by Brenda Beem
“I can’t look,” I moaned.
Takumi leaned over the side and inspected the damage. “It’s not that bad.”
I took a deep breath and slid on my stomach to the edge. Someone grabbed my legs. I knew by the current flowing between us that it was Takumi.
There were two dents in the hull, but I couldn’t tell how deep they were. Takumi helped me up and we made our way back to the stern.
“Cole, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to pick up the anchor. It’s all my fault.”
Cole closed his eyes and inhaled. “How bad is it?”
“Two pretty deep dents. The paint is intact and the dents are all above the water line.” I hung my head.
Cole nodded. “That’s good. Maybe it didn’t crack the fiberglass.”
I started to shiver. The wet guys looked as miserable as I felt. Then I realized. None of them had a change of clothes.
Dylan appeared on deck, squinted, and ran his fingers through his messy hair. “What’d we hit?”
Cole told him about the anchor swinging loose.
“How stupid can you be?” Dylan snarled at me.
“I told her to move the anchor,” Cole said. “It’s my fault.”
“I didn’t know how heavy it was.” Tears of frustration spilled down my cheeks.
Dylan glared at me.
I’d had enough. “I’m going below to change.” I ignored Dylan and threw a couple of towels at Takumi, Jervis, and Nick. “I’ll find you something of Dad’s to change into.”
Angelina was at the radio and Makala was still asleep when I climbed below. Angelina smiled encouragingly at me. “It will be okay.”
Obviously, she’d heard what happened on top. I wiped my eyes and I hurried to Dylan’s cabin. Zoë was on the bed with her arm over her eyes. I began to rifle through Dad’s closet. She didn’t move.
Dad had a drawer full of tees, two pairs of old jeans, three pairs of sweats, and a surprising number of lightweight jackets with names of companies on them. There was even a size-XL Seahawk sweatshirt from a football friend of Dad’s. It was the best bet for Jervis. I knew none of Dad’s pants would fit him, but I managed to find a pair of flannel drawstring pajama bottoms. I hoped they’d work. I didn’t find any boxer shorts, but there was a drawer full of socks.
Dylan and Cole probably had underwear in the packs that Mom and Dad left this morning, but they would kill me if I touched their stuff.
Jervis, Takumi, and Nick came down and stood, dripping in the main salon. I threw the pile of Dad’s clothes onto one of the couches and went to get some towels.
“Remember the color of your towel. Who knows when we will be able to do laundry? And find a place to hang stuff to dry. Throw your wet clothes up top for now. I’ll hang them up in the bathroom when I’m done with my shower.”
“Shower?” Zoë sat up on the bed. “You said we couldn’t take a shower.”
“I filled the sun shower, remember? You can share it with me if you want. We need to use it soon. When the sun goes down, the water gets cold.”
Zoë moved fast for a sick girl and stood beside me. “How does it work?”
I hung the nozzle end from the sun shower bag over the real shower head. “Push this nozzle back and you’ll get warm water. Spray yourself down and then shut off the water. Soap up, then rinse off. There isn’t enough water for you to wash your hair. If you’re careful, we should be able to get at least three short uses out of the bag.”
I glanced at Angelina and she smiled.
“This is salt water, right?” Zoë scrunched her nose.
“Yeah, but I promise it will feel good. If you dry off quickly, you won’t get salty skin. And Mom has lots of lotions on board.”
“Okay. Maybe a shower will make me feel better.”
I handed her a towel and brought out our collection of shower gels and soaps. They wouldn’t last long, but we might as well enjoy them for now. “Your towel is burgundy. Remember that. I’ll find you some dry clothes to change into. Yell when you’re done and I’ll bring them to you.”
I slid the bathroom door closed.
The guys were taking turns changing in the bow cabin. The jeans and tees were too big for Takumi. Nick’s tee fit, but the pants were too short. We waited for Jervis to come out of the bedroom.
“What do you think?” He pretended to strut like a model, but Whistler hit a wave and he had to grab hold. The blue and green Seahawks sweatshirt covered only half his stomach. The Christmas plaid pajama pants fit only if he shoved them below his waist.
He was embarrassed, but hamming it up to save face. He looked silly, but there was nothing else on board for him to wear. And that wasn’t funny at all.
Angelina was thoughtful. “The tape. We could make the end of the sweatshirt longer with—”
“Duct tape!” I grinned.
Takumi handed me the end of a roll we had left over from wrapping the sails. I cut a strip off a thick blue sheet. Angelina attached the material to the bottom of the football shirt with duct tape. Soon Jervis had a top that came down past his thighs. The gray tape and blue material almost matched the Seahawks colors.
Jervis grinned, mostly at Angelina. He really liked her.
If we survived, Jervis, Nick, and Angelina were going to be a problem. But first we needed to survive.
Chapter Eleven
Two Hours Before
I found a pink sweatsuit with little blue sailboats and handed it to Zoë through a crack in the door.
“Really?” she groaned.
The guys left to go back on deck. Makala whimpered in her sleep.
“I’m glad you figured out how to make a top for Jervis.” I turned to Angelina. “I think he likes you…”
A high-pitched wail erupted from the shower.
“Zoë!” I ran to the bathroom door. “What happened?”
“No! No! No! I can’t do this!” She banged on the door.
Dylan raced down the steps. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Zoë,” I pointed. “I think she fell.”
“Zoë, open up. It’s me.” Dylan knocked on the door. She didn’t answer.
“I’m coming in.” Dylan slid the bathroom door open. I peeked in around him. Zoë sat on the floor wrapped in a towel.
Dylan knelt beside her. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
She covered her face and sobbed. “This is too much. I want to go home. Now!”
He reached out to comfort her.
She pushed him away. Her arms flailed in the air. “I mean it. I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t.”
Dylan rocked her in his arms. “You’re seasick. You’ll get better. It’ll be okay.”
She wept. “No it won’t. I just took a salt water shower. Salt water! I’m wearing your mom’s dorky clothes. I’m sick. No more.”
“Come on, Zoe. We don’t have time for this,” Dylan whispered.
She began to sob. “You don’t understand. I don’t have any make-up. I don’t have my flat iron. I don’t even have a toothbrush.”
A stampede of footsteps raced down the stairs to the main salon. Takumi, Cole and Jervis all asked, “What’s going on down here?”
Makala woke up and began screaming, “Mommy, Mommy!”
Angelina dropped the hand piece to the radio and rushed to her. The rest of us just stood and helplessly watched Zoë and Dylan.
Zoë was hysterical.
Makala cried.
Jervis leaned into the bathroom and growled, “Knock it off, Zoë. You’re scaring Makala.”
Zoë sniffled and grew still. She took a deep breath, wrapped her towel tighter, and stood. “Dylan, turn this boat around. Right now.” She wiped her nose on her towel.
The burgundy towel was now hers forever.
“Come on. You know I can’t do that.” Dylan shook his head.
Zoë swayed with the boat. Dylan caught her in his arms.
Zoë had been seasick for hours. But she wasn’t hurt. As I was about to leave, she rea
ched for a hand towel, and started to dry her hair.
I frowned. Zoë’s hair was wet. She’d washed it. I shoved past her and turned on the water in the sun shower. Nothing came out. “You used up all the water,” I cried.
“What?” Zoë rubbed her eyes.
“You washed your hair. I told you not to!” I huffed and stepped out of the bathroom. “I dug out the sun-shower, filled it with sea water, and I waited all day for it to heat. I can’t believe you went and…”
“Well, excuse me, Little Red Hen. From now on, you can have it all because I’m out of here!” Zoë screamed.
We glared at each other.
Dylan frowned at me. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like there’s a shortage of salt water.”
“You don’t get it. I didn’t take a shower after swim practice. I’m all chlorine-y. She was supposed to share the water with Angelina and me. I told her not to wash her hair, because that would use up all the water.”
Zoë squeezed her eyes tight and pulled away from Dylan. Her fists lashed out in rapid succession. “I hate you. I hate you all.” Her left hand struck Dylan’s broken nose.
He yelped and jumped back. Zoë teetered and almost fell.
“That’s enough.” I pointed to the cabin she’d claimed as theirs. “Go to your room!”
Zoë grew still, her eyes wide. “Did you just send me to my room?”
Dylan held his nose. Blood dripped toward his mouth.
Cole and Takumi fidgeted and looked everywhere but at Zoë.
Zoë pushed past Dylan and came at me. I planted my feet and waited for her to strike. Cole and Takumi were suddenly beside me.
Snot ran from Zoë’s nose. This time she wiped it across her face. “You do this boating thing for, for, fun? You’re all crazy. I’m done. I’m going home. Do you hear me?”
“Everyone can hear you.” I gritted my teeth. “I promise to drop you off at the first piece of land we can find. Until then?” I pointed at the cabin.
Zoë glared at Dylan. “Are you just going to stand there and let her...?”
My brother shook his head. “No, I’m going up on top.” He snatched a wad of paper towel from a roll, shoved the wad up his nose, and left to go on deck.
“Dylan!” Zoë yelled. “Dylan, get back here.”
I grabbed her arm, led her to the bedroom, and closed the door behind me. She called Dylan’s name one more time, then began to sob.
Takumi and Cole were waiting when I came out. “What was that all about?” Cole asked.
“Zoë lost it. She’s sick and just realized she doesn’t have a toothbrush.” I grimaced as she wailed. “But that doesn’t excuse her from washing her hair.”
“Washing her hair?” Cole and Takumi looked at each other.
“She was supposed to share the sun shower?”
Cole put his hands in the air. “Okay, then. I’m going back on deck.”
Takumi stepped into the bathroom. “You know, I don’t have a toothbrush either.”
I hunted through the cabinet. Dylan, Cole and I had toothbrushes we’d left onboard. Mom and Dad’s were the only extras we had. I handed them to Takumi. “I guess we could boil these.”
Takumi went to the galley and rifled through the kitchen drawers. “Good.” He pulled out a large baggie. After I boil them, let’s put alcohol or mouthwash in the baggie. Nick, Jervis, and I can take turns with one toothbrush until we find some of our own.”
I made a face. “You’re just going to give one to Zoë.”
“You want to tell her she’s sharing?”
I smiled at the thought. “No,” I said.
Takumi put a small amount of water in a pan and put it on the stove.
Makala whimpered softly in the back bedroom. Angelina began singing in a sweet soft voice. The words to Ave Maria floated in the air.
Takumi held the pan in place. Soon it was boiling. I pulled out my phone, checked for service, and set the timer.
The boat rose on a wave. A loud male voice up on deck began to sing along with Angelina. Takumi and I glanced up at the cockpit opening. The tenor up on deck got louder as we came to the top of a wave, and then held the note after ‘Ave,’ for a few seconds as the boat steadied. He finished the verse while we dropped and crashed.
I clutched an overhead handrail. “Wow! Did you know Nick could sing like that?”
“No. But I really don’t know any of the guys very well.” Takumi shrugged.
When Ave Maria finished, Nick went right into Silent Night.
I checked my cell. “The toothbrushes have boiled for five minutes. Think that’s enough?”
Takumi sat the pan in the sink to cool.
I heard a sniffle. Angelina and Makala leaned against the bedroom doorway. Angelina’s eyes shone. The pair climbed the steps to the upper deck. Takumi and I followed the girls.
When we got up top, we found Nick leaning on the wheel. His head was turned up to the night sky and Silent Night still flowed from him. Angelina moved beside him and sang harmony. Makala joined in with the refrain. We all watched the twinkling stars.
Then I pointed. “Look!” A huge black shadow seemed to be crossing the night sky. Goose bumps covered my arms. Tears filled my eyes. The ash cloud was coming. Neither the government nor Superman had stopped it.
“Okay, guys.” Cole cleared his throat and took the wheel from Nick. “We have to finish up here and go below and secure the cabin.” He checked the time on his cell.
We shuffled around the deck, stowing anything that might fall off. Takumi stuffed extra life vests and fenders into the anchor locker to keep the anchors from knocking around.
“I’ve known you forever and never heard you sing,” I told Nick as I wound the lines up and taped them together.
“I guess I could always sing. My grandpa was some famous opera singer in Italy a long time ago. Most everyone in my family can sing, except for Mom.” Nick chuckled and taped the latches on the hatches down.
“But you never sing at school? How come you’re not in choir or any of the school plays?”
“I’d rather play sports and there’s not enough time for both. Mom makes us sing in the church choir. I hate it, except for some of the Christmas songs. If you think my singing is good, you should hear my sister Bella. She’s going to try out for the school musical in—”
Nick’s head dropped and silence filled the cockpit again.
We were all worried about our missing families.
Angelina, Makala, and Nick went below to shove towels into the fresh air vents and cover the openings with duct tape.
For the first time all day, I was alone with my brothers in the cockpit. Every few minutes Cole checked his cell and then the sky.
I pulled our rubber dinghy in tight while Dylan bent down and attached an extra line to it. His hands quivered almost as much as mine did.
“I saw you checking the dents in the bow. How bad is it?” I whispered.
Dylan grunted.
What did that mean?
I touched Cole’s arm. “Are we out far enough, now?”
Cole glanced back at the shoreline. We couldn’t see land anymore, but I wasn’t sure if it was because we were out far enough, or because it was dark. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
One by one, the group assembled back in the cockpit.
“Good job, everyone,” Cole said. “Now, go below and do the same there. Anything flying around will hurt.”
Makala tugged on my brother’s pants. “Mr. Cole, can we sing a song before we go downstairs.”
Cole smiled and nodded. “But make it short.”
Jervis appeared in the cockpit opening, his arms crossed.
Dylan scowled. “Are you crazy? We have less than an hour. We need to go below and—”
“What do you want to sing?” Nick interrupted.
Makala shook imaginary bells. “Jingle Bells. I’ll start.”
We joined Makala in singing Jingle Bells. She moved next to Jervis and took his hand.
When we came to the refrain, he joined in, singing off-key and loud. Makala giggled and rang her bells even harder.
I leaned into Cole. Dylan sighed and kissed the top of my head. Cole started to reach for his phone, paused, and gripped the wheel.
I wanted the happy song to never end.
Chapter Twelve
Zero Hour
The engine hum stopped. We watched in silence as Cole climbed down the steps, turned, and placed wooden planks across the cabin opening. He pulled the heavy glass hatch cover over the top until it met and latched onto the slats. A dark canvas sheet covered the glass. We were closed in tight. Except for the glow of the moon through the skylight in the center of the salon, it was dark. I flipped on a light above the radio desk.
We’d been busy. Everything that could possibly fly around was stowed. Dylan and Makala had gone around pushing in and locking the drawer and cabinet latches. Zoë was finally quiet behind the closed door in the bow cabin.
Cole flipped on the radio. “Why isn’t anyone listening to see if there’s an update?”
Angelina handed Makala to Jervis and moved to the chart table. Soon she was speaking into the mic, asking if anyone was listening. When there was no answer, she moved the digital monitor to the next higher setting.
All of a sudden a loud male voice responded to Angelina’s call. “This is the United States Coast Guard. You are unauthorized to use this frequency.”
“Sorry.” Angelina changed the setting.
Dylan raced over to her. “What was the Coast Guard frequency?”
“I think it was one-twenty-four, but we aren’t supposed to be using—”
“Go back, but stay silent. I want to hear what they’re saying.”
The voice we’d heard before was talking. “Six-Five, this is USCGC MIDGET Come in. Over.”
“This is Helicopter Six-Five, over.”
“See anything, Lieutenant?”
“Not yet, Sir. But you have company. We’ve counted fifteen small craft in the vicinity. Over.”