20

The sun was a glowing tangerine, low in the eastern sky, when Marco woke up. He was sweating under the blankets and threw them off, knowing the day was going to be a scorcher. Sarah and Nacho were still asleep, Ahab nestled between them, and his mom squatted by the fire, holding a small pan over it with one hand as she held a wooden spoon in the other, stirring.

Yvonna carried the pan back over to the makeshift kitchen, and busied herself putting something together. Marco went over to her and she handed him a bowl. “Breakfast?”

He peered inside. Sprinkled granola lay on top of a scoop of something pale and creamy with streaks of pink. “What is it?”

Yvonna smiled. “Well, I cooked up the guava into a sauce and strained it to get the seeds out, then put in some vanilla pudding snacks and topped it with granola. Just give it a try.” She handed him a spoon.

He scooped up a small amount and tasted it. Crunchy, creamy, sweet, and just a tad tart. “I like it. Thanks.”

She smiled. Then she put a hand over her mouth.

“Mom?”

“Oh. I think my stomach is still—” She turned and ran a little ways away, then dropped to her knees just out of sight behind a tree.

Marco wondered if she was throwing up again. He called out, “Mom? You okay?”

“Just a little queasy still,” she called. “I’ll be fine.”

John came walking from down the beach. “Where’s your mom?” he asked.

Marco wasn’t sure his mom would want John to know she was sick, so he held up his bowl. “She made us breakfast and said she was going for a walk.”

John picked up a bowl and took a spoonful. “This is tasty.” He took a few more bites. “We’re gonna need our strength.”

Marco asked, “Are we going to the boat?”

John finished a mouthful. “I figured we could go into the hold from the hole in the side.”

“That sounds dangerous,” said Yvonna, who came walking up to them, looking much better than she had moments before.

“Mom,” Marco said. “We’re already shipwrecked on an island. I’m not sure how much more dangerous anything can get.”

She smiled a little. “Point taken. But I’m still going to worry.” She put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “I can’t help it, so just deal with it.”

“I’m pretty sure that thing is solid,” John said. “But we’ll be careful.”

They finished eating. Marco helped John drag the dinghy down to the water and they rowed out to Moonflight. John said, “The water is so calm this morning. I should be able to get pretty close.” He stowed the small oars and let the dinghy drift nearer to the ruined vessel.

Marco reached out with both arms and pushed against it. “Can you tie us off?”

John nodded, already reaching out with a rope. He looped it inside the hole in the hull, then pulled it tight. “I really don’t think the boat is going anywhere. But I want you to stay out here, and if it moves at all, untie and row away, okay?”

Marco nodded.

John reached up and started pulling wood out, making the hole bigger. He tossed the remnants aside and groaned. “This is going to be harder than I thought. This is nowhere near big enough for me to get in.”

“I can fit,” said Marco.

John shook his head. “No way. Your mother would never speak to me again.”

Marco didn’t exactly see a problem with that, but he said, “She can’t see us from here.”

John didn’t say anything, but Marco could tell from the expression on his face that he was considering it. So he added, “Really, I’ll be fine. Plus I weigh less than you. I mean, if the boat was gonna move, it would be less likely to happen with me.”

“Fine.” John blew out a breath. “But you’d better be careful.”

Marco nodded. “I will.” He crawled over to the side of the dinghy nearest the hull and grabbed the side of the hole. He stuck one foot inside, making sure the footing was solid, then pulled himself the rest of the way inside. John handed him a flashlight.

Marco flitted the beam around the cabin. The space looked about the same as when they’d left it, only with about six inches of water everywhere; he slowly made his way to the captain’s room. They had already collected the blanket off the bed, but he yanked on the thin mattress, which slid right off, and was easy enough to drag to the hole. But when he tried to fold it enough to fit through, the mattress filled the space, darkening the hold.

“Can you grab it?” he called to John. There was no answer, but the mattress left his hands and a few seconds later, the sun shined through again.

“Got it!”

Marco stuck his head out. The mattress nearly filled the dinghy. “Do you need to make a trip to shore?”

John shook his head. “I’m not leaving you out here.”

“Lemme see what else I can find.” Marco went back in. They had gotten most of the food supplies, but he found a canvas bag in the cupboard and filled it with whatever kitchen things they had left. In the next room, he noticed a book left on the shelf and stuffed it into the bag without looking at the cover. Then he went back into the captain’s room. The trunk was there, and again he tried opening it. The lock didn’t budge.

He curled his fingers around the leather handle on one end and yanked, expecting the trunk to be too heavy to move. But he was surprised at the lightness, and how easily he could move it in the water. He dragged the trunk to the hole, and then stepped into the sunlight. He handed the canvas bag to John. “Do you want more mattresses? There’s no way they’ll fit in the dinghy.”

John rubbed his chin. “Yeah.” He looked west, where clouds were building. “If we get another storm, this sailboat could sink. We better take all we can and then start pulling the wood.”

Marco stepped back through the hole and dragged the trunk out.

John tilted his head as he looked at the trunk. “What is that?”

Suddenly, Marco felt embarrassed. Given their circumstances, it seemed insensitive—greedy almost—to be hauling out a possession of their captain’s. “I think it was Captain Norm’s.” He shrugged.

His stepfather said, “Might as well bring it ashore. Maybe we can even get it back to Norm’s family one day.” He stepped forward and pulled on one handle as Marco pushed from behind. Once the trunk was settled, Marco scrambled aboard and helped John row back to shore. They unloaded and headed out to make another trip.

By the third trip, they’d retrieved everything of use from the vessel, so they headed back out to try and strip some wood. John lashed the dinghy’s rope to the boat, then began yanking at the wood on the side of the hole. The storm had loosened everything, and after a battle with the first few, they were able to yank several more off and pile them in the dinghy.

John sat down and picked up the oars. “Let’s take this load to shore. That’s enough for today. We can rest up and come back for more tomorrow.”

Marco asked, “We’re giving up?”

John said, “No. But we had a long night and can’t really build the platform today anyway.”

If they couldn’t get the rest of the wood, they couldn’t build a platform in time for that night, so when those crabs came back …

Marco sighed and sat down.

John would make them go to that little house. Though the day was hot, Marco shivered.