by Tara Ellis
“To our friend and benefactor, Mr. Benjamin ‘Benny’ Potts. 12/10/1955 – 08/12/2010. May he rest in peace within the sea he loved so much. Dedicated by your friend, Mr. Gregory Kingsman.” Ally reads the inscription aloud, and then turns to their guide. “Wasn’t this school program the first one they founded?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Trent confirms. “There are still nearly ten charities that the Potts’ Foundation contributes to, but this afterschool program is the first and only one that was created and run solely by them. I was actually working in the office for Mr. Potts at his boat company when the … accident happened. Poor Mrs. Potts. I think it would have helped to some degree to have at least found the boat.”
Sam reaches out and runs a hand softly over one of the spokes of the wheel, imaging what it must have been like, out there on the stormy water with his boat being torn apart. Shivering slightly, she pulls her hand away and focuses on the picture. Mr. Potts looked like a very pleasant man. With round cheeks and graying hair, he could have easily played Santa Claus by simply adding a beard. His blue eyes had a sparkle to them, the sort you find in people with a special flare for life. Sam knows instantly that he was someone she would have liked.
Just then, a group of rowdy kids burst from the hallway, Kim running close behind, trying to corral them. There are six of them, looking to be around eight years old, all dressed in various pirate outfits, complete with Styrofoam swords.
“Aye, matey!” a boy with an eye patch shouts. “Come back here! You have to go walk the plank!”
Shrieking, an even younger girl with a pirate hat on ducks out of his grasp and dashes behind Sam. “Okay, I surrender!” she hollers, feigning fear. “I’ll take you to the shipwreck! I know where the gold is!”
Mrs. Trent just laughs, and before they know it, all three older girls are caught up in the play-acting. They’re eventually led by sword point out into a backyard play area, where they are made to ‘walk the plank’. Afterwards, they join all the kids for snack time and talk with them about what they want in the haunted house.
An hour later, the three friends reemerge from the charming building, full of conversation about the design they’re rapidly coming up with. They head back down the sidewalk, the local stores their new destination. They have a better idea now of what they’ll ask for in donations.
Sam is distracted though, and only half-heartedly engaged in the conversation. She’s bothered by a persistent thought gnawing at the back of her mind. Something about the pirates and a shipwreck. It brought up a distant memory that she’s been struggling to remember. Her brother. Pirates. A secret cove containing a shipwreck.
Wait!
Stopping, Sam gasps at the revelation, and Cassy and Ally turn to look at her in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Ally asks, but already recognizes the look on her best friends face. She’s seen it a number of times before and it causes a stir of excitement deep in her chest.
Looking at Cassy and Ally intently, Sam’s eyes are wide. “I think I know where Mr. Potts’ boat is!”
5
A PIRATE COVE
“I still don’t understand why you think it’s so important to go to the pirate cove,” John states, glancing up in the rearview mirror. The three girls are crammed into the backseat of his small Honda Accord, with Sam sandwiched in the middle. His blue eyes lock briefly on her green ones, before focusing his attention back on the road. He’s directing the question at her, since she was the one begging him this morning to take them on this excursion.
“You know how Sam is,” Hunter says loudly around a mouthful of popcorn he brought for the journey. “She’s got to turn everything into some sort of mysterious drama.” Turning from his perch in the front seat, he tosses a handful of the snack at his younger sister’s face.
Opening her mouth just in time to catch one of the kernels, Sam doesn’t back away from her brother’s criticism. “It’s nothing like that.” She moves her arm out of Cassy’s way, so her friend can scoop up the rest of the popcorn from her lap. Constant hunger is a trait she shares with Hunter.
“I just think that if the old wreckage is Mr. Potts’ boat, it would help give Mrs. Potts some closure. Besides, how many times did Ally and I beg you guys to let us go out there with you?” Sam crosses her arms and glares at the back of Hunter’s head. Somehow sensing the scrutiny, he slides down in his seat without answering, and continues to dig noisily into the bag of food in his lap.
The pirate cove was a secret spot the two boys discovered three summers ago, while searching for a good place to fish. Nestled back in a dense area of trees that are partly submerged during unusually high tides, they found the remains of an old boat that was obviously in the water for a long time.
Sam recalls how excited the two were when they returned that afternoon, talking over each other, the possibilities growing with each telling. It was an ancient, lost ship, or part of a turn of the century passenger liner hauling riches across the ocean. Maybe it belonged to long lost explorers and there was a map somewhere in it that led to where they hid their gold.
Ally begged John for days to take them, but he insisted that it was too dangerous. That they had to forge treacherous waters to get there, and it was no place for kids. Of course, John was barely thirteen himself then, and once their parents got wind of the story, about a month later, it all came to a crashing halt.
Sam’s parents took the boys to the local ranger station, where they then led the park official to the ‘wreckage’. It ended up being on State land, an area that was part of one of many local state parks. Hunter and John had the proper fishing permits, and weren’t doing anything wrong other than exaggerating their find.
According to Kathy Wolf, who explained the scene to Sam with a smile on her face, it was nothing more than a small section of a hull. The boys were messing with them yet again. The ranger estimated that it was less than twenty years old, and seeing as how garbage and relics from as far as Japan washed up often on the shores of the Pacific Northwest, he wasn’t too interested in the find.
Hunter and John were a little sheepish for a few days, but they still refused to share their find with their younger sisters. Since it was too far for the young girls to explore on their own, the pirate cove maintained its secret, whimsical status. John and Hunter drifted apart that following school year, and no one has ever mentioned the place again. Until now.
“You do realize that the chance of this being Mr. Potts’ boat is extremely slim.”
John’s voice breaks through Sam’s daydreaming, and she jerks back to attention. The car has turned off the main road that leads south, out of town, and onto a less traveled graveled surface. They pass a small brown sign announcing the park entrance two miles ahead. There are several shortcuts and trails that kids on bikes can use to get to the park, but it’s still an hour’s ride. In the car, it’s about half an hour.
Sam looks out at the water sparkling off to her right, part of Puget Sound. She tries to picture the stormy seas that occurred that night, tossing poor Mr. Potts around until his boat was torn apart. The sound is usually protected somewhat during storms, and not nearly as dangerous as out in the open waters, which is probably one of the reasons the seasoned seaman was caught off guard. Could part of his custom boat have been washed up here? Why not? It’s certainly within what must have been the original search area. The sea could have held onto its loot for years though, before finally surrendering it during another, smaller storm.
“I know that,” Sam finally answers, still staring at the water. “I just have a … feeling.”
“Uh-oh,” Ally moans, slapping a hand to her forehead. “I knew it!”
Cassy stops chewing and sits up straighter, her eyes brightening. “Really? Like, a legit something isn’t right feeling? I knew it! What is it? Does it have to do with the whole cologne in the hallway thing, or the wet - ”
“Whoa!” Sam hushes, cutting her friend off with a quick sideways glance to the boys. While Cassy was an
important part of their last mystery, she hasn’t been involved in any of their other escapades. Sam gets that she’s excited by the prospect, but they always have to be careful about how much they reveal to their brothers, or else risk endless teasing.
“Cologne?” Hunter echoes mockingly. “You better not be getting involved in anything,” he warns, not even bothering to ask what it’s about. “Mom will go ballistic.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Sam leans forward, straining the seatbelt to its furthest length. Up ahead, the main park entrance is rapidly approaching, and she bounces slightly in the seat in her excitement. “Are we almost there?” she asks, intentionally changing the subject and not taking her brothers bait for a fight.
“Just about,” John confirms with furrowed brows. He knows there’s more to this, but decides to let it go. For now. “The parking area is right up here, but then we have a nice little hike. I hope we can remember where to go.”
“I remember.” Hunter lobs the empty bag of popcorn at Cassy playfully, who bats it aside. “Got a memory like a computer,” he adds, tapping the side of his head.
“Yeah, maybe one that has a crashed hard drive,” Sam counters. As the car comes to a stop, she climbs over a squealing Ally and leaps out the passenger door before her brother can grab her.
Running around to the driver’s side, Sam then ducks behind John. He crouches down and extends his long arms out to either side. Laughing, Hunter lunges at the older boy unsuccessfully, giving up after a couple of tries.
“Just wait ‘til I’m on varsity, Sam,” Hunter says good-naturedly, holding his sides as if already winded. “I’ll be four inches taller, and you won’t be able to outrun me anymore!”
“I don’t know about that, Hunter,” Ally counters, leaning up against the car and watching the display with amusement. “I don’t know anyone who can run as fast as Sam.”
“Yeah,” Cassy adds, jogging up to lightly side-tackle Hunter with a bump of her shoulder. “And you’d have to give up all the extra food.”
Regaining his balance, Hunter turns to face Cassy, a very serious expression on his face. “You have a very valid point.”
Peeking around John’s solid form, Sam laughs at her friends. Although it’s well into Fall, it’s an unseasonably warm day. The often-rainy skies are instead a crisp, bright blue. The sun has warmed the dry leaves on the ground, releasing a smell that Sam associates with jumping into leaf piles. It mingles with the rich scent of the towering pine trees that surround them, and Sam briefly wonders why they haven’t come out here before, pirate cove or not.
Ally pushes away from the car, her bright red hair a stark contrast to the white vehicle. “Which way do we go?” she asks, eager to get underway.
“Ummmm…,” Hunter mumbles, refocusing on his surroundings. Scanning the tree line along the parking lot, he spots an apparent bike trail, and wanders over to it. “This is the trail we used to get here,” he explains, as everyone follows closely behind.
“Yup,” John confirms. “It goes all the way to the trailhead at the city park, next to the cemetery.”
“We would drop our bikes over here,” Hunter continues, walking over to a paved footpath on the other side, next to a large sign with the park rules listed on it. “We’ll go down this trail for a ways, and then there’s a spot next to a big boulder where you turn off. That’s the whole reason we found it, really. ‘Cause we were climbing on the rock, trying to see who could get to the top of it first. John made it, and then spotted some water off through the trees. We figured that if we could find a secluded area to put our lines in, we might have a better chance of catching something, rather than at the public picnic and fishing area.”
“Did you? Catch anything, I mean,” Cassy asks, starting down the foot trail at a brisk pace.
“Nah. It’s a horrible area to try and fish. No real beach or anything, since the trees pretty much extend out into the water.”
With Cassy and the boys leading the way, Sam and Ally link arms and bring up the rear. It’s cooler under the shade of the trees, and Sam is thankful for the sweatshirt she’s wearing.
Before long, the group comes upon the described boulder and head off into the trees on an unmarked trail. After fifteen minutes of climbing over fallen logs, brushing aside branches, and avoiding stinging nettle, Sam isn’t so sure that they’re ever going to get there. Just as she’s about to voice her concerns, John shouts from a ways ahead of them.
“We’re here!”
Pushing through a large fern and nearly falling over a moss-covered rock, Sam finally stumbles into a large clearing. Her expectations having been built up over the years, her initial reaction is disappointment. Off to the far side of the open space, Hunter and John are standing atop an approximate five-foot long section of old boards, still loosely held together by a couple of cross-sections. The whole piece is smaller than a twin-sized bed, and aside from the aging wood, nothing else is left attached to it.
“That’s it?” Ally murmurs, obviously also unimpressed.
“Well, we told you there was some exaggeration involved,” John offers. “I said this would be a waste of time.”
Undeterred, Sam moves closer to inspect the debris. They came all this way, and she’s never been wrong before when following one of her hunches. Taking in the landscape, she quickly surmises how it even got here. Normally dry, like today, during extremely high tides, the woods in this area must fill with tidal water. It would have been a huge surge, to bring the remnants this far inland, leaving it behind when it retreated to the ocean.
Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she snaps off a couple of pictures of the cove. Then, kneeling down next to the wood, she leans in close and reaches out to run a hand along the surface.
“Wanna magnifying glass, Sherlock?”
Cassy shoves at Hunter, who ducks out of the way.
Ignoring her brother, Sam scoots even closer, holding her phone up to get a clear shot of a single length of planking. Intrigued by her intense scrutiny, John and Ally also lean in.
“What is it, Sam?” Ally questions, only seeing old, weathered wood.
‘This isn’t wood,” Sam answers slowly. Pushing back on her heels, she looks up at her best friend, a huge grin on her face. “And this is Mr. Potts’ boat!”
6
THE GHOST OF EAGLE CREEK
Sam, Ally, and Cassy sit in a rough circle on the gym floor of Eagle Creek Middle School. Various department store bags are strewn around them, their donated contents spilling out. The result is what looks like a scene out of a Halloween story gone wrong. Masks, streamers, signs, plastic skeletons, and bags of cobwebs litter the floor, without any sort of obvious order.
Lisa Covington stands near the entrance to the gym, her hands resting on her slim hips as she watches the girls with a concerned expression. There were three other kids that originally showed up at their agreed upon meeting time of noon. However, they quickly found different excuses as to why they couldn’t stay longer on a nice, Sunday afternoon. It’s now three, and not much has been accomplished. Taking a deep breath, she tries to put on a positive appearance and approaches her sister and students.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to call it a day, girls.”
“But we still have so much to do!” Sam gasps, alarmed at the how quickly the project is unraveling. Looking down at the map for the maze they’re working on, she adds a line, creating another dead end where something scary can be placed.
“I’m sorry,” Lisa continues, starting to gather up the decorations. “But I just got a call regarding the mare I looked at last week. They’ve selected Covington Ranch as her new home! Now Orion won’t be alone. The only reason I can afford her is because she’s a rescue horse, but she’ll be perfect for the riding school once she’s settled. I simply don’t have time to go collect her during the school week, and they’re limited on space and eager to get her placed. I have to leave soon, if I’m going to get her back home before dark.”
While disappointed they have to cut their time short, Sam is excited by the prospect of a new horse! She and Ally have already made plans to work on the horse farm over the summer, so she’ll be taking care of the mare. “What’s her name?” Sam asks without a word of complaint while putting a scary clown mask in a bag.
“Glory,” Lisa answers, pausing to turn and look at Sam. “Isn’t that just the perfect name for a horse?”
“What if John and Hunter could come help us?”
Turning to Ally in surprise, Lisa tilts her head questioningly at her.
“I mean, John is sixteen,” Ally implores. “Couldn’t you trust him to lock up the gym after us? And he can give us a ride home.”
“I heard Hunter say this morning that the two of them are just hanging out around the house today,” Sam adds, her hopes rising.
“Don’t you need help getting Glory?” Cassy asks her sister, torn between wanting to work on the project and meeting the new horse.
“The only time I’ll need you is after I get her back to the ranch,” Lisa answers, still considering the proposal. “I suppose I could leave the keys with John, so long as you put everything away in the supply closet I showed you, and get back home by seven to help me.”
Holding a hand up, Ally is already on her cell phone, speaking animatedly with her brother. “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes!” she exclaims happily after hanging up. “But we do have a bag of candy here somewhere, right? Because there’s bribery involved.”
Laughing, Cassy digs around and quickly comes up with a large sack of assorted candy bars. “I think the cause justifies breaking into this.”
Sam goes back to work on the diagram. Once it’s done, they can start figuring out how to use the decorations, and how many pieces of cardboard they’ll need.
Actually, she thinks to herself, John and Hunter could be a big help with that. Glancing over at a huge pile of large, flat panels of cardboard, Sam tries not to sigh. The whole thing is a little overwhelming. And she’s trying not to think about the pirate cove and what they found. It was incredibly disappointing this morning, when Lisa told them that Mrs. Potts wasn’t available to meet with them until tomorrow afternoon.
