That night we all met at our usual spot for dinner. The yacht came with a full crew, although they didn't mingle with us too much, and this included a chef. He was the best cook I'd ever come across, and I looked forward to every meal. So far, he'd only served peas once, and I made sure that he knew this was unacceptable. The entire staff, including the captain, was a mystery to me. Although they would end up seeing many strange things, they never really questioned why or how. And Joseph seemed to know more about them than he would let on.

The section of the ship where we ate was called the Mess Hall by the crew, and a massive wooden table and chairs filled the room and made it feel cramped. After the food was served (steak, shrimp, and potatoes) and we all dug in, Joseph kept talking about the note from the bottle, and how something from it was tugging at his memory, driving him crazy. We were no help, and soon Joseph drifted off into silent contemplation.

For the umpteenth time since our ocean quest had begun, I looked around the huge round table at all of my companions. Mom sat next to me, a look of worry an absolute constant on her face. Rusty was next, devouring his third helping of steak and shrimp, oblivious to the line of sauce dripping off his chin. Then sat Dad, wondering aloud at the fate of poor Mr. Millstone, stuck on that island so many years ago.

Miyoko ate with quiet reserve next to my dad while her eyes remained fixed on an indeterminate point across the room. Her father, Tanaka, sat next to her, his lack of table manners matched only by his bad jokes. They, along with Rayna, were also members of The Alliance. I wondered again if either of them had special powers like some of the other members of that group.

Then there was The Hooded One. Hood. The man who couldn't speak, but painted with his finger. The man who could travel in an instant by way of a red hula hoop. The man who had been through so much, and who had become such a close friend. As had Rayna, sitting next to Hood. She had the ability to manipulate photographs to show the future. It could be a downright spooky gift.

Then there was Joseph. Twice we had lost him, and both times he had come back. We hoped that this was one thing that didn't end up coming in threes, like plane crashes. I still felt that Joseph knew a lot that he wasn't telling us about, but I tried not to push him too hard for information. Sometimes there was such a thing as too much knowledge, and it was enough burden just thinking about the next task in our mission: finding the Third Gift.

Captain Drake, or Tinkles, and the rest of his crew ate with us sometimes, but usually kept pretty much to themselves. I was glad for that, because it was very uncomfortable talking about things in front of them. Tanaka spoke, jostling me from my train of thought.

“Hey Jimmy-san, you seem very quiet tonight. Make it much harder for me to make funny jokes about stupid things you say. What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” I took a sip of my drink. “I'm just thinking about all of us, and wondering if we're going to float in the ocean for the rest of our lives.”

Tanaka was just about to spew forth an interminable comment when Joseph slammed his fist on the table and stood up, revelation spread all over his face. Everyone's dishes jumped and clattered at the sudden thump, and Mom yelped in surprise.

“Joseph,” she said, “what's wrong?”

Without saying a word, he ran out of the room.

“Ah!” Tanaka shouted, after Joseph left the Mess Hall. He pointed his finger up into the air. “Joseph no wait when he gotta go, neh?”

Not even sure we knew what Tanaka was talking about, a couple of us gave a slight courtesy laugh, but we were mostly enthralled by Joseph's strange behavior. Dad was just scooting his chair from the table to follow when Joseph sprang back into the room. The yellowed and dated note was in his hand, his face lit with excitement. He must have finally realized what had been nagging at his mind.

Joseph grabbed his chair, dragged it around the table, and placed it next to my dad. Then he went back to the door and yelled for Captain Tinkles to come down. Joseph came and sat next to Dad, and soon the captain joined us, wondering what in the heck all the fuss was about.

“Okay, okay.” Joseph paused, and put his hands together and brought them to his lips, as if gathering his wits to explain something of great importance to all of us.

“All right, J.M., read this note again.”

Joseph handed the note to my dad, and with a questioning look, Dad did as he was told.

“Uh, please come find me … I am stranded … small island, blah, blah, blah, David Millstone.”

Dad handed the note back to Joseph, who looked like Dad had just called him a big dumpy dopey head.

“Excuse me, Mr. J.M. Fincher, you just blah, blah, blahed over the one part that I intended to point out. Now come on, humor me for a second, and read it again. Geez, you're getting as bad as Tanaka the puke magnet over there.” He jerked a thumb at Tanaka, who was trying his darnedest to retaliate with a comeback but, for once, came up empty.

Dad took the note back. “All right, sorry, it's just that we've all read this note a million times.” He cleared his throat, and read the note word for word.

“Please come find me … I am stranded … small island, 40 miles west of IDL … the place where yesterday meets to- morrow … 32 degrees latitude … David Millstone.”

Joseph took the note back. “We have all been feeling sorry for this guy, knowing that we could do nothing for him. This is true—hopefully someone else saved him after he threw this bottle into the ocean. But we completely ignored his directions to the island on which he was stranded.”

He sat back, and crinkled his brow, which set off an assortment of strange wrinkles on his hairless head.

“Okay,” Dad said, “what are you saying? We should go to this island?”

“No, no, no, not at all.” Joseph turned and looked at the captain. “Captain, uh, Tinkles,” (Joseph was as uncomfortable with the silly name as I was), “we have all ignored the term ‘IDL’ that was in the note. Can you tell us what that means?”

“Well, that's easy, my friend.” His voice was the sound of gravel being poured into a foundation. “It stands for International Date Line—some have given it the nickname that the note referred to. The place where yesterday meets tomorrow. His directions would make it very easy to spot the island he was stranded on.”

Joseph stood up and began to pace around the table.

“International Date Line. Captain, explain to us what that means, what it is.”

Tinkles acted happy to show off his wisdom on such things. “The IDL is the place in the world where the day officially changes from one to the next. In other words, it's where Sunday becomes Monday.”

Rusty was confused, and asked the captain what he meant. Okay, I was confused, too, and was glad that Rusty spoke up.

“All right, lad, think about time changes and time zones. As you move west to east, it gets later and later, hour by hour, as you enter the next time zone, one by one, correct?”

Rusty nodded.

“Well, the world has twenty-four time zones. If you didn't have the International Date Line, you would just keep getting later and later as you continued to travel around the world, eh, for infinity? The IDL is the place in the world, a theoretically drawn line, defined and agreed upon by the countries of the world, where you actually switch days.” The captain drew an invisible line in the air, and then pointed to one side of it. “On the east side of the Line, say it was noon on Monday.” He pointed to the opposite side of his invisible line. “On the west side of the line, it would be noon on Tuesday. Oh … dolphin-burgers, I never realized how difficult it can be to explain.”

Joseph slapped the captain on the back. “Nah, that was pretty darn good, actually. That's why some people call it ‘the place where yesterday meets tomorrow.’ Do you get it, Rusty? Jimmy? Tanaka?” Tanaka grumbled at being included with the kids in the question.

Rusty and I looked at each other, and then nodded. It seemed to make sense, although it was a bit confusing.

“Now for the kicker,” Joseph said, a proud look on his face. It was the look of someone who had finally won Monopoly after a ten-hour marathon game. “What if you could literally stand on this theoretical line, straddle it, with one foot on one side, and the other foot on the other side?”

He was met with a mixture of looks, most of them confused.

“The Tower of Three Days, my friends. The tower where it can be three days at the same time.”

I felt like things were almost making sense, but it still eluded me, like trying to see out of a frosted window in the car.

Dad interjected, also on the cusp of understanding.

“I can see where it could be two days at the same time, if you straddled the line, I guess. But where are you getting the third day?”

“Well,” Joseph replied, “it sounds crazy, but I'm confident that I'm right. Look.” He sprung up onto the table, his head brushing the ceiling. There was a crack down the middle of the table, a place to separate if you wanted to move it. Joseph put his feet on opposite sides of the crack. He then gestured to each side.

“Okay, this side of me is Monday, where my right foot is, and this side of me is Tuesday, where my left foot is.”

“Right, two days,” said Dad.

“No, don't think of it that way!” Joseph replied, with a hint of frustration at not being able to explain himself as well as he would like. “To my left foot, the right foot is in ‘yesterday.’ To my right foot, the left foot is in ‘tomorrow.’ To both feet, they think they are in ‘today.’ Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. My body would be in all three days at the same time. If this ‘Tower’ straddles the International Date Line, it would be as well. We know the Tower is in the ocean, where most of the IDL is located.”

We stared, letting it sink in. It seemed to click for all of us at the same time. Joseph was right. How could yesterday meet tomorrow without a today squeezed in the middle? He jumped down off the table.

“I say we head for the Line and travel along its path. Hopefully we'll meet the Tower of Three Days more sooner than later. Sound feasible, Captain?”

“Aye. It would be easy to maintain a path traveling along the Line. I'll alter our course right away.”

The words were barely out of the captain's mouth before everything changed in a chilling instant.

A frightful scream came from above, on the decks. It was the terrified yell of one of the crew. Without hesitation, we all headed for the door and climbed the short staircase out into the open air.

The night was dark, more so than usual because of a storm that had begun to creep into the area. The air was wet with mist. The man screamed again, and we saw him standing near the railing on the far side of the boat, pointing to the sky.

We could not see the object of his frightened attention.

But a sudden and dreadful sound filled the air. I felt my heart pause before it set to racing.

It was the clanking sound of metallic teeth.