Flush - Carl Hiaasen [65]
Dad said, “We don’t need any money.”
Grandpa Bobby raised one silvery eyebrow. “Really? Since when did you win the lottery?”
“We’ll be fine,” Mom said warmly. “But thank you, Pop.”
He smiled. “I understand.”
“Well, I don’t,” my sister grumbled. She snatched her hand away from my grandfather. “Know what I think? I think you’re a big—”
“Abbey, knock it off,” I said. “He saved our lives.”
“Not quite,” said Grandpa Bobby. “Some private plane spotted your dinghy and called in the location. Your daddy had his VHF radio dialed to the Coast Guard’s channel—turns out we were only about three miles away, so we beat the Coasties no sweat. Your daddy’s the one who knew where to search. I went along for the ride is all.”
“No, I’m not talking about the rescue,” I said, “I’m talking about what happened on the docks—about Luno and the gun.”
My mother went stiff. “What gun?”
“The guy was going to waste us!” Abbey burst out. “I mean, we were history. Then Noah dived on top of me, and then he”—she nodded toward Grandpa Bobby—“he jumped the goon and took the pistol away.”
Immediately I was sorry that I’d brought it up. My mom’s face had gone white.
“He tried to kill you?” She looked at Grandpa Bobby. “Is that true? He tried to kill the children?”
“Donna, it was a flare gun. He probably wanted to scare the you-know-what out of ‘em,” my grandfather said.
“Just a flare gun?” Abbey sounded disappointed.
“It’s still bad,” Dad said angrily. “He could’ve set the dinghy on fire. Or your clothes.”
Grandpa Bobby told all of us to calm down. “The main thing is, nobody got hurt except for Baldy. Now, I believe it’s Noah’s turn to tell us his story. You ready, champ?”
“I guess.”
My sister pretended to hold her nose. “Don’t leave out the part about the seagull,” she said.
I didn’t leave out anything, even the stuff that made me look the opposite of brilliant. Nobody interrupted with questions. They just sat there and listened.
When I was finished, Dad clicked his teeth and said, “You crashed into a manatee?”
Then Mom said, “Who’s this Shelly person?”
Then Abbey said, “The Mermaids’ bathroom? You perv!”
Then Grandpa Bobby stood up and took the chain from around his neck. He placed it in my hand and said, “You earned it, Noah.”
The gold coin on the end of that chain was heavier than any coin I’d ever held. I couldn’t believe he was giving it to me.
“Once belonged to the queen of Spain,” he said, “about four hundred years ago.”
“Where’d you get it?” Dad asked.
“Won it in a dice game. Or maybe it was poker.” Grandpa Bobby shrugged as if he honestly couldn’t remember. “Come on, troops, let’s go for a ride.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“Thunder Beach,” he said. “Where else?”
EIGHTEEN
The food coloring didn’t show up as brightly in the sea as it did in the store bottles, but you could definitely see it. As Abbey and I had hoped, the current and the wind were in our favor, transporting the dye down the shoreline in a shiny stream from Dusty Muleman’s basin.
Dad and Grandpa Bobby stood together on Thunder Beach, admiring the telltale trail of fuchsia.
“I’m impressed,” my father said. “This was your idea, Noah?”
“Abbey’s, too,” I said.
“All I did was pick out the color,” she said.
“That’s not true. We were fifty-fifty partners the whole way.”
My grandfather slapped a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Paine, you and Donna really lucked out with these youngsters. They’re true champs, both of ‘em.”
“Most of the time,” Dad said, shooting us a sideways glance.
“You gotta admit,” said Grandpa Bobby, “this is a whole lot neater than sinkin’ the man’s boat.”
“Yeah, Pop, thanks for bringing that up.”
Mom kept staring at the purplish slick in the shallows. Even though she was wearing sunglasses, we could tell she was upset. At first I thought she was mad at Abbey and me, but it turned out that she wasn’t.