chapter 22

A Discovery

Char was weak and frail, but he lifted his nose into the salty breeze and stretched his wings. It seemed to stir something in him, and he looked a bit more alert and eager. The fresh air was doing him good.

Lily stared down the embankment. “Now the tough part,” she said. “Getting down the cliff.”

“Yeah, believe me, you don’t want to do it like I did it last time,” Twig said grimly. “Let’s space ourselves out, so we don’t put too much weight in one place, or else the dirt may cave in. Hang on to sturdy weeds and roots.”

Off the group started, single file, carefully creating a switchback trail as they went. Overhanging vines and branches created handrails, and jutting rocks and roots helped with footing.

They crisscrossed their way downward, the air growing cooler and darker in the shadow of the riverbank. A forest of ironweed, goldenrod, and joe-pye weed towered over them, their flower heads waving in the wind, riotous with magenta and yellow and pink, thick with bees and beetles, butterflies and bugs.

At last the ground leveled out and they began to see, up close, the sea of flotsam around them. It was a landscape of every floatable object imaginable: uncountable plastic cups and plates, wooden boards covered with barnacles, bottles and cans, fishing nets, foam ice chests. . . . It was all here, washed up with the tide and waiting for thousands of years to biodegrade.

Twig, Lily, and Basil stared at the sea of debris around them.

“Imagine what could be made with all these parts,” Lily pondered.

“We should have no problem making a boat out of this stuff,” Twig agreed. “There must be a million boards and other pieces to use.”

“This is craziness,” Basil said. “What do we use to put the boards together? To actually build the boat?”

“Well, rope, or cord, to start with,” Twig answered. “There’s so much stuff . . . we’ll be able to figure something out, I’m sure of it.”

“Me too, Twig,” said Lily. “If we spread out, looking for good supplies, we can cover more territory. Let’s bring anything useful back here. If it’s too big for one, then give a yell and we’ll all come to help.”

Off they went, in different directions, Char lying in the shade of some mallow. Soon, from inside a thicket of reeds, Basil gave a yell.

“Over here!” he cried.

Twig and Lily raced over to find Basil perched on a large, irregularly shaped piece of packing foam, lodged in the weeds.

“See?” he said happily. “It’s light, we can carry it, and it will float beautifully. Perfect!”

Lily looked dubious. “You really think? Will it hold all of us?”

“One way to find out,” Twig said. “Let’s get it to the water and test it out.”

The three friends lifted the Styrofoam piece easily and started toward the water’s edge.

“Almost there!” urged Twig. He felt himself slip a little. “Hey! My feet are sliding! It’s muddy! We must be close!”

Snagging on weeds and driftwood pieces, they pulled the Styrofoam craft to the riverbank. It floated, but it proved too unsteady to be used as a boat; it rolled and pitched at the slightest movement, throwing all three of its crew into the water. Disappointed, they sat on the bank, studying the problematic boat.

“What if we added a float on each side, to steady it?” suggested Twig.

Lily thought for a second. “That might work,” she said.

“I saw some other pieces of the foam, out in the piles of stuff,” Basil added. “I bet if we find some other pieces and attach them to sticks, we could make side boats that would keep everything steady. Steady enough to take us downriver, anyway.”

The three of them set off into the mountain of debris, eyes peeled for possible pontoons. And then they saw it.

A huge glass bottle sat in front of them, partially tilted to one side, half in mud, half in the water, a giant cork in the neck end. Barnacles and algae grew along the bottom of the bottle, crusted and thick from ages spent floating in the water. The glass was dirty after sitting in the silt and mud, but the treasure inside was clear enough.

The tall, dark shape of a beautiful sailboat loomed above them.

“Do you see what I see?” Lily gasped.

“It’s . . . a ship!” murmured Twig. “Like a picture in a book, but much better . . . because it’s real!”

Lily spit on her paw and wiped away a bit of the mud. “I can see little round windows. And ropes going down the side. It’s even got a flag!”

Twig and Basil hurried to Lily’s side and wiped their own windows in the glass.

“And it looks like it’s in good shape,” Twig added.

Lily raced around to another spot. “Over here!” she called out. “I can see a name on it.”

“Captive,” Twig whispered. “It’s beautiful!”

“It looks like one of the sails collapsed,” observed Basil.

“That can be fixed, I’m sure,” said Twig. “It’ll work!”

Basil jerked his head around. “Work how?”

“It’ll work for our boat, of course,” Twig replied. “To get Char home.”

“You mean float down the river in this?” Basil gasped.

“Sure! Why not?” Twig said. “It’s the perfect thing! A boat already made for us! I saw one just like it in a book.”

“Yeah, well, maybe, except for one thing,” Basil said. “It’s trapped in a bottle.” He tapped the glass. “This stuff is thick. We couldn’t break it open if we tried.”

Twig let out a sigh of disappointment. The three sat in silence, pondering the situation, gazing at the towering boat.

Suddenly Lily let out a little chirp. “Hey! What about Char?”

“What?” Twig asked.

“Char! Char can blast through this glass. This is nothing to him. We’ll use him to free the boat.”

“That’s it!” Twig chittered.

“We don’t know if it even floats,” Basil said.

“We’ll test it,” Twig replied. He looked at Char a little doubtfully, gently stroking the dragon’s neck. “Char, buddy? Are you well enough? Can you handle this job?” He looked at the others. “We can try using Char to free the boat, but if he gets much worse, we’ll have to find another way. We can’t risk his life. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Lily and Basil said in unison.

Twig grinned. “Let’s free the Captive!”