open and Beans is standing there, sopping wet.
“Beans!” Kermit says.
Beans doesn’t say anything; he just pulls the door shut behind him and sits down on the ground.
Water sprays through cracks in the walls and drips in from gaps in the roof. Nearby, a tree snaps.
“Your hand sure is gonna be sore,” I tell Beans.
“From what?”
“From writing
My best friend died in a storm because I was so stubborn
two hundred times.”
“Shut up,” Beans growls.
“Pork Chop’s still out in that,” I say.
“Serves him right,” Beans says.
“He could be dying.”
“He ain’t.”
“How do you know?”
Beans sighs loudly. “Because I passed him on the way in. He’s standing right outside the shack.”
I open the door and look out into the darkness. Sure enough, Pork Chop is huddled next to the shack.
“You coming in or what?” I ask.
He pushes past me into the shack without a word.
Inside, Pork Chop and Beans sit as far away from each other as they can. But this doesn’t last very long because a big wave rushes in and we’re forced to stand up and scoot back until we’re pressed tight against the wobbly wall. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not wearing shoes, because they’d be soaking wet.
“You think the water’s gonna come up any farther?” Ira asks, his voice shaking.
I feel something long and slimy slide over my ankle and go still. I look down to see what seems like a worm disappearing into the shadows. Only I know it isn’t a worm—because worms don’t have whiskers or little feet.
“There’s a rat in here,” I hiss.
“Rat?” Kermit bleats. “Rat?”
“It’s looking to stay high and dry, pal,” Beans says.
“They’re gonna eat us alive!” Kermit whimpers, and then he shrieks. “One just ran over my foot!”
There’s a horrible cracking sound as a piece of the roof is torn away.
“We’re all gonna die,” Pork Chop says in a dull voice.
“Aw, come on, pal,” Beans says awkwardly, but Pork Chop’s too far gone.
“We are! And it’s all my fault because I didn’t throw in the hook!” And then he starts to cry softly.
Pork Chop’s tears break the boys faster than any fistfight. They all start bawling.
Something washes over me and this time it’s not water: it’s
fear
. What good is all this gold if we’re dead? What if I never see Mama again? She doesn’t even know I’m stranded on a key with a bunch of dumb boys. I would give a million bucks just to see her blue eyes and hear her voice one last time. To hug her tight and tell her how much I love her.
The boys are crying, and I feel the fear rising in my throat like a dark tide. I try to push it down, but it bubbles up, it’s swamping me, and I do the only thing I can think of. I start singing that stupid Shirley Temple song.
On the good ship lollipop
,
It’s a sweet trip to a candy shop
Where bonbons play
On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay
.
After a few moments, Beans’s high, squeaky voice joins mine, and then Ira starts singing, Kermittoo, and finally Pork Chop. We sing our hearts out. We’re so good we should be in pictures; we should get a screen test with Warner Brothers. I can see our names in lights already.
The wind howls, but the Diaper Gang of Key West belts out a song as the angry storm washes everything away.
17
A Hollywood Ending
Little Orphan Annie and Terry Lee get into scrapes, but they always get rescued. Everything ends up okay in the end. But it turns out that real life’s not like the funny pages.
When morning comes, no one’s knocking down the door looking for us. It’s still raining on and off, and windy.
Trees have been blown over and the ocean water is cloudy, the bottom churned up from the storm. There’s debris everywhere and the key looks smaller, as if it’s been swallowed up by the ocean.
We sit in the shack, our stomachs growling. We’re past talking; there’s nothing to say. We all know it: nobody’s going to find us. We’re done for.
The
“Beans!” Kermit says.
Beans doesn’t say anything; he just pulls the door shut behind him and sits down on the ground.
Water sprays through cracks in the walls and drips in from gaps in the roof. Nearby, a tree snaps.
“Your hand sure is gonna be sore,” I tell Beans.
“From what?”
“From writing
My best friend died in a storm because I was so stubborn
two hundred times.”
“Shut up,” Beans growls.
“Pork Chop’s still out in that,” I say.
“Serves him right,” Beans says.
“He could be dying.”
“He ain’t.”
“How do you know?”
Beans sighs loudly. “Because I passed him on the way in. He’s standing right outside the shack.”
I open the door and look out into the darkness. Sure enough, Pork Chop is huddled next to the shack.
“You coming in or what?” I ask.
He pushes past me into the shack without a word.
Inside, Pork Chop and Beans sit as far away from each other as they can. But this doesn’t last very long because a big wave rushes in and we’re forced to stand up and scoot back until we’re pressed tight against the wobbly wall. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not wearing shoes, because they’d be soaking wet.
“You think the water’s gonna come up any farther?” Ira asks, his voice shaking.
I feel something long and slimy slide over my ankle and go still. I look down to see what seems like a worm disappearing into the shadows. Only I know it isn’t a worm—because worms don’t have whiskers or little feet.
“There’s a rat in here,” I hiss.
“Rat?” Kermit bleats. “Rat?”
“It’s looking to stay high and dry, pal,” Beans says.
“They’re gonna eat us alive!” Kermit whimpers, and then he shrieks. “One just ran over my foot!”
There’s a horrible cracking sound as a piece of the roof is torn away.
“We’re all gonna die,” Pork Chop says in a dull voice.
“Aw, come on, pal,” Beans says awkwardly, but Pork Chop’s too far gone.
“We are! And it’s all my fault because I didn’t throw in the hook!” And then he starts to cry softly.
Pork Chop’s tears break the boys faster than any fistfight. They all start bawling.
Something washes over me and this time it’s not water: it’s
fear
. What good is all this gold if we’re dead? What if I never see Mama again? She doesn’t even know I’m stranded on a key with a bunch of dumb boys. I would give a million bucks just to see her blue eyes and hear her voice one last time. To hug her tight and tell her how much I love her.
The boys are crying, and I feel the fear rising in my throat like a dark tide. I try to push it down, but it bubbles up, it’s swamping me, and I do the only thing I can think of. I start singing that stupid Shirley Temple song.
On the good ship lollipop
,
It’s a sweet trip to a candy shop
Where bonbons play
On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay
.
After a few moments, Beans’s high, squeaky voice joins mine, and then Ira starts singing, Kermittoo, and finally Pork Chop. We sing our hearts out. We’re so good we should be in pictures; we should get a screen test with Warner Brothers. I can see our names in lights already.
The wind howls, but the Diaper Gang of Key West belts out a song as the angry storm washes everything away.
17
A Hollywood Ending
Little Orphan Annie and Terry Lee get into scrapes, but they always get rescued. Everything ends up okay in the end. But it turns out that real life’s not like the funny pages.
When morning comes, no one’s knocking down the door looking for us. It’s still raining on and off, and windy.
Trees have been blown over and the ocean water is cloudy, the bottom churned up from the storm. There’s debris everywhere and the key looks smaller, as if it’s been swallowed up by the ocean.
We sit in the shack, our stomachs growling. We’re past talking; there’s nothing to say. We all know it: nobody’s going to find us. We’re done for.
The
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