Shipwreck Island

  Marco said, “Should we pick some fruit?”

  John nodded. “Definitely.” He pointed. “But let’s follow the stream a little ways first.” He headed past the fruit trees and Marco followed, reaching up to pick one of the mangos. He asked, “Do you have a knife with you?”

  John nodded and reached into his pocket, then unfolded a pocketknife and held it out to Marco. He cut off a slice and held it out to John, then cut off another and stuck it in his mouth, scraping the fruit off the skin with his teeth. He chewed and swallowed. “Oh, wow.”

  John grinned. “That is great mango.”

  They stood and ate that one and two more. Marco’s chin and hands were all sticky. He looked up ahead and grinned. “Avocado!”

  John shook out an empty mesh bag that he’d stowed in his pocket and handed it to Marco. “Go for it. I’m gonna see what’s up ahead.”

  Marco picked a few dark green ones off the ground that would be ready immediately, then chose a few lighter ones that would ripen soon. He jogged to catch up with John. The sound of running water got louder as they neared a corner, and then when they rounded it, Marco stopped and stared.

  A waterfall rose nearly thirty feet above them, then ended in a pool that fed into the stream.

  “That solves that mystery,” said John.

  Marco dropped the bag of avocados, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and cannonballed into the pool. He went down a ways into the clear, warm water, and then surfaced with a whoop. “It’s perfect!” he called. As he treaded water, he dipped his face under, wiping the last of the mango remains off.

  John took off his glasses and his shirt, stepped out of his shoes and jumped in. He emerged with a grin. “Wow. That feels wonderful.”

  They swam around a bit, then John said, “We should bring the others here. They’d love it.”

  Marco floated on his back in the crystal-clear water, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. If they had to be stuck on an island, at least they’d picked a good one. But as he lay there, relaxing, the whole thing seemed so perfect.

  Too perfect?

  He had a feeling that he wouldn’t want to be there at night.

  Marco swam over to the grassy side and got out. John did too, and they dried off as best they could, then headed back the way they’d come.

  At the fruit trees, they stopped and picked some of each types of fruit. Then they walked past the house.

  As they headed out of the clearing, Marco turned and looked at the house one more time. He knew he would come back to that place to help haul the water and pick fruit and swim in the waterfall pool. But only in the daytime. And, if he could help it, he would never spend a night in that house.

  Because, for some reason, he had a feeling that whoever had lived there … might just mind after all.

  17

  After the hallucination on the beach, Sarah was only too happy to spend the rest of the afternoon helping Yvonna and Nacho set up the camp in the shade. She had hauled a pile of coconuts from a tree down the beach, and then spent the better part of an hour trying to crack one open with rocks, to no avail.

  Then she helped Nacho find driftwood to add to the fire, which was blazing. Sarah sat in the sand next to Nacho, holding a stick out, the skewered hot dog on the end dripping juice onto the flames with a sizzle. She hadn’t noticed him put hand sanitizer on at all since he’d started the fire. Probably because he seemed as worried about safety as he was about germs.

  Nacho said, “I thought you were a vegetarian.”

  She lifted and lowered one shoulder. “Too hungry to be a vegetarian.”

  He sighed. “You just wanted to make my mom feel bad, huh?”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open. The way he said it, straightforward like that—no trace of accusation—made her feel awful. Because it was the truth. She’d picked up the PETA shirt online, but only because she liked animals, not because she wanted to be a vegetarian. “I was mad, I guess.”

  Nacho slowly rotated his stick. “Marco was too. He didn’t want Mom to get married.”

  “What about you?” asked Sarah.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes she seems lonely. I want her to be happy.”

  Sarah swallowed. She could say the same thing about her dad. “So you’re glad they got married?”

  “Kinda.” He nodded. “I mean, your house is way cooler than ours. I always wanted more brothers and sisters. But it was hard to leave home. I miss my friends.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. They would have had to leave everything back in Texas just so their mom could marry her dad. At least she got to stay in her own house.

  Before she could say anything else, John and Marco returned. John held the bag aloft. “Look what we found! Fruit!”

  Yvonna exclaimed, “I love mangos!” She took the bag from John and said, “I’ll cut some of these up.”

  Marco knelt in the sand on the other side of Nacho. He shoved a stick into a hot dog, then held it over the flame.

  Yvonna hugged John. “And did you find any water?”

  “Yep.” John nodded. “A waterfall and a stream!”

  Sarah asked, “Nice enough to swim in?”

  Her dad nodded. “Yeah, we did! It was like an oasis. We’ll go back with containers when we start running low.”

  “And to go swimming?” asked Nacho.

  “Definitely,” said John.

  Sarah said, “So if we do have to stay here for a few days, it will be safe, right?”

  Her dad nodded. “We have fresh water and fruit, and enough food to last until then.” He smiled. “We were already heading to an island, and I can’t picture a better one.”

  As they sat there, Sarah watched the palms fluttering in the warm breeze, then gazed around at the stunning alabaster sand and sparkling turquoise waves. She had to admit that, as much as she didn’t want to be there, the island was beautiful.

  Nacho asked, “Do you think this place has a name?”

  Yvonna said, “We should name it.”

  “Island of the Blue Waters,” suggested Nacho.

  “Right,” Marco scoffed. “Because no other islands have blue water.”

  Nacho crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “So what do you want to call it?”

  Marco said, “What about Island of Eco Boy and his Hand Sanitizer?”

  “Marco,” said Yvonna.

  “What about Shipwreck Island?” asked Sarah.

  Yvonna quickly raised her hand. “I vote for Shipwreck Island.”

  John smiled at her. “Me too.”

  “Fine,” said Nacho.

  Sarah glanced at Marco and he shrugged, so she said, “Shipwreck Island, it is.”

  John asked Yvonna if she wanted help slicing the fruit, and they wandered over to the makeshift kitchen.

  Sarah’s thoughts drifted, zoning out their conversation. She put her hot dog in a bun and shot a glance over at Marco, waiting for him to comment about her eating meat, like Nacho did, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even seem to notice. Marco was very quiet, too quiet, as he simply stared into the flames, his eyes glazed. His hot dog reddened and began to blister.

  Sarah said, “I think it’s done.”

  “Huh?” Marco seemed to wake up. “What?”

  Sarah pointed at his hot dog. “Unless you prefer charcoal in your bun.”

  “Oh.” Marco yanked back his stick and flipped it over. “Not too bad.”

  Sarah handed him the bag of buns.

  “Thanks.” He proceeded to wrap the bun around the dog and yank it off the stick.

  Sarah realized that was the longest he’d gone without saying something mean or sarcastic to her.

  Nacho asked his brother, “Did you see anything cool?”

  Marco took a bite of his hot dog and chewed. “The waterfall. That was awesome.”

  “What else?” Sarah lifted and lowered a shoulder. “I mean, there must have been more.” For once, Sarah was annoyed that he didn’t want to talk.

  ?
??There was a waterfall. And fruit trees,” he said with his full mouth, not taking his eyes off the fire.

  Nacho asked, “So what did you see before the waterfall?”

  Marco took an especially big bite of hot dog and chewed, not answering. When he had swallowed, he said, “Nothing else.”

  John came over to the fire and set down a plate with slices of mango, and some quartered papaya. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Marco shot a glance at him.

  John grinned at her and Nacho. “We found a house.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “A real house?” As the words left her mouth, she saw a shadow pass over Marco’s face as he suddenly looked uncomfortable, or maybe even in pain. He got to his feet and went over to the pile of things from the boat.

  Nacho asked, “Can we go live there?”

  John shook his head. “It’s a ways in.” He motioned toward the lagoon. “We need to stay here, near the beach, so that when the boat comes to rescue us, we can see it.”

  “Oh.” Nacho looked as disappointed as Sarah felt. She didn’t like being out in the open on the beach like this, much preferring solid walls between her and the outdoors. Not to mention, she really wanted to see that house.

  A breeze blew up from the water, causing the flames to flicker. A chill ran up her neck. Sarah looked out at the horizon, where the sun was beginning to lower. “It’s not going to storm is it?”

  Her dad sank down into the sand beside her and began to roast his own hot dog. “I don’t think so.”

  “What if it does?” she asked.

  John shrugged. “We’ve got a nice shelter in the trees here. We’ll be fine.” He put an arm around her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I just want to go home.”

  “I know.” He squeezed her. “Someone is going to rescue us. Soon.”

  “Until then?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Until then we sit here on this beautiful beach with this lovely fire and our fresh fruit and relax.” He looked at Nacho. “Right?”

  Nacho was well into his third hot dog and could only nod.

  Yvonna came and sat down next to John. He took his arm from around Sarah, switched the stick over, and put his other arm around his new wife.

  Sarah jumped up and headed down toward the beach.

  Marco sat cross-legged in the sand, well above the lapping waves, holding an open book in his lap.

  Sarah hesitated, then went over to him. “Wow, you’re actually reading?”

  Marco didn’t reply. He didn’t even look up at her. Instead, he paged through the book, snapping the pages as he searched.

  Sarah stepped closer. “Is that the bird book off the boat?”

  He nodded, but didn’t answer.

  “Are you looking for something?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed, and tossed the book into the sand beside him. “Something I can’t find.”

  Sarah sat down a few feet away and picked up the book. She started paging through it. “What kind of bird did you see?” She thought it might be fun to show him up, find what he couldn’t.

  “Don’t bother. It’s not in there.” Marco sighed and bent his legs, wrapping his arms around them as he stared out at the water.

  Although she’d known him for only a few days, she knew it wasn’t in his nature to cave like that, give up so easily. In fact, he sounded so dejected that Sarah closed the book. She asked, “What did it look like?”

  He mumbled something.

  “What?”

  Marco said, “That bird—that thing.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  Sarah started to say something, something on the order of “You’re not exactly a bird expert, there are probably hundreds of birds you’ve never seen before…” but she didn’t. Instead, she thought about what she’d seen earlier, or thought she’d seen. She shivered. “What did it look like?”

  “I don’t know.” Marco threw up his hands. “It was this huge bird and I only saw it for a few seconds. It was this red, this amazing bright red, with—” He trailed off.

  “With what?” prodded Sarah.

  He shook his head. “You won’t believe me.”

  A visual of that kangaroo creature popped into her head. Sarah hoped she sounded as sincere as she felt. “Try me.”

  Marco put both his hands on his face and rubbed his eyes for a moment. When he dropped his hands, he said, all in one breath, “That bird … just wasn’t right. It had these weird shiny golden eyes and four wings, two big ones in the front and two smaller ones in the back and—”

  Four wings? The bird book in Sarah’s hands began to tremble. She whispered, “And what?”

  He scrunched his eyes shut, like he didn’t want to see himself say whatever was coming next. “It had—” He swallowed. “It didn’t have a beak. It had … a mouth. A mouth full of teeth. Like seriously sharp teeth. What kind of bird has teeth?”

  Sarah didn’t answer. And her hands kept trembling.

  If Marco had seen what he thought he had … that meant there was an excellent chance that she had seen what she thought she had …

  Goose bumps rose on her arms.

  Marco said, “You think I’m crazy.”

  Sarah slowly shook her head as she turned to meet his gaze. “I don’t.”

  “Why not?” He rolled his eyes. “I would.”

  Sarah looked out to the ocean for a moment and watched the sun start to dip below the horizon. She took a deep breath before telling Marco, “Because I saw something too. Something that wasn’t exactly … right.” Before she could tell him about the kangaroo, a wail rose.

  The two scrambled to their feet and ran back to the fire as the sound grew in intensity.

  Their parents stood by the fire, Yvonna’s arms around Nacho, whose eyes were wide.

  “Where’s it coming from?” asked John.

  No one answered.

  The sound, a wordless stream of anguish and grief, seemed to come from everywhere at the same time. Sarah dropped the bird book and smashed her hands over her ears. She shut her eyes, hoping it would help, but the sound vibrated in her chest, making it seem like it came from inside her as well as outside her.

  Ahab began to howl.

  Beneath their feet, the ground trembled. Sarah screamed and reached out for her dad as Marco ran to Yvonna. The five stood in a huddle as the island shook with the sound of the wail.

  And then it was gone.

  Ahab barked once, then lay down by the fire, his chin on his stretched-out paws.

  Once again, they stood on still and stable ground, nothing to hear but the soft lap of waves on the shore and the snapping of the fire.

  John started to walk away.

  “Dad!” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

  He stopped and reached up, took off his glasses, and cleaned them on the bottom of his shirt. Then he replaced them and pointed at the fire. “I think we’d better build that up before nightfall.”

  Even though she was not the least bit cold, Sarah shivered.

  18

  Marco lay there, but couldn’t fall sleep. His mom and Sarah had used blankets and pillows to make up some halfway comfortable beds around the fire, which John had built up so that it roared. Flames flickered several feet overhead. A large pile of wood lay just outside the circle of stone, so they seemed to be set for the night.

  The firelight only stretched a few feet beyond their circle, and Marco tried not to look past where the light licked at the darkness. He had seen—and heard—enough for one day; he didn’t care to know what else lay beyond their small zone of comfort.

  A few feet away, Ahab was curled up between Nacho and Sarah. Now that Marco realized Ahab was an early-warning system, he liked the dog a lot more. And really, if the dog felt safe enough to sleep, he should be able to. He punched the pillow under his head and lay back down.

  His mom and stepfather had their backs to the fire and talked softly. He’d heard them earlier; their plan
was to stay awake all night. A little worrisome, really, if they thought they felt the need to stay awake to watch for … whatever might be out there.

  Marco found it impossible to get the picture of that bird thing out of his head. And he wished he’d had time to hear what Sarah had seen. Maybe she hadn’t seen anything and just didn’t want to be outdone. But his gut told him different. The tone of her voice had been serious, not snarky like she usually was. He believed her when she said she’d seen something. He didn’t know how anything could be freakier than that bird.

  As he rolled over, he felt a sharp jab in his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crystal bottle. The fire reflected in it, and Marco shook it slightly. The liquid inside danced, taking on the colors of the flames. He resisted the urge to smell the bottle, as he had before, and stuffed it into the pouch of his sweatshirt before lying back down. Why hadn’t he told Sarah about the bottle? Shown it to her?

  Marco didn’t have an answer.

  He shut his eyes, willing sleep to come. Just as he was dozing off, Ahab growled, then began barking.

  Marco’s eyes popped open and he sat up.

  His mom and John were standing up, watching the dog. Ahab barked at the trees, growing louder as he went on.

  Sarah and Nacho sat up on their makeshift beds, eyes wide. “Daddy?” called Sarah. “What is it?”

  Yvonna went and sat between Nacho and Sarah. She motioned to Marco, and he joined them, standing behind as they watched the dog. Ahab started to move toward the trees, barking so vigorously that spit flew from his snapping jaws. John was closest to him and began to follow, his flashlight beam leading the way. “Boy, what is it?”

  Marco saw John freeze as the dog began to lurch toward the trees, growling and barking.

  Then his stepfather whipped around, eyes wide, and sprinted back toward them, waving his arms. “Get up! Get up in the trees!” He motioned to the three trees above them.