Mom freaks out. About everything.
“Poachers!” she says. “What are they looking for? Why would they steal the boat? What are we going to do?” She doesn’t forget to ask, “What were you doing out there, young lady? You were supposed to be at school.”
I’m about to confess. She’s so upset, and Dad still looks like a zombie. I can’t bear to lie to them anymore. I’m about to tell them everything when Saul walks in.
“Dad, what are we going to do without a boat?” he says. He slumps into the sofa and drops his head into his hands.
Dad closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then says, “The coast guard will get the boat back in no time. We’ll be fine.”
None of us believes it. Not even Dad. He shakes his head and sinks down beside Saul. Mom and I don’t move. Dad worked hard to afford that boat, and I don’t want to think about what will happen if the coast guard can’t find it.
Dinner is so quiet, we can hear the tide lap at the shore. Mom eats slowly, as if she’s thinking. Dad slumps against the table and hardly eats at all. Saul stares at the candle in the center of the table. He shovels his food in without stopping. I eat, but I can’t taste anything.
When we have finished with dinner, Mom clears the table and returns with four bowls and a tub of ice cream.
“We need this tonight, I think,” she says.
Dad sighs. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. I put everything into that boat.”
“Maybe I can get a job at the library,” Mom says with a smile. We all know she won’t make enough money to support the family and buy a new boat.
“You can’t give up yet,” Saul says to Dad. “There has to be something we can do.” He flings his spoon into his bowl and sinks back into his chair.
Dad says, “I’ll talk to the coast guard. I’ll head over there right now. Maybe they’ll find the boat.” He leans over and puts his arm on Saul’s shoulder. “It’s a start, eh?”
Saul nods but doesn’t look up until after Mom and Dad are gone. Saul and I sit and listen to the car drive away. When we can’t hear it anymore, Saul pushes his chair from the table and leaves the room.
I go to my room and lie on my bed. I stare at the ceiling. This morning I was worried about the sea otters, and that was all. I’m still concerned about them, even more now that I know there are poachers out there. But now I’m also anxious about my family.
How are we going to survive without a boat? What’s Dad going to do? I’m sure that Dad’s upset for Saul too. He was so excited that Saul was going to work with him this year. Now they’re both out of work. Dad must feel terrible about that.
I roll over and bury my face in my pillow. I drift in and out of sleep. At some point, I dream I’m playing with sea otters and Dad’s beside me in his own kayak. I wake up.
For a moment I’m happy. Then I remember what’s happened. I wonder if I should tell Dad about the sea otters. It might make him feel better. But why should I make him feel better when he doesn’t trust me?
He’s lost everything. The truth hits me in the stomach. I lean over the bed and retch. The stench fills the room.
We’ve all lost everything.
When my stomach settles, I get a rag from the bathroom and clean up my mess. A million thoughts run through my head, so many I can’t hold on to any of them.
Except one.
All night, the thought grows in my head. When I get out of bed in the morning, I have a plan.
It could backfire. I’m not sure if I should tell everyone about it. I walk down the stairs still undecided.
It’s strange to eat breakfast with Saul and Dad. Usually they’re long gone by now. Dad hasn’t shaved. He sits in his housecoat and shovels in eggs. He doesn’t look at me when I walk into the room. “Good morning,” I say.
He looks up and grunts. Saul sits in his sweatpants and stares across the room.
“What did the coast guard say?” I ask Mom, since she actually smiles at me. She shakes her head. “Nothing useful.”
“As usual,” says Saul.
Dad gives Saul a stern look. “Enough. Mark works hard.”
There’s no other conversation at the table. The silence sits on our shoulders.
By the time I’m finished my eggs, I’ve made up my mind. I can’t let my family go on like this, even if they don’t trust me. It’s unbearable.
“I have a plan,” I say.
Everyone looks at me. I take a deep breath and start. “There are sea otters around here. They’ve been there for a week. I’ve gone out every morning to make sure they’re okay.” Mom and Saul both lean forward. “What if we let it out that there are sea otters around that are eating from a bed of sea urchins bigger than any other on the coast? The poachers will come looking, but we’ll be there.”
Dad and Saul exchange glances. Dad gets up and walks around the table. None of us speaks as he paces around us.
Finally he says, “It’s an excellent idea, Maya. We’ll hide under the tree branches and wait until they come. It’s brilliant. We’ll let the coast guard know and all the fishermen. We’ll have a whole fleet of boats nearby in case they try to run for it.”
My heart sinks. Dad thinks this is a good plan. That’s great. But now I know for sure I’ve put the sea otters at risk. The thought of Gertrude and Oscar and Lilly getting hurt makes my skin prickle.
“Wait,” I say. “Before I tell you where the sea otters are, you have to promise to take care of them. I don’t want anything happening to them.”
Dad and Mom both nod. “Of course we will,” says Dad.
“Don’t you trust us?” asks Saul.
I look him in the eye. “Now you know how it feels,” I say.
Mom says, “She’s right, you know.”
We all look at her in surprise.
“They didn’t tell me either, Maya, so I know how you feel.” She catches Dad’s eye. He turns away. Then Mom asks, “Where are the sea otters, Maya?”
“They’re in Riley Bay, where Saul was standing sentry.”
Dad laughs. Saul says, “So that’s why you were there.” He shakes his head.
Dad rubs his hand along his chin. “Time to shave. I’ll go to the coast guard office and tell them the plan. Then I’ll go to the docks and talk about the sea otters.”
“You should get to school, Maya. You can let people know about the sea otters there,” says Mom. “I’ll go grocery shopping and talk about the sea otters in town.”
Saul looks at me with a frown on his face.
“What?” I ask, but he shrugs and walks away.
I stay at the table. It feels good to have a plan, but I’m still worried that I’ve done the wrong thing. What if something happens to Gertrude or Oscar or Lilly? I’ll never forgive myself.