He snatched his suit, put it on, and climbed into the boat. No one said a word the whole way home.
A familiar face was waiting for Amelia Bedelia on the pier. Her father was back for the long weekend, and he had brought along a surprise visitor.
“Finally!” Amelia Bedelia called out.
Finally pulled and pulled at her leash until she got free. She raced along the pier, jumped off, and swam for their boat.
Amelia Bedelia scooped her onboard, laughing when Finally nibbled her on the chin. Then Finally began shaking off so much water that Pearl said, “One more shake and she’ll sink us.”
“Yeah, Finally,” said Jason. “We’re all in the same boat.”
Amelia Bedelia’s father helped them carry the buckets of berries back to the house.
“Welcome back, honey!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “You’re a celebrity.” She held up a copy of the Beach Gazette. Amelia Bedelia’s father had made the front page.
His face was sticking out of the sand castle that Amelia Bedelia and Jason had built on top of him while he slept. The headline read A MAN IS HIS CASTLE.
Amelia Bedelia’s father shook his head. “The saying is ‘A man’s home is his castle,’” he said.
“But in this case you are the castle, dear,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “My Prince Charming, with your head in the sand.”
“Like an ostrich,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Hey,” said her father. “Isn’t anyone happy to see me?”
Amelia Bedelia and her parents shared a family hug while Aunt Mary admired the buckets of berries.
“We can quadruple the recipe,” she said. “I’ve got a deep ceramic pan that’s perfect for cobbler.” She took off her rings and started making the dough. “We’ll bake it now and heat it up tomorrow. That intensifies the flavor.”
Pearl and Jason began by washing the berries.
“I have an idea,” said Aunt Mary. “Amelia Bedelia, do you remember how to make a mud pie?”
“Yuck!” said Amelia Bedelia. “I haven’t made mud pies since I was little. If you’re serving blackberry cobbler, who’d want a pie made of mud?”
Aunt Mary laughed. “Amelia Bedelia, I think your mother needs to teach you about mud pie!”
Amelia Bedelia’s mother smiled and got out her recipe for mud pie.
“Anything with this much chocolate has to be good,” said Pearl, reading it over.
“Let’s each make one,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We can call it Pirate Pie.”
“Good idea,” said Pearl. “We can cut each pie into eight pieces.”
Then Jason had an idea. “Call it Piece of Eight Pie, like the money that pirates used. We can get chocolate coins from the candy shop, and you can put one on each slice.”
They all got on their bikes to go downtown to the candy store. Amelia Bedelia was happy that things felt normal again, if only for one more day.
It was the day of the Beach Ball. Bob Jackson showed up on the doorstep bright and early with a bunch of buckets and shovels.
“Let me guess,” said Mary. “You hit the jackpot and need our help digging it up.”
“I wish,” said Bob. “No, it’s my job to dig a hole on the beach and build a fire to cook the seafood for tonight’s feast. I thought the kids would like to learn how to make a clambake.”
“Absolutely!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “Take my husband along and teach him too.”
Amelia Bedelia shook her head. “Does it take this many people to bake one little clam?” she asked.
They all piled into Bob’s pickup and rode down to the beach. The tide was out, and Bob showed them how to look for little bubbles on the mudflats. He dug down less than a foot and scooped out a clam.
“We call this a steamer,” he said, holding it up. “Amelia Bedelia, let’s see if you and Jason can fill these buckets with clams while your dad and I go down to the marina for the rest of the seafood.”
Amelia Bedelia picked up the steamer. When she turned it on its side, it looked like an old steamboat. “Toot-toot!” she said, wiggling the steamer at Jason. The clam shot out a little stream of seawater.
“Ahhh!” she yelped, and dropped it back in the bucket.
Amelia Bedelia and Jason took turns spotting air bubbles and digging up clams. They learned that if they stamped on the sand they could sometimes make a clam shoot up water. They had filled two buckets by the time her father and Bob got back.
The bed of Bob’s truck now held large tubs full of live creatures in seawater. Some tubs were full of waxy cardboard cartons, surrounded by crushed ice. Amelia Bedelia’s father passed out breakfast sandwiches while Bob drew a diagram in the sand and explained how to construct a clambake.
“I don’t even think I like clams,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“That’s okay,” said Bob. “There’s more to a clambake than clams. A clambake is just a way to cook with steam on the beach. We add sausages, potatoes, onions, carrots, and corn on the cob too. For the main course, we’ll have lobsters, crabs, quahog clams, littleneck clams, and the steamers you two dug. And plenty of mussels.”
“Good,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Because my muscles are already aching.”
“Do you have enough energy left to help me dig the pit?” asked Bob, handing her a shovel.
While Amelia Bedelia and Jason dug a deep pit in the sand, Bob and Amelia Bedelia’s father collected large round stones that reminded her of cannonballs.
“First we’ll build a fire to heat up these rocks,” said Bob. “Then we’ll sweep off the fire and cover the hot rocks with wet seaweed. Next, we’ll pop the food on the steaming seaweed, then cover the whole thing with a tarp to keep the steam in. That’s how the food cooks.”
They gathered buckets of wet seaweed and left them next to the pit. “All set,” said Bob. “Later today, my second clambake crew will arrive and start cooking. They’re experts at tending the fire. You’re in for a tasty treat.”
Bob dropped them back at Mary’s house.
“You know, my great-uncle was a chef on a cruise ship,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “I have his recipe for clam chowder. It’s always a big hit at our family reunions.”
“Why don’t you enter the chowder competition?” said Bob. “We have plenty of clams.” He grabbed a bag of fresh clams from the truck and gave it to Amelia Bedelia’s father. “Good luck,” Bob said. “Thanks for your help.”
Amelia Bedelia’s father roped Amelia Bedelia and Jason into chopping, slicing, and dicing the onions and celery and carrots and potatoes while he cleaned and cooked the clams. Amelia Bedelia did not like clams, but the aroma of her father’s chowder was changing her mind. She might have to try a spoonful.
As the Beach Ball festivities got underway, Amelia Bedelia and Jason sat on the porch. They watched tourists walking by, wearing all kinds of crazy costumes. Jason was dressed like a pirate again.
Bob arrived to pick up the desserts and chowder. When they went inside, Amelia Bedelia found her father relaxing in the kitchen, wearing a combination lock on a chain around his neck.
“Guess who I am?” he said.
They all shrugged and shook their heads.
“Ever hear of Davy Jones’s locker?” he asked. “Well, I’m his locker partner.”
“Oh, Daddy,” said Amelia Bedelia, “that is so embarrassing.”
“I think it’s nice and simple,” said Bob. Then he produced his costume. “It’s the tradition for the guy in charge to wear this getup,” he said. He had traded in his metal detector and baseball cap for a trident and a crown.
“You’ll make a fine King Neptune,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.
Amelia Bedelia’s mother and Aunt Mary appeared at the kitchen door. Amelia Bedelia’s mother was wearing a shiny green bathing suit and a long skirt covered in green sequins. She looked like a mermaid.
Aunt Mary wore a big wig with long golden curls covering her bathing suit. She’d borrowed Jason’s skimboard and decorat
ed it to look like a shell. When she stood on it, everyone was speechless.
“Mary, you did it!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “You look just like the painting.”
“You look like Queen Neptune,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Wow,” said Bob. He just stood there, gazing at Mary. “Wow.”
“Jason,” said Aunt Mary, “you may want to change. I think every boy passing by the house today is dressed like a pirate.”
“Not just the boys,” said Pearl. She’d been at the front door. Now she walked in, flourishing a long, curved plastic sword. She looked pretty fearsome. “Pirate Pearl, at your service,” she said, curtsying.
“Nice tattoo,” said Jason, admiring the bleeding-skull transfer on her forearm.
“I’ve got a pirate outfit for you too, Amelia Bedelia,” said Pearl, winking at her. “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. We can be Pirate Pearl and Admiral Amelia Bedelia.”
“Aye, aye,” said Amelia Bedelia, grabbing her art supplies so they could add final touches to their costumes. Amelia Bedelia even made a shark fin out of cardboard for Finally and strapped it around Finally’s furry belly. Amelia Bedelia’s pirate costume came with an eye patch. She drew an open eye on it and put it on.
“That looks so weird,” said Jason.
Then Amelia Bedelia attached two seashells to a headband. When she put it on, the seashells dangled by her ears. “These are my ocean stereo headphones,” she said. “When I want to hear the ocean, I hold them up to my ears.”
Jason laughed. “Hermit crabs not included, I hope.”
“Amelia Bedelia, you’d make an awesome inventor,” said Pearl. “Like Bob.”
Amelia Bedelia, Jason, and Pearl left Aunt Mary’s house and joined the crowd of people streaming downtown. Bob left at the same time. He was off to deliver the food, then hook the Whereami float to his truck and tow it to the clambake.
Amelia Bedelia was feeling uneasy, thinking about the surprise the pirates had in store for all these tourists and hoping Jason was going to do something about it. When they got to the intersection of Main Street and Pier, Jason stopped.
“One of my friends works in this building,” he said. “He invited me up on the roof to watch the parade. You can come up too, if you want.”
When they got to the top, Amelia Bedelia and Pearl saw boys dressed as pirates hiding on every rooftop as far as the eye could see. Amelia Bedelia also spotted plastic milk crates loaded with beach balls full of water. Amelia Bedelia wondered when Jason was going to stop the sacking of the city!
Meanwhile, the good ship Whereami was “floating” down Main Street behind Bob’s pickup truck. The streets were crowded, and the turn onto Pier Street was tight. And that was when it happened.
A gust of wind caught the pirate flag on the Whereami, furling it against the glowing cone of one of those tall outdoor gas heaters that restaurants use to warm customers who sit outside at night. The flag smoked for a second, then burst into flames.
“Fire!” hollered someone in the crowd below.
Jason glared at the other pirates. “Who said that?” he demanded. “I didn’t give the order to fire!”
A chorus of voices arose from the street. “Fire. Fire! FIRE!!!”
Amelia Bedelia and Pearl ran to the edge of the roof. The burning flag was setting the sails on fire.
“Fire!” yelled Pearl.
“What are you doing?” yelled Jason.
Amelia Bedelia lifted up her eye patch and studied the scene below. She could see that only one thing would stop this fire—water.
Then Jason ran to the edge of the roof. “Oh, no!” he said.
“Jason,” said Amelia Bedelia, “you need to fire.”
A look came over Jason’s face. All of a sudden, he knew just what to do. Pointing his cutlass at the blazing Whereami, he hollered, “FIRE!” As soon as he did, every pirate unleashed a beach ball on the ship.
BOOOSH! BOOOOSH! BAH-BOOSH!!!
Beach ball after beach ball sailed through the air and hit the good ship Whereami. The balls exploded, and water soaked the sails and the deck. The fire was out!
Everyone down on the street began clapping and cheering.
“Bravo!”
“Go, pirates!”
“Shiver me timbers!”
The pirates on the rooftops waved down at the crowd.
Pearl began laughing. “Everyone thinks that you guys are the fire department,” she said. “You’re heroes!”
Jason shook his head. “What do they know?” he said. “Tourists—ha!” But now he was smiling at Pearl and Amelia Bedelia.
The clambake was a huge hit. There was plenty of food for all. Everyone agreed that this was the best Beach Ball ever. The desserts were arranged on a table decorated to look like an island, complete with a tiny palm tree and a sign that read DESSERT ISLAND.
Mary’s cobbler even had a sign that said BERRIED TREASURE next to it. People were lining up for a taste, but she hadn’t served a slice. She looked worried.
“Anything wrong?” asked Bob.
“Well, after I made the cobbler, I couldn’t find my favorite ring,” she said. “I hope it didn’t get baked into the cobbler. I don’t want to tear the whole cobbler apart looking for it, but I don’t want anyone to choke on it, either.”
“Serve the other desserts,” said Bob. “I’ll be back.”
The last sliver of Piece of Eight Pie was being served when Bob returned with his metal detector. He waved it over the cobbler.
“Hey, it’s Metal Man!” said someone in the crowd.
“Lose your fortune in the dessert?” asked someone else.
“King Neptune gets first choice,” said Bob, pointing at a particular section of cobbler. “Cut me a slice right there.”
As Mary did, there was a clink. Bob pulled her ring out of his piece of cobbler. He wiped off the ring and placed it back on Mary’s finger. Mary blushed.
“You keep forgetting to use sunblock, Mary,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother, laughing. “There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but there’s only one King Neptune.”
“You mean Metal Man!” said Amelia Bedelia.
Bob thumped his trident on the table, and the crowd quieted down.
“I’d like to thank all of you who made this Beach Ball possible,” he said. “Thanks for your tasty food and hard work. Tonight, when I looked in the rearview mirror of my truck, I saw that I was being followed by a pirate ship on fire. I asked myself the same question that first pirate who landed here probably asked . . . WHERE AM I?
“But then Long John Jason and his pirate crew came to the rescue and put out the fire. That’s when I knew exactly where I was. I am on the best beach, with the best friends ever.”
Bob paused because people were clapping and hooting. He motioned for Jason to join him. When the applause died down, Bob continued, “Jason, you not only saved the Beach Ball, you made it the most exciting Beach Ball ever. In recognition, I’m presenting you with this doubloon that your pirate ancestor long ago probably left here for you to find.” Everyone cheered again as Bob took the doubloon from his own neck and put it around Jason’s.
Later, when Amelia Bedelia, Jason, Pearl, and an assortment of pirates were eating mud pie down by the water’s edge, Amelia Bedelia bumped Jason on the shoulder. “Cousins are the best, matey!” she said.
When their week at the beach was over and they were finally back home, the first thing that Amelia Bedelia unpacked was the shell that Jason had saved for her. She kept it on her nightstand. She loved the difference between its dull, rough outside and the smooth, shiny pink inside.
Whenever she needed to take a break to get away from everything, Amelia Bedelia would close her eyes and hold that shell up to her ear. She could hear the ocean, of course. But she also heard the sounds and voices of her week at the beach. She heard . . .
The BAAAAAAAAHHHNNN!!! of the fishing boat’s horn under the causeway.
Her father snoring as they covered hi
m with sand.
The metal detector beeping when it located metal.
The thwap of sails filling with wind.
Jason yelling, “Fire!”
The booosh! of a beach ball bursting on the Whereami.
Cheers and clapping for Jason and his pirates.
Amelia Bedelia could even smell the smells of the beach. The salt air, the sea, her father’s prizewinning clam chowder (which she had tasted and loved), the clambake, and the world’s best blackberry cobbler, bubbling and baking.
Aunt Mary had sent them a copy of the Beach Gazette with the write-up of the Beach Ball. The picture on the front page showed the smoldering pirate ship. But the article also featured a picture of Amelia Bedelia’s father under the headline FESTIVAL CROWNS “CHOWDERHEAD.” That clipping held a place of honor on their refrigerator for months.
Her mother had written “My hero!” above it.
Thanks to her cousin Jason, Amelia Bedelia’s dreams were now filled with pirate adventures. She would sometimes wake up from a sound sleep convinced that Flint the parrot had just swooped down on her, squawking, “Pieces of eight, pieces of eight!”
Then Amelia Bedelia would put her shell to her ear and let the ocean rock her back to sleep.
Ingredients
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
Amelia Bedelia Sets Sail Page 4