Escaping the Giant Wave by Peg Kehret

waves destroyed it?
    What had happened to Norm and Josie?
    My mind overflowed with questions, but I didn’t know how to find any of the answers.

11
    Each minute seemed like an hour.
    We sat on the fallen tree, listening for another giant wave. I kept the flashlight off, saving the batteries in case we needed to see.
    My mind was as weary as my body. The fire, the fear of a tsunami, and my worry about Mom and Dad had drained me of energy as much as climbing the hill and running through the woods had.
    Tired as I was, I worried that we shouldn’t stay where we were; we ought to keep going. When we first got to the top of the hill, we should have kept running rather than sitting on the bench. That decision had probably been fatal for Norm and Josie. Now we were sitting again instead of running farther inland. Was I making the same mistake twice?
    With so many trees down, the next wave would have less resistance. It might travel faster and farther. I fretted and stewed over the possibility, but I didn’t move. BeeBee and I were exhausted. If a bigger wave came now we wouldn’t be able to outrun it anyway.
    I had done my best to save us. Now I sat in the dark, and waited.
    The only sound was Pansy’s gentle snoring.
    BeeBee’s head kept drooping down, then jerking back up, the way it does when she falls asleep in the car.
    â€œLet’s sit on the ground,” I said, “and lean back against the tree.”
    We sat in the damp sand.
    â€œMy clothes are getting dirty,” BeeBee said, “and my shoes are all wet. Mom won’t like that.”
    â€œIt’s okay. Mom will be so glad to see us, she won’t care how dirty we are.”
    â€œI wonder if Daren drowned,” BeeBee said.
    â€œHe should have come with us.”
    â€œI’m glad he didn’t.”
    The anger in her voice surprised me.
    â€œI didn’t tell Mom and Dad the truth about Daren,” BeeBee went on.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œHe hits me. At school he sneaks up behind me during recess and pushes me. Sometimes he pokes me with a pencil, and if I cry, he calls me a baby.”
    Outrage exploded inside me. I was far more furious at Daren for bullying BeeBee than I had ever been over getting hit myself. I wondered if Daren had picked on BeeBee because she was my sister. That possibility made me feel sick.
    â€œI never told on him because I was scared he’d do something worse to get even.”
    Remorse settled on me like a quilt; I felt its weight on my shoulders.
    â€œI know this is a terrible thing to say,” BeeBee continued, “but if Daren doesn’t come back, I won’t miss him.”
    I wouldn’t miss him either, but I hoped he was alive. If I never saw Daren again I would always regret letting him get away with hassling me for so long. I should have taken a stand with Daren years ago. If I hadn’t wanted to confront him myself, I should have talked to a teacher or my parents about the problem.
    I had always been afraid to tell him off, for the same reason BeeBee hadn’t told a teacher. I feared Daren would get angry and beat up on me. Now I saw that there are worse things in this life than getting thrashed, and one of them is feeling shame for not having the courage to do what’s right.
    I wished with all my heart that I had stood up to Daren when he wrecked my sea picture. With my parents in shouting distance, it had been the perfect chance to tell him to knock it off, but I hadn’t done it. Now I might never be able to, and I would always regret acting like a coward.
    I’m not a coward, I thought. I saved us from the fire, and so far we’ve survived the tsunami because of me. Daren’s the one who panicked on the hotel stairs, not me.
    Why did I ever let him bully me? If I had stopped him years ago when his bullying first began, he might never have picked on BeeBee at all.
    â€œIf Daren escapes from the tsunami,” I vowed,