The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [41]
Mom paused for a moment, then flew at him, bashing her fists against his chest. “All I can see is a beast. A despicable worm!” she screamed.
Mr. Beeston backed away from her. As she went for him, Mom tripped and nearly fell flat on her face. She stopped herself by clutching a rope tied onto the mast. The rope ripped loose in her hand, tearing the canvas that held the boom in place. All three of us watched as the boom drifted away from us and the sail flapped over the water even more uselessly than before.
We’d never get anywhere now.
I tried to hold the tiller steady as the boat lurched again. The waves were getting choppier, throwing us all over the deck. “We need to do something,” I said, my voice quivering.
“I’ll fix it,” Mr. Beeston said, his words slow and deliberate, his eyes cold and determined. Then he turned and walked along the side of the boat to the door, holding the railing as the boat rocked.
“Mom, what are we going to do?” I asked as the waves rolled us from side to side again. Mom’s steely eyes followed Mr. Beeston down the boat.
“Forget him,” I said. “We need to think of something or we’ll never get home again — never mind seeing Jake.”
“Oh, Emily, do you really think we’re going to find —”
“I know where he is,” I said. “We can do it. We’re nearly there!”
Mom pulled her eyes away from Mr. Beeston. “Okay. Come on,” she said, snapping into action. She lifted the lid up off the bench, rummaged through hose pipes and foot pumps. “Put this on.” She passed me a life jacket that was much too small for me.
“Mom. I don’t need one.”
“Just to be on the safe —” She stopped and looked at my legs. “Oh, golly,” she said. “You mean you can . . . you’re a —”
“Didn’t you know?” I asked. “Didn’t you ever suspect?”
She shook her head sadly. “How could I have? Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind, but I . . .” A massive wave crashed over the side, washing away the rest of her sentence and drenching us both.
“Mom, I’m scared,” I yelped, wiping the spray off my face. “It’s too far even for me to swim back from here. We’ll never make it.”
As I spoke, the boat gave one more enormous lurch to the side. I fell to the floor, slipped across the deck. As I clutched the railing and tried to pull myself up again, I noticed a shape in the sea in front of us. A fin! That was it, then. The boat was going to capsize; we’d be eaten by sharks!
Mom has never been religious, and she’s always said it’s up to me to make my mind up when I was ready. I never was before. Until then.
Without even wondering what to say, I put my hands together, closed my eyes, and prayed.
My lips moved soundlessly behind my hands, scanning all the words I could summon up: half-remembered prayers from half-listened-to visits to friends’ churches. Why didn’t I pay more attention? I asked myself. When I got to, ‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,’ I couldn’t for the life of me think what came next.
“Emily!” Mom was tugging at my arm.
I shook her off. “I’m busy.”
Mom tugged again. “I think you should take a look.”
I opened my fingers wide enough to sneak a peek between them. It was hard to see anything, actually; the boat was careening up and down so much. I felt even more giddy and reached out for the railing. That was when I heard it — someone calling my name! I looked at Mom even though I knew it hadn’t been her. Holding the railing beside me, she pointed out to the mountainous waves with her free hand.
“Emily!” a familiar voice called again. Then a familiar head poked out above the waves, bobbing up and down in the swell. It was Shona! She grinned and waved at me.
“What are you doing here?” I shouted.
“It’s Monday. You didn’t show up at the rocks. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh, Shona, I’m so sorry.”
“When you didn’t come, I had a funny feeling you’d be doing something like this!”
“I’ve messed it all up,” I called, my throat clogged up. “We’re never going to get there now.”
“Don’t be too