The following morning, Granddad cannot get out of bed. He is very tired and his legs refuse to do what he wants. Even when Mrs. Greenshaw is summoned with her basket of ointments and pills, nothing seems to help. Finally, Dr. Gibson visits just before lunch. He examines Granddad and then tells him he must go to the medical clinic and have some tests done after he’s had a chance to rest.
Eddie remembers Granddad hanging onto him with the strength of an ironman so he wouldn’t fly out of the boat. He wonders how he could do that one day and be so weak he can’t stand on his feet the next. Eddie begins to worry that Granddad is weak because he used up all his strength rescuing him. For this reason he finds it difficult to accept the congratulations that keep coming his way.
“I hear you almost caught a whale yesterday.” Dr. Gibson cuffs Eddie on the shoulder. “Taking after your granddad. Way to go, sport.”
Mom almost squeezes the Shredded Wheat right out of him, and Fred gives him the thumbs-up on his way to the wharf. Grandma says he’s a chip off the old block—by that she means Granddad.
A new family moves into Eddie’s room after lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Backhouse and their eight-year-old twin boys. Eddie quickly discovers that the twins are even more annoying than Becky Northorpe. By mid-afternoon they are already complaining there’s nothing to do. Mr. Backhouse suggests they take a walk down to the wharf. Eddie watches them through the window. The twins are throwing mussels at each other and chasing the sandpipers with sticks.
At five minutes to four, Fred and Eddie help Granddad into the truck. He is not strong enough to walk to his appointment at the medical clinic in the village. Fred does some errands while Eddie throws a ball for Flounder in Mrs. Greenshaw’s yard where Jake is polishing their old wreck of a bike.
“I wish I’d been there when you caught that fish yesterday,” Jake tells him. “It must have been so cool. Maybe if I’d been there we would have been strong enough to haul it in together.”
“Maybe,” Eddie says.
“What are you doing after supper? We should go to the dump and look for a new chain for our bike. This one falls off every twenty feet.”
Flounder drops the ball at Eddie’s feet. He throws it for the ninety-ninth time. “If you want.”
“And some handlebar grips. These ones are shot. Look at this, the rubber is all dried out.”
“Yeah,” says Eddie. “I wonder what’s taking Granddad so long.”
Flounder is lying next to Jake and Eddie on the grass, his tongue hanging out like an old balloon, when Fred and Granddad pull up in the truck.
Eddie and Jake climb in. “So, what did he say?” Eddie wipes dog slobber off his hands onto his pants.
“Dr. Gibson says I’ll be fine,” Granddad answers, “with a bit of rest and some treatments.”
“Oh,” says Eddie. He wonders what kind of treatments, but Granddad says he’ll be just fine and that’s what’s important, so he leaves it at that. He does seem to be feeling a little better. Even so, Mom and Grandma order him back to bed as soon as they arrive home.
All through dinner, the Backhouse twins complain about the food Grandma has cooked. They prod the smoked salmon with their forks and poke their spoons in the shredded kelp soup. They tell their parents everything’s just too weird to eat. Eddie can’t think of anything less weird than kelp; it’s as common as rain where he lives. Mr. Backhouse tries to shush them, but he’s not very good at it. And Mrs. Backhouse seems too worn-out to say anything at all.
But Grandma doesn’t notice, or if she does, it doesn’t appear to bother her. She’s got other things on her mind. She’s wearing new glasses, and everywhere she looks, she’s discovering things she’s never noticed. In some ways this is good—she hasn’t tripped or bumped into anything since she picked them up from the drugstore. But she’s also noticing things that Eddie thought were just fine the way they were.
“Eddie, is that a hole I see in your jeans?” she’d asked just before dinner. “Good heavens, yes, it is! You take those pants off right now so I can mend them before anyone sees you like that.”
Eddie had taken the pants off, although it was far too late to be seen without the hole. It had been there through most of the school year.
Eddie helps clear the table after dinner before heading to Jake’s and the dump. “Eddie,” Grandma says as he’s about to go out the door. She stands before the kitchen sink, washing dishes. “Don’t you leave this house without tying your shoes. I can hear the laces slapping on the floor. You’ll trip and break your neck.”
Eddie looks down at his runners. The laces are knotted and they do trail along the cabin floor. He bends down to tie them. At the same time he wonders how a new pair of glasses can sharpen a person’s hearing. It’s not easy to get them unknotted and tied up properly because he hasn’t used them in ages, and although he’s tripped many times, he’s certainly never broken his neck.
Seagulls circle above the dump, dozens of them, screaming at Jake and Eddie. The boys have to climb a chain-link fence built to keep Trotter and the other bears out. Once they’re inside, they scout for old bikes in the new garbage. They know all the bikes and who owns them in the village, but now and again a tourist will toss one out. There are no new bikes, but Jake stumbles on a wooden wagon the size of a small tub.
“It’s got a broken axle,” he says after inspecting it, “but if we fix that, we can hitch it to the bike so neither of us has to walk.”
Eddie thinks this is a great idea. They could take turns between riding the bike and riding in the wagon. They then struggle to get it over the fence before the sky turns very dark.
Eddie lies in bed thinking about how they’re going to fix the broken axle. Granddad is not snoring so he also must still be awake. Eddie tells him about the wagon and asks his opinion on how to fix it.
“Where is it?” Granddad asks.
“It’s in the boat shed.”
With some difficulty, Granddad swings his legs over the bed and sits up. “I’ll tell you what. If we can sneak past your mother and grandmother, I’ll take a look.”
“Right now?”
“They’re in their bedroom. I can’t get past them during the day, so now’s our only chance.”
Eddie tiptoes to the door and opens it. The hall to the kitchen and the back door is dark. He signals for Granddad to follow. Granddad slips on his leather slippers and pads after him. They reach the back door where, as quietly as he can, Eddie turns the knob. Once they are outside, the moon is uncharacteristically bright, illuminating the yard. Eddie ducks beneath branches and keeps to the shadows as he leads the way across the damp grass. Granddad follows. They are almost across the yard when Granddad is forced to stop and catch his breath. Briefly, he leans on the table where he fillets fish.
“Ready?” Eddie asks when he hears Granddad’s breathing lighten.
“Ready,” Granddad says.
They continue on together and enter the shed as quietly as they’d left the house. Eddie does not turn on the light until both of them are inside and the door is closed.
The shed smells strongly of cedar. The hull of the boat Granddad’s been working on over the past two years is supported by sawhorses in the center of the room. Curly wood shavings litter the floor and the walls are hung with tools.
“So, where is it?” Granddad asks.
Eddie points to the other side of the boat, to the big wooden wagon he and Jake had salvaged from the dump.
Granddad whistles—softly so Grandma can’t possibly hear him. “What are you boys planning to haul in that thing?”
“We’re going to hitch it to the bike and pull each other around.”
Granddad steps closer. “Why, it’s as big as a taxi cab. You could start a business and charge people to take them around town.”
Eddie had never thought of that. He envisions Mrs. Greenshaw stepping into the wagon, tucking her long skirts around her, clutching her bag of medicines and herbs, and Eddie jumping on the bike, waiting for her instructions, and pulling her to the home of whoever is sick.
Granddad inspects the wagon and axle. “All it needs is a new rivet. I’ve got what we need right here.”
Eddie helps Granddad flip the wagon and he brings him the tools he needs. When he’s finished fastening the rivet, they flip the wagon upright again. After a shot of WD-40, it rolls smoothly, and Eddie is pleased. Granddad climbs aboard to test it. Eddie laughs at the sight of his old grandfather sitting in the wagon like he’s a little kid. He pulls him once around the boat.
They sneak back to the house along the same route they’d taken to the shed. Granddad stops more often to rest. Eddie waits each time before moving forward again.
Eddie is the first one in the back door. The kitchen light flicks on abruptly, even though he is not even near the switch.
Grandma stands in the doorway in her nightgown; her arms are crossed and her silver hair is a fuzzy mess. She stares at them, her blue eyes wide behind her new glasses. “Just where have you two been?”
Eddie and Granddad are too surprised to say anything immediately.
“Granddad was helping me with a project,” Eddie finally explains.
She glares at Granddad. “You know you’re not to get out of bed.” She then turns to Eddie. “And you’re not to be encouraging him. Now both of you, back to bed.”
Eddie and Granddad tiptoe past Grandma and down the hall again, even though there is no longer any reason to sneak.
Twenty minutes later, Eddie is lying in bed thinking about the fixed axle. Granddad seems to know he’s not asleep.
“Eddie?”
“Yes, Granddad?”
“I want to tell you a little more about the treatments Dr. Gibson says I’m going to need.”
Eddie sits up. So does Granddad.
“They have to be done in a big city hospital. It means I’m going to have to go to the mainland for a while.”
“How long?”
“Six weeks.”
This unexpected news causes Eddie’s stomach to twist and his throat to tighten.
“You said you were going to be just fine,” he says.
“Dr. Gibson thinks I will. But it is very important that I have the treatments.”
Eddie wants Granddad to be well, but six weeks is a very long time. He’ll be back at school by the time Granddad’s home again. His eyes begin to sting along with the pain in his stomach. If he comes home at all.
“Eddie, I know what you’re thinking. I will come home. Don’t you ever think that I won’t.”
Eddie wipes away the tear rolling down his cheek. He’s glad it’s dark and that Granddad can’t see his face.