As a black-and-white puffin flew overhead, Bobby squinted, then gasped as the bird dove into the water, as fearless as an Olympic diver. Eager to see if the puffin would surface, Bobby ran to the rocks, ignoring Brittany’s breathless cries to wait.
From here, at the northernmost point of the island, he could see cream colored lines of surf rolling in across the rocky beach. The grandfather said they could not swim here even in summer, for the rocks were sharp and the currents treacherous. That’s why the lighthouse stood atop the hill, to warn sailors away. “Don’t you be thinking about getting into the water anywhere,” the grandfather told him right after he and Britt arrived on Heavenly Daze. “I’m not as young as I once was, and I can’t be jumpin’ in to save you all the livelong day.”
Shading his eyes with his hand, Bobby scanned the sea, hoping for a sign of the diving puffin. Several of the small birds bobbed on the surface, apparently at ease in the cold water. They didn’t worry about rocks or currents.
For a moment Bobby wished he were a puffin. They were funny little birds, but good swimmers as well as fliers. If he were a puffin, he could fly home to his daddy and make sure everything was okay, then he could swim back to the lighthouse so the grandfather wouldn’t be lonely. He’d spend Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays with his daddy, and live at the lighthouse on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays—
He stopped to count on his fingers. What to do with Sunday?
Brittany clambered over the rocks and stood below him, her nose making a funny little squeak with each breath.
“Grandfather will be mad if he sees you up there,”
she warned. Her nose whistled as she inhaled. “He’ll make us come in. If you make him mad, you might get smacked.”
“The grandfather doesn’t smack.”
“Well, then . . . he might send us back.”
Bobby froze, his outstretched hand before his eyes. This was another of Brittany’s fibs; she was just talking. But what would happen if the grandfather got mad? Would he send them back? Bobby didn’t want to go—at least, not to stay. He wanted to check on Daddy, that was all.
But if climbing on the rocks could make the grandfather mad enough to send them back—
“I’ll come down,” he said, squatting. He sat on his bottom, then slid over the ice-glazed rock, feeling the cold through the slick surface of his snowsuit.
He landed smoothly, his sneakers hitting the sand with a soft thud, and when he lifted his eyes, he saw that they were no longer alone. Britt turned, peering out of her hood, then she saw, too. “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”
Though a powder blue snowsuit encased the boy standing before them from head to toe, it wasn’t hard to recognize Georgie Graham’s round cheeks and sparkling brown eyes. The grin, too, was familiar, except now a gap appeared in what had been a perfect row of stumpy white teeth.
Brittany noticed the difference right away. “You lost a tooth,” she said, pointing to the space in Georgie’s smile.
“I know.” Georgie’s grin widened. “Got a quarter for it from the tooth angel.”
Britt giggled. “The tooth angel? That’s silly. It’s a tooth fairy! I see him on TV all the time.”
Georgie shook his head. “Uh-uh. Zuriel told me all about the tooth angel who lives on Heavenly Daze. Since God knows when even a puffin falls to the ground, he certainly knows when a boy loses a tooth. So at night, when a boy is fast asleep, the tooth angel will slip in and leave a quarter under his pillow.”
“That’s not right.” Brittany spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “I saw the tooth fairy on TV. He’s a little man with a bald head, and he wears a tutu and walks around telling people they aren’t brushing good enough—”
“Hush, Britt.” For no reason he could name, Bobby lost patience with his sister. “That’s TV, and TV is not real life. Heavenly Daze is real, so if Georgie says there’s a tooth angel, there must be.”
“I gots the quarter to prove it.” Georgie’s mittened hand reached into his pocket, then extracted a shiny coin.
Bobby and Brittany stepped closer and stared at the money, then Bobby nodded. “That’s proof, all right. I believe you.” He looked at his sister. “I never got nothing from the tooth fairy.”
Britt pointed to the backpack hanging from Georgie’s shoulders. “Whatcha got in the sack?”
“My paints.” Georgie shifted the bag and held it before his chest. “I have a tablet, watercolors, some brushes, and some crackers. Goldfish.”
Brittany gave Georgie a smile that proved she’d forgiven him for being right about the tooth angel. “I love goldfish crackers.”
Georgie nodded. “We can sit somewhere and eat while we paint. But not here—it’s too cold.”
He turned and looked toward the lighthouse, but Bobby shook his head. “We’re not supposed to bring anybody inside.”
Georgie pointed toward the town. “Then there.”
Britt shook her head. “We’re not supposed to go into town, either. We’re a secret.”
“You don’t have to go into town.” Georgie hefted his backpack across his shoulder and took a confident step forward. “There’s the bathroom, and no one ever goes there in the winter. But there’s a place to sit on the sidewalk, and a roof, and no one will bother us.”
Bobby looked at Brittany for a moment. He remembered the brick building that housed the public rest rooms. It stood right next to the lobster restaurant and across from the fire station. But there were no fires, and the restaurant was closed, so even though the bathrooms were in town, they were still far enough out that the grandfather shouldn’t mind . . .
“Let’s go,” Bobby said, leading the way.