“Yes!” He grabbed it and clicked it on. The boat may have been a piece of crap, but apparently the skipper spared no expense when it came to flashlights.
Clutching the edges of the counter, Marco moved to the bottom of the stairs and shone the light at the top. He glanced behind him, then carefully gripped the handrail and, despite losing his balance every time the boat rocked, he made his way up. He pushed on the hatch. The wind pushed back, and he had to put his shoulder against it, all of his weight with him, in order to get it to budge.
As soon as it opened, his face was whipped with drenching gusts of rain and seawater, which stole his breath. He didn’t see the sail anymore, and there was a slight green glow from the helm, where the captain was hunched over the instrument panel. Marco swung his flashlight around and the beam let him catch a glimpse of a white face.
“John!” he screamed, his words lost in the wind. What was his new stepfather doing?
John must have heard, or else seen the flashlight’s glow, because he looked over at Marco. With one arm, he held on to the rigging for dear life, while in his other hand he held a rope.
Marco wiped the water out of his eyes. What was he doing with—? And then his gaze went to the end of the rope and saw orange. Life jackets. John had come up to get the life jackets.
Ignoring the pounding of his heart, Marco stuck the flashlight in the deep pocket of his board shorts, and the beam shone straight up. With one hand he grasped the hatch, and then he stretched himself out to get as far as he could. The pitch of the boat kept throwing him off balance so that he could barely stay on his feet. Why do I have to?
He dropped to his knees. Immediately, he felt much steadier, and much less likely to get blown away. John followed suit. He dropped down and began to crawl toward Marco, one hand gripping the rope with all the life jackets. The boat hit the top of a crest and dove, sending John surging toward Marco.
Marco reached out and grabbed John’s arm, pulling him toward the hatch and the stairs. John managed to get a grip on the hatch and rest for a moment. He looked drenched and out of breath, but he yelled at Marco, “Get inside!”
Marco faced inside and went down a few stairs, but held out his hand for John to grab on to. Instead, John handed him the rope with the life jackets. “Get those down!”
Marco grabbed the rope and yanked hard. Then he yanked again, harder, and the tethered life jackets slid partway down the stairs. With that hand free once again, Marco held out his hand to John. “Come on!”
John took the hand and let Marco pull him inside. John shut the hatch and stood there, panting and dripping. Marco headed down the stairs, kicking the life jackets ahead of him as he descended, John right behind him. When they reached the bottom, John said, “Thank you. I don’t know if I would have made it.”
Marco nodded, too out of breath to say anything.
Together, they took the life jackets in to the others. Sarah’s eyes widened as she saw them. “Why do we need those?”
John said, “Just to be safe.”
Yvonna said, “It’s good to have them just in case. We don’t need to put them on.” She glanced up at John. “Right?”
John scratched his chin. “I think we should put them on.”
“What?” Sarah looked up at her dad.
Marco said, “It’s bad out there.”
Yvonna narrowed her eyes at John. “What were you thinking taking my son out there?”
“Mom!” said Marco. “He didn’t know. I followed him.”
“And it’s a good thing he did,” said John. “Now let’s put these on.”
11
Sarah tried to stop crying, but she couldn’t help it. Ever since the lights went out and she’d had to put on that sodden, stinky life jacket, she just gave up and sat there on the cabin floor, wiping her nose and sniffling.
The day, to put it lightly, had been a disaster all around. First she had spent most of it dizzy, nauseated, and throwing up, and now it seemed she was doomed to spend the rest of it huddled on the floor of a shuddering sailboat in the middle of a horrific storm, waiting for one final blow to send them all to the bottom of the abyss.
The thought brought fresh tears, which crumpled her face and caused her dad to remark, “Sweetie, are you okay?”
Sarah scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head. “I just want the boat to stop moving!”
John put an arm around her and crushed her face into his smelly life jacket. “We’ll make it through this,” he said. “The storm has to end at some point. And I’m sure the skipper knows what he’s doing up there.”
Sarah thought her dad did not seem the least bit convinced. His words, despite brimming with reassurance, did nothing to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wished to stop moving, to be still. Sarah held her breath, willed her body to freeze, but the boat itself wouldn’t stop the constant motion. Even if she stopped her own trembling, the boat refused to do the same.
Yvonna’s voice was shaky as she asked, “How long do you think it’ll last?”
John shook his head. “I have no idea. I don’t get how we could go from clear skies to this so quickly.”
Sarah wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself. The stars had been there above her, the sky full of them, and then they’d just blinked away.
Ahab nudged her arms and she lifted one, letting him snuggle up to her. His warm body felt comforting, and she put an arm around him. “It’s okay, boy.”
Nacho sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Maybe we should try and go to sleep.”
Yvonna ruffled his hair. “Are you tired?”
Nacho shook his head. “I was hoping I could go to sleep and it would be all over. Like when there’s a tornado watch at home, and you tuck me in the sofa bed in the basement, and when I wake up, it’s all over.”
Marco snorted. “You sleep through everything.”
But to Sarah, Marco sounded like he wanted that storm to be over as much as everyone else did. Maybe it was just easier to make fun of his brother than admit he agreed with him.
The sailboat lurched, more violently than before, and Sarah called out, “Dad!”
But John was staggering from one side of the galley to the other as the boat jerked, and then he started up the steps.
Yvonna yelled, “You can’t go up there!”
John stopped, took a deep breath, and then faced her. “What if he needs help?”
Sarah stood up, wobbling with the sway of the boat, and then dug her hands gently into Ahab’s fur. He led her to the galley. “Dad! Don’t go.”
“I have to see if there’s something I can do to help save…” Then he pushed on the door to the deck. He twisted back around. “Marco, can you help? It’s jammed.”
Marco climbed the few steps to the hatch and stood beside him. Together, they pushed and managed to open it a bit before it slammed shut. John said, “The wind is too strong! We have to try again.”
Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK and something slammed hard above them, causing the boat to shudder momentarily.
“Dad!”
Ahab was on his feet, barking at the hatch, trying to get past John, who glanced back at Sarah, before shoving his body into the door. “We’ve got to get this open!”
Marco stood beside him and they managed to get the door open. John slid through and was gone, Ahab at his heels, a burst of seawater pouring in where they stood as the door slammed shut.
I have to see if there’s something I can do to save …
Sarah hadn’t heard the end of his sentence. But she could imagine what he said, and she filled in the last few words.… the boat. Us.
They were in just as much trouble as she suspected they were.
She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped that somehow, someway, her dad and the skipper would save them all.
12
Dripping wet and out of breath, Marco leaned against the closed hatch. How could John go back out there? The wind, the rain, the weather conditio
ns in general … Marco had been so glad to get back inside, even though, with the careening motion of the boat, he wasn’t sure how safe being inside actually was.
And what was that crash they heard?
He swung his flashlight back down into the cabin. His mom’s face was pale, and her eyes were shut as her lips moved silently, praying, he supposed. She had an arm tightly around Nacho’s shoulder, his face hidden, buried in her chest, while Sarah sank down to the floor at the bottom of the stairs and cried.
Marco felt a little like crying himself. He was scared, more afraid than he’d ever been. The unknown: that was the thing that made his heart pound; the unpredictable nature of … well … nature.
And the helplessness. That frightened him too. No matter how skilled or experienced or talented Captain Norm was at sailing, it was possible the storm would win; take the boat down. And with it, all of them.
He needed to help.
Marco shoved his shoulder into the hatch, braced his legs, and pushed.
“Marco!” his mom yelled. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he focused on the door and managed to crack it open enough to jam his foot in the door. He shoved his way through, and the wind slammed the hatch behind him.
Rain and seawater pelted him in the face, forcing him to squint against the deluge. Suddenly, hands gripped him. John’s face was in his. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “You need to go back down!”
With the back of his free hand, Marco swiped the water out of his eyes and peered behind John. The cracked mast had fallen sideways and lay across the deck. Ahab was there by the mast, perched over something.
Something? Or …
Marco couldn’t breathe and his eyes widened.
Ahab was licking his master’s face. Captain Norm lay on the deck, motionless.
Marco’s mouth fell open.
John grabbed him by the shoulders. The storm was so loud he had to shout into Marco’s face to even be heard. “Norm is gone! I have to try and call for help.”
“Didn’t he already do that?” yelled Marco, choking on the water that blasted into his mouth whenever he opened it.
John didn’t answer. He grabbed on to the fallen mast for balance and made his way over to Ahab. He took hold of the dog’s collar and dragged him back to Marco. “Get him below!”
Marco gripped him, but Ahab was determined to go back to Norm. The deck was glutted with water, and Marco’s feet slipped out from under him, but he held on to the dog’s collar. Ahab tried to drag him back over to the skipper, but John got behind the dog and pushed. Marco got to his knees, and they managed to pull open the door and get the dog inside before the hatch blew shut again. Marco stood outside, a fierce roaring in his ears as the storm beat at him.
“Marco!” yelled John.
Marco faced his stepdad.
John said, “Don’t tell them! About the skipper. Not yet! Okay?”
Marco nodded. They pulled the hatch open and Marco slipped inside. Sarah knelt beside Ahab, wiping him with a kitchen towel. His mom grabbed Marco’s arm, her eyes darting all over his face. “Are you okay?”
He had barely nodded when she added, “Don’t do that again!”
Nacho told him, “I thought you weren’t coming back!”
Marco set a hand on Nacho’s head. “Sorry. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”
A few minutes later, the hatch slammed and Marco jumped as Nacho cried out and both his mom and Sarah shrieked.
John nearly fell back down the stairs, soaked to the bone, his eyes wide. “He’s gone.”
“Who?” asked Sarah.
John was panting, and had to stop and breathe before speaking again. “The skipper. Norm.” He shook his head, and droplets of water flew from his hair. “He’s gone.”
Marco was confused.
John had told him to wait, and now he was telling them? Before he could open his mouth, his stepfather looked at him. “I mean he is gone, as in not on the boat anymore.”
Marco felt his stomach drop and Sarah gasped.
Nacho looked up, his eyes red from crying. “Where? Where did he go?!”
Sarah cried, “He can’t just leave us!”
“He wouldn’t just leave us, sweetheart,” said John.
“Are you sure?” Yvonna asked. “How can he be gone?”
“I’m not sure.” John slumped down on the floor. “I went to use the distress call, but I couldn’t get it to work, and then … he was gone.” He put a hand to his forehead.
Yvonna said, “We need to look for him! He could be hurt—”
Marco said, “It’s terrible out there.”
As if to emphasize his point, the boat tilted horrendously to one side and paused there, causing Marco’s heart to stop, before the craft finally righted itself, only to tilt to the other side.
“Dad, what do we do?” Sarah’s voice was small and shaky, and John held out his arms to her. She crawled over to him, Ahab at her heels, and he embraced her as he looked at the others.
John cleared his throat. “We’re not going to go looking for the captain.”
Yvonna started to say something, but John’s expression made her stop. He said, “He was … he was already gone when we went up there. I mean—”
“Dead?” asked Nacho. His voice was shaky.
Marco put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. We think it was the mast.”
His mom’s forehead wrinkled. “The mast? What’s wrong with the mast?”
Marco exchanged a glance with his stepfather, who nodded and said, “The sound we heard was the mast falling. It’s broken.”
As Nacho ran to their mom, Sarah shoved her face into Ahab’s fur.
Marco remembered the headset. “We can call for help!” He shined the flashlight at the electronics panel he’d found earlier.
John made his way over and sat down in the chair. He put on the headset and starting pushing buttons. “SOS! SOS!” He paused. “Hello! SOS! SOS!” He kept flipping switches, shouting, “SOS!” now and then. After a few minutes, he took off the headset and put it on the table. He shook his head. “I don’t think it worked.”
Sarah asked, “What do we do?”
“We have to ride it out,” John said. “That’s all we can do.” He swallowed. “We have no choice.”
Marco made his way over to his mom, who put her other arm around his shoulder and squeezed. Marco had questions.
He wanted to ask, What if the boat starts leaking?
What if the boat capsizes?
What if—
But then he realized he already knew the answer.
Worst case?
They would go down with the boat.
Best case?
They would all be adrift in the ocean during a storm.
Either way, the chances of surviving …
Marco leaned his head on his mother, scrunched his eyes shut, and pretended she had never met John; they were still back in Texas, and had never even left home.
13
All night long they huddled in the cabin as the furious sea tossed Moonflight about, sometimes so violently that Sarah held her breath, thinking they were done for. She couldn’t sleep, not with her heart pounding and the rest of her body a trembling knot as she braced herself for each dip and sway of the boat. At least she was over her seasickness.
Yvonna, however, had crawled into the small bathroom earlier and was vomiting for a while. Sarah knew how she felt and couldn’t help but muster a little sympathy for her.
Ahab stayed by Sarah. He whined now and then, but he made no move to try to escape the boat, which seemed to help calm Sarah. The dog seemed to know things, and if he was content to stay on board the boat, then maybe … well, she hoped anyway, that it meant they would be okay.
Finally, she gave up and laid her head down in her dad’s lap. She knew she’d never fall asleep, so she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pretend she was in her room back in California. She lay there for hours, hoping they?
??d make it out alive.
And then she woke up on her side by herself, and there was … nothing.
Well, not nothing in the sense of absolute silence, but nothing in the sense of no rushing, howling wind, or beating rain and waves. There was no movement. She heard a trickle of water that seemed to come and go.
Was it over?
She sat up in the dim cabin, lit only by the lantern, whose battery-powered glow was fading by the minute. Her dad leaned back against the wall, his mouth hanging open as he quietly snored, Yvonna’s head on his lap. The boys were on their sides on the floor, both of them still asleep.
Sarah stood, but couldn’t stay upright. The boat was tilted to one side.
And the boat was still. Not moving.
She quickly undid the straps of her smelly life jacket and tossed it as far away as she could. “Ugh.”
And then she realized what was missing. Who was missing.
“Ahab?” Her voice was a whisper, but should have been loud enough for the dog to hear if he was on board the boat. She walked through the galley and over to the stairs. She looked up at daylight through the open hatch, then began to climb.
She’d been wrong. The hatch wasn’t simply open, it was gone entirely, ripped off the hinges by the fury of the storm. Sarah stepped on deck and was immediately warmed by the sun. The sky was blue, not a cloud to be seen. She froze.
The main mast was gone. All that remained was the bottom third, shards of wood where the rest of it had been broken off.
The deck was clear; everything that had been there the last time she’d been on top was gone, swept overboard. “Ahab?”
She stepped to the side of the boat that was tipped up, grabbed on to the side rail, and looked over. She gasped.
Only a few hundred yards away lay an island.
Moonflight had come to rest in a picturesque turquoise cove with a pristine white sand beach and thick, luscious palm trees. Her gaze went upward. Far beyond the initial line of trees, a green-topped mountain rose high above the rest. The place looked like a painting, far too beautiful to be real.
Sarah gulped. Had they made it? Was this where they had been heading all along?