Becca at Sea Page 8
“Maybe I can take Mollie and Ardeth sailing,” Becca said as she hugged him and Auntie Meg goodbye. “They’re coming tomorrow.”
Becca loved Mollie and Ardeth. They built the best sandcastles in the world, and last year they’d made a raft and the three of them had paddled all the way to Anderson Point. They’d played Sardines, Capture the Flag and Kick the Can. They’d taken Becca for hikes and picnics with their friends from around the bay — Kathy and Frances and Tasha. Mollie and Ardeth loved doing things, but unlike Aunt Fifi, their adventures didn’t always involve pain, and unlike Lucy and Alicia, they didn’t usually involve getting into trouble.
But Becca could see from the instant Mollie and Ardeth arrived that this summer was different.
They were big. They always had been, but this summer they loomed and towered. They bounded about with great, strong bodies, laughing at things that didn’t make sense to her. They were fifteen, and twins.
“Let’s swim!” they cried, hurling clothes as they dug for their bathing suits.
They ran into the water with Becca between them, swinging her over the waves.
* * *
But the next morning they slept late.
“Let’s swim,” Becca said, poking the lumps in sleeping bags. “Let’s go sailing.”
“They’re still asleep,” said Gran — quite unnecessarily, Becca thought. “But there’s nothing to stop you and me from going swimming.”
Becca could hardly wait for them to wake up.
She and Gran swam, made and ate breakfast, did the dishes and pumped a supply of drinking water from the well. They had coffee with Kay, visited the free store and shopped at the farmers’ market.
But when they got home, Mollie and Ardeth were still asleep.
“It must have been a long trip,” Becca said.
Gran smiled.
“Probably,” she said. “Let’s pick the last of the lavender.”
“And the one tomato?” Becca asked, for Gran’s garden looked rather sad in spite of all the spring-time labor. “What happened to the peas?”
“Robins got them,” Gran said. “Slugs, too. Here’s a basket for lavender.”
Becca loved the deep, oily scent of lavender. She picked each stem carefully, thinking of last summer.
“Last year when it was windy we played in the waves before breakfast,” she said. “It was the very first day after they got here. Remember?”
“I remember,” said Gran.
“Why are they so sleepy?”
“Sleep is like food for them,” Gran said. “You’ll probably be like that too in a few years.”
“Never,” said Becca.
They took a long time up in the garden, and when they returned to the cabin, Mollie and Ardeth were reading.
“What are we going to do?” Becca cried, jumping on to Mollie’s lap. “Let’s sail! I know how to sail now!”
Mollie laughed and gave her a squeeze.
“No, let’s read! Right now we’re going to read, and then later we’ll go for a swim.”
* * *
Every day it was the same. Mollie and Ardeth slept, and then they read. Then they napped. They would play for a very little while — go for a swim or take out the Zodiac, but only row it as far as Anderson Point, and then they would insist on coming back to Gran’s almost at once, and when they were there they would read again for a long, long time. Becca liked books, too, but she wanted to do something. And Gran wouldn’t let her sail alone.
“They’re only here for four days!” Becca wailed. “And two of them are already over! When are we going to start having fun?”
“You’ve been having fun!” Gran protested. “Yesterday you swam with them, and the day before they took you out in the boat!”
But it wasn’t enough — a few bursts of fun in between stretches of reading or sleeping. They even napped in the afternoon. Like babies!
“There’s something wrong with them,” Becca insisted. “It’s not fair!”
“Becca, out!” Gran said suddenly. “I will not listen to you moan for another minute. Go pick some rosemary. And don’t forget to close the gate!”
As if she would! This visit was even worse than having no one around. Becca wished it was over.
That night when she went to bed, she peered over the edge of the loft, down at the heads of Mollie, Ardeth and Gran, all bent over their books. Evening was the time to read, Becca thought. Or rainy days. She could understand that. But summer days — they were the time to explore, to swim, to play hard and to have fun.
Mollie and Ardeth had no life at all.
* * *
Long after she’d fallen asleep, Becca awoke. Something smelled delicious, and even though it was far into the night, there was a light on below. She squirmed to the edge of the loft.
What had wakened her? Was it the smell? Popcorn and butter and something else — something so sweet and enticing that it had almost seemed to shake her awake.
Or was it Mollie?
Mollie was squawking. She was laughing so hard she was leaning over sideways, her face buried in her arms. She made little squeaking snorts and pounded her fist helplessly on the table.
She and Ardeth were playing Scrabble.
“Hand over the popcorn,” Ardeth whispered. “Don’t be such an animal. You sound like a pig.”
“What are you doing?” Becca asked. “Can I have some?”
“Becca!”
Ardeth smiled and got up. She stood under Becca and held out her arms.
“Come on down!” she said quietly. “It’s a midnight feast!”
Becca slipped down the ladder.
“Help yourself!” Ardeth whispered. “Mollie, if you don’t stop laughing you’ll have to go outside! You’ll wake up Gran.”
“There, I won,” Mollie announced, stuffing her mouth with popcorn.
It wasn’t just popcorn, it was caramel popcorn. It was like eating clouds. Becca’s mouth seemed to rain when she tasted it.
“Are you still playing Scrabble?” she asked. “Can I play?”
“We’re finished,” Mollie said. “But now we’re going to — ”
She stopped and looked at Ardeth.
“We’re going swimming,” she whispered. “Do you want to come?”
“What about Gran?”
“Sh! She doesn’t know,” Ardeth said.
“It’s our secret, heh-heh!” Mollie boasted, and she gave a great wink.
It was terribly dark when they tiptoed on to the beach, but after a moment Becca’s eyes changed, or the stars grew brighter, or perhaps the water began to glow. Something changed and Becca could see, faintly, the stones at her feet.
“Come on,” Ardeth said. Although Gran couldn’t possibly hear them, Ardeth spoke quietly. It seemed as if the bay itself might be asleep, silently rocking reflections of the stars.
As they crunched over snails and dried seaweed, Becca thought she heard other movements, footsteps not their own.
“Stop,” she said, tugging at Mollie’s hand. “What’s that?”
“It’s only Marion,” Ardeth said.
“Is Marion coming, too?”
Marion joined them and panted, “I almost fell over Dad and Mum! They were sleeping on the porch and I didn’t even know!”
Mollie stifled her laughter, but mysteriously Becca seemed to hear it anyway — a chuckle from somewhere along the beach. Out from the trees stepped Tasha, almost as if she’d been waiting.
And down on the sand was Ardeth’s friend Frances, and Sarah who worked at the store.
“Let’s leave our clothes here,” Mollie said. “Where it’s dry. We’ll go down to the water while we wait for the others.”
“What others?”
“A festival of friends,” Ardeth murmured.
The stars
changed as they waited. For one thing, there were more of them, a great swoop of sparkling, magical dust. The Big Dipper, the only constellation Becca knew, was lost in the multitude that shone there.
For another, some of the stars darted about. Becca saw them zip, dazzle and disappear. Twice, yellow fire fell out of the sky, leaving a trail of sparks that glowed, then faded almost instantly.
“What are they doing?” she asked, but nobody heard her, or even seemed to notice the stars.
Instead Ardeth said, “Here come Kathy and Sue. It’s time to go.”
One by one, they let their towels drop to the beach.
Holding the hands of Mollie and Ardeth, Becca waded into the black water in a company of girls.
There was no turning back, even when the night water shrank her skin. The shapes of Kathy and Sue, Frances, Marion and the others gleamed like a pale grove about her. The only sound was of water disturbed by arms and legs, water that carried broken reflections of stars.
“Do they fall into the water?” Becca asked, for in the darkness she could see the sparkle of a thousand stars where she walked. It was as if the reflections had sunk, or the stars that had fallen before had somehow started a new life underwater.
“Do what fall in the water?” Ardeth asked.
“The stars. There are stars all over my legs.”
Becca stopped walking.
“Well, you can’t see them now,” she said, confused. “Where did they go?”
She walked and lights prickled in the sea. A sweep of glitter billowed in her wake.
“Wow!” Ardeth exclaimed quietly. “Look, you guys, there’s tons of it!”
“Tons of what?”
“Phosphorescence!” Ardeth said. “Luminescence!”
“What?”
“Little plants and things that light up,” Ardeth said.
“Seafire,” Mollie muttered. “Sealight! That’s what some people call it. It’s a natural wonder.”
One by one, the gleaming girls sank into the sea, and Becca did, too, staying close to Ardeth. Sarah and Frances squeaked at the cold as they went. The others just sighed and started to swim.
“I’ve never seen so much,” Ardeth whispered.
It was as though they were clothed in light. When Becca lifted her arm, glitter dripped from it. She saw stars in Ardeth’s wet hair and even on her teeth. The girls around her twinkled and waved glowing arms like angels’ wings.
“Heavenly bodies!” Mollie said. “We’re like stars!”
A school of fish flashed away like fireworks, leaving trails of light that winked and faded, just like the ones Becca could see even now up in the Milky Way.
“Is this falling stars, too?” she asked. “Do falling stars happen in the sea?”
“Holy cow!” Ardeth said. “No, it’s — look up, you guys, look up!”
And each one of the starry girls lifted her face and saw what Becca was already seeing — a shower of meteors flashing in the August night.
* * *
Becca slept in the next morning, but still, she woke up before Mollie and Ardeth.
“Goodness me,” Gran grumbled. “I don’t know where all these dirty cocoa cups came from. Someone used my whole collection of mugs! And all these wet towels, and there’s not a bathing suit to be seen! How did that happen, I wonder?”
But Becca could tell Gran was smiling, really.
That was when the phone rang.
“Becca!” said Dad. “Darling Becca. Your sister is here!”
9. Mothers and Pups
A sister! thought Becca. What would that be like? Mollie and Ardeth had each other, but they were twins, which was special somehow. Alicia and Lucy were different ages, but they were still close enough to have adventures together. It was like they were friends, even if they argued sometimes. But Becca thought a baby sister, one who was newborn, wouldn’t be quite like that. Not quite a friend — more like a pet.
And even though Mollie and Ardeth did their very best to describe sisterhood to her, Becca felt she had no idea.
“Sometimes it’s grotty and sometimes it’s great,” Mollie said.
“I don’t know,” Ardeth said. “I’m so used to having a sister I can’t really say. I wish Mollie wouldn’t wreck my clothes all the time though.”
“I don’t wreck your clothes!” protested Mollie. “Those shorts were already torn. And it’s not my fault Frances spilled cocoa all over them!”
“Oh, sure,” Ardeth replied. “Anyway, I’m sorry we have to go back to work, Becca. It’d be so much better to be here to meet our new cousin than trying to stop a bunch of eight-year-olds from drowning each other at Paradise Ridge Camp.”
“Or, as we like to call it,” Mollie said, “the Heights of He — ”
“I’m sorry we’ve been such slugs,” Ardeth said quickly. She gave Becca a big hug. “But that was a superb night swim.”
She and Mollie went off to meet Kay, who was giving them a lift on the early ferry. Becca and Gran were left standing on the deck in their bathing suits, ready for a morning swim.
“People are always leaving,” Becca said.
“And coming,” Gran reminded her.
She took Becca into the sea.
“Practice the crawl,” Gran suggested. “You need to spend more time with your face in the water.”
Waves reached for Becca.
“When will they get here?” she asked. The sea pulled at the sand underfoot.
“Not until dinnertime,” Gran said.
Today Mum and Dad were coming. And her new sister. She could hardly wait.
“Come on!” Gran marched into the water.
“It’s kind of wavy!” Becca said. The waves pushed at her legs. Sea froth nudged her.
“It’s not bad,” Gran said, bobbing nearby. “It’s better when you’re deeper.”
What Gran said was true. Becca paddled through breaking waves, head high, until she too bobbed up and down.
“You don’t put your face in,” Becca said.
Gran laughed.
“Watch out or the sea will do it for you,” she said.
And at that moment, a rough-and-tumble wave poured over Becca and went on its way chuckling.
“It tickles,” Becca complained.
“Look out!” cried Gran, but before Becca could look the next wave rumbled her, and the next.
Inside the wave it was green, and bubbles were sparks in the sun. For the next wave, Becca took a great breath and pushed her face into the tickliest part, just where water curled to meet her. Then she turned and rocketed toward the shore, pushed by the sea.
She didn’t hear Gran until she was back standing on the sandstone.
“What’s that following you?” asked Gran, her voice high with surprise.
A silver creature paddled there, right at Becca’s feet. It swam toward Becca and she jumped. It turned and swam into the shallows. It heaved about with the sea’s wash, almost lost in the colors of barnacles, rockweed, water and stone.
“It’s a seal! It’s a baby — ”
The seal pup lifted its face. It gazed at Becca with dark, dark eyes, whiskers sparkling.
“Oh, it is so cute,” she breathed.
“Don’t touch it!” Gran warned her.
Becca knew. If you touch a seal baby, its mother won’t take it back. Last summer tourists who hadn’t known about seal mothers had fed a baby seal and touched it, and its mother had abandoned it. Someone had had to come and take it away.
Becca stepped back.
The baby seal was tired. The waves kept on washing, washing, and it couldn’t rest. At last it pulled itself right out of the water. It lay on the beach and looked at Becca.
“You see what happens when you swim underwater,” said Gran seriously. “The seals think you’re one of them.”
Becca looked at the baby seal, and at the other people and their dogs wandering about far down the beach.
“I’ll have to babysit,” she said.
“What?” Gran asked.
“What if people don’t know and they try to touch it? Then its mum won’t take it back. I’ll have to babysit it.”
She sat on a lump of stone. The seal pup flopped toward her and she pulled up her feet.
“Will you bring me my breakfast?” she asked.
Gran brought her granola and blueberries and the seal went to sleep.
* * *
“Mum wouldn’t let me sit out here without my hat,” Becca said to Gran when she came back to collect the breakfast things.
“You need more than a hat,” Gran said.
She came back with Becca’s hat and an umbrella with a broken spoke.
“What about you?” Becca asked from under the shade. She twirled the umbrella like a parasol.
“I can’t stay,” Gran said. “I have a lot of work today, getting ready for our next visitors and cleaning up after our last ones. Will you be all right?”
“Of course!”
Becca watched. The sun rose in its arc, the tide ebbed, and the seal slept. Becca studied its silver skin, stippled with marks like shadow. She saw the creamy fur of its tummy — almost yellow — and its tail hanging over the back flippers. It looked like a dog.
But it woke up and mewed like a cat, and looked up at Becca.
Becca wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t speak seal language, but she thought she understood well enough. It missed its mum.
“Your mum’s just out fishing,” she assured it. “She’ll be back!”
The seal mewed again.
“Don’t cry,” Becca begged.
The seal pushed itself up on its flippers and slid toward her.
“Don’t come too close,” she warned, and drew her feet up. “Maybe you should have a little swim.”
The wind had died down, and the waves. Even under her parasol Becca was hot.