throttle. The motor calms to a bubbling purr, and the smell of boat fuel fills the air.

  I cup my hands around my mouth. “Help! Help us! Hello!”

  Linc joins in. “Anybody home? Please help us!”

  Suddenly, the house vanishes before my eyes. In its place is nothing but a wall of white.

  Oh, no. My blood turns to ice.

  A thick cloud of fog rolls over the Knot for Sale. It swallows us whole.

  • CHAPTER 28 •

  STAY ANCHORED

  The fog is thick like pea soup. The only thing I can see clearly is the water below, flat and silvery green. Even Bea and Linc drift in and out of view. I keep thinking about what Cranky said about the dangers of fog. What if we hit the rocks? What if a boat crashes into us? What if Bea dies?

  Bea lies on the floor of the boat with her eyes closed. Linc put a life vest under her head to use as a pillow and covered her with a beach towel.

  He hugs his knees and rocks back and forth. “I wish I had my medal.”

  “It doesn’t have special powers,” I snap. I don’t want to talk about this.

  “But I feel stronger when it’s with me,” he says.

  Honestly, I wish he had it, too. I could use some strength right about now. The dense air shrouds us like a cold, wet jacket. I briskly rub my legs to warm up. “What should I do?” I whisper to no one.

  I check my phone, even though I never get good reception on the water. Today is no exception; I can’t get a signal. Linc fiddles with switches on the marine radio. “How do you work this thing?”

  “I don’t know. Your grandpa wouldn’t let us touch it unless it was an emergency.”

  “This qualifies, don’t you think?” He stabs at the buttons. The number nine glows on the front digital display. Muffled sounds come from the speaker. Linc finds the volume knob and turns it up. It’s a weather report.

  “Give it to me.” I lift the handheld microphone to my lips. “Help! Help!”

  The weatherman drones on, something about a front coming in from the west.

  “Try a different channel. There’s got to be one for the coast guard,” Linc says. “I can’t remember which one Grandpa said it was.”

  I turn the dial a few times. “Help!” I say again.

  Nothing but crackling static responds.

  I can’t stop thinking about my grandpa. I had cried in my mother’s arms when the fog monster got him. But he’d sounded the horn to tell me everything was all right. I wish he were here, telling me the same thing right now.

  He sounded the horn.

  “Linc, move. I need to get under that bench.”

  He scooches out of the way, and I lift the cover to the storage bin. Under a heap of life jackets, I find a white canister with a bright orange megaphone on top, MARINE HORN written on the side.

  I lift it over my head and press the button.

  HWAAAAAAH.

  The air horn’s super-loud shrill practically blows out my ears. I glimpse at Bea. She moans softly.

  I wait for something to happen: the sound of a passing boat, a faraway voice. Anything. All I hear is the squawk of gulls flying overhead.

  “Try the radio again,” Linc says.

  I hold the microphone. “Help!”

  “Say ‘Mayday,’” he suggests.

  “Mayday!”

  “Say it three times. That’s the universal distress call.”

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!”

&n
bsp; I switch channels. This time I hear a jumble of voices.

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” I cry. “My grandmother has collapsed. Please help us.”

  “What’s your position?” says a male voice.

  My whole body trembles with nerves. “I don’t know. We’re on the Knot for Sale headed for Thomas Cove. We’re in front of this really big house.”

  Linc taps my shoulder. “Tell him 43 north by 69 east.”

  I repeat the information to the invisible voice. Linc and I hold our breath as we wait for a response.

  “How did you know that?” I whisper to him.

  He holds up a crumpled nautical map. “It was in the bin. I’m kinda into coordinates if you haven’t noticed.”

  The radio crackles with static.

  Panic grips my throat. Did we lose him? Please, no!

  A jolt catches us by surprise as the Knot for Sale rocks over a heavy wake.

  Linc loses his footing and stumbles to the floor. “What’s happening?” Pure fear strangles his voice.

  Wakes come from boats. Boats in close range. But how can a boat see us in this fog? That’s exactly what happened to my grandpa.

  “Ohmigod, we’re about to get hit!”

  I yank Linc down to the floor of the boat and we brace ourselves for the impact.

  As a last ditch effort, I lift the marine horn high in the air and press the button.

  HWWWAHHH.

  BURRRR-AHHHH.

  A deep foghorn blast fills the air. Through airy wisps, I can make out the red painted hull of a lobster boat heading our way.

  I gasp. “Captain Holbrook!” I stand and wave my arms over my head. “Over here!” My heart bursts with happiness. We’re saved.

  My Way sounds the horn again. Cranky sees us and waves back. He pulls up beside us and drops the anchor. “Throw me a rope,” he says.

  I toss him one of the dock lines. He grabs hold of it and pulls Knot for Sale closer to him. In one swift motion, he leaps into our boat, and it rocks under his weight. His face is crimson as he lifts Bea into his lap, her tiny frame dwarfed by his large size. He puts two fingers on the pulse in her neck.

  She opens her eyes and two glassy orbs stare back, unfocused. She mumbles something that makes Cranky frown. “She’s not making any sense. Shayne, sit with her and I’ll drive you in.”

  “What about your boat?” I ask.

  “I’ll come back for it later.”

  The fog begins to thin as it lifts off the water. Cranky starts the engine. With him at the helm, a release takes over my body. I feel like I could sleep for a hundred days.

  “How in the world did you find us?” I shout over the loud drone of the engine.

  “Part luck,” he replies. “I talked to Bea this morning, and she told me where you were going. It so happened I was pulling traps nearby, so when I heard your distress call and your coordinates, I knew exactly where you were. I already called the coast guard, and they’ve connected with the paramedics. Hang on, Bea, I’ll get you home safely.”

  We barrel into the normally quiet Thomas Cove for our emergency landing. One angry kayaker shakes his fist at us since we’re not supposed to be going this fast. In the distance, red lights flash, and what looks like the entire town waits for our arrival.

  • CHAPTER 29 •

  NEVER GIVE UP

  A paramedic listens to Bea’s heartbeat with a stethoscope while another wraps a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. Cranky huddles over them like a hulking quarterback. Linc and I stand at the top of the ramp to stay out of their way.

  Behind me, I can feel a thousand eyes pressing into my back. On Thomas Cove, an ambulance pretty much equals the Super Bowl in excitement and viewership. Neighbors gather in clumps and whisper while they stare. Poppy emerges from one of the gossip pods and wedges herself between me and Linc.

  “What happened?”

  “Bea got sick while we were at Little Moose,” I say.

  “Oh,” she says, surprised. “You went to Little Moose? I thought you and I were supposed to go.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t take my eyes off Bea lying on a stretcher, hooked up to an IV, some kind of clear fluid flowing from a plastic bag down a tube and into her arm.

  The ramp sways from Cranky’s heavy stride as he makes his way up to us. “They’re taking her to the hospital, but I’ll go with her. It’s a good idea to have another adult around to answer questions,” he says.

  “Can I go, too?” I ask.

  “Of course.”

  Poppy jumps in. “Maybe she should stay with me.”

  “Who’s this?” Cranky asks me.

  Poppy jams her hands on her hips while her mouth drops open, completely offended.

  “She’s my friend,” I say.

  Cranky breathes through his nose while he thinks about it. “That’s probably a better idea.” He hands me a pen and a tiny scrap of paper from his back pocket. “Write down your number, and I’ll call you as soon as I know anything. Meanwhile, let your parents know Bea’s at Down East Medical.” He clamps a hand on Linc’s shoulder. “Without those coordinates, it would have been very tough to find you. Good work, soldier.”

  Cranky rushes back to the paramedics, leaving Linc looking as red as a boiled lobster and Poppy as annoyed as a wet cat.

  “Who does he think he is?” she says, arms crossed over her chest. “Who’s this? Like I’m some nobody. Shayne has only known me her whole life, you big jerk.”

  “Hey!” Linc snaps. “He’s not a jerk. He actually rescued us on the water. If it wasn’t for him, Bea could have died.”

  “Wait a second.” Her eyes settle on me as she hooks a sharp thumb at Linc. “Are you saying you took him to Little Moose? I can’t believe this.”

  Linc huffs. “It was a good thing I was there. Somebody needs to know how to read a nautical map for crying out loud.”

  Poppy smirks. “Well, a big congratulations to you. We should give this guy a medal, right, Shayne? You really deserve a medal.” She slaps him on the back.

  He jumps as if her hand were a piece of hot coal. “Get off me.”

  “Guys, stop it!” I shriek.

  Murmurs ripple through the crowd as people stare at us fighting. Poppy glares at Linc, and I can tell she’s unsure what her next move is. She settles on brushing imaginary dirt off her shoulder before drifting over to a group of rubberneckers; she’s probably eager to trash Cranky, even though we just told her he saved Bea’s life.

  Linc rocks on his heels as he studies his feet. Finally, he looks up at me. “Did you tell her about the medal?”

  “No.”

  He blinks fast. “I mean, we did swear that we’d keep each other’s secrets. I kept yours, but I’m wondering if you blabbed mine.”

  “I didn’t tell her, I swear.”

  “It’s just…” He lets out a big breath. “I hope you weren’t making fun of me, because it’s not a joke. You should know that. I told you everything.”

  “Linc.” I reach out to him, but he takes a step back.

  “Listen, it’s been a long day. I need to chill in my tent for a little while if you don’t mind.” He turns his back on me and walks away.

  “Come on, Linc, come back.”

  It’s no use. He pushes through the crowd until he can duck into the safety of his tent.

  The paramedics roll the stretcher past me. Bea looks so old lying there with her eyes closed and a skinny oxygen tube under her nose. I brush my finger against her hand; her skin feels loose and clammy. Cranky follows behind, stopping to crush me in a bear hug.

  “I won’t leave her side,” he says, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry.”

  I chew on my thumbnail as I watch the paramedics lift Bea into the back of the ambulance. When the double doors shut behind her, I lose it.

  Poppy reappears just in time to slide an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t cry. She’ll be okay.”

  I’m sorry, Bea. I didn’t mean to upset you. I am so, so sorry.


  • CHAPTER 30 •

  I’M NOT HARD OF HEARING… I’VE JUST HEARD ENOUGH

  It’s all my fault. My secret yard sale totally crushed her and still she took me to Little Moose Cove to make me happy. Am I the worst person or what? In a few days, I’ll be on a plane heading back to Maryland, leaving a bigger mess than the one in Bea’s bedroom. Now that Bea’s sick, Mom will be more convinced than ever that my grandmother can’t live by herself.

  “Earth to Shayne,” Poppy says with a mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “Did you hear what I said?”

  I take my dinner plate and scrape my leftovers into the trash. “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, sure.” Poppy lowers her eyes and plays with the corners of her paper napkin. “But that’s why I think we should go out.”

  “I don’t know. I’m kind of tired.” That’s an understatement. My energy level is somewhere between snail and sloth.

  “Come on. You love Lolli’s. This could be your last chance to go until next summer.” Poppy peeks at her watch.

  If there is a next summer.

  From Poppy’s kitchen window, I can see Linc’s tent across the water glowing in the dark from the small lantern he keeps inside. Has he been in there all this time? He thinks I wasn’t a true friend, that I blabbed his secret. How can I prove to him that I didn’t?

  “The only reason you want to go to Lolli’s is because all your friends will be there,” I say.

  “Okay, full disclosure: I didn’t tell you, but Gio was the one who called to tell me about it, and I’m kind of excited. But there’s another reason, too. You need to be there to field questions about Bea. First she makes a scene at your yard sale and now she collapsed. No offense, but people talk on this island, and if you don’t set the record straight early on, then rumors about Bea will spread, true or not. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

  She offers a hand and I let her lead me upstairs. Muffled sounds from a television show seep under the door of Leanne’s room. Poppy complained to her mother that we were old enough to stay home alone, but Mrs. Quayle, who was running late to her garden club, said Leanne should stay in case I needed a ride to the hospital.