“No,” Sam says. “That’s a waste of gas. If you’re going to do it, go tomorrow. Take the whole day. Take supplies, do what needs to be done. Get some fruit, then drop the raft off.”
“Or we could take the tender and all go,” Dante says.
Calvin’s head jerks to the right. I’m not the only one who picks up on it—Haley does too. “What, you don’t think I can help you bury the villagers?”
“You’re right. This needs to be done. We’ve gone this long without doing it, and it’s time,” Sam says.
Calvin nods. “Okay, then we go tomorrow. But not all of us. Sam’s right. We shouldn’t be using all of our gas at once. We’ll get up early, drop the raft off, take the WaveRunner around the side of the island, and do what we need to do. And then, as time allows, we can investigate the cave some more and what’s under it.”
The sun rose on a clear blue sky half an hour ago. There’s a tinge of pink left on the horizon. Sam was right—yesterday would have been a rush. Today’s tides are perfect. We’ll drop the raft off at the cave, go around the other side of the island, and make it home before dark.
The new raft smacks into the low surf, splashing up a wave that hits me in the face.
“You’re sure about this?” Haley crosses her arms over her chest. “Of course you are.”
“We’ll know if the thing is going to hold together before we get to the bluff. I can swim back. And yes, before you ask, I’m going to wear a life jacket.” Even though the thing gets in the way of my stroking, especially with my right shoulder. But if the raft flips and knocks me unconscious? Yeah, it’s a good idea.
“Or the three of us can ride on the seat?”
“This will be a workout on the way over. I’ll do that on the way back.” The plan was to fill our largest bag with coconuts and more durable fruit and trail it behind us.
“More mangos,” Dante yells as the WaveRunner pulls us out through the surf. “And make sure Sassy comes back in one piece.”
I’m sure that has Sam scowling. But I’m not looking back. I’m holding on to the ropes hanging from the corners of the raft. Haley sits between Calvin’s legs. But he’s the one driving. There’s no room for her to hold on behind him because he’s wearing a huge pack. A pack that will turn into a small floating fruit storage on the way back.
Calvin takes it easy getting out past the breakers. But I’m regretting my decision. We should have crowded together on the seat. I’m being tossed about. But on the other side of the breakers, the sideways crashing of the waves against the raft is more invigorating than terrifying. I whoop as we pass the bluffs.
Calvin slows near the cave. It being low tide, he pulls right in. It’s an easy turn around. Haley slides into the water and helps me untie the raft.
“I know we’re doing the crate later, but I’m going down for a quick look,” I say.
Calvin’s silent.
“I’ll come with you.” Haley takes off her thin backpack and life jacket, hands them to Calvin, and dives in. She’s a few strokes ahead of me when we get to the box.
They’re right, it’s old. And it’s been down here a while. Not that I’m an expert—Calvin’s the archeologist—but it’s been at least ten years, maybe longer. There are long strands of seaweed tangled in the rope, and there are a ton of things growing on it. I run my fingers over it, and it doesn’t feel like rope, more like crystals and mineral deposits. Holding on to the box, I make my way around it.
Haley brushes my shoulder with her fingers and signals she’s going up. I’ve got enough air left to make my way around the whole box. I pull on the rope, but it doesn’t budge. The lid’s not going to come off without the rope gone. I head up to the surface and come up on the side of the raft. I want to look at the box again.
“We’ve got a plan,” Calvin says. “Stick to the plan for the day.”
“Fine. Your raft is going to work well whenever we figure out what’s in the box,” Haley says.
“That’s yet to be seen,” I say, treading water next to the WaveRunner while Haley situates herself behind Calvin.
“Ready?” Haley reaches down and gives me a hand up behind her. I shake off the water and take the smaller pack from her, slinging it on my back.
I have one hand around her, and the other clutches the seat.
Calvin turns us around. With the raft tied up at the cave, Calvin’s pack—converted into a fruit float for the return trip—bobs in the water behind us. The fruit float has been so useful to bring back a decent amount of food. We’ve been making runs with the WaveRunner every few weeks, for the last two months, to get fruit. But usually only two people go.
“Chicken Beach,” Haley shouts into the wind.
“Yes,” Calvin says as we race by.
But Haley hasn’t been out here, not yet. I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Hold on. When we round the peninsula, the current changes and the waves really kick up.”
She flattens herself against Calvin.
