Maggie approached Vera’s bed. Her cousin lay flushed against the white sheets, and some of her pretty blond hair had fallen out with the fever. Maggie fingered the brush on the bedside table that was filled with clumps of Vera’s hair. “Vera,” she whispered. “It’s me, Maggie. Can you hear me?” She touched Vera’s crimson cheek. “You’re so hot. Why do they put this blanket over you when you’re burning up?” With a swift yank, Maggie pulled the heavy quilt away from Vera. Then, wringing out a cloth from a pan of water next to the bed, she stroked it across her cousin’s forehead and down her neck and shoulders. “That’s better,” she crooned. “You’ll feel better when you’re cool.”
Vera’s eyes fluttered. Her parched lips mouthed a word.
“What is it, Vera?” Maggie sat on the bed, straining to hear.
“Ice.”
“You want ice?” Maggie asked.
“So hot.”
At that moment, Aunt Selina entered the room.
Maggie jumped up. “She spoke to me! She said, ‘Ice.’ ”
“Ice,” Vera muttered again. “Hot.” Her eyes rolled up, and her body began to shake.
“Grace!” Selina screamed. “Come quickly. Vera’s having a fit! Oh, God!”
Maggie’s mother raced into the room. “I’ll hold her down while you put a towel in her mouth. She’ll bite her tongue.”
Maggie watched helplessly as Vera’s body stiffened, her back arched, and her arms and legs trembled violently.
“She’s too hot,” Maggie stammered. “Make her cool. She wants to be cool.”
“Leave us be, Maggie!” Ma ordered. “She’s having a convulsion.”
Maggie backed away, suddenly sick to her stomach. “She begged me to give her ice.” Tears filled her eyes.
Ma and Selina encircled Vera’s twitching body with the quilt, trying to calm her down. Soon the awful jerking stopped, and Vera fell limp, unconscious again.
Ma looked over at Maggie. “Don’t cry, Maggie,” she said gently. “Please go home. We don’t want you to see Vera like this.”
Maggie went downstairs and out the door. Back on her porch, Sirius was sleeping in a patch of sun, one big paw clamped over his bone.
Maggie sat on the steps. I asked God how to help Vera, and when she opened her eyes she asked me for ice. But where could Maggie find ice? Once winter was over, there was no way to keep food or water cold. Meat and fish were preserved by sprinkling them with salt and drying them in the sun.
Maybe freshly drawn well water would be cool enough for Vera. That was the coldest water they had . . . except for the sea. Maggie took the water pail from behind the door and trudged down the hill to the well.
Bonnie Bay lay before her, glittering in the late morning sun. Out by Killock Rock Island, where the rocky cliffs enclosed the harbor like outstretched arms, the great iceberg shimmered, like an uncut blue jewel.
Ice, thought Maggie. Cold, clean, freshwater ice.
DANGER AT THE ICEBERG
MAGGIE RAN DOWN THE DIRT road to the dock where Pa tied up their red dory. She tossed the pail into the flat-bottomed boat and climbed in. The small boat tipped with her weight, and she was suddenly aware of the swells and whitecaps in the harbor. She looked out at the iceberg. Vera wanted ice, and Maggie was going to get it for her.
The boat teetered as Maggie scrambled to the stern. A box containing some of her father’s fishing tackle and knives was tucked under the seat. Among the tools Maggie found a small chisel. Good! She would use that to chip the ice from the iceberg.
She untied the ropes that secured the dory to the wharf and settled into the center seat. Maggie took hold of the long, wooden oars and began rowing out into the harbor. I’ll have to row gently so I won’t disturb the berg, Maggie thought. Sometimes icebergs would turn in the water, or large chunks of ice, called growlers, might break off from the mother berg. If either of these things happened, huge waves could swamp boats much larger than her little dory. Maggie shuddered as she thought about what it must have been like for the Titanic to have collided with that iceberg.
The harbor waters were like a giant sea monster, whose deep breaths raised and lowered the boat. The waves were heading toward shore, against Maggie, slowing her progress away from the wharves. Gradually, though, the shoreline receded. The sounds of church bells drifted on and off the breeze, and Maggie could make out the distant spire and the figures of the parishioners, some walking, others riding in carriages, as they left Sunday worship.
The waters around her had lost their aqua blue color and were now almost black. Threatening clouds were beginning to darken the sun. Maggie turned to see how far away the iceberg was, and gasped. There it was, looming just ahead, like a giant phantom. If the Titanic, as big and powerful as she was, could be destroyed by an iceberg, what chance could her little red dory stand against this massive, monstrous berg? I can’t go any farther, Maggie thought with sudden desperation. I shouldn’t have come.
But the ice. She had promised Vera she would get ice.
What was that eerie sound? Almost afraid to look, she scanned the choppy water. It was a growler, about the size of a barrel. The smaller iceberg made deep grumbling noises as it bobbed in the waves to the port side of the boat. I’ll chip off ice from that, Maggie decided. It’s closer and safer! She pulled hard on her right oar, turning the boat to port, then began rowing with all her strength. Waves were hitting the dinghy broadside, and the gunwales dipped into the frothing surf.
I’ll be swamped, Maggie thought. But then the growler was alongside, and Maggie managed to pull in the oars and grab the chisel, and she leaned over to the floating mound of ice.
The small iceberg bobbed away each time Maggie stabbed at it. Then, finally, as the dory turned slightly in the mounting surf, the ice stayed close enough for Maggie to proceed.
She chiseled at the ice, grabbing the loose pieces and tossing them into the pail. For one terrifying moment, Maggie almost toppled overboard as the dory rose and dropped in the swells. She shifted her weight to the center of the boat to stabilize it, but it made it harder to chip the precious ice floating alongside. All the while, Maggie tried to ignore the wind that whistled around her and the sound of breaking waves.
Maggie knew she should head back. When her pail was almost full, she set it carefully under the seat and rowed hard on one oar, pointing the bow toward the safe shore of Bonnie Bay.
Maggie had thought that rowing back would be easier since the wind was in her favor. But she had not counted on the turning tide. The harbor waters had become a swift current that tugged against her. Arching her body, she pulled the long oars with all her strength. Slowly, slowly, she moved closer to the village. Her arms felt as if they would break.
I won’t look, she thought. I’ll just keep rowing until I’m back. One, two, three . . . Maggie counted. When she reached twenty-two, she looked around. To her dismay, she had drifted away from the village and was heading toward the huge rocks that jutted out from the cliffs. Bearing on her right arm, she headed the bow toward the village wharves. She could see several people gesturing to her from the docks.
She could make out Otto and Cliff and a third dark form. Good! They’ll help me. Without thinking, she let go of the oars, stood up, and waved desperately at them. Then, suddenly, a huge swell lifted the boat, knocking Maggie into the bottom of the dory. The pail of ice tipped, and Maggie grabbed it, setting it upright again. Nothing could happen to that ice. She had promised Vera. . . .
Maggie reached for the oars. They were gone! She searched the pounding waves and saw them drifting away.
Now what would she do? How stupid! she thought helplessly. Again, she stood up in the boat and screamed, “Help me!” The boat tipped, and she sank down onto the seat again.
Otto and Cliff were climbing into a dory that was even smaller than Maggie’s. Could they make it in time to help her? The wind gusted wildly, and clouds gathered and boiled in the sky. Maggie’s boat drifted closer to the rocks.
Then Maggie saw the
third dark form on the docks leap into the water, making a faint splash.
It was Sirius. He was coming to help her.
“Go back, Sirius,” she called. “Go back!”
But the huge dog had disappeared into the tossing waves. Surely he would drown in the wild surf. Ocean spray and salty tears drenched Maggie’s face. In her eagerness to help Vera she had risked her own life, and now her dog’s and her friends’ lives, as well.
She scanned the black water. She could see Sirius’s huge head as he rose with the swells. Maybe he could help her.
“Come on, Sirius!” she cried.
The dog was approaching the boat, his shoulders heaving as his great paws reached out through the water.
Scrambling to the front of the boat, she gathered the bowline into her arms. “Here, boy,” she called. “Take the line and pull me in.” Treading water at the side of the boat, Sirius grabbed the length of rope in his mouth and headed toward the shore.
Maggie could feel the boat turn and tug. It had been almost impossible for her to row against the strong tide. Could Sirius do it?
Maggie spotted Otto and Cliff’s dory bobbing in the waves. She sank to her knees on the floor of the boat and watched as the dog struggled with his heavy load. “Please, God, save us,” she whispered, “and save my dog.”
Sirius had pulled the boat away from the rocks, and now they were headed in the direction of the wharves.
Finally Otto pulled up to her and grabbed the line from the dog. “Go back,” he ordered the panting Sirius, who treaded water, his eyes never leaving Maggie.
“Go!” Maggie yelled. “Good dog!” Sirius turned obediently and swam ahead. Maggie whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”
In the stern of Otto’s skiff, Cliff took hold of Maggie’s bowline while Otto rowed to shore with long, sure strokes.
As they pulled up to the docks, Cliff climbed out and tied the red dory to the wharf while Otto hitched up his own boat. Sirius staggered onto the shore and shook himself, sending off a spray of seawater.
“Come on, Maggie,” Cliff said, holding out his hand. “You nearly did yourself in on that trick.”
“Don’t be tongue-banging her,” said Otto, giving Cliff a stern look. “She’s feeling bad enough.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Maggie said as she climbed out of the boat. “Wait!” She turned back to retrieve the pail from under the seat.
Vera would have her precious ice after all.
NIGHTMARE
“OH, MAID,” OTTO SAID, SHAKING his head. “You gave us a fright. Why did you go out to the iceberg by yourself? Certain, now, you knew the danger.” Cliff stood silently by, stroking Sirius.
“I wanted to get ice for Vera. She begged for ice, Otto.”
Otto put his arm around Maggie’s shoulder. “I know how much you love your cousin. We all do. But we wouldn’t want to lose you, either, Maggie.”
Maggie avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I’m sure I’ll be in for it when I get home.” Sirius lapped her hand, and she dropped to her knees. “You tried to save me,” she said, burrowing her face into his wet fur. Sirius licked her face and whined. “You’re my bright star dog, and I’m so glad you’re all right.” Sirius wiggled excitedly.
“We’ll walk home with you,” Otto said. “Maybe it will be easier to face your ma with us there.” He took the pail from Maggie. “Come on, now.” He and Cliff started up the road..
Maggie followed them. “My mother’s at Vera’s, I’m sure,” she said. “I’ve got to go there first, anyway, before the ice melts.”
“We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?” Cliff said with a half smile. “Not after all the trouble you went to.”
Sirius lumbered along, stopping now and then to shake himself, sending a spray of salt water over everyone.
“He’s drying himself off right well,” Cliff said with a laugh, “but you’re getting even wetter!”
Maggie tried to smooth the wrinkles in her damp dress. Then she spotted the carriage and the horse. Pa was back with the doctor. Maybe Vera would be all right now. She saw Ma in the doorway. Had she already heard about Maggie’s expedition to the iceberg?
Otto spoke up first. “We’re back safe and sound, with some freshwater ice for Vera.” He handed Ma the pail. “How’s the maid?”
“Better,” Ma answered, looking into the bucket. “Where did you get this ice?”
Maggie cringed. Ma didn’t know what she had done, but Otto answered quickly. “Maggie had the notion that Vera could use some ice, and . . .” He paused.
Ma’s face paled. “The only ice is out in the harbor. The iceberg . . .”
“Oh, there are some growlers from the big berg not too far out,” Otto interrupted. “Maggie got hold of one and chipped off a bit.”
“We helped her bring it in,” said Cliff.
What they said is the truth, Maggie thought with relief.
“Anyway, take the ice to Vera before it melts,” Otto directed. “No sense wasting it.”
Ma nodded. “Come in,” she said, standing aside. Her gaze fell to Maggie’s wet clothes. “Then you’d better get home and change, Maggie.”
Maggie sat on a chair to take off her shoes. Uncle Norm and Pa were drinking tea at the table. Dr. Auld came down the stairs and joined them in the kitchen. “Maggie, Vera’s been asking for you,” he said.
“She’s better, then? I brought her ice.”
“You’ll be a nurse someday,” Dr. Auld said, patting her shoulder. “Your mother said you had tried to cool her down, and you were right, you know. She’s come around since we cooled her off and bathed her. Now that we’ve got healing herbs into her, I think she’ll be as right as rain.”
Maggie started to fill a tin cup with water from a pitcher.
“No, no, Maggie,” warned Dr. Auld.
“We mustn’t drink water from the well anymore,” said Pa.
“Use the boiled water from the kettle,” Uncle Norm told her.
Maggie was puzzled, but did as she was told and added chunks of ice from the pail. “I promised we would bring her ice,” she said with a grateful smile at Otto. “And we did.”
Vera was propped up against the pillows, her face pale since the fever had broken. Her eyes were closed, and her lashes were dark against her white skin. Her hair was all patches from the fever.
Aunt Selina stood at the window that looked out at the harbor. The iceberg was visible from this spot, as were the reef and the stages. Selina’s eyes locked with Maggie’s, and then she looked away.
She knows, Maggie thought.
Maggie sat on the edge of the bed. “I have a surprise for you, Vera,” she whispered.
The ice tinkled in the tin cup, and Vera tried to sit up. “Where did you get ice?” she asked in a weak voice. Her lips were parched and peeling.
“Out in the harbor. A growler from the big berg. Here,” she said gently. “I’ll help you.” Maggie held the cup to her cousin’s lips. Vera drank eagerly.
Ma came to the doorway. “Dr. Auld says that the well water is what made Vera sick. So now we must boil everything to kill the germs. We’ll need to find another well.”
“Fortunately, most of us only drink hot tea or water from the kettle. That’s why the rest of us are all right,” Aunt Selina said. “But we’re all in danger.”
“Where can we find another well?” Maggie asked. “There’s nothing but rock everywhere around here. We can’t dig for water.”
“Wish we could attach a pipe to that iceberg,” said Aunt Selina. “That’s the best water there is.”
Her eyes caught Maggie’s again. But Maggie was sure now Selina wouldn’t tell. Another secret, she thought. Eleven ravens.
“Cool and fresh and right delicious,” Vera whispered as she eased her head back against the pillows. Vera’s eyes closed, and Aunt Selina motioned for everyone to leave the room. But before Maggie left, Selina caught her hand.
“Maggie, Sirius is a marvelous dog, you know. The
two of you did a wonderful deed. Dangerous, but wonderful. No matter what the Rands try to do, we won’t let anything happen to that dog.” She squeezed Maggie’s hand.
“Thank you, Aunt Selina,” Maggie whispered.
Back downstairs the men were discussing where they might dig for another well.
“Old man Rand has a well big enough to serve everyone. It’s fed by a spring that’s on his side of the mountain,” said Uncle Norm thoughtfully.
“He doesn’t own the mountain or the water,” Pa said. “I don’t see why we couldn’t tap into it somewhere. Rand has enough water for all of Bonnie Bay, but he’d never share it with any of us.”
“Particularly you.” Otto sent a knowing look at Pa.
The words and the look were not lost on Maggie. There’s something going on between Pa and the Rands, she thought as she stepped out the back door. Sirius looked up and wagged his tail with loud thumps on the porch floor.
Maggie sat on the steps and patted his shiny head. “Why do the Rands hate us so much? There must be a reason, Sirius,” Maggie decided, “but no one talks about it.”
Maggie thought about those eleven ravens up at the quidnunc. A secret that will never be told.
* * *
That night, Maggie’s dreams were as wild as a stormy sea.
Maggie was in the dory all by herself. There were no oars. Mountainous waves tossed the small boat toward the towering iceberg, which loomed like a ghost.
In the water, her dog held fast to the bowline and struggled to bring her back to shore. Maggie watched in horror as the dog’s slick black head finally slipped under the surf and disappeared.
Sirius! Maggie tried to call, but the word was garbled.
Then out of the sea rose a figure dressed in flowing black. Maggie saw the waves ripple and foam and become a rustling petticoat. Above the tumultuous sea, rolling clouds gathered into straggly hair, and two stars in the sky melded and glistened into eyes.
It was Tamar, and she was laughing.
THE LOST TREASURE
MAGGIE AWOKE WITH A START. Her forehead was sweaty, and her heart was beating fast. The old hag who brings nightmares had visited her, and Maggie was certain something awful was about to happen. She struck a match and lit the lantern by her bed. What was wrong? Vera was going to be all right. Sirius was asleep down in the kitchen. Everyone was safe.
Star in the Storm Page 3