9

By the time the sun was almost ready to kiss the horizon, Sarah had gotten over the worst of her nausea. While she certainly wasn’t about to give credit for the improvement to the ginger tea, and especially not her stepmother, she was grateful to be feeling better.

Sarah and Ahab perched near the front of the boat as it sailed east, away from the sunset. Captain Norm was at the helm, eating his dinner, while the others were down in the cabin eating theirs.

Apparently, their captain fit the brochure description of fully qualified chef, because he had slipped away from steering the boat about an hour before, then reappeared, proclaiming, “Soup’s on!”

Although she was feeling better, the thought of eating—even simply smelling food—was enough to make her gag, and she stayed above while the others descended to eat whatever gourmet meal awaited them. The ocean breeze felt good on her face, gradually cooling as the sun slipped below the waves. The first star appeared in the twilight, joined by others, rapidly multiplying as the sky darkened. The moon, half full, began creeping up the sky.

Sarah lay back on a towel and stared up at the constellations. Her dad had shown her a few on last summer’s trip to the Caribbean, but she only remembered one. She held her hand up toward the sky, tracing the lines of the Southern Cross.

Ahab barked.

She looked at him. “What’s a matter—” Then Sarah looked back up at the sky and froze.

The stars had vanished. As had the moon.

Ahab barked again.

Sarah sat up. Seconds before she had seen no clouds at all, but the stars were now … gone. How was that possible?

Captain Norm’s face was visible in the green glow of the control panel. He stood there, not moving, staring up at the sky.

Ahab barked and barked, not stopping.

Over the din, Sarah asked, “What happened?”

Captain Norm shook his head. “I think we’ve run into some weather.”

The breeze picked up. Sarah set her hand on Ahab’s head, but he wouldn’t stop barking.

Captain Norm said, “I don’t like the looks of this.”

Sarah stood up, almost losing her balance after sitting for so long. “Is it a storm?”

“Probably just a squall. You should go down in the cabin.” He took a long look at Ahab. “Take my dog with you. I’m going to furl the sail and turn on the autopilot. Can you send your dad up? I’ll need a hand with the sail.”

Although she barely knew him, the tone in his voice was not to be argued with, so Sarah didn’t even consider disobeying. She pulled on Ahab’s collar, dragging him. Not an easy task, as he kept barking and looking back at the captain.

When they reached the hatch, Sarah said, “Come on. We have to get below.”

But Ahab grew quiet and sat back on his haunches. He looked over at his master and began whining.

Captain Norm called over, “Go on, Ahab. Go on.”

Sarah forced herself to sound calm. “Come on, boy. It’s just a storm. We’ll be fine.” Even as the reassuring words came out of her mouth, her heart raced and her hands trembled as they grasped the dog’s thick collar. She didn’t know how bad the storm would be. She didn’t know if they would be fine. But she did know she needed to get that dog downstairs.

She set a hand on his massive head and his brown eyes gazed up at her.

“I promise. I’ll take good care of you.”

Ahab took one last look at Captain Norm, then got to his feet and headed down the stairs into the cabin. Before she followed, she glanced over at the captain. He was hunched over his controls, speaking into his handheld radio.

We’ll be fine, thought Sarah. He was already calling for help and nothing bad had even happened.

Just as she began to step down, a draft lifted her hair off her shoulders. And then, as the breeze stiffened into a wind, rain began pelting her face. She quickly took the stairs down into the cabin, and burst into the galley.

Ahab paced back and forth in the small space, his tail low, not wagging in the slightest.

Everyone else was seated in the booth, eating spaghetti from the looks of Nacho, whose chin was utterly orange.

John smiled. “Hungry?”

Sarah shook her head as she wiped rain off her face. “A storm’s coming.”

Yvonna frowned. “But the sky was so clear.”

“Not anymore,” said Sarah, surprised at herself that there was not a trace of snark in her words. She was too puzzled by how fast the storm had come up. “The stars disappeared and Captain Norm sent us down here.”

Her dad stood up. “I wonder if he needs help.”

Sarah said, “He wants us to stay down here.”

The captain hadn’t used those words exactly, but something inside Sarah told her she needed to keep her family downstairs. Well, her dad was her only family, really, but she didn’t want anything to happen to anyone on that boat. So a little white lie wasn’t going to hurt if it did, in fact, keep them all safe inside the cabin.

The boat began to rock, and then, suddenly, the dishes on the table slid to one side.

“Grab them!” yelled Yvonna.

Luckily, the edge of the table had a lip that stopped the dishes before the boys had a chance to react. Sarah picked up the pot of noodles and sauce. Together they quickly piled dirty dishes in the small sink and everything else in the cupboard above the sink, firmly securing the latch on the cabinet.

Sarah realized she’d better tell her dad the captain needed help. “Dad, I forgot. The captain wanted you to help him with the sail.”

John quickly headed up on deck.

By the time they were done cleaning up the dinner table, the thunder and wind and rain were so loud that they had to yell to be heard. The boat was all over the place, climbing up and then plunging so far that Sarah’s stomach lurched like she was on a roller coaster.

Her dad came back down.

Yvonna asked, “What’s going on?”

John said, “We got the sail put away and the skipper put the boat on autopilot.” He tried to smile. “Let’s go in and sit down.”

Grabbing at the knobs on the cupboard and then the table in order to keep her balance, Sarah followed him into the other small room and they all crowded together on the cushioned benches, no one saying anything. Sarah’s heart was pounding and she felt like she had to throw up again. Her dad put his arm around her. “You okay?”

She wanted to scream. She wanted so badly to stand up and shout, “No, I’m not okay! I want to be home! With you and me, the way it was!” If it weren’t for the Murillo three that is exactly where they would be. Safe and sound in Southern California.

But instead of saying any of what she was really feeling, she chose to share only a small part of it. She said, “I don’t like this.”

But no one answered her, because a second after the words came out, the lights in the cabin went out. They were in the belly of the sailboat, in the dark, in the middle of a maelstrom.

And then, finally, Sarah did let out the scream she had been holding in.