was suspended from a loop of fishing line. The glass was the size of a small plum and shaped like a teardrop. Its sides were chiseled so that they broke the surface into many planes. Even in the dim light of the shed, the glass cast moving rainbows of light on the floor and walls as it turned.
“What is it?” Claire asked.
“A prism,” Geneviève replied.
“It’s beautiful,” Olivia said, her gaze following the splashes of light.
Geneviève held up the tag dangling from the fishing line. “Number 5,” she said.
“A flashlight, a paintbrush, a knitting needle, a prism, and a key. What on earth was Grandpa trying to tell us?” Alex said.
No one had an answer. In silence, they watched the beam of light flash and turn, flash and turn.
~THIRTEEN~
A STAKE THROUGH THE HEART
randma got dressed. She ate a whole muffin and drank a whole pot of tea – at the kitchen table. The next day, she put on her apron and made French toast for breakfast – her famous French toast with a dash of nutmeg, a dusting of icing sugar, and fresh sliced strawberries. The day after that, she went into the studio.
When she came out with blue spots in her hair, the rest of the family high-fived each other. “Grandma’s back!” they cheered.
A couple of days after the visit to Hugh, Sébastien sat at Grandpa’s desk, looking at the two reports he’d stolen from the Tantalus Mining office. Both were full of fancy looking graphs, glossy photos of scenic island spots, and phrases printed in large letters that said things like CUTTING-EDGE SCIENCE! and PRESERVING PRISTINE ISLAND BEAUTY .
He flipped through the economic report first, but found only the same information that Valerie London had presented at the open house: the graph showing all the money that would flow to the island, the list of jobs that would be created, the chart showing how valuable tantalum was.
He turned to the environmental report. Again, he sawexactly what had been in Wayne Cheng’s slides: the same reassuring information about the “temporary, sustainable, state-of-the-art containment system,” the same message about “how little impact the mine would have” on the island’s fish and wildlife. There didn’t seem to be anything new or controversial. So why had he, Sébastien, gotten the idea that the Tantalus folks hadn’t wanted people to see the report?
He remembered the slip of paper Ted had given him, and pulled it out of his pocket. It was a computer printout. It said:
The Ot t er I sl a n d tantalu m m ine i s g r e en! It w ill b e g r ea t f or th e e nvir o nmen t! Ful l s pe e d a he a d on t h is exc it i n g mi ne p r o je ct t hat pr om i se s fantast i c p rofits w h ile p rot e cting f ish, bi rd s , and w il d life!
That was all. Why, he wondered, would these sentences be written on a slip of paper? Could they have been from an early draft of the report? He flipped back through the booklet. He didn’t find that exact passage anywhere, though bits of it – “great for the environment,” “exciting mine project,” “fantastic profits,” “protecting fish, birds, and wildlife” – appeared on different pages.
Sébastien looked at the paper more carefully and noticed that it was printed in a mix of regular and bold letters. That was odd. Why would it be like that?
He went downstairs to find Olivia. She was sitting on the deck floor, sketchpad resting on her knees, drawing Claire’s bike, which lay on its side on the sand. Seb stood silently and watched as her eyes flicked up, down, up, down, her pencil constantly moving. It was as if her eye and hand wereconnected, two parts of the same limb. He peered over her shoulder. Olivia was shadowing the edge of the bike tire, making it look as though the bike had just been thrown down and the tire was still spinning. Amazing.
“Liv?”
“Yeah?” Eyes still on the bike.
“Would you look at something?” When she nodded, he handed her the slip of paper. “Why is some of this
“What is it?” Claire asked.
“A prism,” Geneviève replied.
“It’s beautiful,” Olivia said, her gaze following the splashes of light.
Geneviève held up the tag dangling from the fishing line. “Number 5,” she said.
“A flashlight, a paintbrush, a knitting needle, a prism, and a key. What on earth was Grandpa trying to tell us?” Alex said.
No one had an answer. In silence, they watched the beam of light flash and turn, flash and turn.
~THIRTEEN~
A STAKE THROUGH THE HEART
randma got dressed. She ate a whole muffin and drank a whole pot of tea – at the kitchen table. The next day, she put on her apron and made French toast for breakfast – her famous French toast with a dash of nutmeg, a dusting of icing sugar, and fresh sliced strawberries. The day after that, she went into the studio.
When she came out with blue spots in her hair, the rest of the family high-fived each other. “Grandma’s back!” they cheered.
A couple of days after the visit to Hugh, Sébastien sat at Grandpa’s desk, looking at the two reports he’d stolen from the Tantalus Mining office. Both were full of fancy looking graphs, glossy photos of scenic island spots, and phrases printed in large letters that said things like CUTTING-EDGE SCIENCE! and PRESERVING PRISTINE ISLAND BEAUTY .
He flipped through the economic report first, but found only the same information that Valerie London had presented at the open house: the graph showing all the money that would flow to the island, the list of jobs that would be created, the chart showing how valuable tantalum was.
He turned to the environmental report. Again, he sawexactly what had been in Wayne Cheng’s slides: the same reassuring information about the “temporary, sustainable, state-of-the-art containment system,” the same message about “how little impact the mine would have” on the island’s fish and wildlife. There didn’t seem to be anything new or controversial. So why had he, Sébastien, gotten the idea that the Tantalus folks hadn’t wanted people to see the report?
He remembered the slip of paper Ted had given him, and pulled it out of his pocket. It was a computer printout. It said:
The Ot t er I sl a n d tantalu m m ine i s g r e en! It w ill b e g r ea t f or th e e nvir o nmen t! Ful l s pe e d a he a d on t h is exc it i n g mi ne p r o je ct t hat pr om i se s fantast i c p rofits w h ile p rot e cting f ish, bi rd s , and w il d life!
That was all. Why, he wondered, would these sentences be written on a slip of paper? Could they have been from an early draft of the report? He flipped back through the booklet. He didn’t find that exact passage anywhere, though bits of it – “great for the environment,” “exciting mine project,” “fantastic profits,” “protecting fish, birds, and wildlife” – appeared on different pages.
Sébastien looked at the paper more carefully and noticed that it was printed in a mix of regular and bold letters. That was odd. Why would it be like that?
He went downstairs to find Olivia. She was sitting on the deck floor, sketchpad resting on her knees, drawing Claire’s bike, which lay on its side on the sand. Seb stood silently and watched as her eyes flicked up, down, up, down, her pencil constantly moving. It was as if her eye and hand wereconnected, two parts of the same limb. He peered over her shoulder. Olivia was shadowing the edge of the bike tire, making it look as though the bike had just been thrown down and the tire was still spinning. Amazing.
“Liv?”
“Yeah?” Eyes still on the bike.
“Would you look at something?” When she nodded, he handed her the slip of paper. “Why is some of this
Similar Books
