Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2

by Melody Carlson

  “After your grandfather!” snapped Allison. She grabbed up her books and followed Shirley. “Wait. I’m coming, too.”

  “Where you going?” asked Howie.

  “To the lighthouse,” called Allison. “Tell Andrew that I don’t need a ride today.”

  Allison wondered if she’d lost her mind. She gulped and clutched the door handle as Shirley swerved around another steep curve.

  “This isn’t a chase, Shirley,” said Allison, trying to appear calm. “You don’t need to drive so fast.”

  Shirley laughed. “Am I frightening you, Allison?”

  “A little.” Allison watched nervously as Marge Jenson’s red Pontiac’s tires crossed the center line. “How long have you been driving, Shirley?”

  “Long enough,” snapped Shirley. “Don’t be such a baby, Allison!”

  Allison decided it might be wiser and safer to keep quiet. Shirley didn’t need any distractions right now. In the meantime, Allison silently prayed for safety and vowed never to ride with Shirley again!

  Shirley parked on the dock road, and with great relief Allison escaped from the car.

  “I should go tell my dad what we’re up to,” said Allison.

  “We only have about an hour before the sun goes down, Allison. I say we go right now.” Shirley began to march down to the dock. Allison dashed after her, certain that Shirley would leave in the boat without her. And Allison was not about to get scooped on her own story. She suspected that Shirley was hoping to get a story out of this, too, but Allison felt fairly certain that Howie, forced to choose between her story or Shirley’s, would probably pick hers.

  It was obvious that Shirley’s narrow pencil skirt and heeled shoes weren’t designed for outdoor explorations as she climbed into the boat with great difficulty. Allison waited as Shirley gingerly sat down, then hopped in. She was thankful for her own full woolen skirt and sturdy saddle shoes, but she noted with dismay that Shirley had left the rowing seat for Allison.

  “I suppose I get to row,” grumbled Allison as she reached for the oars.

  Shirley laughed. “Well, you’re the athletic one, Allison. Besides, you’ve had more experience with boats and things.”

  “So what if I hadn’t come?” questioned Allison. “Would you have rowed out by yourself?”

  “I knew you would come,” retorted Shirley.

  Allison narrowed her eyes and began to row. Fortunately, the tide was in and not moving.

  “Can’t you row any faster?” Shirley complained.

  Allison scowled. “Do you want to give it a try?”

  “No. But do hurry. I’m getting cold.”

  Allison continued to row steadily. At least the movement warmed her, and her clothing was probably heavier than Shirley’s. Allison looked up to see Shirley frowning at her. “What is it now?”

  “I thought you said that there wasn’t anything between you and Howie,” said Shirley unexpectedly.

  Allison stopped rowing for a moment and stared at Shirley with disbelief. “What?”

  “You told me that you and Howie were just friends.”

  Allison shook her head in wonder. “That’s right. We are just friends. Why are you bringing this up now?”

  “Because on Friday night I thought that Howie and I were becoming something—like a couple. And then he kept talking about you! It was infuriating. You tricked me, Allison O’Brian.”

  Allison laughed and pulled the oars again. Honestly, she sometimes wondered if Shirley was mentally unstable. “Shirley,” began Allison, trying to remain patient, “I didn’t trick you. I do think of Howie as just a friend. I can’t help it if he’s not interested in you. You can’t blame me for that, can you?”

  Shirley folded her arms across her chest and turned her face toward the island.

  Despite Shirley’s complaints, Allison made good time to the lighthouse dock. But as she tied off the boat, the reality of what they were doing hit her with fresh impact.

  “What if we actually found the thieves?” she whispered to Shirley as she glanced nervously around the island.

  Shirley’s eyes widened. “They wouldn’t be here in the daytime, would they? Didn’t you say you only saw the lanterns at night?”

  Allison rolled her eyes. “But they wouldn’t need lanterns in the day, Shirley.”

  “We’ll only stay a few minutes,” ordered Shirley. “If we see anything out of the ordinary, we’ll leave immediately.”

  “Now who’s frightened?” asked Allison as she led the way up to the lighthouse.

  They walked the perimeter of the lighthouse but didn’t see anything unusual. Although it was a small island, they wouldn’t have time to search everywhere.

  “I think your hunch was stupid,” snarled Shirley when her heel got stuck in a rock crevice.

  “No one made you come.”

  “I’m ready to go.” Shirley pulled her foot out of her shoe and bent down to extract the heel.

  “Not yet.” Allison looked over to a slight rise in the island. “I’m going to check that out first.”

  “I’m leaving,” proclaimed Shirley.

  “Wait for me at the boat,” instructed Allison. “This will only take a few minutes.” Allison heard Shirley grumble something, but she paid no mind as she climbed up the rocks and over to the rise. Maybe it was a wild-goose chase, but there was no sense in giving up without a good look.

  As Allison rounded the corner, she realized that the rise was actually the backside of a small cave—a perfect place to stash stolen property. Allison considered yelling for Shirley to come but didn’t want to risk her wrath without some actual proof. Instead, Allison proceeded into the mouth of the cave. It was a small opening about six feet in diameter, dark and damp inside. Allison wished she had thought to bring a flashlight. She paused for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then continued. After just a few feet, the walls of the cave narrowed a little. She continued a few more steps but still didn’t see signs of anything out of the ordinary. Now it was only about five feet wide, and she had to stoop to continue, peering through the shadowy darkness.

  Something seemed to glint from the back of the cave. It was reflecting light. She stepped closer and made out the shape of a large candelabra amidst a pile of other shiny objects. As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit area, she began to discern jewelry, silver, various pieces of china, and even a large oil painting with an ornately gilded frame. Suddenly, her heart caught in her throat. This is it! I found it!

  She crawled deeper into the cave, just far enough to make absolute certain that it wasn’t just her imagination. But it was real. She reached out her hand and touched the cold metal of the candelabra. With a feeling of victory, she turned and practically stumbled out of the cave toward the light of the western horizon. She was about to cry her discovery out to Shirley when she heard the low rumble of a boat engine trawling in the distance. She paused, hunching down behind the rise, and waited to see if the boat was coming this way or just passing by. It seemed very close to the shore for a fishing boat. What if it was the thieves who were stashing their loot there? She knew if she tried to make her way to the dock right now she would be highly visible from sea. But if she didn’t go, Shirley would be a sitting duck, waiting in the rowboat at the dock.

  Allison listened hard. The boat seemed to be north of the island. The dock was on the south side. For Shirley’s sake, she would have to make a run for it. Holding her gray tweed jacket over her head as camouflage against the leaden sky, Allison scuttled over the rocks like a crab. She tripped once, catching her knee on a sharp rock, but continued scurrying as fast as she could go. Finally she reached the lighthouse. She was so glad to see the round white building that she almost hugged it, but instead she ran around to the other side and looked anxiously down toward the dock.

  Shirley and the boat were gone!

  Allison shook her head and looked again, but no one was there. She ran down to the abandoned dock and looked out across the inlet. The
re, almost at the other dock, Allison spotted the little rowboat. She wanted to scream, but she could hear the motorboat steadily churning around the backside of the island—near enough to hear her. It might not be the thieves, but just in case, she needed to hide. And she needed a place away from the dock and away from the cave.

  Allison ran around to the east side of the island, the side that faced the shoreline, and quickly hunted until she found a large rock that she could slip behind. From her hiding place she could peek out and barely see the dock—that way if the boat turned out to be the Coast Guard, she would know. Hunched behind the rock, she prayed.

  Her heart pounded so hard it sounded like thunder in her ears, and it was difficult to hear the boat’s motor. She peeked out, but it hadn’t come to the dock yet. Perhaps it was only passing by. It was getting darker now, and the wind was picking up. Allison pulled her jacket tighter and tucked her skirt down around her ankles like a blanket. She tried to think. If only the mystery boat would come to the dock and reveal its identity. She hated to think it might be a Coast Guard boat that she was hiding from, but did she dare take the chance of leaving her hiding spot to see? Tears burned in her eyes, a mixture of fear and anger. Why had she ever trusted Shirley?

  Allison shivered and waited. How long would it take for Dad to figure out where she was? Would she have to spend the night out here? Then a hopeful thought crossed her mind; perhaps Shirley had heard the approaching boat, gotten scared, and gone for help. That must be it! Everyone knew that Shirley Jenson had her problems, but she wouldn’t abandon Allison out on this island with a bunch of criminals. Would she?

  The sun went down and darkness enfolded her, but not in a frightening way. It felt more like a protective blanket. Now they wouldn’t be able to spot her—at least not without a light. The sound of the boat engine had dissolved. Perhaps it had only been a fishing boat that had simply passed on by. Or else it had stopped on the island. She waited, listening intensely, but all she heard was wind and lapping waves. She sighed and leaned her head back against the rock. What should she do?

  Suddenly, she caught the sound of male voices as snatches of hurried conversation were caught and tossed by the wind. Perhaps someone was here to help her. Allison sat up and cupped her hand to her ear, hoping to recognize a voice.

  “Grab that rope, Roy. . . .”

  “Gimme the lantern. . . . Hey, watch out, Fred!”

  Allison held her breath. It didn’t sound like anyone she knew. It must be the thieves! She hunkered down behind the rock, her heart pounding with fresh fear. Please, God, she prayed silently, send help for me—fast!

  After what seemed like hours, the sound of the boat’s engine started up again, then steadily churned away. Allison was cold and stiff. Her back ached from being wedged against the hard rock, but she was still too frightened to move. Her mind told her that she was safe now, that the thieves would be long gone, but she couldn’t make her legs move. Besides, what could she do? Without a boat, she was stranded. Who knew for how long?

  Then it began to rain. Not just a sprinkle but big, hard drops—the kind that promised to go on for hours. Allison knew she couldn’t last long in this weather. She was already chilled to the bone. The lighthouse would be locked, but perhaps she could break in somehow. She stood up stiffly and looked around, not completely convinced that all the robbers had left. But by now her coat was soaking wet and she was shivering so badly that she realized her greater fear would be to die from exposure. She made her way to the lighthouse, praying as she went. She remembered another time she had been cold and desperate, trying to get inside the lighthouse, but that time her dad had been inside. Tonight there was no one.

  She tried the door, hoping against hope that it might be unlocked. But it wasn’t. She picked up a large stone and used it to beat on the doorknob. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she was too cold to care. Over and over again, she threw the heavy stone against the latch, but the stubborn lock wouldn’t give. With the last of her strength, she raised the rock high over her head, then dashed it down on the knob with a loud bang. The knob fell off and the door cracked open.

  “Thank you, God,” whispered Allison as she pushed open the door and went inside. It was no warmer inside, but at least it wasn’t raining. She could barely see in the darkness but felt her way over to where she knew the old wood stove was. She reached to the wooden mantel above and carefully felt along the surface until she found a kerosene lamp and a box of matches. She moved the lantern down to the floor and away from the view of a window and lit it, turning it down low. It gave her enough light to see around the interior of the lighthouse and decide what must be done next. She closed the door and scooted a heavy dresser in front of it, then located an old coat that she hung over the thick glass window. Hopefully that would keep anyone from noticing the light inside.

  She looked over to the firebox, which was equipped with kindling and firewood. Did she dare start a fire and risk attracting attention from the smoke? Did she dare not? Besides, it was so rainy and cloudy, maybe no one would notice. She quickly stacked the wood like a tepee over a crumpled piece of brown paper—Grandpa O’Brian had taught her how to make a good fire—then lit it. Soon it was crackling. She then peeled off her soggy coat and hung it by the fire to dry. Her clothes were damp, too, but as she hovered over the snapping flames, she slowly grew warmer. She noticed the old patchwork quilt on the little bed and wrapped it around her like a cape, continuing to rub her hands over the fire until the feeling returned to her fingers. She sighed. This wasn’t so bad.

  After a while she searched the cupboard in the kitchen area to uncover some tea, dried beans, flour, sugar, and a tin of sardines. She ate the sardines as she waited for the water to boil on top of the wood stove. Then she made herself a big mug of tea with a couple spoonfuls of lumpy sugar thrown in. It was delicious. She pulled a chair up to the fire and sat down.

  She would probably be just fine for the night. That is, as long as the thieves didn’t return and find her! Now that her fear of freezing was gone, the threat from the thieves became terrifyingly real again. What if they returned and noticed smoke or her lantern in the lighthouse? She looked around the room for another piece of furniture that she could wedge against the door. She moved the heavy wooden table against the dresser, then shoved a wardrobe up against that. It would take a strong man to push through all those pieces. Just to be safe, she turned off the lantern.

  She sat back down in front of the fire, thankful for the warm glow that kept the room from being completely dark. She leaned back in the rocker and for the first time in hours relaxed. She had done everything she could do. She would trust God for everything else. She dozed off for a while, then awoke with a start in the darkness. Where am I?

  Then it all came back to her, and she noticed that her fire was almost out. She threw on a couple more pieces of wood and looked at her watch in the dim light of the fire. It was nine o’clock, but it felt more like midnight. By now she felt fairly certain that Shirley had purposely abandoned her. What would people think of her when they heard about this little episode? Would anyone ever trust Shirley Jenson again?

  Allison made another cup of tea and wondered how long it would take for someone to come. Would she have to spend the night here, then perhaps make a signal fire in the morning for Dad or George to spot? She looked at a small desk that sat under the window. Perhaps she could find paper and pencil and begin to write the news story that had been forming itself in her head. “Thieves’ Lair Uncovered at Jenson Light” . . .

  She found an old, weathered school tablet and began to furiously write her story. It sounded like something from another century, with pirates and booty, yet it was a modern-day tale with an interesting twist. It was even more unique that she was writing it from the lighthouse while awaiting her own rescue. For a moment, but only a moment, she was almost thankful to Shirley for her deviousness. Naturally, Allison didn’t have all the facts yet, but that would be easy to fill in once th
e police picked up the thieves. She hoped that would be soon.

  Just as she finished her story, she heard a sound outside. Something beyond the steady rhythm of wind and rain. She quickly blew out the lantern and held her breath as she listened. Her heart was beating furiously again, and thoughts of the robbers lurking outside the door filled her with panic. What if they could get it open? There was no place to hide in the tiny lighthouse. If she went up the stairs to the light, she would be trapped for sure. Perhaps she could hide behind the door, then make a break for it when they weren’t looking. She could try to hide outside—

  Someone was pounding on the door. Dear God, help! she prayed as she tried to put on her shoes and find her jacket. The pounding increased.

  “Allison!”

  Allison leaped from the chair. It was Dad! She knew it. She ran to the door.

  “Dad?” she cried, but her voice came out in a trembling whisper.

  “Allison? Are you in there?”

  “Yes!” she screamed this time, and her voice cooperated. “Dad, I’m in here! Just a minute and I’ll open the door.” She pushed the wardrobe aside and then the table. Finally, she shoved the dresser back just as James forced the door open.

  “Allison!” he cried as she tumbled into his arms. “Thank God, you’re okay!” He looked over his shoulder, then shouted, “She’s in the lighthouse, Andrew. Safe and sound.”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m so glad you came,” sobbed Allison. She clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go. “I thought I’d have to spend the night. I was so scared.”

  “How in the world did you get here?” asked Dad.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Allison stepped back and looked at him in wonder. Just as she was about to answer, Andrew came inside the lighthouse.

  “Are you all right, Allison?” His face looked pale with concern as he closed the door behind him.

  “I’m fine now,” said Allison. She turned to her father, who was busy lighting the lantern and throwing more wood on the fire. “You really don’t know how I got out here?”