by E. S. Farber
The Neutrino slowed down. I passed it with a nod at Max. Two O in the Comet was about twenty yards ahead of me. An Alumacraft like the Comet is light, which can make it fast, but the engine on this one was an old nine horsepower.
The Fireball started catching up. Ten yards. Then five. Two O looked over at me as I passed and gave me a thumbs-up.
Woo-hoo! The Fireball was zooming faster than it ever had before. It must have been because of the racing fuel. Eli had said it could give me one or two more points of horsepower.
I could do this. I could beat Bryce. I just had to stay on plane and keep cruising.
“Go, Fireball!” I heard someone scream.
“Go, Viper!” I heard another voice yell.
Whistles and shouts filled the air. I could feel the crowd’s excitement. I gripped the wheel tighter.
Next came the Barracuda. We edged back and forth, seesawing for the lead, until True fell off plane and I raced ahead of him. The Zephyr was now less than ten yards ahead of me. It was right behind the Viper. The bell buoy was just up ahead.
“Go, Fireball, go!” I said, gripping the wheel.
I pulled back on the throttle to slow the boat slightly as I came into the turn by the buoy. I turned the wheel gently so the Fireball wouldn’t come off plane.
THUNK!
The Zephyr hit the water just ahead of me.
It slowed down. It came off plane, taking the turn too fast. When I passed the boy in the red cap, he looked at me and smiled. The Viper was now just yards ahead.
“Get ready to get slayed!” Bryce yelled over his shoulder.
I edged up to him. The two of us raced side by side.
“You’ll never pass me!” Bryce shouted, waving his fist.
I looked over at him as we raced neck and neck, our bows perfectly matched, our engines humming along at the same speed. It felt amazing to move so fast, the sun shining on the water, the crowd watching from the dock. Racing in the Classic was way better than I had ever imagined.
“Woo-hoo!” I felt so happy, I couldn’t help whooping.
“Woo-hoo!” The crowd whooped back.
“Give it up, Finelli!” yelled Bryce.
POP!
The Viper slowed and then came to a stop.
I could see Bryce’s shocked, angry face as I shot past him. I would never tell him I told him so, but I had told him his propeller was going to be a problem.
The Fireball was in the lead.
I could see the dock up ahead. The crowd was waving and shouting. All eyes were on me as I approached the finish line. I was going to do it. I was going to beat Bryce. I was so excited, I held my breath. The Fireball was about to smoke the Viper and win the race.
WHOOOSH!
The Zephyr suddenly whizzed past me and crossed the finish line first.
The boy in the red hat won the race!
The crowd cheered and yelled.
KA-BOOM! The Captain shot off the cannon.
I was in a daze as I docked the Fireball. The other racers pulled up to the dock and tied up their boats, too. I couldn’t believe I had lost. I hopped onto the dock and tied my line to a post. I was so close. But the truth was that silver boat was super fast, that kid in the red hat was a good racer, and that brand-new Evinrude was a fast motor.
The crowd parted so that the boy in the red hat could walk up to the judges’ stand. Mr. Billings had a big frown on his face, probably because Bryce had lost. For a second, I actually felt bad for Bryce. Beck had won both years he was in our division, so I was sure Bryce would be hearing all about that from his dad.
Mr. de Quincy and Mr. Blue smiled at the crowd.
“The winner of the Captain Kidd Classic, Class One, Eleven and Under Division, is the Zephyr and . . .” Mr. Blue frowned at his sheet. “There doesn’t seem to be a name here.” He looked up at the boy in the red hat.
The boy pulled off his hat. Long brown hair tumbled out. He wasn’t a boy at all. He was a girl. And not just any girl.
He—I mean, she—was none other than Clementine de Quincy!
My mouth dropped open in surprise, but no one looked more shocked than Mr. de Quincy.
“Clementine?!”
She grinned at her father as he hugged her.
“But how?” he sputtered, staring at his daughter in shock. “You never said anything . . .”
“I figured since you care so much about boats, I would show you how much I like boats, too,” said Clementine.
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, hugging her dad. “I swore the boating instructor at the club to secrecy, and he let me use the Zephyr, one of his boats. See, I really was listening all those times you taught me about boats.”
Mr. de Quincy slung his arm proudly around Clementine’s shoulders. “You had a great race.”
The crowd clapped and cheered, their eyes on the father and daughter.
“Congratulations!” Mr. Blue handed Clementine the silver cup while the crowd cheered.
“Coming in right behind for a close second was the Fireball and Fish Finelli!”
The crowd clapped and cheered for me. I could see Roger and T. J. jumping up and down and hooting. Not far behind them were my parents and Uncle Norman, with Feenie on his shoulders.
“Third place goes to Two O, that is Owen Osborn, in the Comet,” finished Mr. Blue.
Two O and I slapped palms and whooped. Roger and T. J., who had pushed their way through the crowd, bumped fists with us, too, hooting all the while.
“Zee winner may be zee Zephyr,” said Roger, buzzing his Z’s loudly, “but zee Fireball will always be zee winner to me.”
Just then Mr. de Quincy’s voice boomed out, “Everyone is invited to a party at the Sandstone Club tonight!”
HERE WE GO AGAIN . . . AGAIN
I tugged on the collar of the white shirt my mom made me wear as we entered the Sandstone Club and headed to the party. The blue tie was choking me and my shiny loafers were pinching my toes. Feenie wore a pink, lacy dress and for once she wasn’t wearing her fairy wings. My parents were all dressed up, too. My dad even had on his blue blazer with the gold buttons that he only wears on very special occasions.
“Yo, Fish!” Roger called, standing with T. J. off to the side of the very crowded ballroom.
I noticed they were both dressed up, too. They looked about as uncomfortable as I felt. The whole place was decorated pirate style. There were ropes hanging on the walls like rigging and a crow’s nest all the way up on the ceiling. Waiters wearing eye patches and bandannas tied pirate style on their heads walked around with trays. Trunks with plastic gold spilling out of them were placed around the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. de Quincy into a microphone. “Mr. Blue would now like to officially present the silver cups to the winners.” He and Mr. Blue stood side by side on a stage at the front of the room.
“Race One’s winning cup has been engraved with the name of this year’s winning boat,” began Mr. Blue. He pointed to the trophy. “The Zephyr, piloted by Clementine de Quincy.”
Clementine walked up to the front and he handed her the cup. There was another round of applause, but Clementine wasn’t smiling.
“Wait!” she called over the noise of all the clapping. She stared out at the audience, as if she were looking for someone. Her eyes rested on me all of a sudden, and she motioned for me to come up to the stage.
“Huh?”
“Fish, that’s your cue, dude.” Roger elbowed me.
So Clementine was looking for someone. She was looking for me. My parents smiled as I passed them. Uncle Norman winked as he put his arm around Venus’s shoulders.
I had almost reached the front of the room when I tripped over something. As I caught my balance, I looked up. Bryce was standing there with a nasty grin on his face. He was wearing a fancy white suit.
“Watch your step, loser,” he said so low only I could hear.
“If Fish Finel
li hadn’t fixed my carburetor, I would never have won,” said Clementine. She turned to me and grinned.
A murmur ran through the crowd. Mr. Blue looked at Mr. de Quincy in surprise, but Mr. de Quincy just smiled, as if he knew this was going to happen all along.
“And the Fireball might have come in first, because he wouldn’t have gotten a late start. This cup really belongs to Fish.”
I stood there in shock as Mr. Blue and Mr. de Quincy talked to Clementine.
CARBURETOR
A carburetor combines air and fuel to create an internal combustion engine. It is a metal tube with a throttle (adjustable plate) that controls the amount of airflow. A narrowing in the tube (the venturi) creates a vacuum, inside of which is a hole (the jet) that allows the vacuum to pull in fuel.
Mr. Blue picked up the microphone. “As I just now found out, the Zephyr would not have been in the race at all if it weren’t for Fish Finelli, who jeopardized his own start time in order to help a fellow mariner. He sets a fine example for all boaters.”
There was more clapping and a bunch of hooting that I knew without looking had to be Roger and T. J.
Clementine handed the cup to me. “Fish and I are going to split the prize money and share the trophy. He gets it for six months, starting now.”
Everyone laughed and clapped.
“No, you should have it first,” I said, handing it back to her, “since the Zephyr really won.”
She handed it to me again. “No, you!”
“And now for the winner of the second race,” said Mr. Blue. “Beck Billings in the Poseidon.”
Everyone cheered and clapped. Mr. Billings patted Beck on the back, beaming as he watched him weave his way to the podium. Mrs. Billings adjusted her long pearl necklace, a huge smile pasted across her face. Bryce looked away and his eyes met mine. His sad, sour-looking expression suddenly turned angry. I didn’t care.
I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked down at the trophy in my arms, thinking of Mr. Blue saying I was a fine mariner. I realized right then that it meant more to me than winning or losing.
The other winners were announced, but I barely heard as Two O came up to congratulate me. Even True gave me the thumbs-up.
Then music started playing, and the adults started dancing. Feenie and Mmm were dancing, too. Most of the kids were gathered at the other end of the room near the food. I headed toward Roger and T. J.
“You know, I really couldn’t have done it without you,” Clementine said, coming up beside me. “Thank you for fixing my carburetor.”
“It was no big deal,” I said.
“What was no big deal?” asked Roger.
“It was so,” said Clementine, her green eyes serious.
“What was so?” asked T. J., popping a shrimp in his mouth.
“It was so a big deal that Fish fixed my carb, because if he hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have won,” said Clementine. “And he might have.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know about that, because the Zephyr is a really fast boat.”
Clementine smiled. “It is fast. That’s why it’s called the Zephyr. It means—”
“. . . wind!” we both said and burst out laughing.
“Oh, man,” said Roger. “A girl Great Brain.”
Roger and T. J. started laughing, too, as a girl in a sparkly white dress danced by with True. She waved at Clementine. Summer and Beck danced by next.
“Summer and Beck sitting in a tree,” crooned Roger, loud enough for Summer to hear. She stuck her tongue out at him behind Beck’s back and then danced Beck away.
Next thing we knew, Two O came dancing over, waving at us as he twirled some Sandstone Club girl around so fast, I was surprised she didn’t throw up.
Roger nodded toward Clementine and raised his eyebrows at me.
“What?” I mouthed.
He kicked me hard and whispered, “Ask her to dance, Great Brain!”
I blushed and felt my whole face turn red. I glanced over at Clementine, who was looking at me. I turned even redder.
“Um . . . do you want to . . . um . . .” Before I could get the words out, she was already nodding.
She reached for my arm and we headed out to the dance floor. I was so nervous, I couldn’t think of a word to say. I had never danced with a girl before, unless you counted my mom. My stomach felt funny, like it was filled with jellyfish.
“Get out of my way, loser,” said Bryce, taking Clementine’s other arm. “I’m dancing with her.”
“You are not,” I said. “And just who are you calling a loser?”
Clementine looked from me to Bryce and back again. I was way too mad to say the alphabet this time. Right is right, and wrong is just plain old wrong. First Bryce tripped me, and now he was trying to take away my first-ever dance with a girl.
“You,” said Bryce.
More than angry, what I realized I was feeling was brave. It might have been because of the trophy or the fact that Clementine was standing right beside me. “You’re the loser,” I said, staring him right in the eye. “Since I won the bet.”
Kids stopped talking to listen. All eyes were on us.
“You did not,” said Bryce. “You didn’t really win the race.”
“Clementine did,” added Trippy.
“But he did win the race to Get Lost,” said Roger.
“And even if I didn’t come in first, you were eating my spray in the Classic, just like I said you would be,” I said.
“He beat you fair and square,” said Roger. “He bet you he would beat you, and he did.”
Bryce turned red. “You guys think you’re so hot.”
“Smoking hot,” said Roger.
“Guess what? You’re still losers. None of you belongs at this club. You’re not members and you never will be.”
“Knock it off, Bryce,” I said.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” said Bryce. He moved closer to me with an angry frown. Trippy was right behind him.
“I’m not scared of you,” I said, holding my ground.
“You think you’re so brave?”
I wasn’t feeling all that brave anymore, with the two of them standing over me, but I was really mad. I wasn’t going to let him push me or Rog or Teej around, just because his family belonged to the snooty Sandstone Club and ours didn’t. “Yes.”
“Prove it.”
I stared around frantically trying to think of something. My eye was caught by a painting of a whale hunt on the wall next to me. “I’ll go into the one-legged whaler’s haunted house.” I blurted out the words.
“On the night of the full moon,” said Bryce.
A murmur went through the crowd. No one ever went into the haunted house, especially not at night and never on the night of the full moon when everyone who believes in ghosts says they have the most power.
“And you have to bring out the one-legged whaler’s harpoon!” said Trippy. “As proof . . .”
I didn’t say anything for a minute.
“You going to take the dare or not, Finelli?” asked Bryce.
Roger and T. J. looked at me. I knew they were thinking about the ghost of the one-legged whaler, who cursed anyone who dared to enter and then ran them through with his rusty harpoon and locked them in the dungeon, where they slowly turned into rotting corpses.
“I knew you were too chicken,” said Bryce.
“Scaredy-cat,” added Trippy.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “Anyway, there are no such things as ghosts.”
“Guess you’ll find out.”
“Count me in,” said Roger. He elbowed T. J. so hard a piece of dinner roll popped out of his mouth.
“Me too,” said T. J.
“Here we go again . . . again . . .” said Roger.
There were no such things as ghosts . . . were there? It looked like it wouldn’t be long before we found out. . . .
E.S. FARBER is the mother of a boy who likes facts along with his fiction, which inspired her to write Fish Finelli. S
he spent many days at the East Hampton Library researching Long Island history, including pirates, and where she actually saw Captain Kidd’s cloth of gold (you can, too!). Besides writing at the library, she also works with librarians to create spelling bees and other programs for kids. She has authored numerous chapter books, early reader books, manga, and educational books. She lives in Amagansett, NY.
JASON BEENE communicates best with a pencil and paper in front of him, which has helped him in his grown-up career of making games, teaching at MIT and RISD, and being a father to two girls. Jason’s latest adventure is being Art Director of Callaway Digital Arts. He lives in Providence, RI.