Storm Tide (6 page)

What am I looking for? It suddenly occurs to me that the treasure could have been washed away with the tide dozens of years ago. This could all be for nothing. The thought makes me so disappointed that I feel like puking. But then I look around. The rock I'm aiming for is still above water, the tide licking around its edges. As I watch, a wave comes in, darkening a patch that had dried in the sun. Hope rises in me again, and the sick feeling is replaced with excitement.

My destination is only five feet away, but the water is higher than it was even three minutes ago. A wave crashes against the rock. I consider jumping, but if I slipped on the other side, I would hit my head. So I wait until the water recedes again, then launch myself and swim the five feet through the briny water. My fingers scrabble for a hold, and I pull myself up.

I'm finally on the rock that's only visible in the lowest tide. It is barely above water now, and it's covered in purple sea stars. Through chattering teeth, I laugh as I find a small spot free of sea stars to sit on.

Here are the stars that climb out from the deep.

I made it. But the rowboat is getting closer—close enough that I can see the wildness in Joseph's eyes.

He shouts, “It's mine! I've searched all year.”

I don't respond. If he thinks he can scare me away now, he's wrong.

Joseph continues. “You and your sister are pathetic. You even left your boat out for me.” He laughs, and my spine tingles. He sounds like the Joker in
Batman
.

As he talks, I search with my fingers around the rock face, under the small cracks, anywhere my fingers can go.

“What did you think you would find?” I ask as I keep looking, my fingers searching frantically.

Joseph laughs again. “You don't even know. Treasure, boy, treasure beyond your imagination.”

At last I feel something, and I pull.

A box the size of a man's hand emerges from a deep crack in the rock. I hug it to myself and shout, “Ellen, help!”

Joseph is almost upon me.

Chapter Fifteen

I have no time to stop and worry, no time to think about what might happen if Joseph catches up with me.

“Jump,” shouts Ellen. She's ten feet away. She points to a spot I could leap to. The tide is coming in fast, and everything looks different than it did minutes ago. I have to hurry—before the tide submerges my route back to shore. I take a deep breath, exhale and jump to the next spot that's still not submerged.

I look back. Joseph is closing in on me. He could almost reach out and grab my shirt. His face is purple with rage. He's spluttering madly at us. “You're ruining a life's work. You'll pay for this, you'll pay.”

I scramble as fast as I can among the rocks in the shallows, where the boat can't go, until I reach Ellen.

“He's trying to get out of the boat!” Ellen shrieks at me. I turn and see that he's stuck. The boat is knocking hard against the rocks as the tide rushes in. Soon he manages to steady the boat and climb out. He turns toward us. He looks murderous.

I grab Ellen's arm, and together we scramble, crawl, jump and run toward shore. I keep the box clutched to my chest, ignoring how it digs into my chest every time I jump. When we reach the shoreline, Ellen says, “Don't stop. He's going to follow us. I have a plan.”

She runs, circling the rocks, heading for the boat. The boat is floating closer and closer to us. Ellen leads us in a circle heading away from the boat, then turning quickly toward it so that Joseph is behind us. We are between him and the boat.

With a leap, Ellen lands on a rock and clambers over it. She lowers herself and gets her feet into the boat. She pushes off toward me, and I launch myself into the boat, nearly overturning it. I am still clutching the box. Ellen steadies the boat, and in a second we are clear of the rocks.

Ellen angles us back toward the deepest rocks, rowing wildly. Her arms pump and her hair swings with every stroke. I crane my neck around to keep track of Joseph. He's still only a few feet away. He looks like he's searching for a spot to jump into the water from. Why doesn't Ellen just row into the bay?

“What are you doing, Ellen? Row away!” I shout.

But Ellen just angles to the left and keeps rowing. Joseph changes direction again, and again comes closer. He's panting now, slipping on the rocks.

“Don't think you can get away from me!” Joseph shouts.

Ellen ignores him and keeps rowing, changing her angle again. I see what she's doing. That sister of mine is sneaky. She's pushing him farther out onto the rocks. She keeps circling, just out of his reach.

“You won't get away from me,” he shouts, and he leaps into the water. But the current is strong, and he struggles against it, his arms flailing.

He shouts “It's mine!” as he lunges toward us, but again the current pushes him back. Finally he grabs at a rock and pulls himself out of the water.

“You've trapped him!” I say to Ellen.

She nods. “Yep.”

I laugh and let out a huge sigh of relief.

Once the tide has risen enough that Joseph can't get off the rock, Ellen turns the boat toward our dock. She's rowing more slowly now, and her face is no longer fixed in a frown. It looks like she's trying not to grin. “He'll be fine until the coast guard arrives. That rock is always out of the water.”

I flop back against the gunwale. “I can't believe it. I found something. There really was treasure. I can't believe it, treasure.” I'm babbling. I can't help it. I'm frozen and exhausted, but totally one hundred and fifty percent thrilled.

Before we reach the dock, I see that two boats are tied up there. Mom and Dad are in the big motorboat, and Mark is on the coast guard boat. At last, at last! I sit up and wave and shout “Dad! Mom!” until they wave back.

“Thank goodness you're okay,” Mom yells from the water. “We radioed this morning, but there was no answer. Can you believe the storm last night? The whole city was out of power, even the coast guard. I tried and tried to call.”

Dad's head appears from behind the control seat. “I thought your mother was going to strangle someone when it was still stormy this morning. She was out of her mind with worry. But I kept telling her you two would be fine.” He hops from the boat onto the dock and catches the lead rope I throw to him. Man, oh, man, it's good to see them.

“It looks like you two have been up to something. What's this?” Dad points to the box lying in my lap.

So we tell them. Everything. Well, we leave out the fact that we skipped some of our chores. Mom climbs out of the boat and hugs both me and Ellen. Her face turns white when we get to the part about rescuing Joseph. Dad and Mark exchange a look, but they all look interested when we finally point to the box and say, “And that's the treasure.”

Dad whistles. I hold the box out for everyone to see. Mom says, “Simon, I think you should do the honors.”

I grab the box to my chest and say, “On dry land, please.” No way I'm taking any chances of this baby dropping in the water after all I've been through.

Now that I'm not trying to escape a madman, I take a long look at the box. It is very old, that's clear, and is made of some type of metal that has survived being under water for ages. There's a crease down the center of it, where I guess the opening is. “I…can't…open… it.” I grunt as I try to pry my hands into the crease.

“Let's see.” Dad takes a look. “It's been soldered shut to make it waterproof.”

“Does that mean we won't be able to open it?” Ellen looks so sad, it's almost funny. But Dad shakes his head and goes back to the motorboat. He jumps on board, and a minute later he waves something in the air and hops back onto the dock and then to shore.

“I knew this would come in handy one day.” He holds up a tiny crowbar. While I hold the box steady, Dad slowly, carefully, taps around the edges until the solder crumbles away.

Before I lift the lid, I look at each person in turn. Ellen's face is bright red. Mom holds her head in her hands. Dad is breathing heavily, and even Mark is staring at the box.

I lift the lid. “What is it?” says Ellen in a flat voice as I lift a circle of brass out of the box. I shake my head. I don't know. Tears sting my eyes and I blink. Until now, I didn't realize how much I expected there to be gold or jewels in this box. But there isn't. There's just this circle of brass. Worthless. Nothing. All that chasing after Joseph for this!

I'm about to let it fall back into the box, but Dad takes it from my hands and says, “I think it's a mariner's astrolabe.”

“Yeah…,” I say slowly. I've heard of astrolabes, but I've never seen a real one. It hangs from Dad's hand like a huge old watch with holes. Instead of two hands inside the circle, there is only one, with points at either end.

We're all silent for a minute. Flashes of gold and silver and jewels skip through my mind. I swallow to hide my disappointment.

“How does it work?” I ask.

Dad holds the astrolabe in front of him so he is looking through one of the holes. “You line up one of the holes with the sun, then move this arm around until the sun shines through another hole, then take your reading off these notches along the side.” He pushes at the arm, but it's stuck and doesn't move.

“It's broken,” I say.

“Crusted in salt and water,” Dad says.

“And they navigated with these?” asks Ellen.

Dad nods. “A long time ago.”

Ellen steps back. “I don't get it. Why would anyone call this treasure?” She's trying to hide it, but I know Ellen's disappointed too.

Dad's face is red with excitement. “Kids, think about it. Astrolabes were used between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries. After that they were replaced by compasses.”

It takes a minute for what he's saying to sink in, but then I say, “So this could really have belonged to Juan de Fuca.”

Dad nods. “Yeah, it could have.”

I take the astrolabe from Dad and hold it like he had, so the light shines through it.

“You mean I could be holding something that Juan de Fuca held? I could be holding something that he used to navigate his ship along the coast of British Columbia?”

Dad nods again, and this time he grins. “You've found a real treasure, kids.”

Mom's laughing and crying at the same time. Mark's just standing there with his mouth hanging open. Ellen's eyes are bulging. They all look like they've just been stunned. I bet I look the same, because I sure feel that way. I'm touching history.

A minute ago I thought this was worthless.

The thought makes me shudder, and I carefully place the astrolabe back in the box.

Dad sits down next to me. “Simon, this could mean many things, you know.”

“Could it mean Juan de Fuca sailed down the strait, not just across the mouth of it?” I ask.

“It could, if the riddle is true,” says Dad.

I lean into him, unable to speak.

Then Mark clears his throat. “Sorry to remind you of this, but there's still the matter of that man out on the rocks.”

“You're right,” says Dad, standing up. “I'll come with you. I think there'd better be two of us.”

Mom, Ellen and I watch as Dad and Mark gun the boat and round out of the bay to the headland toward Joseph.

It feels like forever that we sit there watching. None of us wants to move. The tide comes in some more. I get even colder and hungrier, but all I can think about is that something huge has happened.

Chapter Sixteen

Ellen and I sleep for about a million hours. When I finally wake up, Mom is setting fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee on the breakfast table, and Dad is cooking bacon, eggs and toast.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” calls Dad as I walk into the room. “How are you feeling?”

“Apart from the fact that my whole body is stiff and I have some pretty stellar bruises and cuts, I feel great. I'm starving.” I have no idea when I last ate.

“Well, eat up then,” says Mom.

After a huge breakfast, Ellen and I spend the day sitting around in the living room telling Mom and Dad details about our adventure. Dad frowns when we admit to missing some of our chores, but then he says, “Given the circumstances, I'm just glad you got any of them done.”

One thing that's cool is that I don't mind sitting here with Ellen. It's good to have someone to share these memories with who understands what it was really like. And not once in the whole time we're talking does she give one of her looks. She doesn't contradict me or butt in when I'm explaining something. When she's talking, I watch her and think about the adventure. Ever since we saw Joseph in the water and went to rescue him, Ellen's been great. She's been fantastic. The next time she looks my way, I grin at her. She looks surprised for a second, but then she grins back.

Late in the day, the radio crackles.