The drone of a boat motor roused me from my pre-dawn stupor. We’d been lying around the fire, taking turns keeping it going, but the sound of the distant motor got us immediately to our feet and on the run. I fell at least once, maybe twice. Byron got to the shore first, shouting and waving his arms to get the attention of the people on the passing boat. I was right behind him. Turns out it was an OPP vessel, all lit up like a Christmas tree. What a great present! A searchlight beam swept over us, then back again. Shouts came from the boat. It turned and headed our way.
“Sarah! Stay right where you are!” bellowed a familiar voice through the megaphone.
“Dad!” I shouted. “It’s my dad,” I told the others. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “We found Nathan!”
He didn’t answer immediately. Then he asked, his voice breaking slightly, “Nathan, are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay!” he shouted hoarsely.
“There are a lot of people who’ll be very relieved to hear that!” Dad boomed. “Are Garnet and Byron Hopper with you?”
“Yes! We’re all here!” I yelled.
“Good. We’re going to get the boat in position for you to board. This isn’t going to be easy!”
He was right. The OPP boat was a lot bigger than the tin boat, so it wasn’t able to wedge between the rocks closest to shore. The boat had to be manoeuvred towards the shore sideways, and those waves, while not as strong as when we’d arrived, were still relentless, rocking the big boat and scraping it up against the boulders. An officer in a wetsuit jumped overboard and helped each of us climb over rocks to the waiting boat, where Dad and another officer hoisted us, one by one, up and in. Nathan went first; I went last. We all got more than a little wet while boarding, reminding us how frigid that water was.
Dad gave me a tight hug when I boarded, but otherwise avoided my eyes. I can read him like a book, and I knew that although he was happy and relieved to have found me, he was also angry that I’d been lost in the first place. In other words, I was in deep doodoo. My only hope was that since we’d found Nathan, I might be able to convince him that the ends justified the means.
“My canoe!” exclaimed Nathan. Sure enough, a canoe had been lashed to the back of the OPP boat.
“We found it while looking for these clowns,” said Dad grimly, jerking his thumb towards Byron, Garnet, and me. “And I can’t wait to hear your story.” Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but Dad held up a hand to stop him. “But I will wait. For now, we’ll just get you back.” Nathan smiled gratefully as someone wrapped a blanket around him and led him to a seat.
A blanket was draped over my shoulders, and I joined the other three mounds huddled together. The officer in the wetsuit fetched our things, which we’d left at the fire in our haste, while the other officers rigged up the Tin Tippy for towing.
We were going home.
Even though it was the wee hours of the morning, there was a small crowd waiting on the dock when we arrived, including a couple of local reporters. Somehow they’d gotten wind of the dead-of-night rescue. As we jumped out of the boat onto the dock, we were immediately bombarded with questions and flashing lights. Nathan was engulfed in the arms of his parents before being taken away in a waiting ambulance. Garnet and Byron were embraced by their parents. Garnet beamed while answering the reporters’ questions. Once I disentangled myself from Mom’s bear hug, I hustled over to share the limelight.
I couldn’t believe it: We actually found Nathan! We were heroes!
Finally, Dad broke up the party. He told everyone that we needed to go back to the station and answer his questions. Byron and Garnet piled into the back of his car; I took shotgun. I loved any opportunity to ride in the front seat of a cruiser! The Hoppers and my mom planned to follow us in their vehicles. When Dad joined us, he slammed his door shut. I could tell by his grim face that he was furious. After the chaos on the dock, the inside of the car was deafeningly quiet. The look Dad shot me would have cut through steel. Yowza! For the first time ever, I wished I’d sat in the back seat. I hoped that having Byron and Garnet in the car with us would have saved me from a furious rant. It didn’t.
“When will you ever learn?” Dad asked, through clenched teeth. This was before we even left the parking lot, by the way. Then he said, “Don’t you ever do this again!” followed quickly by “When you get on that bus in the morning, you go to school. You have no business sneaking off somewhere else!” There was more; it actually went on for quite a while. I just sat there, stared out the window, and let him blow off steam. Finally, he stopped. I risked a sideways glance at him and wondered if he was really done. To my utter shock and astonishment, he was blinking furiously. Were those tears? Was my dad, the tough guy, crying? I’d rather get yelled at than see Dad cry.
“Sorry, Dad,” I mumbled.
He reached over and put his big hand over mine, grasping it firmly. It stayed there the rest of the way to the station.