Lost At Sea (Sweet Valley High Book 56)

by Francine Pascal

  Winston trotted off to get the knife. Jessica stood on the beach looking out over the water, her eyes narrowed against the bright sun. It was such a big sky and such a huge ocean. How was anybody going to see their measly little pocketknife?

  Suddenly Jessica felt very small and very lost. But before she had a chance to feel sorry for herself, Winston rejoined her, carrying the knife and a rock to rest it on. "Periodically we can spend a few minutes flashing it. The rest of the time we can just leave it here," he told Jessica. "A stationary reflection's better than none." He busied himself positioning the knife.

  Jessica would never have admitted it to anyone, but it was really kind of nice to have Winston around. It was definitely an improvement over being alone, anyway. Jessica knew she would have been a lot more scared, and a lot hungrier, if she hadn't stumbled upon Winston.

  He was actually taking charge of the situation, in his own oddball fashion. It would never have occurred to her to have devised some sort of signal to passing boats and planes. Thanks to Winston, the two of them might get off the island soon, and in the meantime, she was well fed and she had someone to talk to.

  Relaxing somewhat, Jessica sat down on the sand. Maybe Winston Egbert's not so bad after all! she thought.

  Eight

  "Hey, Winston!" Jessica called. "When are you serving lunch?"

  Winston, who had wandered off to explore the island, had just reappeared at the opposite end of the beach from where Jessica was sunbathing. He joined her and squatted in the sand.

  "Don't tell me you're hungry again already!" He feigned amazement. "I know you're energetic, Jess, but I didn't know you had to eat every hour on the hour."

  Jessica slapped Winston playfully on the shoulder. "It's been a whole bunch of hours since that fish," she corrected him in self-defense. "And admit it, you've got to be starving after all your exploring."

  "Why, yes, I am rather famished," Winston confessed in a self-important tone. "It was rough going, navigating such uncharted terrain."

  "Well, what did Lewis and Clark and Egbert discover out there?" Jessica teased.

  Winston settled onto the sand, sitting cross-legged. "It's a good-sized island," he reported. "I think I only made it about a third or fourth of the way around the perimeter. I pretty much stayed to the beach because it was easier walking. But I found a stream for drinking water and a little bluff that drops in a cliff right down to the ocean. And lots of palm trees."

  "I don't suppose you saw a hot dog stand or an ice-cream parlor," Jessica said wistfully.

  Winston shook his head. "Nope. But I saw tons more berries and fruit, and we know that beautiful ocean out there is just hopping with fish!"

  Jessica wrinkled her nose. She had a feeling she could get tired of a berry and fish diet awfully fast. On the other hand, maybe she should ignore her hunger pangs and try to lose some weight. Then, when she bent back to school after being rescued, she would be slimmer as well as more tanned. Ken Matthews would fall over when he saw her.

  "But when are we going to be rescued?" Jessica worried out loud. A couple of jet planes had flown over the island that morning, probably on their way to Hawaii, but for the most part, both the sea and the sky had remained empty.

  Winston shrugged. "It's impossible to tell," he said. "I suppose it could be hours—or it could be days. That's why I think we should go right now and find some food. But not just for lunch today. I think we should make a little stockpile. Then every time we need to eat we don't have to go hunting and foraging."

  Jessica wriggled her toes in the sand. Gathering berries just didn't sound like much fun to her. And if they were rescued in a matter of hours rather than days, all that labor would be pointless.

  "You can go ahead and look for food," Jessica informed him. "I think I'll just pick some flowers and decorate my end of the beach."

  Winston shook his head. "No, we've got to work as a team, Jessica," he insisted. "Teamwork's essential to wilderness survival, and finding food before nightfall is our number-one priority."

  Jessica rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, Egbert. You sound like a Cub Scout leader! I mean, really, finding food won't take much time at all. We can do it later. I want to do something fun." Jessica had a vision of herself wearing a skirt made of palm fronds and with pink hibiscus woven in her loose, flowing hair. She would be reclining against a bower of fragrant tropical flowers when the rescue boat pulled up. One thing was for sure, she couldn't greet any handsome sailors looking like she did right now. Her shorts and shirt were wrinkled beyond belief, not to mention being torn and full of sand. Her hair was one big tangle. Improving her appearance was her top priority.

  "Fun?" Winston pronounced the word as if he'd never heard it before, which Jessica found amusing, considering he was always kidding around.

  "Yes," Jessica said, "Fun. Got something against it?"

  "Nope." Winston's expression remained self-righteous. "But there's a time and place for everything."

  He turned away from Jessica to look out at the water and the sky. She followed his gaze. The sky had become partly cloudy, and the northwesterly breeze had picked up quite a bit since that morning. "It looks like rain to me," Winston speculated. "What do you think?"

  "Maybe," Jessica admitted. "But I'm not a meteorologist," she added dryly.

  "Well, I think we should wait on the food and build a shelter instead, right away. And collect some firewood and get it under cover where it'll stay dry," Winston suggested.

  To Jessica that sounded even more uninteresting than gathering food. "Do we have to?" She moaned.

  "Do you want to get soaking wet and freeze to death—and be starving on top of that?" Winston challenged her.

  Jessica stuck her tongue out at him. "I plan to be rescued before it starts to rain," she informed him airily.

  Winston sighed. "Women," he muttered under his breath. Then he held up one index finger, inspired. "I know, how about this? We'll build a shelter together, and then you can pick your flowers and decorate it. That way it'll be half work and half fun. Is that a fair compromise?"

  Jessica pretended to hold out, for the sake of argument. But inside she knew that Winston's proposal was sensible. She didn't want to get caught in the rain. Then she would look even worse when the rescuers arrived! "OK," she relented. "I'll help you build the stupid shelter. Anything to get you off my back!"

  "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking sooner or later," Winston said. "You've got what it takes to be an Eagle Scout, Wakefield."

  "Don't press your luck, Egbert!" Jessica warned him, standing up and dusting the sand off her shorts.

  They decided to build the shelter on the north side of the beach where Winston had lit the fire that morning. A tall heap of rocks created a natural back wall. "We'll only need two front supports—a couple of long, sturdy branches or lightweight logs—and then we'll be able to put up a roof," Winston declared.

  That sounded easy enough to Jessica. "You're the boss," she reminded Winston. "I'm ready to take my orders!"

  "No, we're equals," he said. "A team, remember?"

  Jessica rolled her eyes. "All right, teammate. But you're still going to have to tell me what to do. I don't take shop, remember?"

  Winston chuckled.

  They started by scouring the woods for two fallen branches big enough to act as pillars to support the front end of the shelter. It didn't take long to find them; there were dozens of fallen trees scattered in the forest beyond the beach. "Mark this spot, Jess," Winston recommended. "We should come back here to get some firewood later."

  "Yes, sir," Jessica joked.

  Next they collected lighter, more flexible branches to lay on top of the wooden supports. They connected them to the stone wall in the back and threaded them through each other, thereby forming the base for a roof. Winston used some of the string from the emergency kit to tie branches snugly together. The final step was to gather palm leaves, lots of them. Layers of the large, thick leaves stitched roughl
y onto branches with string almost magically became side walls for the shelter. When they layered palm leaves on top for the roof as well, the shelter was complete.

  Both Jessica and Winston were thrilled with the product of their labor. Jessica clapped her hands, delighted. "It's so rustic, just like something out of a movie!" she exclaimed.

  "Not a bad piece of construction," Winston admitted proudly.

  "And I have a few ideas for the inside," Jessica said.

  "While you're working on that, I'll build a fire pit with stones outside the open end of the shelter," Winston told her.

  The first thing Jessica did was gather yet another armful of palm fronds. Spreading them across the sand at the rear of the shelter, she created a sort of palm-leaf sofa. Then she located some leafy vines she had noticed earlier and cut a few dozen pieces of the vine to hang from the roof to the floor of the shelter. She used these to create a curtain that separated the shelter into two rooms, one for her and one for Winston. Last but not least she picked a whole bunch of fresh, fragrant flowers to fill the corners of the shelter and the cracks in the rock wall.

  "I'm beat!" Jessica announced after she had placed her last flower in their new cottage. She sat down on the sofa on her side of the vine curtain and stretched out her legs.

  Winston had just finished the fire pit, and now he ducked inside the four-foot-high shelter. He whistled his appreciation of Jessica's work. "Wow, this is wild!" he enthused. "Kind of primitive, kind of psychedelic. I'll bet they feature this in the next issue of Good Housekeeping."

  Jessica shrugged. "What can I say? My mom's an interior designer. I guess that's where my exquisite taste comes from!" She giggled, picturing her bedroom at home with its brown walls, dying plants, and eternal mess. Now that was a room for Good Housekeeping!

  "Well . . ." Winston put his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. "May I join you?" he asked formally.

  "Of course!" Jessica moved over to make room for Winston on the sofa.

  He sat down gingerly, careful not to disturb the neatly arranged fronds. They sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, surveying their work. The sandy floor was smooth and soft. The palm-leaf sides and roof were tightly woven, and sunlight filtered in through only a few small holes. If it rained, they would probably stay fairly dry.

  "It looks pretty nice, huh?" Winston glanced at Jessica for confirmation.

  "Oh, yeah. All the comforts of home," she agreed. "Well, some of them, anyway."

  "And that's thanks to you," Winston said shyly. "I, um, admire the way you pitched in with this and worked so hard decorating and stuff. It really makes a difference. I couldn't have done all this on my own."

  "You sound surprised!" Jessica noted, not sure whether to feel flattered or offended, but leaning toward the latter.

  "Well, let's just put it this way," Winston began. "I think I've seen a new side of you since we've been here on this island. I mean, not that your other sides are so bad, but—" He made a wry face. "I'm putting my foot in my mouth, huh?"

  "A couple of toes, at least," Jessica said. Under any other circumstances she really would have gotten steamed and told Winston just what she thought of him. But in the time they had spent on the island together, things between them had changed a little. She thought she knew what Winston was trying to say, in his usual tactless way. She couldn't believe it, but Winston had surprised her, too. If she had been stuck on the island on her own, she would still be frying herself in the sun, not giving a thought to food and shelter.

  "I guess I know what you mean," Jessica added grudgingly, a moment later. She smoothed the sandy floor with one hand. "I would never have thought a practical joker like you could be so practical!"

  She looked at Winston and grinned. He blushed and Jessica lowered her eyes, feeling stupid. How can you even think such sappy things about Winston Egbert, of all people? she wondered to herself. Maybe she had lost her mind during that long swim to the island. Maybe she was just in shock. In any case, she thought she had better stop talking. Winston might get ideas, imagine she actually wanted to be friends with him.

  Winston broke the awkward pause first by jumping abruptly to his feet. "We probably shouldn't waste time sitting around," he said, getting back to the business at hand. "We still need food and firewood. Ready for action?"

  Jessica jumped up from the couch and raced to the door of the shelter, happy to have an excuse to cut their conversation short. "Last one to catch a fish is a rotten egg!" she yelled as she ran toward the beach ahead of him.

  Nine

  "I just can't sit here doing nothing any longer!" Steven declared, his brown eyes filled with frustration.

  Elizabeth flashed her brother a sympathetic look. She knew exactly how he was feeling. She'd had about all the waiting she could take, too.

  She had driven home right after school, having managed to finish her column for The Oracle during her free period. It was probably the worst one she had ever written, but at least it was done.

  Steven and her parents were in the kitchen, in practically the same positions they had occupied the night before. The Coast Guard was still looking for Jessica and Winston, using boats and helicopters, and the Wakefield and Egbert families couldn't do anything but sit by the phone and wait for the latest report from the search team.

  Mr. Wakefield put a hand on his son's shoulder. "It's tough not being able to take any action ourselves," he agreed. "We just have to be patient."

  "But we could take action ourselves," Elizabeth spoke up. Her family looked at her, obviously startled by her suggestion. "I bumped into Bruce Patman in the hall after the last bell," she explained. "He'd just called Nicholas Morrow at work." Nicholas, already a high school graduate, was taking time off before college to work in his father's computer company. "Bruce and Nicholas started talking about Jessica and Winston, and Nicholas offered to take a group of us out in his family's boat to look for them."

  "Do you think that's a good idea, Ned? Do you think it's safe?" Alice Wakefield anxiously asked her husband.

  "Oh, Mom, you know Nicholas!" Elizabeth said quickly, before her father could respond. "He's a very experienced sailor. He races his own sailboat single-handedly. And he's very mature and responsible."

  "Well . . ." Mr. Wakefield loosened the knot on his tie as he thought about the suggestion. "I don't see why not, Alice. There won't be any trouble with Nicholas at the helm. The weather's perfect, besides."

  "Good, then I'll call him right now!" Elizabeth hurried to the telephone, glad to have something to do.

  "Way to go, Liz!" Steven cheered.

  Elizabeth reached Nicholas at his office. He had already arranged to take the rest of the afternoon off, and he was glad the Wakefields had decided to take him up on his offer.

  "He said he'll meet us at the marina in half an hour," Elizabeth informed Steven. "Bruce and Ken are going to come along, and Nicholas says there's plenty of room for Cara and Jeffrey, too. Can we borrow your car, Dad?"

  "Sure. Good luck!" Mr. Wakefield encouraged them. "I hope you find her, but be careful."

  Steven was already halfway to the door. "Let's go!"

  Elizabeth and Steven picked up Cara and Jeffrey on the way to the marina. Nicholas, Bruce, and Ken, all dressed in shorts and T-shirts, and wearing sunglasses, were already gathered at the pier where the Morrows' yacht was berthed.

  As she strode down the weathered wooden ramp, Elizabeth experienced a sensation of déjà vu that sent a shiver up her spine. Was it really only yesterday that she and Jessica had arrived at the marina, just in time to board the Maverick and head off on the field trip? It seemed like years had elapsed since then.

  Now Elizabeth felt a qualm on her own behalf. The wind down by the water was very brisk, and whitecaps dotted the ocean. Even though the sky was clear, there were a few dark clouds on the horizon, far, far away. She didn't really want to get on another boat after what she'd gone through the day before. You chicken! she accused herself. You'll be perfectl
y safe with Nicholas in charge. And Jessica's life is at stake!

  Elizabeth felt braver when Jeffrey took her hand and gave it a warm squeeze, as if he knew what she was thinking.

  Nicholas greeted Elizabeth with a brotherly hug. "I can imagine what you guys are going through," he said as he shook Steven's hand firmly. His voice was rough with emotion, and Elizabeth knew he was thinking about his own sister, Regina, who had died recently.

  "Thank you so much for helping us look for Jessica and Winston," Elizabeth said softly.

  Nicholas squeezed her shoulder with one strong hand. "It's the least I can do."

  A minute later the entire group had boarded the twenty-eight-foot Nighthawk. While Nicholas started the powerful engine, the others removed the tarps. Within five minutes they were chugging out of the harbor. Nicholas carefully obeyed the harbor speed limit until he reached the buoys marking the harbor mouth, and then he gunned the engine, and the Nighthawk really took off.

  Ken spread out a nautical map of the area. Bruce took the wheel while Nicholas conferred with Ken about the best possible course to take.

  "Judging by the direction of the storm yesterday, I think we should head for the southernmost Channel Islands," Ken recommended. "We were only fifteen minutes from Anacapa Island when we jumped ship and Jess and Winston disappeared. They might have made it back to Anacapa or another one of these little islands." He pointed them out on the map.

  "It looks like a logical place to start," Nicholas agreed. "Hey, Patman!" he yelled as the Nighthawk began speeding even faster. "What are you trying to do with my boat, fly it?"

  Bruce looked over his shoulder, his hair whipping in the wind, and grinned. "I happen to know for a fact that Jessica Wakefield doesn't like to be kept waiting!" he retorted.

  Pretending to be peeved, Nicholas took over the wheel. From where she was sitting, snuggled securely next to Jeffrey, Elizabeth watched Nicholas. His strong profile—the dark hair, straight nose, and determined expression—and his take-charge attitude filled her with hope. And Bruce's flip remark had lightened her heart. Bruce spoke as if Jessica were just over the curve of the horizon, standing on the shore of one of the islands, tapping her foot impatiently. It was a welcome change from the way the gang had been talking earlier in the day during lunch period.