THE COAST GUARD helicopter set down at the air station on the far side of Youngs Bay, away from all the regatta events in town. The crew waited until the rotors stopped and then slid open the door. Jet’s dad stepped out of the air-station office.
“Helmsman Ellstrom!” he bellowed, crossing the ground between them with long strides. “What would I tell your mother?!” He scooped her up in a hug as if she were younger than Oliver. His growl completely stopped working. “If I lost you…my Jet,” he whispered in her ear.
Jet held him and squeezed her eyes shut. He was her lighthouse; she’d always know where he stood. The stress of the day drained away as Jet leaned her head against his shoulder. Eventually he set her on the ground, cupped his hand under her chin, and gave her bruised face a stern look.
“You haven’t taken up boxing, have you?” The growl was back.
“Boxing? No. Absolutely not. Promise. Swear!”
“Good! Because I am not explaining a boxing career to your mother!”
He walked them over to a bench at the edge of the bay, sat down heavily, and patted the spot beside him. Jet kicked off her wet shoes and shrugged out of her life jacket.
“Well, out with it.”
Dad fixed his gaze on the water, leaned his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together, a pose Jet recognized as one she took herself when she felt like hitting somebody and was trying not to. Any thought she’d had about bragging about the daring rescue she had pulled off flew right out of her head.
“I sailed into the shipping lane,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. Jet felt her pride tug her to make an excuse, to explain that she’d been following a more important objective than the rules of right-of-way. She pushed those thoughts away. Her dad knew all about pride. He wanted the truth.
“I should have yielded to the larger vessel, and I didn’t,” she went on. “I sailed too close. I lost the wind. I struck a container ship. I abandoned the Saga and made an unauthorized boarding of a commercial vessel.” Jet pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight. “I sank your boat. It’s gone. I’m sorry.”
“Anything else?”
Jet rested her head on her knees. Ran over the events of the race. Thought through them again. And when she understood, it was like a slap she didn’t see coming.
Kai.
Aunt Hanako and Uncle Lars were following the race. The entire staff at the power plant was rooting for him. They were waiting by their computers for pictures and texts to come in. The final casualty reports had been made for the earthquake and tsunami: Twenty-seven of those lost were children. This race was Uncle Lars’s and Aunt Hanako’s day off, their reason to cheer, their reminder of happier summers. Jet felt like she’d swallowed sand.
“I put Kai in danger,” she said hoarsely. “I had no right. Not even to save someone else’s life.”
“See that you don’t forget it.”
“Never.”
Jet rubbed her nose on the back of her hand. Her first shot at captaining a race, and she’d risked her crew. What if it had all gone wrong? She’d thrown the dice without thinking once about Kai’s safety or his family. She stole a look at her dad. He wasn’t any older than her friends’ fathers, but he was grayer and more wrinkly. All his rowdiness after a rough bar crossing, his bluster and jokes, they had seemed childish to her before. She could see now how they helped him let go of the weight of command. The familiar sound track of wind and water played as she and her dad sat side by side.
“My Jet,” he said. “I’ve lost you already, haven’t I?”
“Lost me?”
“To the sea,” he said. He gave a heavy sigh.
In all her dreaming about a life at sea, it had been easy not to think about her mom, sitting at the drawing table, watching the weather, and wondering if her girl was safe. If Jet made her own dreams come true, her parents would never be free of worrying. Jet would need years of at-sea time before she could even try for a piloting spot in Astoria. Her command could happen anywhere in the world. It could happen in places where it was much harder to be a woman in a man’s job.
“You could be anything, you know,” Dad said. “You’re smart, you’re a hard worker, your grades are pretty good in spite of that little daydreaming habit you’ve got.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. Jet rolled her eyes. Her teachers were always accusing her of daydreaming.
“There are easier ways to make a living,” Dad went on. “You could become a doctor, even a surgeon, in less time than it will take you to become a bar pilot.”
“I know.”
“You know that in spite of Captain Dempsey’s outstanding record, there are still people who think a woman has no place at the helm of a ship?”
Jet felt her face flush. “Is that why you want Kai to be the pilot?”
“Ah,” Dad said, standing up, “your great-grandfather’s compass.”
Jet scrubbed her nose with her fist and walked to the water’s edge.
“Your grandpa Lars’s compass,” he said with particular emphasis on the name. “My brother asked me to keep it for him when he joined the navy.” He took a few steps closer to Jet. “Compasses aren’t useful in a submarine, and it was too precious to risk losing. I’ve been keeping it for his child—son or daughter—all these years because I promised him I would.”
Jet took a step away from her dad, ashamed at her tears. Knowing she had no right to it didn’t make her want the compass less. She wanted—needed—one solid thing to prove her ambition justified no matter how hard it would be to win a bar pilot’s license in the end. He dropped a hand on Jet’s shoulder and turned her toward him.
“But even if the compass was mine to give,” he said, gently, “I’d see it in Kai’s hand before yours. Look at you. You know exactly where you want to go in life. Do you have any idea how rare that is? How lucky?”
He lifted Jet’s face and stroked away a tear.
“Your ambition is your true north, stronger than any magnet. I trust that force to bring you on the voyage that eventually”—Jet could see him calculating—“about thirty years from now, will bring you home to me and this bar and this pilotage.” He smiled down at her. “And I pity the fool”—he placed a hand over his heart—“who tries to stand in your way.”
Jet felt a glimmer of hope. Dad leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “I’m not brave enough to stop you. Much as I’d like to try.”
“And Kai?” Jet said.
“That cousin of yours,” Dad said, “is adrift at the moment. The compass is just an invitation to think about a direction for his life. He might captain a ship someday. He’ll be good at whatever he sets his mind to.”
“He’s the perfect crew,” Jet said.
If he’d asked for command of the Saga, she’d have trusted him to do it right. For sure he’d have been more cautious.
“He’s careful,” Jet said, “and brave…and subtle.” She smiled, remembering their first sail together.
Dad laughed. “Subtlety, yeah. I gotta get me some of that. It’d serve me well. Got any to spare?”
“None at all,” Jet said. “Or so I hear.”
The Global Prosperity had passed the mouth of Youngs Bay and was heading around Clatsop Spit, the last turn before the open ocean. When everything went smoothly, when every ship honored the right-of-way and the weather was fair, piloting a ship was like a dance between the tide and the current and the captain, a thing so beautiful you could forget for a moment how terrible it could be.
“I wish I wanted something easier,” Jet said, “but I don’t know how to make myself dream of something else.”
“Your mom and I are never going to love the danger part. For the record, we don’t love it that my brother and sister-in-law work with nuclear reactors, either. But if you’re going to make your life on the water, you’d better have the best training you can get. So…” He gave Jet a stern look. “You provide the grades and the fitness scores, and I’ll help you get a senator’s n
omination to the Merchant Marine Academy. You’re going to have to work harder for this than you’ve ever worked in your life,” he said.
The final horn from the end of the race and the faint sound of cheering drifted their way. They’d be giving out the prizes soon. Eight hours ago it would have killed her to lose, but now that championship cup hardly mattered.
“I know,” Jet said. “I should probably make an effort not to sink any more ships.”
“That’s the spirit,” Dad said.
He took her by the hand, and together they headed for the regatta.
AUNT KARIN AND Oliver ran toward Kai along the dock. They both threw their arms around him, laughing and crying and talking at once. Beck and his parents were right behind them.
“Where’s Jet?” Kai shouted, ready to turn the boat around and go search for her.
“She’s okay!” Beck yelled. “She made it!” He pointed to the container ship that had caused all the trouble. “She’s right there.”
The ship was a hundred yards from the finish line. The coast guard helicopter hovered above it. On top of the containers, standing alone, was Jet in her orange life jacket and a white headband. The downwash whipped around her. She threw her hands up and danced with excitement. Kai’s jaw dropped to the ground. He looked back toward the river, where he’d left Jet in the Saga. How did she get clear up there?
A surfman was lowered out of the helicopter to where Jet was standing.
“Oh, my baby girl,” Aunt Karin groaned. She covered her eyes. “Tell me when it’s over.”
The surfman hooked Jet to a line and lifted her into the helicopter. Kai felt his stomach lurch as she swung and spiraled upward, but the crowd in the stands broke into a cheer, and Jet waved as if this was a stunt she’d pulled a thousand times before.
After the helicopter headed off in the direction of the coast guard air station, a crowd gathered around Beck and Kai. Roland was nowhere to be seen. Somebody called them heroes. Cameras flashed on all sides. The admiral of the regatta said something about the citizen-hero medal and a ceremony in the mayor’s office next week. The newspaperman lined people up for pictures. The rescued boy’s father came over. He shook Kai’s hand so hard, Kai thought his arm would come off.
Aunt Karin was doing a video with her phone. “It’s your parents,” she said, pointing to the phone. “Say something to them!”
Kai bowed automatically and deeply, grateful that the gesture gave him a moment to compose his thoughts. He’d lost the race and his father’s boat. He should apologize. He’d done it to save a boy’s life, but he mustn’t brag. He looked up as Aunt Karin panned the cheering crowd with her phone. He was mortified.
“Hey, Kai’s mom and dad!” Beck shouted. He threw an arm over Kai’s shoulder. “This guy is awesome! He’s incredible!”
Kai barged in with a greeting in Japanese, hoping that his mother wouldn’t think he had become an American bragger over the summer.
“This is my friend, Beck,” he continued in Japanese. “A fellow sailor. There was an error in the race.” Kai decided to gloss over the details about who was to blame. “Beck swam to this man’s rescue.” He gestured to the man who waved and said “thank you” over and over. “Beck kept him afloat until the coast guard came.”
Kai turned to the boy. “This boy…,” he began but had to stop. His voice wouldn’t make a sound. His grandparents were lost, and nothing he could do would bring them back. Aunt Karin took Kai by the arm and pulled him aside. She handed him the phone. It wasn’t a private moment, but it was the best they could do.
“The boy lived,” Kai said. And he could see his mother cry. It was the good kind of crying.
“Your grandparents would be proud of you. You know they would,” Kai’s father said. “Listen, it’s time for you to come home. Our work at the reactor is done. It’s safe now.”
He went on to explain that they’d found an apartment and a school in another town, where the tsunami had not reached. They wanted him home where he belonged. His mother dried her tears and told him a plane ticket would be waiting for him in a few days.
Kai’s head was still spinning with thoughts of leaving when he took his place in the stands for the award ceremony. Beck and Skye and Bridgie joined him, but Roland sat at the far end of the stands with his parents. Nobody talked to them.
“Serves him right,” Beck said quietly. “They disqualified the Viking. For failing to yield the right-of-way and endangering another boat.”
“Is that what you two were yelling about?” Kai asked.
“He wouldn’t listen to me,” Beck said. “Once we made that turn around the last island and the current and the wind were in our favor, all he could see was the win. He pulled the tiller out of my hand.” Beck was still speaking quietly, but Kai could feel his anger. “And that other boat? He didn’t try to cut them off. He just forgot to look.”
Beck glared at Roland with complete contempt. Skye, who had been flirting with Roland for weeks, wouldn’t even look at him. A few minutes later she and Bridgie jumped up to smother Jet in a hug. They cooed over her courage and demanded a full account of her adventure, especially the helicopter part. Kai sat back, expecting to hear her tell the girls the fully embellished tale, but to his surprise Jet put them off and slipped in beside him just as the regatta officials took the stage.
Everyone quieted down for the awards ceremony. The Regatta Admiral called the winning team up to the stage. He handed them the Treasure Island Cup, and the pair held it aloft while cameras flashed.
The Saga could have won. They had a clear lead. Kai wanted to apologize. Jet had wanted this win for a long time. She’d worked hard for it. She was the best helmsman in the race by a nautical mile. She deserved the win. Kai turned to her. She leaned in close.
“If you even think about apologizing to me, I’m going to pick up this entire grandstand and whack you over the head with it.”
Yeah, that was his captain talking. Kai smiled and let it go. He let the whole thing go.
After the awards ceremony, everyone crowded around with more congratulations for the brave rescue. Oliver was nowhere in sight. Kai went looking for him and found him under the grandstand, pretend sword in hand, fighting the forces of evil. When Oliver caught sight of Kai, he selected an invisible battle ax from his mental inventory and handed it over.
“Mom says you’re going back to Japan,” he said.
Kai nodded.
“But you live here.”
Kai had never expected to miss his cousins or this town. He wanted to go and he didn’t. There was still so much work to do back home. There would be funerals, and it was almost time for the Obon festival. His parents needed them to be together again. Astoria didn’t feel like home. Not quite. Not yet. But it felt like a place he could belong.
“I’ve got some monsters to deal with over there,” he said at last.
“But what about these monsters?” Oliver gestured to the ring of imaginary creatures around them.
Kai gripped his invisible weapon in both hands, lifted it over his head, and fought by Oliver’s side until every last dragon was dead.
THE PICNIC AFTER the regatta was exactly like every other that Jet had been to her whole life. A bonfire was kindled. Music was made. Stories were told, and the celebrating went on long past sundown.
At first Jet was happy that Roland was no longer the center of attention in her group of friends. Beck was so angry with Roland’s recklessness that he’d told him they’d never sail together again. Skye, who came from a big family of fishermen, was so mortified that Roland cut off somebody’s right-of-way and nearly killed him that she’d had a friend of a friend break up with him on her behalf. It was terrific. It was like old times.
And yet.
Jet couldn’t help remembering her own mistakes at the beginning of the summer. It wasn’t easy to make the right call out on the water. She thought she was going to die of shame for running the Saga aground in Youngs Bay, but at least she hadn’t
done it in front of her whole town. There was no getting around it. Roland had done a stupid thing, a dangerous thing. He’d never live it down. And Jet knew exactly how he felt.
She caught a glimpse of him leaving the picnic with his parents, and on an impulse she ran to cut them off at the parking lot.
“Hey,” she said, and then wished she’d thought this through before she’d come over. Jet didn’t want to be Roland’s friend. He was just as awful as she’d always known him to be. If it weren’t for his ego, his stupidity, she’d still have the Saga.
Even so.
“You sailed the Viking home all by yourself.” Jet looked past him to the marina, where all the boats, except hers, were tied up for the night. “I bet that was hard.”
“Yeah,” Roland mumbled. He was looking for an attack. Jet could tell. It was tempting.
But.
“That boat means a lot to Beck and Captain Chandler. So thanks.” Jet took a deep breath and thought it through. Yup. That was all she wanted to say to him. She turned and dashed back to her friends.
—
A HALF-DOZEN MARSHMALLOWS and two burned fingers later, Jet turned to Beck and Kai, who’d lingered around the fire long after the others had gone off to play flashlight tag.
“We should make wish boats. Like we did at outdoor school.” She polished off the last bite of her s’more and wiped her sticky fingers on her jeans.
The Turn of the Tide Page 15