Restoring Harmony

by Joëlle Anthony

  Spill scooted onto the bunk until he was near the wall. “I told you, this is a runner.”

  The volume of the humming increased, and I watched in amazement as everyone’s hair slowly rose in the air and stood on end. Brandy and Michael burst out laughing and then we all joined in. “What’s happening?” I asked.

  “Static electricity,” Spill explained. “It’s a by-product of the Magno Waterborne Ocean Module.”

  Whatever that meant. It was pretty funny to see everyone’s hair sticking up, though.

  “Hold on, Molly,” Spill said.

  All the slow rolling as we wove our way out of the marina made my stomach turn over. I swallowed hard. Once we were in the open water, there was a loud whine from the engine and then we suddenly picked up speed. It felt more like flying than being on a boat. We could hear the water shooting out behind us, and it gave me this really powerful rush of adrenaline, which actually was kind of exhilarating.

  “It seems like we’re airborne!” I yelled over the noise.

  “Almost,” Spill yelled back.

  I was just thinking that it wasn’t so bad when the boat lurched to one side, tossing us to the end of the bunk, then flinging us the other way before we could regain our balance. On the third lurch, we lost our grip and were thrown onto the floor right at my grandparents’ feet.

  “What’s going on?” I yelled over the noise.

  “It’s the zigzag effect,” Spill explained, also shouting. “That’s why everyone else is strapped in and we wish we were.”

  I struggled towards the bed, and Spill gave me a shove onto the mattress.

  “What does that mean?”

  “The boat goes in a zig-” His words got lost as we slammed together. I’d never had Spill’s body pressed up so close to mine, and I think I would’ve liked it a lot if I hadn’t been about to lose my dinner.

  “The boat goes in a zigzag,” he tried again, breathlessly. “But I don’t really know how it works.”

  “I do!” Grandpa said, glowing with pride under the green pallor of his waxy skin. “There’s a computerized module that’s in sync with the magnetic float sensors, and it’s programmed to avoid hitting the swells of the ocean straight on. It sort of zips in between them, allowing for greater speed and less f riction.”

  “Less friction for who?” I yelled.

  The boat lurched again, sending me towards the floor, but Spill grabbed hold of my leg before I was tossed all the way out.

  “You two all right?” Grandpa yelled.

  “Is it like this all the way?” I asked.

  “Probably,” Spill said as we slid off the bed onto the floor again. We got back on the mattress, and Spill managed to get a grip, but this time we were crushed together.

  “Molleee?” Grandma called.

  “I’m okay,” I gasped.

  Brandy and Michael began to cry.

  “I feel like the chicken pieces Mom puts in a bag with flour and shakes up before she fries them,” I said.

  Spill gave me a wan smile, but he looked like he wished I hadn’t mentioned food. Eventually I got the idea of lying on the bunk and weighing myself down with Spill. Or maybe it was his idea. Either way, it wasn’t the romantic scenario I’d imagined. I clung to him around the waist, and he crushed me into the mattress. Still . . . having his body pressed against me like that made me kind of flustered. When I caught his eye, he actually blushed and turned his head away.

  After what might have been days, but was probably only hours, the boat slowed to an easy glide and finally rested, bobbing on the water.

  “Everyone okay?” Grandpa asked.

  His face was a lovely shade of green. Brandy had been sick and looked like she might be again. It was stifling hot in the hull, and the stench was enough to make me heave too. When the hatch opened and a rush of salty sea air poured over us, we all gulped in deep breaths.

  The captain’s face poked through the hole. “Canadian Coast Guard’s out in full force. We’re gonna have to go up north to Parksville or thereabouts.”

  “That’s great news!” I said. “That’s a lot closer to home.”

  Finally something was going our way!

  Spill and I lay on the bed next to each other not moving, letting our organs settle back into place. His warm body pressed against my side and relaxed me. I lost track of how long we floated with the hatch open. I might have even dozed a little.

  “I think we should try to stick together,” Spill said after a while. “But with the Coast Guard out there, we might have to split up.”

  “If we do, we should meet at the north end of town on the highway. It’ll be pretty easy for you to find it because there are signs that say Canada 1 everywhere,” I said.

  “Sounds good,” Spill agreed.

  The captain stuck his head through the hatch again and told us it was time to climb up on deck, but we had to lie low and follow instructions or he’d throw us overboard.

  Spill went first, and Grandpa lifted the weakened kids one at a time up to him on deck. Then we passed the luggage and Jewels up. Grandma and I followed. Grandpa brought up the rear. We all lay down on the deck, the ocean wind tearing at our hair and clothes, damp air filling our lungs.

  “Scoot on over closer to the railing and wait,” the captain said. “I’ve lowered the extra magno-floats so I’m getting enough lift to run this baby almost onto the sand and still get away fast if I need to, but you’ll have to wade in.”

  “When we’re all out safe,” Spill told him, “you’ll get the second half of your fee.” He slipped me the gold. We didn’t want the captain to know exactly who had the money.

  “And I want extra for the suitcase,” the captain said.

  “How much?” I asked.

  “Another piece of gold.”

  I started to argue, but Spill said, “Fine. I’ll cover it.”

  “It’s too much money,” I protested.

  “We’re not really in a position to negotiate now,” Spill told me. “I’m going first. Jack, you’re next. Molly, you hand down the kids and then help Katharine.”

  The captain scoured the shore with night-vision goggles. “Go now!”

  Spill was over the edge in a flash, and Grandpa flung himself out of the boat so fast he sent up a splash, drenching the rest of us. We handed down Michael and Brandy, and then I helped Grandma over the railing. She had a lot of trouble raising her right leg, but she got over in the end, and Spill steadied her as she landed in the water. I handed down the backpacks next.

  “Give me the suitcase,” Spill said.

  As I reached for it, so did the captain. “I’ll be keeping that,” he said. “If you think it’s worth a whole piece of gold, there must be something really valuable in there.”

  “There’s not! At least not to you!” I said. I grabbed the handle and pulled as hard as I could, but the boat was swaying on the shallow waves and my feet slipped on the smooth planks. In the distance, dogs began to bark.

  “Let it go, Molly,” Spill ordered me. “Hurry. Someone’s coming!”

  I yanked on it, bracing my foot against an old wood box. This was all my grandmother had left of her life, and I was not leaving without my half-sewn maid-of-honor dress, either.

  “Here’s your pay,” I said. I tossed the coins across the deck with a clatter. The captain let go and scurried after the rolling gold. I heaved the suitcase to Spill, grabbed Jewels, and had one leg over the railing when I froze. All I could see was black below me and it seemed reckless and crazy to just jump into it.

  “It’s only a few inches deep,” Spill said. “Come on!”

  The barking dogs got closer, and I could see a light onshore bobbing up and down. A flat hand smacked me square on the small of my back. “Get off my boat!”

  I toppled over the edge and landed on my butt in the icy water, holding Jewels over my head.

  44

  THE WATER WAS BARELY ANKLE-DEEP, AND I STAGGERED to my feet as the boat sped away. We all stood breathless in a
little knot.

  “Molly, you’re going to have to create a diversion,” Spill said. “Go towards the shore and start screaming for help. We’ll stand here as long as we can and then we’ll hide somewhere.”

  “North end of town,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

  “Who’s out there?” yelled a man onshore. The dogs barked and whined, plunging into the water.

  I took a deep breath. “Help! I’ve been thrown overboard!” I yelled. “Help me!” I took a few steps towards the shore, but then Michael began to cry. He screamed and yelled like someone was beating him. Grandma thrust him into my arms. I splashed forward, clutching him to me.

  A man with a lantern was waiting for us onshore. He whistled to the dogs, and four energetic Labs came running and sat at his feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I wanted to yell for joy. Of course I was all right. I was back in Canada! But I knew that I wasn’t home free yet. “I think we’re okay,” I said. “Just wet. And my brother’s scared of the dogs.”

  The man tried to help me by taking either Michael or the fiddle, but I held on to both. “Thanks, but I’ve got them.” Michael clung to me so tightly I couldn’t have set him down if I’d wanted to anyway.

  “What’re you doing out here?” the man asked.

  “I was visiting my grand-er, our grandparents in the States, and I paid a man to bring us home, but he dumped us here.”

  “You’re Canadians?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Got your passports?”

  “In my fiddle case.”

  “Come along.”

  I walked with the man up a rocky beach to a path leading through the woods, the dogs snuffling around at my wet feet. The man wasn’t more than a large dark shadow, and I couldn’t tell from his demeanor so far if he’d be nice or a rule follower.

  “Don’t you know that there’s a moratorium on all boat crossings into Canada?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.

  “Because of the polio epidemic in the States,” he explained. “You have to be examined by a doctor at a land crossing before you’re allowed into the country. No boats allowed until further notice.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know.” I was glad I didn’t have to look him in the eye when I told that lie or he’d probably be able to tell I was scared. “The captain never said. He just told me we couldn’t land in Victoria for some reason, and the next thing I knew he was tossing us overboard.”

  The man led us into a tidy log cabin with a roaring fire in the stove. That’s when I noticed he was wearing a RCMP uniform. He was a police officer? Crap.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Depends,” he answered. “How are you feeling?”

  “Ummm . . . fine.” I could see him now, and he was huge and hairy. He towered over me and Michael, his wild beard and furry eyebrows practically covering his face.

  “Been exposed to polio?” he asked, but he didn’t sound as if he really cared.

  I shook my head and Michael pressed his face into my shoulder. “No,” I said. “Not that I know of, anyway.”

  “That’s what they all say.” The officer sighed. “But it doesn’t really matter to me because they’ll never stop it. You’d think they’d know after all the flu pandemics that having everyone camping together is a great way to spread disease. If not polio, then something else.”

  That was exactly what Grandpa had told me too. And another good reason to avoid the camps, as far as I was concerned.

  “Wait here,” he said. He slipped into a back room and came out with a couple of blankets. I took Michael into the washroom with me, but I didn’t have anything to change him into, so I stripped off his wet clothes and wrapped him in the blanket. I was hoping one of my grandparents had my pack, because I didn’t have it anymore. I took off my soaked jeans and made a skirt out of the other blanket for myself. When I came out, there was a plate with a piece of smoked salmon and a chunk of bread on the table by the stove.

  “Eat,” he said.

  I dug my passport out of the inside of my fiddle case instead, and handed it to him.

  “Nice violin,” he said, eyeing Jewels.

  “Thanks.”

  He studied my passport by the light of the fire. “Looks all right, eh? But what about your brother?”

  “I . . . I . . . lost his. In the water.”

  He studied me. “Uh-huh.”

  “Really.”

  “Get some sleep. We’ll discuss it in the morning. I’m supposed to lock you up overnight, but I’ve got a bunch of men in the jail already who were tossed overboard earlier. You two can sleep on that couch.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “And thanks for the food.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t even think about sneaking off in the middle of the night. The guard dogs are outside, and I keep them just a little bit hungry.”

  In the morning, the RCMP officer made us a pot of oatmeal on the woodstove. He said I could play Jewels, but I stopped after the first song.

  “You really don’t mind?” I asked. “She’s awfully loud in such a small place.”

  “I like it,” he said.

  When the food was ready, I packed Jewels into her case and managed to talk Michael into eating a few spoonfuls.

  “Where’s Brandy?” he whined. “I want Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Shhh,” I said. That was the first time I’d heard him call my grandparents that, and even though it surprised me, I liked it. “We’ll be home soon.”

  I washed our dishes in a tiny sink and then I sat down on the couch with Michael, ready to find out what our fate was going to be. The only plan I had was to beg for mercy if I had to.

  “The way I see it,” the officer said, sitting in a blue chair across from us, “your brother doesn’t have a passport, and you want me to look the other way.”

  Michael buried his head against my shoulder.

  “And there’s the whole polio thing too,” he continued. “But we’ve already established I don’t care much about that. However, you do have something I want, so we trade.”

  He looked right at me, and I squirmed in my seat. There was only one thing I had that he could possibly want. I’m sorry, but there was no way I was going to have sex with that big furry man. Even for Michael!

  “I’m a minor,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

  “And I’m married,” he said. “I was talking about your violin.”

  “What?” I jumped up, dislodging Michael. “My dad gave me this fiddle. I can’t.”

  He shrugged. “Your choice. Let’s go.” He stood and opened the door.

  “Where?”

  “Down to the jailhouse. I have to scan your passport, and you’ll both need a physical. We’ll probably have to take your brother into foster care until we can verify his identity too.”

  Foster care? That might not be such a bad option. Mom and Dad could come back and adopt him. Or Spill could break him out. Yeah, that was a good plan. I’d let this man take him and then we’d follow Michael and get him back. I shook my head, trying to clear it. Was I crazy? I couldn’t let him take Michael.

  “They’re shipping most foster kids back to the mainland,” the man said casually. “Would make it harder to get him back, if he really is your brother. Ferries are pretty expensive these days.”

  I knew he was lying. Wasn’t he? He had to be. There was no reason to do that. Still . . . I glanced at Jewels’ case.

  The man smiled at me, knowing he’d won. Before I could change my mind or Michael figured out what was going on, I took him by the hand and we walked out the open door, leaving Jewels behind on the couch.

  45

  October 8th-Everybody wants a good life. Everybody wants a family and some friends. It’s just a simple truth. That’s what it all comes down to in the end.

  -Victor Mecyssne

  MICHAEL AND I SAW OUR GROUP SITTING UNDER A tree before they noticed us, but by the time we got to the little grove of fi
rs, everyone was standing.

  “Do you want a rest, or can we get going?” Grandpa asked.

  “We’re fine,” I said. “But what about you guys? Did you get any sleep?”

  “Under the stars, on the beach.” He sighed happily.

  “Nice,” Grandma said, smiling.

  “We had a fire,” Brandy added.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Before you go,” Spill said, “I need to talk to Molly in private, for a minute.”

  Grandpa gave him a stern look that almost made me laugh. “Don’t be too long,” he said. “We need to get moving.”

  Spill led me away from the road into the woods. The earth smelled like it should: damp, scented with pine. The needles padded my steps, welcoming me home.

  “Weren’t you guys freezing without the sleeping bags and stuff?” I asked. We’d left the camping gear with the Brothers.

  “I had a bunch of HyperFoil blankets,” he said. “And the fire helped. We weren’t exactly comfortable, but we did okay.” He stopped walking in a little clearing surrounded by a grove of towering fir trees. “So . . .”

  “So?” I smiled and brushed a stray curl away from my face.

  “I guess this is it,” he said. His blue eyes sparkled, and he held my gaze.

  “It?” I asked.

  “Time to go our separate ways.”

  This was stupid. We didn’t have to go separate ways. I grabbed both his hands. “Come back with us.”

  “Nah . . . I can’t, Molly.”

  “Just for a little while?” I asked. “Why not?”

  “Because,” he said, smiling, “I want your dad to take me seriously when he meets me for the first time.”

  “After all you’ve done for us, how could he-”

  “Seriously,” he repeated. “You know why.”

  My stomach gave a little flutter. He wanted Dad to like him.

  “Will you visit?” I asked.

  He took my hand and held it. “I’ll keep in touch,” he said. “I promise not to just disappear.”

  I couldn’t really imagine my life without Spill. I’d gotten so used to having him around. Even when I went weeks without seeing him, he was always on my mind. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.