Intrigued, I ran down the stairs and into the main cabin, looking for someone who could help me retrieve the thing from the water. Our captain was standing at the main controls of the ship, methodically getting things ready for another day's journey to nowhere. He glanced at me, said hello, and then went back to his duties.

His name was Drake, but we all took the lead from his crew and called him Captain Tinkles. Now, there's something that just ain't right about calling a man Tinkles, but his crew referred to him by no other name. It had something to do with an old story from back when they were all in the Navy, but they refused to tell us the details. Every time I spoke with him, I cringed if I had to use the name. Usually, I just stuck with “Captain” and left off the disturbing second part.

“Captain,” I said, “there's something floating up near the front of the yacht that I think we should try to bring on board.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied. His voice was grainy, as if he were mixing cement in his mouth while trying to speak. He nodded his head toward the front window. “What is it, a retired dolphin or something?” He didn't laugh, so I wasn't completely sure it had been a joke.

“Just come look. I don't think you'll be disappointed. Do you have something we could reach down and grab it with?”

“Yeah, boy, if it's worth grabbin’. Come on.”

He stepped out of the cabin back into the open, with me right behind him. He grabbed a long pole with a net on the end of it from the supply boxes, and headed for the front part of the ship. Joseph, Rayna, and Miyoko had come out while I was talking to the captain, and they were up front pointing at the same object I had seen.

“Ho, there!” yelled the captain. “What you got your eyes glued on? You telling me this boy ain't lying?”

“Ah, good,” said Joseph in his whispery voice, the pale sun glimmering off his bald head. “I was just about to go looking for that.” He pointed at the net and pole. “So, Jimmy, I take it you saw this little gem, too, huh?”

“Yeah, I hope it's what I think it is.”

“There's no doubt that there's something inside of it,” Rayna said. She was a member of The Alliance, a mysterious group of people that had dedicated their lives to helping the Givers prepare for the inevitable battle against the Shadow Ka and the Stompers. Her disfigured face and strange green clothes no longer fazed me.

Captain Tinkles leaned out over the railing and reached toward the water with his pole. Our ship was huge, so he had to really stretch himself and extend the pole as far as he possibly could. After several failed attempts, one of which just about sent him swimming, he grabbed the shiny object with a final burst of effort and a heavy grunt.

“Aha! Got the little—”

“Watch your language, there, Tinkle-Boy,” said Joseph, cutting him off.

Tinkles pulled the long pole up, hand over hand, and then laid it on the deck of the boat. We all stared at the object, with a sense of reverent awe.

Dad came up from behind.

“What's everyone gawking at?” he asked.

When he saw the source of our wonder, he stopped short.

“What the—” He bent down and picked it up.

In one of those moments where you just can't help but state the obvious, Dad announced to everyone what we had just discovered.

“It's a bottle.”

He paused.

“With a note in it.”

Dad knelt down and we all crowded around him as he fumbled with the bottle.

It was green glass, the shape of an old-fashioned Coke bottle. Despite having floated in the largest washtub in the world for who knows how long, it was covered in spots with slimy dirt and grime. But the glass was just clean enough to see the rolled piece of paper inside, a magical note waiting to be read. A message in a bottle. It was something that everyone had dreamed about at one time in his or her life. I never knew which would be cooler, sending a message and having someone find it, or finding one sent by someone else.

We were all anxious, and urged Dad to hurry and open it.

He grabbed the twist-off lid, squeezed and turned. At first it didn't budge, but Dad strained until veins were popping out of his neck, and it soon gave way. He twisted the lid until it came off, and handed it to me.

He turned the bottle over, and shook it. The note was stubborn, and kept getting stuck on the lip of the bottle, not wanting to come out. Dad finally had to have Miyoko stick her little pinky finger in the bottle and slowly drag the piece of paper out. She handed it back to Dad.

He bent over and placed the note on the deck and unrolled the paper, spreading it out with his hands. He then read its message out loud, although we could all see it for ourselves.

The paper was white, and yellowed around the edges. In the middle, scrawled in black, was the message:

“My goodness. We have to help this man,” said Rayna.

“I don't think so,” was Dad's reply.

“Why not?” I asked.

Dad pointed to something at the very bottom of the page that none of us had noticed yet.

It was dated October 8th, 1963.

It was way too late for us to help the poor man. We would never go to the island he described, and we would never meet anyone named David Millstone. But his note, written decades earlier, would finally give us the break we so desperately needed.