looked around to make sure no one had seen my not-very-elegant maneuver.
Holding on to the rails, I stepped carefully along the deck to the back of the boat. Maybe she’d left a message for me, suggesting we meet somewhere else.
I opened the locker and pulled out her diary. There
was
a note from her.
Dear Mia,
I am SO disappointed. Father wouldn’t bring me. He said that it’s too rough to take me. I didn’t think it was so bad, and we had an argument.
I never argue with my father, so you can imagine how upset I am. Not just because of that, but also because I wanted to meet up with you SO much. You are the nearest I’ve come to having a friend on truly the same wavelength, and now I’m not even going to meet you.
I am so upset. I cried after I argued with Father. He didn’t see. He was too busy preparing the boat. Mother didn’t want him to go out at all, but he said he has to go today. These big swells are the best for catching all sorts of rare varieties of fish that are normally beyond his reach. It’s days like this that could make us rich, he said.
He kissed the anchor pendant he always wears around his neck and said he’d be fine. Mom gave him the pendant when they were courting, and he never goes fishing without it.
Then he assured us both that he would be careful, and all would be well. Which of course made me ask again why I couldn’t go with him. But he wouldn’t relent.
He said if it had been likely to improve later, he might have said yes, but it’s due to worsen and he wasn’t going to put me at risk.
Which of course made Mother insist that he not go out, either. So then they argued, too. What a terrible, awful day. Father is about to go off on angry seas, in an angry mood, Mother is upstairs crying, and I’m missing out on something I’ve looked forward to so much. Not just the fair, but my chance to meet someone who I feel sure could be a wonderful friend.
I’ll slip the diary onto the boat as usual, and I hope you get it. I won’t receive your reply till Father comes home this afternoon. I can’t tell you how upset I am. I hope you aren’t angry with me. That would just make a terrible situation even worse.
Your friend,
Dee
I scanned her note twice, just to make sure I’d read it correctly. She wasn’t coming. I didn’t have
anything
to look forward to. The one nice thing about this week — the one possible thing that wasn’t clouded in misery and sadness — wasn’t happening.
I was too miserable to reply right away. I didn’t want to share how upset I was; it would only make Dee feel worse. I decided I’d come back and reply later when I didn’t feel quite so disappointed. The last thing she needed was a miserable note from me.
I left the diary on the boat and waded back under the archway. The tide was even higher now, and a wave hit me just as I was in the middle of the arch. The water went right over the top of my boots and soaked my feet and jeans.
And then it started raining.
Pulling on my hood, I hurried back to the beach. Head down, I squelched across the sand, trying to think of anything that wouldn’t make me feel like curling up in a ball and bursting into tears, when something ran into my ankle.
I shoved my hood back and looked down. It was Mitch! He ran yapping and jumping around my legs.
I bent down to pet him and he flopped straight over onto his back.
“Mitch, you know you’re drenched, don’t you?” I asked as I tickled his tummy.
Mitch rolled back onto his feet. His back was covered in sand; it was glued onto his fur like an extra layer.
“Hey, hi again!”
I looked up to see Peter coming toward me. “Hi,” I replied. “Wow. Nice coat.” I pretended to shade my eyes. He was wearing a bright-yellow waterproof coat, with a fluorescent white stripe across the middle and a “Porthaven Harbor” sticker on the pocket. It looked brand-new.
Peter beamed. “Dad got it for me yesterday. I love it. Almost slept in it last night.”
I
Holding on to the rails, I stepped carefully along the deck to the back of the boat. Maybe she’d left a message for me, suggesting we meet somewhere else.
I opened the locker and pulled out her diary. There
was
a note from her.
Dear Mia,
I am SO disappointed. Father wouldn’t bring me. He said that it’s too rough to take me. I didn’t think it was so bad, and we had an argument.
I never argue with my father, so you can imagine how upset I am. Not just because of that, but also because I wanted to meet up with you SO much. You are the nearest I’ve come to having a friend on truly the same wavelength, and now I’m not even going to meet you.
I am so upset. I cried after I argued with Father. He didn’t see. He was too busy preparing the boat. Mother didn’t want him to go out at all, but he said he has to go today. These big swells are the best for catching all sorts of rare varieties of fish that are normally beyond his reach. It’s days like this that could make us rich, he said.
He kissed the anchor pendant he always wears around his neck and said he’d be fine. Mom gave him the pendant when they were courting, and he never goes fishing without it.
Then he assured us both that he would be careful, and all would be well. Which of course made me ask again why I couldn’t go with him. But he wouldn’t relent.
He said if it had been likely to improve later, he might have said yes, but it’s due to worsen and he wasn’t going to put me at risk.
Which of course made Mother insist that he not go out, either. So then they argued, too. What a terrible, awful day. Father is about to go off on angry seas, in an angry mood, Mother is upstairs crying, and I’m missing out on something I’ve looked forward to so much. Not just the fair, but my chance to meet someone who I feel sure could be a wonderful friend.
I’ll slip the diary onto the boat as usual, and I hope you get it. I won’t receive your reply till Father comes home this afternoon. I can’t tell you how upset I am. I hope you aren’t angry with me. That would just make a terrible situation even worse.
Your friend,
Dee
I scanned her note twice, just to make sure I’d read it correctly. She wasn’t coming. I didn’t have
anything
to look forward to. The one nice thing about this week — the one possible thing that wasn’t clouded in misery and sadness — wasn’t happening.
I was too miserable to reply right away. I didn’t want to share how upset I was; it would only make Dee feel worse. I decided I’d come back and reply later when I didn’t feel quite so disappointed. The last thing she needed was a miserable note from me.
I left the diary on the boat and waded back under the archway. The tide was even higher now, and a wave hit me just as I was in the middle of the arch. The water went right over the top of my boots and soaked my feet and jeans.
And then it started raining.
Pulling on my hood, I hurried back to the beach. Head down, I squelched across the sand, trying to think of anything that wouldn’t make me feel like curling up in a ball and bursting into tears, when something ran into my ankle.
I shoved my hood back and looked down. It was Mitch! He ran yapping and jumping around my legs.
I bent down to pet him and he flopped straight over onto his back.
“Mitch, you know you’re drenched, don’t you?” I asked as I tickled his tummy.
Mitch rolled back onto his feet. His back was covered in sand; it was glued onto his fur like an extra layer.
“Hey, hi again!”
I looked up to see Peter coming toward me. “Hi,” I replied. “Wow. Nice coat.” I pretended to shade my eyes. He was wearing a bright-yellow waterproof coat, with a fluorescent white stripe across the middle and a “Porthaven Harbor” sticker on the pocket. It looked brand-new.
Peter beamed. “Dad got it for me yesterday. I love it. Almost slept in it last night.”
I
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