rock.
“Come on, fellas,” Ira says. “Knock it off!”
The boys roll back and forth on the ground, kicking and grunting and throwing wild punches at each other.
What is it with boys and fighting? I’m amazed any of them get to be grown-ups the way they’re always going at it.
I turn to Ira. “If they kill each other, I get their share of the treasure.”
Pork Chop has Beans half-pinned against the ground, with one arm wrapped around Beans’s neck.Beans’s face is turning bright red when Kermit dives into the mess.
“Get off my brother!” he shouts, and leaps on Pork Chop, and then the three of them are rolling around.
Of course, Ira has to get in on the action, too, although I’m not sure whose side he’s on. I just sit there and watch them. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Hey, look!” I call out. “A boat!”
The boys stop fighting instantly.
“Where?” Pork Chop asks. It looks like someone got in a good punch to his right eye. “Where?”
“It was there just a minute ago,” I say.
Beans wipes a trickle of blood from his nose and gives me a dark look. “There’s no boat! You lied to make us stop fighting.”
“You got me,” I say, looking skyward. “I don’t know
what
I was thinking.”
Pork Chop and Beans aren’t speaking to each other. They sit on opposite sides of the shore, brooding. They’re acting like sweethearts who had a falling-out.
“They should just kiss and make up already.” I look at Kermit. “They ever scrap this bad before?”
He shakes his head. “They’ve been best pals since they were in diapers.”
It rains on and off as we watch for passing ships. The waves are kicking up, foam frothing. Ira, Kermit, and I take turns playing checkers using gold coins and shells.
“I’m starving,” Kermit says.
I know how he feels. I’ve never been this hungry before. Now I know why people go crazy, because all I can think about is food. I picture the fancy ladies’ lunches Mama would make: cheese soufflé, potato salad, buttered nut bread, and her famous caramel custard.
“When we get back, the first thing I’m gonna eat is ice cream,” Kermit says.
“What flavor?” I ask.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Sugar apple.”
“Me too,” I say, and I can practically taste it. “You think anyone’s looking for us?”
“Probably the whole town by now,” Ira says.
Kermit frowns. “I’m not sure I want to be found. Ma’s gonna tan our bungys good. We’re not going to be able to sit for a week.”
“Hey, Ira. Anyone ever tell you that you look like Little Orphan Annie?” I ask him.
“I got eyes in my head. She’s just got circles,” he says, looking past me at the horizon.
“You see a boat?”
“Those low clouds. And the sea foam.”
“What about them?”
“Any Conch kid knows what they mean.”
“Haven’t you figured out I’m not from around here?”
“A storm,” Ira says. “A big one.”
The sky grows dark, and the wind picks up. The rain begins to fall harder, so we take shelter in the shack. Well, those of us who have sense, anyway. Pork Chop and Beans won’t come into the shack because they don’t want to be near each other.
Raindrops pelt the flimsy shack like spitballs. The storm is scarier than anything I’ve ever been in before. I keep waiting for the shack to blow away—and us with it.
“I guess Nana Philly wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought, keeping those shutters up in case of a storm,” Kermit says.
“She’s got more sense than Pork Chop and Beans,” I say.
“They’re just stubborn,” Ira says.
“They’re just dumb,” I say.
I can’t stop thinking about Ira’s brother, Eggy. Dumb kids get hurt. And these are two of the dumbest boys I’ve ever met in my entire life.
“I don’t want to spend all this pirate gold buying a headstone,” I say.
“I’m not going out there!” Kermit says. “I got a weak heart.”
“I’ll go,” Ira offers.
Before Ira can even stand up, the door slams
“Come on, fellas,” Ira says. “Knock it off!”
The boys roll back and forth on the ground, kicking and grunting and throwing wild punches at each other.
What is it with boys and fighting? I’m amazed any of them get to be grown-ups the way they’re always going at it.
I turn to Ira. “If they kill each other, I get their share of the treasure.”
Pork Chop has Beans half-pinned against the ground, with one arm wrapped around Beans’s neck.Beans’s face is turning bright red when Kermit dives into the mess.
“Get off my brother!” he shouts, and leaps on Pork Chop, and then the three of them are rolling around.
Of course, Ira has to get in on the action, too, although I’m not sure whose side he’s on. I just sit there and watch them. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Hey, look!” I call out. “A boat!”
The boys stop fighting instantly.
“Where?” Pork Chop asks. It looks like someone got in a good punch to his right eye. “Where?”
“It was there just a minute ago,” I say.
Beans wipes a trickle of blood from his nose and gives me a dark look. “There’s no boat! You lied to make us stop fighting.”
“You got me,” I say, looking skyward. “I don’t know
what
I was thinking.”
Pork Chop and Beans aren’t speaking to each other. They sit on opposite sides of the shore, brooding. They’re acting like sweethearts who had a falling-out.
“They should just kiss and make up already.” I look at Kermit. “They ever scrap this bad before?”
He shakes his head. “They’ve been best pals since they were in diapers.”
It rains on and off as we watch for passing ships. The waves are kicking up, foam frothing. Ira, Kermit, and I take turns playing checkers using gold coins and shells.
“I’m starving,” Kermit says.
I know how he feels. I’ve never been this hungry before. Now I know why people go crazy, because all I can think about is food. I picture the fancy ladies’ lunches Mama would make: cheese soufflé, potato salad, buttered nut bread, and her famous caramel custard.
“When we get back, the first thing I’m gonna eat is ice cream,” Kermit says.
“What flavor?” I ask.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Sugar apple.”
“Me too,” I say, and I can practically taste it. “You think anyone’s looking for us?”
“Probably the whole town by now,” Ira says.
Kermit frowns. “I’m not sure I want to be found. Ma’s gonna tan our bungys good. We’re not going to be able to sit for a week.”
“Hey, Ira. Anyone ever tell you that you look like Little Orphan Annie?” I ask him.
“I got eyes in my head. She’s just got circles,” he says, looking past me at the horizon.
“You see a boat?”
“Those low clouds. And the sea foam.”
“What about them?”
“Any Conch kid knows what they mean.”
“Haven’t you figured out I’m not from around here?”
“A storm,” Ira says. “A big one.”
The sky grows dark, and the wind picks up. The rain begins to fall harder, so we take shelter in the shack. Well, those of us who have sense, anyway. Pork Chop and Beans won’t come into the shack because they don’t want to be near each other.
Raindrops pelt the flimsy shack like spitballs. The storm is scarier than anything I’ve ever been in before. I keep waiting for the shack to blow away—and us with it.
“I guess Nana Philly wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought, keeping those shutters up in case of a storm,” Kermit says.
“She’s got more sense than Pork Chop and Beans,” I say.
“They’re just stubborn,” Ira says.
“They’re just dumb,” I say.
I can’t stop thinking about Ira’s brother, Eggy. Dumb kids get hurt. And these are two of the dumbest boys I’ve ever met in my entire life.
“I don’t want to spend all this pirate gold buying a headstone,” I say.
“I’m not going out there!” Kermit says. “I got a weak heart.”
“I’ll go,” Ira offers.
Before Ira can even stand up, the door slams
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