Summer at Forsaken Lake (18 page)

“Well, I’d say that you’re about the best friend anybody ever had,” said Charlie. “Can we see it?”

Mikey set the box on the table. Nicholas stood up and lifted out the camera, handling it as if it were a relic from King Tut’s tomb, turning it over and over in his hands. Charlie leaned in close to him, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

“This is unbelievable,” she said. “Thank you, Mom.”

“The film is still in it,” Nicholas whispered.

Mikey went to the door and looked out into the yard. “Is Will coming, too? He told me not to give the camera to anybody but him.”

Nicholas’s eyes met Charlie’s. What if, after all they’d been through, Mikey refused to give them the camera? They
had
to have it, no two ways about it, but he didn’t want to lie to the poor guy, either.

“Um … no, my dad’s not coming today,” Nicholas said, returning the camera to the box. “He’s very far away—in Africa—helping people. He’s a doctor. But I
was kind of hoping I could surprise him with this when he gets back.”

Mikey was unmoved. “Will said, ‘Mikey, take care of my camera. Don’t let anybody have it.’ A man with a beard came here looking for it, but I told him that it was Will’s and I can only give it to him.”

“A man with a beard? When?” Charlie asked.

“Right after Mikey brought the camera home,” said Mrs. Bishop. “Just a few days later, I think.”

“I wonder who that was,” Nicholas said.

Mrs. Bishop shook her head. “Never seen him before or since. Now, Mikey, this is very different. You can trust these two young people. This is your friend Will’s
son
. And Franny’s daughter. Will would
want
you to give them the camera.”

“But Will said—”

“Yes, I know what he said,” Mrs. Bishop interrupted. “But, sometimes, you can do the right thing without doing
exactly
what you were asked to do.”

“My dad
will
be here later in the summer,” Nicholas said. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you, and thank you for taking such good care of his camera.”

“Do you promise?” asked Mikey.

“I promise,” said Nicholas.

“I think you can trust him, Mikey,” said Mrs. Bishop.

Mikey handed the box to a relieved Nicholas, who shook his hand again and mouthed a silent thank-you to Mrs. Bishop.

Back outside, as Nicholas mounted his bike, he said, “Wow, this is just great, Mikey. My dad is going to be very excited. And when he gets back, we’ll come see you again.”

“Or you could come over,” Charlie said. “We could take you and your mom sailing. Do you like boats?”

Mikey smiled broadly. “Yes. Will used to take me sailing sometimes. With Franny.”

“Maybe,” said Charlie with a wink in Nicholas’s direction, “you three can go sailing again.”

They rode away from the cottage without speaking, but when they were out of hearing range, Charlie pulled her bike off to the side of the dirt road.

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas asked.

Charlie tilted her head toward the bright blue sky and screamed while Nicholas watched, fascinated.

“I don’t even know why I’m so happy,” Charlie said. “I mean, after all this time, the film is probably no good. But just finding it is so …”

“I know. It’s crazy. Boy, was your mom right, or what? And what about the other guy who came looking for it? Who was that?”

“A guy with a beard, he said. Can’t be too hard to find out who it was. Of course, for a while there, I didn’t think Mikey was going to give it to us, either. Thank God his mom believed who we are.”

“I wasn’t too worried,” said Nicholas with a sly smile. “I had the situation under control.” He reached into the
front pocket of his shorts and held out a black Super 8 film cartridge.

“What? H-how did you …? Wh-when?” Charlie stammered.

“I only had a few seconds. Mikey was looking out the door to see if my dad was out there, and Mrs. Bishop was filling the water pitcher. I just popped it open and slid the film out. Just in case.”

“Very sneaky, Mr. Mettleson. I’m totally impressed.”

“Well, I’m glad he gave us the camera, because I would have felt guilty about taking the film like that. But once I knew it was in there, there was no way I was leaving without it.”

“So now what? You up for a ride into Deming? I say we take the film to the drugstore right now. Mr. Leffingwell has been there forever. He’ll know where to send it to get it developed.”

“And then we hope,” said Nicholas.

* * *

Mr. Leffingwell whistled when he saw the Super 8 film cartridge. “Haven’t seen one of these for a while,” he said, and then disappeared into the back room for nearly ten minutes.

“Okay,” he said upon his return. “Good news and bad news. The good news is that they still process this type of film.
But
I have to warn you. This film was exposed a long
time ago and there’s no guarantee that anything is going to show up. The woman on the phone said it all depends on the camera, how it was stored, and so on, and said not to get your hopes up. So, fair warning. No refunds if it’s all blank. You okay with that?”

Charlie and Nicholas nodded.

“Now the bad news: it’s going to be a couple of weeks.
Maybe
ten days, the woman told me—if you’re lucky. I’ll write
Please Rush
on the envelope. Sometimes that helps.”

“Two weeks!” Charlie exclaimed on the way out of the store. “I’ll never make it. I’m going to explode.”

“Oh, it won’t be that bad,” said Nicholas. “We have a lot of work to do on
Imp
—that’s going to take the next few days at least. And then maybe we should get started with the movie. Your mom has a video camera we can use, right?”

“Don’t you need to finish the script first?”

“Yeah, but I just thought of a
great
idea—a way to use the scenes my dad shot, to combine them with what we’re going to do.”

“Are you going to share this idea with me?”

“I’ll explain it later—after I work out some more of the details. But first we need to get the Heron done.”

* * *

T
hree days later, with the fifth coat of varnish on
Imp
’s deck dry at last, it was time for the final step—attaching the hardware to the deck and mast. The day before, they had all piled into Betty for their weekly trip to the library, where Nick found a diagram and some pictures of fully rigged Herons. With those, Nicholas made a list of everything they needed from the marine hardware store in Ashtabula. The next morning was windy and rainy, so Nick and Pistol made the drive together while all the kids spent a few hours at Franny’s, baking and eating chocolate chip cookies.

The skies cleared a little after lunchtime, so, with Nick and Pistol back, and hardware in hand, they set
Imp
on the grass in the front yard and got right to work. While Nicholas and Charlie were busy with screwdrivers and wrenches, the twins watched impatiently from the porch, waiting for their big moment—stenciling the name on the Heron’s transom, the final step before the launch. With the help of the librarian, who knew them well enough to be able to tell them apart, Hayley and Hetty had created the stencil on a computer. They found the perfect font and printed out “Imp” on heavy paper, then the librarian cut out the letters with a razor blade.

“Is it time yet?” Hayley asked, her face pressed against the screen.

“This is the last piece of hardware,” said Charlie, holding up a small bronze cleat. “Get ready!”

“Yay!
Finally
,” Hetty said.

They ran out the door and handed the stencil to Nick, who taped it to the transom, to the right of the rudder. He took a few steps back to make sure it was perfectly straight, made a slight adjustment, and gave Hayley and Hetty the go-ahead. They practiced using the can of spray paint on a scrap of plywood, taking turns until Nick was sure they were ready for the real thing.

“Okay, girls, you’re ready,” he said. “Nice and easy, just like you were doing … Good … Not too thick now—you don’t want it to run. Perfect.” He peeled the
stencil away and stood back. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you … 
Imp
!”

Everyone clapped and cheered, and even Pistol barked his approval.

“Isn’t there usually some kind of ceremony when you launch a ship?” Charlie asked.

“Absolutely,” said Nick. “Every boat needs a proper christening. Usually they have somebody like the Queen, or the First Lady, break a bottle of champagne on the bow right before they launch a boat for the first time.”

Nicholas’s eyes grew wide as his hand glided over
Imp
’s glassy varnished deck. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said. “Even if it is tradition.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be breaking anything on little
Imp
here. I think that some ginger ale
—poured
over the bow—will suffice,” Nick said. “And since the twins named her, I think they should have the honor of doing the pouring. Now let’s get this thing in the water and see what she’ll do. Perfect breeze for a maiden voyage.”

They pushed the boat and trailer to the lake’s edge, where the five of them lifted
Imp
and gently set her in the sand, with her stern just touching the water. As Nicholas and Charlie fitted the mainsail into the boom and attached the jib hanks to the forestay, Hayley and Hetty ran into the house to find the ginger ale.

“We got it!” Hayley yelled from the porch.

“Everything else ready?” Nick asked. “Rudder and tiller? All the safety equipment? Anchor? Life jackets?”

Nicholas responded “Check” to each item on Nick’s list.

Hetty swung the bottle of ginger ale around and around. “Is it time?”

Nick whispered something in her ear, which she passed on to Hayley.

“Okay,
now
we’re ready. Take it away, girls,” said Nick.

Hetty held the ginger ale over the bow. “Ladies and gentlemen. By the power vested in me by, um …”

“By Sir Nick Mettleson, lord of the manor and captain of the good ship
Goblin
,” said Hayley.

“Oh, right. By, um, what she said,” added Hetty. “We hereby christen thee …”

“IMP!”
they shouted in unison. Hetty unscrewed the top of the bottle, spraying
Imp
, themselves, and the three spectators with warm ginger ale.

“Speech! Speech!” cried Nick. “Nicholas, I think it’s also customary for the builder to say a few words.”

Nicholas felt himself flush. He hated talking in front of the class at school, and all of a sudden, this felt like one of those times. “Ummm. Thanks, Uncle Nick. For letting me and Charlie … and for showing us how to sand and paint and everything … and for buying all the stuff, you know, the paint and the hardware. So, anyway, thanks again. Now, can we
please
go sailing?”

“Bravo!” shouted Nick. “Absolutely! Take her away, you two. You earned the first sail.”

With
Imp
floating alongside the dock, Charlie climbed
aboard and hoisted the sails. Nicholas joined her, attaching the rudder and tiller to the stern and then performing a quick inspection of all the lines and rigging.

“Ready, Captain?” asked Nick.

Nicholas tried to hide his excitement, but a smile broke through. “I think so. Give us a little push, will you?”

“Aye, aye,” said Nick, kneeling on the dock and pushing
Imp
and her crew out into the lake. “Have fun!”

Nicholas and Charlie sheeted in the sails and they were off, accelerating quickly away from the dock as Hayley and Hetty waved and shouted, “Bon voyage!”

Sailing the twelve-foot, two-hundred-pound
Imp
was nothing like navigating the twenty-eight-foot, six-thousand-pound
Goblin
. Nicholas and Charlie were well prepared, and were exceptionally fast learners. In practically no time at all, they were tacking back and forth smoothly up the lake, looking like a well-seasoned team.

“Well, what do you think?” Charlie asked when they returned to the dock. “How does it feel?”

“Great. I’m still getting used to how tippy she is. One little movement and she heels over ten degrees. You can jump up and down on
Goblin
and nothing happens.”

“Have you sent your dad a postcard about it yet?”

“You mean about
Imp
? No. How about you? Did you tell your mom?”