The Keystone: Finding Home

by Seren Goode

  “Okay,” Linda announced loudly. “We think it’s best if you sleep here tonight. The pantry is fully stocked, and there’s plenty of diesel and water.” She looked to me. “You know about boats, right?”

  I nodded, uncertain where this was going.

  “But do you know how to sail?” Linda asked insistently.

  “Yes.” I blushed. It was one thing in my life I could honestly say I was really good at. “It’s been a while, but I’ve crewed with my parents since I was a baby in a life vest. We lived on board for several years. I’ve also solo sailed frequently. We had a smaller sloop than this but very similar.”

  “Good”—Linda breathed deep—“then you should consider using this boat to get to wherever you want to go next.”

  What? My eyes bugged. This was not what we were expecting.

  “We couldn’t,” Shim protested.

  I knew I was a good sailor, and it felt wonderful to be home on a boat again, but this was too much. Plus, we really didn’t even know where we were going next, especially now that Lincoln couldn’t provide answers. We needed to regroup and figure it out.

  “Just think about it. We don’t need to know where you are going, and this way, you would have complete freedom to leave the city without anyone noticing. You could call us and tell us where to pick up the boat after you docked.”

  “We don’t have a phone.”

  “How did Breeze call you?” Linda looked puzzled.

  Breeze panicked. “I…uh…”

  “Never mind, we don’t want to know,” Herb interrupted. “I left a burner phone for you on the counter. I programmed my number into it for emergencies, and I’m the only one with its number.”

  Herb and Linda climbed into the motorboat. “Don’t decide now. We will be back in the morning, and we can talk about it. Sleep well.”

  I numbly nodded thanks and waved goodbye as the brother and sister motored away from the sailboat.

  We were left alone to sort out our future.

  As Linda and Herb’s motorboat sped farther away, I sat down cross-legged next to Jaxon, feeling as lost as he looked.

  Jaxon groaned and stretched out on the back of the boat “F-ing great. Now we’re stranded on this floating toothpick”

  I sighed.

  Chapter 16

  The Explosion

  The shock wave woke me. It shook the boat, and before I could even remember where I was, it was followed by a whooshing noise. Amplified by the water, the explosion sounded like it was happening right outside.

  Someone screamed, and panicked shouts responded.

  Punching up, I leaped from the bunk.

  Within seconds of the sound, I was rushing out of the companionway onto the deck. Shim was already at the stern. Sunrise was hours away, but a red pre-dawn light was taking over the darkness.

  “What happened?” I blinked, trying see through the cloak of night. For a minute, I couldn’t remember why I was on a boat. It all flooded back as Shim grabbed my arm and turned me around. Off in the distance, a ball of fire sat on the water. It wasn’t the dawn that brought the red glow. Flames licked up toward a giant cloud of grey smoke hovering over the marina.

  “Something blew up!”

  We stood in shock, watching the flames leap as they consumed what we could see was the glowing remnants of a yacht. I’m not sure when everyone else joined us, but Jaxon was the first to speak. “I think it was a boat. What are the odds that a boat would blow up here? Now?”

  Dread filled me. The same thought had been on my mind.

  “Stars, this is getting dangerous.” Skylar sounded grim.

  “When hasn’t it been?” Shim challenged.

  Last night had been one of the best evenings we had in weeks. At Waters’ place, our time was all about training. In Sausalito, we had been stressed about making the connection with Lincoln. Here, even with the bewildering loss of Lincoln, we had finally felt safe, like we had a secure place and time to consider our options and make a smart move next.

  A stationary boat was a great hideout. But sailing a boat you didn’t know up a dangerous coast, that wasn’t smart.

  Last night, I had tried explaining this to everyone after Linda and Herb left. But the twins had found nautical charts, and they’d laid out their trophy on the galley table and looked at me expectantly. Surprised, I asked what they wanted me to do. With perfectly straight faces, they told me they expected me to sail us to where we were going next. I laughed. I thought they were kidding, but they weren’t. Instead of explaining the intricacies of sailing, I humored them while they cooked us dinner, checking the boat’s resources and looking at options. It had been comfortable below deck, the heat from the galley warming the space.

  The cabin was a pretty sweet setup. The thirty-five-foot boat made the most of its space. The galley on the right had a full kitchen with a stove and oven and an itty-bitty fridge. It was fully stocked. Beyond the galley, there was a table surrounded by cushioned benches that could seat at least six. Directly left was a small desk at the end of a long bench that functioned as a sofa with throw pillows. At the end, an open door led to the main sleeping cabin, which was really a trapezoid-shaped mattress on a box with room to stand only by the door. On the opposite end of the galley and on either side of the stairs leading down from the deck were doors. The right one, with better access, was the bathroom. The left one, behind the galley, was a small space for sleeping or storage.

  Watching the twins in the galley had been like watching synchronized swimmers or highly trained surgeons. They moved harmoniously as they passed off knives, bowls, and opened cabinet doors for each other, keeping up the nonstop chatter during their fluid dance around the confined space.

  I dug around in the seat pocket, found a copy of the Pacific Coast Pilot, and sat down at the table. “So where are we going?” I had asked with a humoring grin.

  “Washington,” Jaxon blurted out.

  Surprised, we all stared at him. Unfazed by the silence, he pulled papers out of the bag he, Shim, and Duchess were sharing. “I’ve been doing some research. We need to go to Seattle and then Portland.” He pushed the papers across the table to us. “I’ve narrowed it down to these geologists. I thought we could email them, but how do you put that in an email? ‘Hey, do happen to remember meeting five kids with a weird rock about twenty-five to thirty years ago?’” He paused for effect. “Come on, that’s not going to work. We have to go meet these guys and question them.”

  “But Washington?” Shim asked. “Waters just said they had been in the Pacific Northwest.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I researched the crap out of it, and there are only a few schools that have geology programs with mineralogists that would specialize in something like this.”

  “Guys”—Breeze stopped what she was doing to stare at us—“twenty-five years is a lonnnnnngggg time. How do we even know they are still alive?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I thought of that,” Jaxon responded. He was irritated. “Look, this is where we need to go. You either believe me or not.”

  “Calm down. We believe you. We just want to understand your research,” Breeze negotiated. “That’s a long way to sail.”

  “Hey, whoa! Why sail? I’m not sure you guys understand how difficult sailing from here to there would be. The water would be really rough. You’re already seasick, and we’re parked in the bay. Do you really think you could take open water?”

  They needed a hard reality check.

  “Maybe we should take a bus up,” Shim supplied. He had been researching ways out of the city. “We could catch a ride, maybe with Herb or Linda, up to Santa Rosa and get a bus. They might not be watching the stations there.”

  “Good idea.” I supported Shim’s plan. There was no way I was sailing an unfamiliar boat up to the Pacific Northwest. That would be the worst trip ever, if we survived it.

&nbs
p; A ringing sound pulled me from the memory of last night. The flames had died down, but the hull of the boat still glowed like a morbid nightlight.

  “Where is that ringing coming from?” Breeze headed back down into the cabin of the boat. “Hello?” She came up the companionway a moment later with Herb’s burner phone held to her ear. Eyes wide, she nodded several times, forgetting the person on the other end of the line couldn’t see her. “Uh huh, I got it. Thanks, Linda. I’ll tell them.” She was silent and, with a sad smile, finished, “Thank Herb for us. Good luck to you too.”

  Hanging up, she pulled back her arm and threw the phone over the side of the boat.

  “What are you doing?” I rushed to the edge.

  “Hey,” Jaxon shouted, his body following the arc of the phone.

  Confused, we turned to Breeze while Skylar slid up next to his sister. “What is it, BZ?”

  “That”—Breeze pointed, her pale arm lit by the bloom of fire—“is all that remains of Fly to Blue Too. Linda’s boat.” Shocked, we turned to the glowing horizon. “Linda and Herb weren’t on board when it went up, but they are at the marina talking to the firemen who say it looks like a bomb went off.”

  “Thank the Stars they weren’t on the boat,” I whispered. Wide awake now, we huddled in the stern, listening to Breeze recall her conversation with Linda.

  “Linda said that Herb thinks whoever killed Lincoln tracked us to the marina, and when we didn’t leave, assumed we were staying on her boat”—she pointed again—“and blew up the one registered under her name at the marina.” Eyes wide, I tried to absorb our most recent brush with death. “Herb says we should get out of here tonight and never contact them again. Wherever the boat gets left, they will eventually contact him as Lincoln’s trustee. He figures if we leave now, we should have a solid week before anyone can track us.”

  “Come on, let’s go!” Skylar grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. “Make it move!” He demanded, like sailing a boat was magic.

  “No!” I yanked my hand back. “Not like this. We can’t leave in the middle of the night with no planning.”

  But we also couldn’t stay.

  I hummed under my breath as I quickly tried to think of a way to make it work. “It’s too dangerous to sail off on an unknown boat without a plan. But,” I added as Skylar and Jaxon both tried to interrupt me, “if you all help me, we can get the boat moved to a different location so they will have a harder time tracking us. Then we can make a plan and leave at first light.”

  Everyone jumped in to help, following my directions to pull up anchor and start the engine. Could we pull this off? Sail up the coast on a strange boat with a novice crew? It’s not just any coast. The Pacific Northwest with its highly unpredictable weather patterns was treacherous for even a seasoned crew, but if it worked, this could be a real break for us, to be able to disappear from one city and turn up in a new one with no one the wiser. I itched to talk to Shim about it, the Shim I knew from conversations in my head, not the in person one. I still hadn’t reconciled the two Shims.

  Sighing as I stared at the still burning hull, I realized we were stuck between a rock and a hard place once again.

  Chapter 17

  Setting Sail

  A spray of water splashed high over the boat, giving me a hard, salty slap. I swiped at my face, then adjusted the course slightly. In spite of my misgivings, we had headed out early this morning.

  After the explosion the night before, we had changed anchor locations and found a new spot, still in Richardson Bay, but out of view of the marina. I had spent hours pouring over the charts and books and decided to take it one leg at a time. The first priority was to get us out of San Francisco and into a safe harbor somewhere else.

  I hadn’t been bragging earlier. I had a lot of experience on the water. My solo sailing had given me confidence I could handle most situations that would come up, and I accepted the risk to myself. I wasn’t comfortable with the risk to the others. In my opinion, they didn’t understand the peril.

  Then, there was Jaxon. It was obvious Jaxon hated boats; he had gotten sick looking at the Personal Flotation Device when I’d walked the others around showing them the safety features on board. It had been a big surprise when Jaxon had opted in for sailing. He said he would handle it because we needed to try and get out of the city clean. He had guts. I just hoped they wouldn’t be all over the bottom of the boat by the time we got to Seattle.

  After plotting a course for the next day, I grabbed a few hours of sleep and rose at first light to start checking over the sloop. This was the moment of truth.

  I had decided I wasn’t taking the boat anywhere if it wasn’t seaworthy. Turning the radio to channel fourteen, I listened to the San Francisco Vessel Traffic Service while checking the sloops’ body and seeing how she sat in the water. I turned on all the electronics one by one, then all at once to see if the electrical system could handle it. I started the engine, checked the condition of the oil, and ran the pump, which woke everyone up. I went through every compartment, every locker, every bilge space, hunting down where the tools, fire extinguishers, and flares were stored and found them all and a six-man life raft—which I hoped we would never need but was glad to have. Same for the water maker I found in a locker.

  By now, the twins had breakfast ready, and they were sitting with Jaxon, wide-eyed, watching me. I think they were finally getting how serious this was.

  Shim had stood with them at first, but when he started following me around and helping, I explained what I was doing and what to do with what we found. By the time I was checking the condition of the sails and lines, everyone was following me, so I gave a quick tutorial on how to behave when the sails were up. The in-mast furling sail with vertical battens was brilliant, similar to the system on our old boat.

  I was impressed. Fly to Blue was in primo condition. Lincoln had done an excellent job of maintaining her, and she was all prepped and ready to sail.

  “What do you think?” Shim came up the companionway as another spray of droplets rained down.

  “I think—” I paused, wiping water off my face and bracing for the rolling of the sloop. I was trying to think with my gut and my head and not let the adrenaline from the explosion influence me. “I think we can make it, but I’ll need a lot of help.”

  “You got it. But honestly, I don’t know anything about boats. Why don’t you explain what you are planning?” He offered up.

  I couldn’t believe his faith in me. I guess I was waiting for someone to point out I had no idea what I was doing and they would all leave me. After everything that had happened, everything that led us to this point, I was still constantly surprised any of them were still listening to me. They didn’t need me. They had each other. I couldn’t explain how much their faith in me meant to me and confused me. I didn’t have all the answers. I didn’t have any answers. And it burned me to think of all the times my mother could have told me the truth—and hadn’t.

  “I wish…”

  “It is what it is.” Shim interrupted my thought as if he was reading my mind. That was a disturbing thought. “I just mean you can’t make it perfect. We just have to focus on what we can do to get the best possible outcome with what we have.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. And we are lucky. The sloops’ a real sweetheart.”

  “That’s this boat? A sloop?” I smiled when Shim stumbled over the word.

  “Yes. The Fly to Blue is a beauty. A Catalina sloop, thirty-five-footer, well-maintained and well-used from the looks of it.”

  “Huh, you do know a lot about boats.”

  “It’s on the registration papers I found inside.” He gave a crooked smile at my admission. “So, from my review of the conditions and the notes I found in the Pacific Coast Pilot, we’ll need to motor sail up the coast.” At his confused look, I explained, “That means to use both the sail and the four-cylinder
diesel engine the whole way. It will be faster. The trick will be to not run out of diesel. We will have to do some harbor hopping. It will add a lot of time to our journey, but it will be safer since I can’t man the helm twenty-four hours a day, and with the lack of wind, we will need to refuel more frequently. Plus, the evening harbor stops will give Jaxon a break.”

  Shim nodded. “That makes sense. Can you teach me to sail-motor-drive-whatever, so I can help you?”

  “Sure, I can show you the basics. It will be good to have backup.”

  “Cool.” The muscles bunched in his arms as he plunged his hands into the pockets of his jeans, legs spread to balance on the moving boat.

  “I wish I could look online and get more information about what we are sailing into.”

  “If wishes were fishes…” Shim said.

  “You have a lot of those sayings.” Shim’s face relaxed into a laugh at my response.

  “Nah, it just sounds like something you would say.” He smirked.

  I laughed. “I suppose I can hit up the locals for advice as we go along. Ready for your first lesson?”

  “Now?” The smile wiped from his face, and he pulled his hands out his pockets and waved them frantically.

  With the city at our back, we were motoring along at four knots and about to pass under the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun was out, burning off the fog and showing the burnt orange struts of the suspension bridge in contrast to the brilliant turquoise sky. The rugged headlands in multi-hued shades of green stretched down on each side of the bridge to sandy beaches. Off our port, a harbor porpoise jumped out of the water, then shyly swam off when he heard us.

  “Now,” I confirmed with a smile. “Come here.” I showed Shim where to stand and gave him the basics of how to take the helm. Standing behind Shim, I reached around and realized even though we were close in height, his shoulders were much broader. I had to stretch to make the course correction.