Emily Windsnap and the Ship of Lost Souls

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Emily Windsnap and the Ship of Lost Souls Page 2

by Liz Kessler


  A few minutes later, a shadow came across the beach. As the shadow got closer, I could see it was a tall man, quite gangly, with wavy hair that flopped around all over his head as he hurried toward us. His shirt was half hanging out of his pants, and his face was covered in dark stubble.

  “Nice to see he’s made an effort for us,” Mandy mumbled.

  The man headed over to Miss Platt. “I’m so sorry to keep you, Mrs. . . . er . . .”

  “Miss Platt,” Miss Platt said, holding out an arm to shake his hand. “No harm done. You’re here now.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” the man said. He turned to go back up the beach and indicated for us to follow. “Well, I’m Lyle. My wife is, er . . . Look, sorry we kept you. Anyway, come on, then. I’ll take you to your cabin.”

  Putting it politely, the man seemed completely clueless. He didn’t tell us anything about the week ahead or ask us if we’d had a good journey, or, well, anything. He didn’t talk. He just walked, and we followed, shuffling along the sand with our bags, and up the slope at the top that took us onto a path through a small woods. For a few minutes among the trees, it was virtually pitch-black.

  “Careful in here; it’s very dark,” Miss Platt called back, pointing out the obvious. “Keep an eye on the person in front of you and stay close together.”

  Aaron grabbed my hand.

  “Any excuse,” I joked. Not that I minded.

  The path through the woods led to a dirt trail with a couple of houses. One on the left of the trail, and one farther up on the right. “This is the island’s main road,” Lyle said. “And that’s your cabin,” he added, pointing to the house to our left. When we got to the door, he rummaged in a pocket for a key and let us in.

  “You’ve eaten?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” Miss Platt replied. “We had dinner on the boat.”

  “Good.” After fumbling around on the wall for a light switch, Lyle gestured down the corridor. “Bathrooms are down there. Kitchen is all the way to the end and around the corner. Living room is the room after that,” he said hurriedly. “Bedrooms are all upstairs. Boys in the rooms on the left, girls on the right. The teacher’s room is at the end. Make yourselves at home. Any questions?”

  We stared at him. Was that it? That was our “wonderful welcome”?

  Miss Platt shook herself. “Er . . . What time would you like to meet us in the morning?”

  “Meet you?” Lyle replied. He was already halfway out of the door.

  “Yes, for our . . . Hold on a sec”— Miss Platt rummaged in her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper —“Island Intros and Official Orientation,” she said, passing the paper to Lyle.

  For a split second, his face softened into a slight smile. “Lowenna and her funny titles. Always with the alliteration,” he said, almost to himself. He passed the sheet of paper back to Miss Platt.

  “Look, I’m sorry you haven’t had quite the welcome you were expecting,” he said. “Things have been a bit . . . Well, look, we’ll sort it all out in the morning, OK? I’ll come over at nine and we’ll get together in the living room and take it from there. Is that all right?”

  “Well, I suppose so,” Miss Platt replied tightly.

  “It’ll have to be, won’t it?” Mandy whispered in my ear.

  “All right, then. Have a good night,” Lyle said, and, with that, he left us standing in the corridor and closed the door behind him.

  Miss Platt took a second to get herself together before regaining her normal teacherly tone. “All right, children, let’s get settled. Take your things up to the bedrooms and we’ll meet in the living room for hot chocolate in ten minutes. How does that sound?”

  It sounded great. Only trouble was, it didn’t work out to be quite so good. For one thing, the beds were all unmade and we had to spend fifteen minutes searching all the rooms and cupboards for sheets and blankets.

  Half an hour later, when we’d made the beds, we were more than ready for a cup of cocoa with warm milk. But there was no cocoa. Or milk.

  Miss Platt sighed as she pulled a loose strand of hair back into her ponytail. “I think we should call it a night,” she said. “I’m sure everything will feel much better after a good night’s sleep. Set your alarms, children. At eight thirty, I want to see you all down here for breakfast.”

  Breakfast? With no milk?

  “I’m sure they’ll have figured something out for us by then,” she added quickly.

  We headed for our rooms and said good night.

  “Sweet dreams,” Aaron whispered as we parted company in the corridor. I wanted to give him a kiss, but I made do with a quick smile and a “’Night, sweet dreams,” back at him.

  Five minutes later, I was in bed and fast asleep. It had been a long day.

  Lyle seemed to have gotten his act together a bit the next morning. He was there at nine, like he’d said. He’d even managed to find some milk and bread for us. No butter, but we had jam and peanut butter and even half a box of Frosted Flakes to share. He talked while we finished off our breakfast.

  “I hope you all had a good night’s sleep,” he began. “First of all, may I apologize again for the rather disorganized welcome last night? It’s not how we normally like to welcome our visitors. The thing is, well, um . . .” He paused and looked away from us. Then he shook his head. “You see, my wife organizes these trips and, unfortunately, she’s, er . . . she’s had to go away.”

  “Lowenna’s not here?” Miss Platt broke in.

  “Um, no. She says she’s really sorry and —”

  “But she organized the whole thing.”

  Lyle frowned. “Yes. I know.”

  “She said that she would personally supervise us, show us around, give us games to play, bring the two classes together.” Miss Platt started rummaging in her bag again.

  “Look, there’s no need for that.” Lyle waved her paperwork away as if it were a wasp. “I know this isn’t quite what you expected, but it will have to do. I’m sorry. It was . . . it was unavoidable.” His eyes looked dark as he spoke, and his voice had turned a shade sharper. What was going on here? What had happened to Lowenna?

  Miss Platt put the papers back in her bag and sat up straighter. “All right, then,” she said tightly. “What will my children be doing today? Lowenna said there would be a guided tour of the island this morning, followed by a treasure hunt this afternoon.”

  “Yes, that’s fine. I’ll sort it all out,” Lyle said.

  “With prizes,” Miss Platt added firmly.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll find some prizes.”

  Miss Platt pulled her ponytail a little tighter. “All right,” she conceded. “That will be fine.”

  I finished a mouthful of toast and put my hand up.

  “Yes, Emily?”

  “Do we know when Shiprock will get here?” I asked. Mrs. Sharktail wouldn’t let them miss their Saturday classes, so they were coming today. Shona had said that they’d be getting marine transportation for most of the way and swimming the last part. I wanted to go and meet them when they arrived.

  “I believe they’ll be here late afternoon or early evening,” Lyle replied. “After I left you last night, I went home and dug out most of the paperwork relating to your week. Hopefully, the rest of it will be as smooth as a freshly washed pebble.” He tried to smile. The edges of his mouth went up a tiny smidgen. He looked quite nice when he smiled. Nice, but not happy. The smile definitely didn’t get anywhere near his eyes.

  “Will you be able to give us our Island Intros and Official Orientation as promised?” Miss Platt asked him.

  Lyle nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “All right, then. Children, go and get ready and meet me back here in fifteen minutes. Let’s get this field trip started, OK?”

  As I brushed my teeth, dragged a comb through my hair, grabbed my shoes and coat, and hurried back downstairs, I couldn’t help wondering what was in store for us here.

  If the rest of the island was as myst
erious and odd as Lyle, one thing was for sure: there was no way this was going to be your usual boring-as-butterless-bread geography field trip.

  “All right eighth-graders, settle down and face this way, please.” We gathered around to listen to Miss Platt.

  “Good. Now, can you all get into pairs and take a clipboard and a pencil, one per pair. I’ll hand these out. Lyle is passing around some papers. You’ll need one of these per pair as well.”

  I glanced at Mandy.

  “It’s fine. You go with Aaron,” she said. “I’ll pair up with Julie.”

  Aaron smiled as he took a clipboard and came over to me.

  Miss Platt was peering into her bag. “I’ve brought these, too,” she said as she pulled out some bright-red rolled-up bags. “Obviously, we are on an island, and I’m sure you’ll be tempted to go swimming at some point. If you want to, please put your papers and any valuables into these dry bags to keep them from getting damp and ruined.”

  I took a dry bag from Miss Platt and shoved it in my jacket pocket.

  “Now that you’ve got everything you need,” she went on, “let’s listen to Lyle for further instructions.”

  Miss Platt stepped back as Lyle cleared his throat. “Right. Um. OK. Well, as I’ve said, it’s normally my wife who does this sort of thing, so bear with me.” He held up one of the papers. “Each pair should have one of these. You’ll see there’s a list of questions on the front.”

  We looked down at the sheet of paper. At the top it said, “Island Intro — Treasure Hunt!” Below the heading there were numbered questions with space between each one for our answers.

  “If you turn your papers over, you’ll see a map of the island.”

  I flipped our sheet over and studied the map. There was a rough outline of an island, with straggly lines to mark the paths, groups of contours wiggling around in bendy lines to indicate the hills, some pictures of trees and houses, and the bays with their names in swirly writing.

  “Your map indicates the main layout of the island,” Lyle explained. “You’ll see north is at the top of the island, south at the bottom. There are lines showing all the main paths. It is very important that you stick to these. If it’s not on the map, it’s possibly dangerous and unstable, so avoid any paths that aren’t clear and labeled. The rest should be self-explanatory.”

  I studied the map a bit more. On the south side of the island, it showed the bay where we’d arrived. This was labeled “Harbour Bay.” The map showed a line running from the beach, through some trees, and out to a thicker line with the houses on it. That was the path we’d followed last night. “Sandy Bay,” “Deep Blue Bay,” and “Pebble Bay” were the only other labels.

  I put my hand up.

  Miss Platt noticed me. “Yes, Emily?”

  “How come it’s called Fivebays Island but there are only four bays?”

  Miss Platt turned to Lyle. Lyle stared at her without replying. I guess he felt silly for being in charge of an island that had obviously been given the wrong name. “There are five bays,” he said eventually. “But only four of them are used. Access to the fifth bay is extremely dangerous and not to be attempted. Any other questions?”

  No one asked anything else.

  “Good. Well. This is a lovely idea.” Miss Platt turned to Lyle. “A great way of educating the children about the island as well as getting them to use their initiative. If there are no further questions, let’s get going.”

  Lyle stopped us. “Oh, one last thing. Please bear in mind that there’s a big tidal range here. It’s low tide in a couple of hours, when the beaches will be at their biggest and all the paths will be accessible. Later on today, you’ll need to be careful around the coast as the tide comes in quite high and most of the bays virtually disappear — apart from Sandy Bay. There’s always at least a bit of beach there.”

  Miss Platt looked at Lyle to see if he’d finished. He gave her a quick nod. “Good,” she said with a smile. She looked at her watch. “Shall we say, meet back here in two hours?”

  “What do the winners get?” Adrian, one of the boys, asked. “You said there were prizes.”

  Miss Platt turned to Lyle.

  “I . . . er . . .” he said. “I forgot about that. I’m sorry.”

  Miss Platt tutted and frowned. “OK, how about this, then? First pair back — with all the right answers — is the first to be excused from cleanup duties.”

  “We have to clean up?” Adrian whined.

  Miss Platt looked from side to side and behind her. “Do you see any servants around here?” she asked, with that special brand of sarcasm that only teachers seem to have.

  “And, um, cook, too,” Lyle added.

  “What?” Adrian whined. I have to say, I think most of the class was with him on this one.

  Miss Platt tapped her watch. “You’d better get going, then,” she said. “If you don’t like cooking or cleaning, that is.”

  The rest of the class hurried off, looking down at their papers. They were heading in the direction of the woods — the way we’d come last night.

  I read the first question out loud as we followed the others. “‘Go to Harbour Bay and see what’s afloat. What’s the color of the boat?’”

  “That little rowboat by the shed! You and I walked straight past it when we went down to the water’s edge,” Aaron said. “It was blue. I’m sure. At least, I think I am.”

  I laughed. “I’d have said the same. I’m almost positive it’s blue.”

  “It was pretty dark,” Aaron went on. “What do you think? You want to follow all the others down there, or take a chance on blue and get ahead of the game?”

  I knew Aaron had a competitive side. I’d seen it when we raced each other in the sea or played chess. And when it was me and him together against everyone else, I wanted to win as much as he did. I liked the idea of being the best team. “Let’s go with blue and get ahead,” I agreed.

  As the rest of the class disappeared into the woods, Aaron looked over my shoulder and read out question number two. “‘Sandy Bay is soft and fair, but how many stairs will take you there?’”

  I studied the map. “Look, there’s Sandy Bay.” I pointed at the large bay on the east of the island. “We need to take the path after the woods and it’ll lead us to the steps, from the look of it.”

  Aaron checked behind us to make sure we were the only ones heading straight for the second question, then took my hand. “Come on,” he said, half walking, half running. “Let’s go.”

  “One hundred sixty-one, one hundred sixty-two.” I looked up and saw that Aaron was way ahead of me.

  “Two hundred and seven!” he yelled as he reached the bottom. He scribbled the answer on the sheet.

  I stopped where I was. “Does that mean I don’t have to bother with the last fifty steps?” I called back.

  Aaron waved me down. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. It’s stunning!”

  “But that’s even more steps to go back up again!”

  “Believe me, it’s worth it. Come on.”

  My knees wobbling, I made it to the bottom and looked around. Stretching as far as I could see was a wide pale-yellow sandy beach. In front of us, a thin white line marked the point where the sea lapped against the shore.

  Aaron sat on the sand and put the clipboard down. I picked it up and glanced at the next question: Just how deep is our deepest bay? And please log height and time of day.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he pulled his sandals off.

  “Going for a swim. Come on!”

  “What about the treasure hunt? Don’t you want to win?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “But look at it.” He nodded at the sea. Clear turquoise water glinted and winked with a thousand tiny sparkles as the morning sun beamed across it. Farther out, the turquoise gave way to a deeper blue. I could almost hear the waves whispering my name.

  “There’s still no sign of anyone else yet,” Aaron went on. “Let’s at least have a
quick dip.”

  I sat next to him and pulled my sandals off too. “OK. Just a quick one, though,” I agreed. We rolled up our pant legs and stood up. I grabbed the treasure-hunt sheet and pulled it off the clipboard.

  “What are you taking that for?” Aaron asked.

  “Just to make sure nothing happens to it while we’re gone.”

  “Good idea. We don’t want one of the other teams swiping it and setting us back.”

  I laughed. “I actually meant it might blow away, but, that’s a good point, too.”

  I folded the sheet, unhooked the pencil, zipped them both into the dry bag we’d been given, and shoved it in my pocket.

  “Ready?” Aaron grinned.

  “Yep, let’s go.”

  We ran together down to the water’s edge. The sand was soft and warm. As we stood ankle-deep in the cool water and Aaron smiled at me, I was pretty sure I’d never felt so happy in my life.

  A whole week of this stretched ahead. I was pretty sure I was the luckiest half girl, half mermaid in the whole wide world.

  Aaron was looking out to sea. “Em, shall we . . . ?”

  I knew what he was asking. Aaron was just like me. To a semi-mer, standing ankle-deep in water is a bit like a chocoholic looking at a shop full of Hershey’s bars.

  I followed his gaze. The sea was sparkling as if it were covered in jewelry. It seemed to be speaking to us, beckoning us. I couldn’t resist. My ankles were already beginning to tingle, and I could feel my toes starting to web together.

  “Let’s,” I said. “It’s a beautiful morning. We could have a quick swim, and I’m sure we’ll be dry by the time we get to the next question.”

  “And we’ll probably still be ahead of the game.” Aaron had already let go of my hand and was wading into the water. He was up to his knees and his pants were wet when he turned around and smiled. “Here goes!” Then he dived right under the water and disappeared.

  I had a quick look behind us. There was still no one on the beach. I took a few more steps, then dived in.

  The water was smooth and silky and took all my thoughts away as it enveloped me, filling me with warmth. A moment later, I felt my body start to change. My legs tingled and tightened and stretched out. A moment later, they had disappeared altogether.

 

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