“How’d you get it to the dock?” I asked.
“She’s on wheels,” Boggs said as he winked at me.
“Awesome. But how do we get it onto the trailer?” I asked.
“Just a little muscle,” said Danny.
“We’re going to literally push it onto the trailer,” explained Boggs. “Gravity will help, but we have to be careful to not let it drop or it could crack. Danny and I will go below to help guide the nose. You and Susan will push it to us from up here. Once it’s lined up with the trailer I’ll attached the winch and crank it up to the front. See the little wheels that run both sides along the trailer?”
“Yes.”
“She’ll just roll on those.”
“ Abbey?” I said.
“Huh?”
“I think we’ve got this. Do you mind helping Nate with the baby? Sounds like he’s starting to cry.”
“Sure.” she said.
***
It hadn’t taken as long to load the canoe onto the trailer as I had expected. Danny offered to drive to the shore since he knew where the closest car access would be. He assured Boggs that he could handle pulling the trailer and promised to drive slow and steady. Travel time from the cultural center to the shore was only about twenty minutes. Danny explained that we’d have to launch the canoe farther south due to a sight-seeing area that had been constructed at Cape Flattery. It allowed for foot traffic only, so there’d be no way to haul the canoe from the car to the water. It would mean paddling up to an extra mile, depending on currents and wind. He had been taught to manage a canoe since before he was able to walk, so was our best resource. Nathan assured us he’d be able to help row. I echoed his offer with my own, as long as the baby would allow me to set him down.
I was nervous about traveling the open ocean. It was bad enough with adults, but adding a baby seemed so dangerous. There was no safety net. If we capsized, we’d likely all be lost. Danny had packed eight paddles into the body of the canoe, knowing we’d likely need extras in time. We packed our meager supplies into the bottom of the canoe. The sides of the boat were wider than I had expected, giving us ample room. Danny explained that the hull was stretched using water and hot stones to create steam. It allowed the wood to remain intact so that the natural grain added support. Clothes that had been packed into a laundry basket were emptied out and set under the bow seat so that Emmett could ride in style inside of the basket. I made him a nest of blankets and swaddled him tightly in hopes of him staying warm. Abbey tended to the baby as the rest of us rolled the canoe off of the trailer. Susan and I took turns moving small logs as it rolled along the beach, which was a lot easier than dragging the heavy boat through the sand. Unfortunately it was low tide, making the task take longer.
The sun was well past high noon, and we guessed we only had a couple more hours of daylight. The idea of staying ashore till morning was passed around, but the threat of the dead remained too great. According to Danny, there shouldn’t be anyone on Tatoosh Island. The Coast Guard station had long ago been abandoned, the fishing villages were seasonal, and the light house was unmanned. No one outside of the tribe was allowed to set foot ashore Tatoosh without written tribal permission. Arriving after dark was a daunting thought, though. We’d be facing new territory without the advantage of daylight. Flashlights and lanterns would offer little help in the scope of the situation.
Once finally to the water’s edge, we pushed on the canoe until the stern was afloat. Nathan was assisted in first. He sat on the bow seat and swung his leg over. His face was pained from the effort. He slowly made his way to the stern, climbing over the thwarts that ran across the center. I was instructed to climb in next, and told to stay low to avoid tipping side to side. Waves crashed into us, making the vessel feel unstable. I worked my way toward Nathan. Abbey and Susan followed, Susan carrying Emmett. She handed the baby to Abbey, who handed him to me. I placed him into the laundry basket and we all took hold of a paddle. Danny and Boggs took off their shoes and pants and handed them in to Susan for safe keeping. The two pushed on the canoe, launching us out to sea. Once they were knee-deep in the cold waters of the Pacific, they hoisted themselves in on opposite sides of the boat to prevent it from tipping. Facing the west, I looked out toward the horizon. Looming in front of us were the sheer cliffs and jagged rocks of our new home. With it came sadness, hope, and a renewed desperation to live.
~*~
PRAYING FOR GRACE (a sample of chapter one)
(Coming in 2014)
The crossing to Tatoosh Island was rough, tossing our canoe in all directions. Danny would tell us later that he had almost turned us back.
“There’s only three areas we can land the canoe,” the young man explained. “I’m going to steer us toward the closest to the light house. It’s fully automated now, but the old keeper’s house is still standing and we should stay there for the night.”
Baby Emmett had begun crying once we were well away from the shores of Neah Bay. I picked him up and tucked him beneath my coat to warm him. I quickly adjusted the makeshift sling so that I could still help with paddling. At least here, out to sea, his cries would be drowned by wind and waves and not attract the dead. The sun was nearly set by the time the small cove came into view. The cliffs of the island rose at least one hundred feet above the sea, standing sheer and rugged before us. The light house looked down at us. It was daunting, rising to meet the sky and looking like it could fall from the cliffs and into the waters that it guarded.
“Danny?” I called out, raising my voice above the wind. “How will we get up the cliffs?”
“Won’t be easy,” he called back. “There’s a lot of stairs to climb. Let’s worry about landing the boat first.”
I reached out to the island with my mind, searching for danger. A sea lion barked in the distance as if warning us away. The wind was worse here near the shore, seemingly trying to blow us away and out to sea. Nothing about this place felt welcoming. Still, the rocky and jagged shore came closer by the moment. Danny directed all of us except for him and Boggs to stop paddling. The heavy canoe lurched as the stern found the ground beneath the water and scraped along rocks that would likely tear apart a more modern fiberglass hull. The waves were choppy here, tossing us side to side.
Boggs jumped out, making a loud splash beside the boat. He was knee-deep in the cold water and struggled to pull the canoe farther onto shore. Danny joined him in short order, jumping into the waves on the other side of the vessel. He was nearly knocked under as the canoe jarred to the side. Susan followed suit, seeing that they needed help. Abbey stood, holding onto the gunwales on each side. I could tell she was preparing to jump off onto Boggs’ side to help the others as they struggled to keep control of the canoe.
“Abbey, no, stay in the boat!” yelled Danny.
The girl looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. I nodded and she sat on one of the thwarts, near to me and the baby. Nathan had stood on his good leg, using the bow seat to rest the knee of his other leg. He was using his oar against the sea floor to help steady the boat.
Finally, after much effort, enough of the canoe was on dry land to keep it steady. Danny and Susan helped Nathan from the craft while Boggs helped me and Emmett. Abbey had already scrambled to shore and waited for the rest of us. In short order we had dragged supplies to the stairway that wound up the steep cliff face. Danny worked quickly to tie the canoe to man-made concrete pillars on either side of the beach. He explained that by anchoring it at two points it would prevent it from being damaged by the sea. We would only be able to leave at high tide, as low tide would leave it beached.
Finally ready to climb the stairs, we gathered at their base. Each of us carried what we could. In Nate’s case that meant his make-shift crutches and a back pack. In my case it meant baby Emmett and a pack slung over my shoulder, filled with his diapers and clothes. Susan, Abbey, Danny, and Boggs each carried a weapon and their own pack. The four of them would return to the beach for another load af
ter we got settled inside.
I stood looking up the steep steps. Boggs had placed his hands on my shoulders.
“Are you ready?” he whispered to me.
“Yes,” I whispered back.
As Danny took the first step upward, I noticed a lone figure above, looking down at us….
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M. Lauryl is a wife and mother of three little boys. She has loved the horror genre, camping, fishing, and reading all since she was a young girl. Her favorite places to vacation are Alaska and Hawaii, but she’s always glad to return home to the Pacific Northwest. A lover of cats and dogs, she has three of each. In her writing, she attempts to keep characters realistic, so you may note that like real people they all contain flaws. She also writes new adult romance under the pseudonym Blythe Santiago (coming in 2014) and preschool books as Mari Miles.
Fallen Grace Page 19
