The Family Fletcher Takes Rock Island

by Dana Alison Levy

  So not only was Eli not working toward getting back into the lighthouse, he was standing on the rocky cove shore, staring with extreme mistrust at the skinny boat in front of him.

  “Now, it’s as calm as a lake today, and we’re going to stay close to shore, okay, buddy? And you’re wearing your PFD, and it’s a good one. So…”

  Dad let his voice trail off. Eli knew the facts. He understood that Calm Seas + Shoreline + Personal Flotation Device = Perfectly Safe. The equation worked. The only problem was that he didn’t really believe it.

  Still, Eli nodded. Bravely, he hoped. “Sure. I got it,” he said, trying to sound confident. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “I thought we’d take a paddle together first, just the two of us,” Dad said. “They’re climbing over the far rocks with Papa.”

  Eli closed his eyes for a second. He would rather be climbing the rocks, maybe finding sea urchins or even seeing seals. But no. His fate was to wobble in a tiny boat.

  With Dad’s help he pushed the kayak into the water and positioned himself in the tiny seat.

  “Ready for the paddle?” Dad asked.

  “Ready,” Eli said, taking the double paddle in both hands, dipping one end into the water and pushing off.

  The boat swung wildly, and Eli couldn’t help giving a tiny shriek. “I’m fine! I’m fine. Just…surprised myself,” he said, through clenched teeth.

  Dad quickly jumped into his own kayak and pushed off, paddling cleanly and excellently to catch up with Eli, who was drifting with the current.

  “You look great, buddy! Like a real pro!” Dad called.

  Eli smiled. Or at least he tried to smile, though it felt more like a grimace.

  “Let’s head along the shore, just practicing, okay?” Dad said, dipping one end of his paddle, then the other, into the water.

  Eli followed suit, barely daring to look up from the water as he pushed the paddle up and down, up and down. Slowly, his breathing calmed. Dad was right. The water was totally flat, and if Eli was really careful the boat barely wobbled. He even glanced up from time to time, taking in the line of the horizon, the sky a perfect flat blue against the dark green of the water. In the distance a motorboat buzzed and hummed, but nearby all he heard was the slap of the water against the kayak and the occasional cry of the seagulls.

  “Look how far we’ve come,” Dad said, turning in his boat and gesturing back at the beach.

  Eli turned to look, but the boat swung, so he quickly faced forward again. It was going pretty well, he had to admit. He could almost understand why his brothers liked this so much. It was cool, sliding through the water, seeing the familiar Rock Island landscape from sea instead of land. Far out, a cormorant was perched on a lobster buoy, its wings outstretched in the breeze. Eli smiled at Dad.

  “That’s what I like to see!” Dad said, smiling back. “Check out how close we are to the far rocks. Keep an eye out—we might see your brothers. Won’t they be surprised to see us all the way over here!”

  Eli and Dad paddled along, looking for the family, their paddles dipping into the water almost in tandem.

  “Did you know that Captain Jim said I might be able to name the orphaned seal pup at the marine lab? Just me, not the others.”

  Dad nodded. “He told me. He even said he’d let us do some field research on Tuckernocket if we go out there. Pretty cool. Now, what are you thinking about for names?”

  “Well, I’ve got a couple of options. I thought about Anna, because she named one of the farm’s baby goats after me, so I thought she’d be psyched to have a seal named after her. But then I thought about Cassiopeia, since I’ve always loved that constellation, and because she could be Cassie for short. Or—”

  Before Eli could offer the next name, there was a tremendous lurch and the kayak swung wildly from side to side.

  “DADDY!” he screamed, trying to keep from tipping over.

  “It’s okay! Just pull your paddle up! Hang in there!” Dad called, trying to paddle through the suddenly wild and churning water.

  “I’m going to tip! What’s happening?” Eli screamed. The boat was rocking as the huge waves buffeted it, slapping hard against its side and nearly tipping it over.

  “Hang on! It’s that…” Dad trailed off into a stream of swears that surprised Eli, even in the midst of his fear. Dad never swore.

  “—speedboat! It was going way too close to shore! We just got hit by its wake. See, it’s already almost gone,” Dad said, trying to sound calm, and failing. His sunglasses had fallen off and his face was red and mad.

  “Whoever was driving that thing was going WAY too fast, and WAY too close to shore. That should have never happened. Are you okay?” Dad asked.

  Eli shook his head speechlessly. His hands clutched the paddle and he had to blink back tears.

  “That was scary, buddy. I know. But hey! You’re okay, right? You didn’t even tip. And if you had, your life jacket would have kept you safe, right?” Dad’s voice was calmer now, but Eli didn’t care.

  All the good thoughts about kayaking had fled. He swallowed hard, then said, “Can we go back now? Please?”

  Dad sighed, and with a last nasty look at the receding speedboat, started to lead Eli back along the shore to the beach.

  When they got there, the rest of the Fletchers were waiting. Even from a distance Eli could hear a scary sort of yowling.

  “You’re back! I was going to see if Zeus likes the ocean more than the bathtub!” Frog shouted, jumping up and down on the sand.

  Eli jumped out of the kayak, pulled it far enough up on the beach that it wouldn’t float away, and stalked off, not bothering to answer his brother.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to see Zeusy swim?” Frog called after him.

  But Eli didn’t care. He went up to his towel and flung himself down. Behind him Dad was explaining.

  “He did great, really. He was like a pro. But then some”—Dad paused, probably to swallow the terrible swearwords he’d said before—“moron in a speedboat swung way too close and we got hit by the wake. It was a little scary.”

  Eli closed his eyes, enjoying the solid ground underneath him.

  —

  Later, after Frog learned that Zeus emphatically did NOT like swimming in the ocean any better than the bathtub, and Zeus had nearly taken off Jax’s leg attempting to get away from the water, Frog and Papa brought Zeus back to the house. The rest of the family sprawled out, consuming a massive picnic along the rocky shore. Eli had joined them to eat, though he didn’t share in his brothers’ conversation about who would go out in the kayaks next, or how fun it would be to race to the far rocks. He just moodily munched his sandwich, barely bothering to reach across Jax’s barrier of towels and sand buckets for the potato chips.

  He was trying to think of an excuse to go home when the speedboat roared back into the cove, this time coming closer and closer to shore before cutting its engine and stopping. In the sudden silence the boys could clearly hear the boat’s radio blasting about Zaztax stock going through the roof. A man stood at the stern and threw an anchor overboard. Then he jumped over the side of the boat into the shallow water and waded ashore, holding a giant wooden box above his head to keep it dry.

  “Ahoy there!” he called as he waded in. “Looks like a lovely day for a picnic.”

  Dad stood. Eli straightened up to see what would happen next. Dad was usually really polite, and very slow to anger. Papa was the one who got mad. But Dad looked seriously cheesed.

  “You!” Dad said, and his tone added moron. “Do you realize how fast you were going before? Our kayaks were nearly knocked over by your wake, and my son was quite frightened. While there are no speed limits that I know of in the cove, courtesy, as well as basic common sense, should tell you not to speed through here like a maniac!”

  The man brought his hands to his face. Eli thought he looked like he was miming the word remorse in charades.

  “Oh no! I’m terribly sorry. I was so fo
cused on scouting for a new painting spot that I wasn’t paying attention. But that’s no excuse, of course. Really. I apologize. To all of you.” The man looked around at the boys, as though wondering which one he had traumatized. His eyes lingered a little on Jax, then flicked away.

  Eli looked down.

  Dad nodded a little, his face smoothing out a bit. “Apology accepted. But please be careful in the future. Rock Island isn’t really a place for speed.”

  The man nodded enthusiastically. “So true! It’s a place to slow down and enjoy the beauty of it! I couldn’t agree more. Again, I’m just so sorry. I wish I could make it up to you, but I can promise I’ll never do it again. Sincerely.” He put one hand over his heart.

  Eli thought, again, of a game of charades.

  He continued. “May I introduce myself? I’m Chase Kark.” He held out his hand to Dad.

  Chase Kark was wearing a faded pinkish-red button-down shirt, a pair of bright green shorts, and a visor. His blond hair was barely ruffled, despite the speedboat ride.

  Dad shook his hand, smiling slightly, but he still looked a little put out. “Tom Anderson. This is Sam, Jax, and Eli,” he said, pointing to each of them in turn. “My youngest son and my husband, Jason Fletcher, will be back shortly.”

  “The Fletchers!” Chase Kark said, smiling at all of them with big, shiny white teeth. “I’ve heard your names before. You live next to the lighthouse!”

  “And you’re the artist who got hurt there! And now you want to buy it!” Eli blurted out. He had just remembered where he had heard Kark’s name before.

  Kark’s smile dimmed, but just a bit. “That was me, sadly,” he said, not sounding terribly sad. “But I’m fine, and hey—you know what they say: you have to suffer for art. Hopefully the painting came out well.” He smiled again. “The lighthouse is a magnificent piece of the island’s heritage. It would be an honor to own it. But safety must come first!”

  “But will it be private? I mean, will people still be able to go in?” Sam asked.

  Kark’s smile, if possible, grew larger. “I would never want to deprive people of the opportunity to access such a lovely spot,” he said, his hand over his heart again.

  “But does that mean—” Sam started, but then the familiar sound of the ice cream truck drifted over from the parking lot.

  “ICE CREAM TRUUUUU­UUUUU­UUUUCK!” Frog screamed, appearing by the edge of the parking lot as well. He and Papa were back, without the yowling cat. “HEY, GUYS, LOOK! IT FOLLOWED US HERE!”

  Chase Kark reached into his pocket. “It’s the least I can do,” he said, handing Sam a bill. “Ice cream’s on me. If that’s okay, of course,” he added, glancing at Dad.

  Dad looked annoyed, but nodded.

  “Is this a fifty?” Sam asked, staring at the bill.

  “Just bring me the change whenever I see you next. I trust you!” Chase Kark said, picking up the wooden box and walking toward the far rocks. “I’m off to set up my easel and take advantage of this great landscape. Lovely to meet you all.” And with that, he was gone.

  The boys looked at each other.

  “A fifty,” Sam said, his voice disbelieving.

  “Let’s go!” Jax yelled, running toward the truck.

  Eli followed slowly. He felt bad, like there was a lump in his stomach, but he wasn’t sure if it was just leftover queasiness from the kayak, or something bigger, something as big as a giant red-and-white-striped lighthouse. Trying to shake it off, he started to run. After all, ice cream was worth running for, even after a terrible day.

  Jax had to admit that in the few days they’d had on the island without Janie around, giggling and whispering, Valerie Galindo had improved a lot. She was obsessed with her video camera, it was true, forever trying to film them, which was a little annoying. And she wore the craziest clothes, even when they were just going to the beach. But with Janie gone there was no more talk about how cute Sam was, which was a relief, and it turned out she was pretty funny and a decent soccer player. Still, there was no question which Galindo kid was the real score. Alex was better at catching snakes than anyone Jax had ever met. Jax loved to watch snakes, and didn’t mind holding them, but he wasn’t crazy about reaching into dark, damp places and trying to grab them. Alex was a pro.

  Today, after relocating the two tiny green snakes Alex had found under the old tire from Alex’s Chicago White Sox hat to the bug box, Jax and Alex were wrestling with Sir Puggleton and the Galindo-Greens’ dog, Horatio. Horatio was a big Lab-husky mix who was only a year old, and Sir Puggleton had rediscovered his inner puppy when they played. Alex and Jax took turns flinging tennis balls and pulling them out of drooling dog mouths—neither dog was particularly good at giving the ball back—until they were exhausted. Then they lay back on the grass and clover of the yard, staring up at the sky.

  They had just finished comparing their favorite foods, which had led to a discussion of their favorite places. Alex’s list included at least four continents and foods Jax had never even heard of. But Alex’s level of excitement upon hearing that the Fletchers’ aunt Lucy was the Lucy of New York’s Lucy’s Cupcakes, made Jax feel better.

  “Yeah, she’s the coolest,” he bragged, flopping onto his stomach. “She lets us test all the new flavors. She’s coming later this summer. Her and her boyfriend, Elon. He’s pretty awesome too. He’s a magician…like, a really famous one.” It was true. Elon worked at a well-known magic store near Lucy’s apartment, but he also performed in theaters all around the country and sometimes around the world.

  “A magician and a cupcake maker…man, your family is awesome.” Alex sighed. “We barely have any family. Mami has a few ancient aunties and a kind of crazy uncle who lives in Texas and has a bunch of guns. We don’t see him much. And Dad…well, he’s actually our stepdad. That’s why we have different last names. Anyway, his family was the one that had this house. But they’re all dead. He calls himself an orphan and tries to get us to feel sorry for him.”

  “I’ll share the cupcakes when Lucy and Elon come,” Jax promised. “You’ll just have to move fast to get them before Sam.” He rolled onto his back and stared at the sky again. “Hey, Sam just told me this morning—did you know the Patriots picked up a new running back?”

  Alex shrugged and rolled away. “Did I tell you I still don’t care about the New England Patriots? Or any American football team? They’re so lame! A bunch of fat guys in helmets. No thanks.”

  Jax waved his hand dismissively. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. Alex, who had grown up moving among London, Buenos Aires, and Chicago, adored soccer and the Chicago White Sox but didn’t care about any other sports.

  Before Jax could launch into yet another explanation about why real football was still awesome, even if it was slower than soccer, Val appeared. She was even more dressed up than usual, in some kind of bright patterned dress-and-scarf combination. Jax hoped she wasn’t about to go ask Sam on a date or something.

  But Val flopped down on the grass next to them. “Ay, it’s so nice out here. I wish we didn’t have to go to that stupid brunch. Daddy says at least we can go out on the boat after. He says we can bring food and stay out until sunset.”

  Alex groaned. “I forgot about brunch. It’s so lame. I have no idea why we have to be at this thing….It’s honoring the island library or something. I’ve never even been in the library.”

  “Because Mami and Dad donated something, I’m sure,” Val said with a sigh.

  Jax didn’t say anything. It was pretty clear—from the house, the boat, the places they’d traveled—that the Galindo-Green family had a lot of money. But mostly it didn’t matter much. He knew their mom, Natalia, was some kind of semifamous businessperson, in places where businesspeople were famous. Jax hadn’t even heard of Natalia’s company, let alone her. But according to Alex, it could be a real pain when grown-ups sucked up to them to get to their mom. And their dad, who was one of the funniest people Jax had ever met, wrote travel books
that were a really big deal, so he was pretty well known too. His family had owned the Wheelright house forever, though Jax had learned that the rest of his family had either moved far away or were dead.

  “When do you have to go?” he asked, rolling over and looking in the grass for a four-leaf clover. So far he hadn’t found one, but he was patient.

  “Soon,” Val answered. “Alex, you need to go get ready. Dad says you should wear a dress.”

  Jax laughed. Their dad really was hilarious. And he was always doing crazy things. He said it was because he was a writer. Alex groaned again and got up. “This is garbage. It’s an awesome day and we’re going to sit in a restaurant? Lame.”

  The Galindos went in, and Jax headed for home. When he got there, Papa was walking down the driveway.

  “Oh good! You’re home. I was just coming over to get you. We have the library benefit this morning. Take a quick—” He looked closely at Jax, who had grass in his hair and dirt on his hands and knees. “Take a long shower, then get dressed. No sport shorts, please, and wear a collared shirt.”

  “We’re going to this thing too?” Jax asked, his voice rising in outrage. “What? We’re not loaded! Why do we have to go?”

  Papa gave him A LOOK. “Pardon me?”

  Jax backpedaled. “Well, Val and Alex have to go because their parents gave money to the library. Why are we going?”

  Papa gave him a gentle shove toward the house. “Well, let’s see. Your grandmother has the local history room named after her, remember? And your great-grandmother helped start the original permanent library on the island. So yes, even though we are not ‘loaded,’ as you so nicely put it, we have a long history with the library. Now go shower!”

  Jax shuffled off to the outdoor shower. “I’m going, I’m going,” he said. “But I still think it’s a waste of a perfect day.”