Baby-Sitters' Island Adventure

by Ann M. Martin

  “Okay, okay, okay.” Mrs. Newton gave in. Almost. “Are you sure you feel okay?”

  “I … FEEL … FINE!”

  “OKAY!”

  Jamie and his mother were laughing by then.

  I jumped into the conversation. “I promise I’ll make Jamie wear his windbreaker the whole day,” I told Mrs. Newton. “That way he won’t get cold. And he’ll have to wear shoes on the boat, so don’t worry about cold feet. And if anything seems wrong, we’ll just turn around and come back, okay?”

  Mrs. Newton smiled. “All right. I guess I’m just a little nervous. The last time Jamie had the sniffles, it turned into walking pneumonia.”

  Walking pneumonia? What was that? Anyway, Jamie looked fine to me. He wasn’t even sniffling.

  “Okay!” shouted Dawn from behind me. “Who’s ready to go sailing?”

  “I am!” cried Jamie, Jeff, Haley, and Becca.

  The kids followed us to our boats. Dawn and I strapped life preservers on the children. Then we strapped life preservers on ourselves. We always wear them. Anything could happen, and smack — you’d find yourself in the ocean. Even the best swimmer needs to be prepared.

  When the kids were ready, Dawn suddenly became very official.

  “Life preservers?” she asked.

  “Check,” I replied, without bothering to look, since we had just strapped everybody in and the counselors had helped us.

  “Food?”

  “Check.”

  “First-aid kits?”

  “Check.”

  “Let’s go!”

  Then Jamie, Haley, and Becca turned nervous on us. They ran back to their families for extra hugs. For just a moment, I thought the Newtons were going to convince Jamie to stay at home. But they didn’t. A few minutes later, Jamie, Becca, and I were settled in one boat, and Dawn, Jeff, and Haley were in another.

  A counselor was poised on the dock. “Get ready!” he shouted. “Get set, and … GO!” He lowered his arm like he was starting a car race.

  I almost giggled, but I knew I had to concentrate on the rematch.

  We were off. Behind us I could hear people calling things like, “Good-bye!” and, “Have fun!” and, “See you later!” and, “Wear your windbreaker!” (Guess who said that.)

  As we sailed along, we picked up speed. I love the feeling of wind. I think that’s why I like to ski, too. I was glad I had tied my hair back, though.

  I focused and concentrated. We could see Greenpoint Island, so we knew where we were going. I felt strong. I felt powerful.

  “Claudia?” said Becca after a little while.

  “What?” I replied.

  “This is so, so cool.” I could hardly hear Becca, but it wasn’t just because of the wind rushing by. She was speaking quietly, like she was in a church or something. And I knew why. We were out on the water, away from the edge of our country. If we just kept going and going we would hit … I wasn’t sure what. I used to think it was England, but Janine the Genius told me I was wrong. Anyway, there was nothing but air above us and water below us. And land, but that was way off in the distance. It was, as Becca had said, so, so cool.

  For awhile, my boat was ahead. Although I listened to Becca, and kept a careful eye on her and Jamie, I was doing my best sailing.

  “Hey, you guys!” yelled Jamie to Dawn’s boat, which wasn’t far behind. “We’re going to win this race. We’re going to beat you.”

  I wasn’t sure whether Dawn and Jeff and Haley could hear Jamie until Haley yelled back, “Are not!”

  “Are too!” said Becca.

  “Are not!”

  “Are too!”

  After awhile, Dawn’s boat caught up with ours. She grinned at me. I gritted my teeth. The are-not, are-tooing went on — until Dawn pulled ahead. Then Haley, to throw Becca off the track, yelled, “Are too!”

  And Becca found herself calling, “Are not!”

  When we realized what she’d said, we all began to laugh.

  And that was how we spent the next hour or so. First one boat was ahead, then another. The kids yelled things to each other and giggled constantly. Jamie claimed he was starving, so he ate a peanut butter sandwich. Then Becca said she was starving and ate an apple and a candy bar.

  “Hey, save some room and some food for the pic —” I started to say.

  But I was interrupted by a shout from Dawn. “Claudia, look!” she cried. She was pointing to the sky.

  I looked up. Huge thunderheads were forming. A chill ran through my body, even though the sun was still shining brightly. A storm was brewing, and Dawn and I both knew that out here — on this beautiful water — a storm could become a squall and sneak up on you quickly.

  And be really nasty.

  “Dawn!” I yelled, our race already forgotten. “We better decide what to do — and fast.”

  The clouds piled up until they looked like mountains in the sky, and a haze formed quickly. None of this took as long as you might think. In fact, it happened more quickly than Claud or I would have expected. Soon, I knew, the sky would be a mass of dark clouds.

  I steered my boat as close to Claudia’s as I could, which wasn’t easy, considering the wind that was blowing up.

  “Claud!” I shouted. I had to yell loudly in order for her to hear me.

  “Yeah?”

  “We better turn back.”

  “No!” Claudia shook her head. “I know we can’t see it anymore, but we’re closer to Greenpoint now than we are to the shore. If we keep going ahead, we might reach the island. If we turn around, we probably won’t … you know.” Claudia glanced at Jamie and Becca. She was trying not to scare them.

  Even though Claudia had grown up here and knew Greenpoint and this area much better than I did, I shouted back to her, “Are you sure we shouldn’t turn around?”

  “Positive!”

  So we kept moving ahead. Sailing was becoming a struggle. I told Jeff what we were up against because I knew he could handle it, and would then be a help. He tightened the straps on our life vests and made Haley sit down out of the way. Then he secured anything that might blow away.

  Claudia didn’t have such help. She was on her own in her boat, holding the sail, trying to steer, checking life vests, doing everything herself.

  As the wind blew even harder and the first raindrops began to fall, I noticed that Claudia’s boat was ahead of mine.

  “Hurray!” yelled Jamie, obviously unaware of trouble.

  But I yelled, “Claud, let the sail out — we have to stay together! We can’t let ourselves get separated.”

  “I’m trying to stay with you,” she called back, and I could barely hear her. “But the wind is awfully strong.”

  So were the waves. The water was growing choppier by the second. Our boat was tossed fiercely by the ocean. Sometimes a wave would slap right over our boat. Other times we were bounced in the air.

  “It’s just like a water ride at the amusement park!” said Haley gleefully as Jeff rushed around, covering things with sheets of plastic. I was extremely glad he was there.

  The sky, by that time, had grown so dark that it looked almost like night. I could barely see Claud’s boat.

  “Claudia?” I shouted.

  “Don’t worry. I’m here!”

  Okay. She was over to our right.

  And then, without warning, that black, black sky just opened up. It was as if it were so full of rain that it couldn’t hold it in any longer. And the only way to lighten up was to dump all the water on us.

  Which it did.

  The rain came down in sheets. Now Jeff tried to cover himself and Haley and me with the plastic, but it didn’t do any good. The wind blew it off of us, and the plastic was whisked away into the darkness.

  “Dawn? Dawn?” Claudia was calling to me.

  “I’m here. I’m still to your left!” I yelled.

  If only we could see each other, I thought. And then I could see Claud — but just her face. It was lit up against the storm.

&n
bsp; “Your flashlight!” she called. “You’ve got a flashlight under the seat next to the first-aid kit.”

  Jeff found it and turned it on. It didn’t light our way (it wasn’t strong enough), but at least Claud and I could keep track of each other.

  It was at this point, with the choppy water, the sheets of rain, and the gusty wind, that Haley said to me, “Dawn? I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I’m not having fun anymore.”

  “Well, we’re in a little trouble,” I told Haley. “This is a bad storm. We’re trying to reach Greenpoint Island but I’m not sure we’re on course. The best thing to do is just hold on tight. And if I give you any instructions, follow them. No questions asked, okay?”

  “Okay,” replied Haley shakily.

  In Claud’s boat, Becca grew nervous faster than Haley did, and Jamie began to cry. He cried hard at first, but soon he was just sniffling. Everybody held together as well as they could.

  And then it happened.

  A huge wave washed over our boat. Haley was thrown off her seat by the force of it. Remembering my instructions to “hold on tight,” she grabbed for the nearest object — which happened to be the rudder. The rudder snapped and Haley went flying again. This time I made a grab for her. I caught her life vest.

  Haley was safe.

  But from the other end of the boat Jeff was screaming, “Dawn! The boat’s full of water!”

  “Well, that was a big wave,” I pointed out.

  “No, it’s not just that. There’s water coming in from somewhere else!” Jeff was frantically trying to rescue our supplies while I settled Haley on a seat again. I noticed that she was in water halfway up to her knees. Whoa. This was serious.

  “Hey! You guys!” yelled Claudia. “Stay with us! You keep drifting away!”

  “Our rudder’s broken!” I shouted. “And our boat’s filling up with water.”

  It was at that point, as I noticed Claudia’s flashlight bobbing away, that Jeff, trying not to sound frightened, crossed the boat and tried to whisper to me (which was not easy), “We’re sinking.”

  “We’re what?” I’d heard him, but I didn’t want to believe him.

  “We’re sinking,” he repeated quietly.

  I looked at Haley. The water was creeping closer to her knees.

  “I guess we’re going to have to bail out,” I told him. “We’ll try to get Claud to steer as close to us as she can —”

  “Then I’ll toss our supplies to her,” Jeff interrupted.

  “Oh, good thinking,” I said, “and then we’ll have to … just hold onto her boat and float, I guess. We can’t get into the boat. We’ll be too heavy. I’ll help you and Haley, since I passed the life-saving test.”

  “Okay.” No arguments from Jeff.

  “Claud!” I yelled again.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to have to bail out and swim to your boat. There’s nothing else to do. We’re sinking.”

  “Okay,” replied Claud tightly. I could tell she was nervous. Six people and one small sailboat was not a good idea. There would be too much weight. But what choice did we have?

  “Can you steer over here?” I yelled. My teeth were chattering. The ocean and the rain were cold.

  “I’ll try.”

  The flashlight on Claud’s boat bobbed closer to ours. Soon I could actually make out Claudia, Jamie, and Becca. They looked terrified — and as cold as I felt.

  “First,” I yelled to Claud, “Jeff’s going to toss our supplies to you. We better hang onto everything we can.”

  “Okay!” Claud replied, and she and Becca caught the things as Jeff threw them. They tried to stow them under the seats or in plastic.

  “All right, now we’re going to swim to your boat,” I said, trying to stay calm. At that point, it didn’t look difficult. Claudia was right next to us. I thought we could reach her without much swimming — but immediately a huge wave separated us.

  “Okay, you first, Haley,” I said, climbing overboard. “I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t want to go in the water!” she cried.

  “I’m sorry, but you have to. I’ll swim you to Claudia and she and Becca will help you hang onto their boat. There’s no room for us in the boat. Remember, you’ve got your life vest on, so you can’t sink.”

  Haley looked at our boat. She saw that water was now rapidly filling it.

  “Okay, here goes,” she said bravely. She held her nose (which was unnecessary because of the life vest) and jumped overboard. Just in time I found her hand and swam with her. I didn’t want us separated.

  The distance to Claudia’s boat, thankfully, wasn’t too far, and Haley dogpaddled to it fairly quickly, with just a little help from me. Claudia and Becca pulled her to the side, and Becca grabbed her wrists.

  Then, wordlessly, I turned around and headed back for Jeff. He was poised to jump in — and leave our boat behind.

  “Go ahead!” I yelled to Jeff.

  Splash! I caught Jeff as he jumped in. Then, hand-in-hand, we swam to Claudia’s boat. He and I clung to the sides without help. We were on our own.

  “Claud?” I shouted. “Are we still on course?”

  “I have no idea,” she replied. “It’s been so windy. But — Hey, wait! I see land ahead! Honest! Maybe it’s Greenpoint!”

  “Hurray!” cheered Jamie, through chattering teeth.

  In just a few minutes, I could feel sand under my feet. We really had reached land. We walked the boat ashore and unloaded the supplies. The rain was letting up. The sky was brightening.

  “Come on, you guys, we have to find shelter and dry off,” said Claud, taking charge.

  I was glad to let her do so. I didn’t feel up to it.

  So Jeff, Haley, and Becca began unloading our things from the boat. While they were busy, Claudia turned to me. “You know what?” she said.

  “What?” I replied.

  “This isn’t Greenpoint Island. I don’t know where we are.”

  I felt like crying.

  As you can see, I’ve started keeping a journal. Mallory made me do it. She’s been keeping journals for ages, and has several notebooks full of her thoughts and feelings. I have to admit that I like keeping a journal. I don’t write in it every night — just whenever I feel like it. But I wrote in it a lot while Becca was gone. That turned out to be pretty handy for Dawn, who needed things like journal entries in order to put together the whole story of her adventure.

  Anyway, Squirt and I, as I mentioned, spent a very nice day together. He’s at a really fun age — but a tiring one, too. He not only walks, but he runs (sort of) and he’s still a mean crawler. By the time he went down for his afternoon nap on Saturday, I was exhausted. (How does my mother do it, all day, every day?) I was hoping to make myself a nice glass of iced tea, put my feet up, and lose myself in Stormy, Misty’s Foal, which I have read only about a zillion times. But I had gotten two pages further into the book when — BAM!

  Thunder.

  Squirt was awake instantly. That was the end of his nap and my nice rest period.

  Squirt hates thunder. He kept putting his hands over his ears and crying big alligator tears.

  “Shh, shh,” I said softly. “It’ll be over soon. And then Becca will come back and we’ll have hot dogs for dinner. How’s that?”

  Well, things did not go exactly as I’d planned. In fact, they went as far as possible in the other direction.

  At five o’clock (the thunderstorm over), I said brightly to Squirt, “Becca will be home any minute now!”

  At five-thirty, I said to him, “I wonder where your sister is. I’m getting hungry for hot dogs and I bet you are, too.”

  At six, I said, sounding out-and-out worried, “Where on earth is Becca? She should have been home by now. If she’s playing at Haley’s and didn’t tell me, she’s in for it.”

  I called the Braddocks.

  “Hi, Mr. Braddock,” I began. And just as I said, “Is Becca at your house playing with Haley?” he said,
“Is Haley at your house playing with Becca?”

  Then we both said, “No,” at the same time.

  “I don’t think they’re back yet,” said Mr. Braddock, and I knew he meant Claudia, Dawn, and their sailing crews.

  “But they should be back by now!” I cried.

  I wanted to believe that they really were back, so I called Mary Anne next. “Dawn’s back, isn’t she?” I asked her nervously.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” replied Mary Anne haughtily.

  “Come on,” I said. “This is important. Is she back?”

  “No,” said Mary Anne.

  I called the Kishis and the Newtons next, knowing full well that they would say that Claudia and Jamie were not back, either.

  I was right.

  At long last I did what I’d been dreading. I called the community center. A very nice woman answered the phone. When I told her who I was and why I was calling, her tone became worried. “Mr. Braddock and several other parents have called during the last half hour,” she told me. “We haven’t seen the boats. And they should have been back by now. I think it’s time to take some action.”

  “Um,” I began, fear welling up inside of me, “do you think they got caught in that storm we had here awhile ago?”

  “That’s hard to say,” the woman replied. “It depends on where it came from. If they did get caught in it, let’s just hope they were already on Greenpoint.”

  “What kind of action are you going to take?” I asked.

  “We’ll call the Coast Guard and send out some search boats — I guess. It’s going to be dark soon, and it’s starting to rain again. Those aren’t ideal searching conditions. Do you want to come to the center and help us?”

  I did, but I had to say, “I’m really sorry, but I can’t. My parents are away for the weekend. I have to stay here and take care of my baby brother.”

  “Okay,” replied the woman. “Give me your phone number and we’ll keep you posted.”

  “Thanks,” I said. As I hung up the phone, it dawned on me: This was an emergency. My parents had left a long list of emergency numbers for the weekend. Most of them didn’t apply — like the numbers for our pediatrician and the ambulance and the fire department. But I figured I should call Dr. Johanssen. The Johanssens are our neighbors and Becca is best friends with their daughter, Charlotte. Maybe they would watch Squirt for me so I could go to the center and help out.