Driftwood Read online

  In short order, Kiah found herself surrounded by people who wanted to know the secrets she held. She quickly learned that their smiles faded and they turned from her when she did not tell them what they wanted to know. Even so, she was determined to keep the secrets safe, and to share them only with the worthy, as she had been taught.

  But it was not very long until Kiah realized that many of her newfound friends were slipping away. She remembered how lonely life had been when she had spent so much time on her own. The thought of returning to a solitary lifestyle caused her sorrow. And then, Kiah had an idea.

  What if she gave answers without actually divulging the secrets that had been entrusted to her? Would it be so wrong to make up answers to satisfy the ears of those asking questions? In this way, she would continue to be surrounded by attention and friends.

  And so it went. Kiah gave advice and made up lavish stories. One day she might tell a farmer to plant his crops the next time he saw an echidna at an anthill. Another day she may offer a simple stone as a talisman, or tell a young woman to accept a suitor’s hand if a lone cloud graced the sky on the third day after his proposal.

  Kiah did not see that her advice was often wrong or that it sometimes caused harm. Rather, she became convinced that she had a special gift of wisdom and that the advice she dispensed had value. But those around her were beginning to grumble. They were questioning her words and asking each other if there was some mistake. The Keeper of Secrets seemed to be giving information that was not true. And before long, they understood. Kiah was entertaining herself at their expense—telling lies and giving worthless advice.

  Even so, they were cautious about voicing their suspicions. Toora had named Kiah as her successor, and Toora had been respected and true. In short order, they turned the tables on Kiah without her knowing it. They amused themselves by pretending to seek her knowledge, but they mocked her behind her back.

  And then came the day when one of the island’s most powerful men decided that he would build a new home, and the place that pleased him for this purpose was the very place where the great mountain ash known as The Cloud Tree stood.

  It was the man’s eldest son who sought Kiah’s advice on the matter. As he formed his question, Kiah was preparing an answer in her usual fashion, but in the last second, she saw that the light in his eyes was transparent. The importance of the moment made her heart pound. At last the time had come for her to share a real secret.

  “You must tell your father that he cannot build in that place,” she said solemnly. “The tree that stands above others is the tallest tree in the world. Someday, our island will be known near and wide for this wonder.”

  The young man thanked her for her words and went on his way. When he shared the story with his friends there was much laughing and merriment. The tallest tree in the world indeed! No one took the warning seriously. No one even considered that this time, Kiah’s words may be true.

  That is why the great tree was felled, and lives no more.

  And this limb alone, remains.

  As Theo finished speaking I glanced over at Ethan. I could see that he’d been drawn into the story but I also saw that he was determined not to believe it. He met my glance with a mocking smile forming on his lips. I hoped with all my might that he would keep his word and not say anything mean or rude.

  It was Theo who broke into those thoughts. He stood and put the piece of driftwood on his chair. “Boys, you’d be doing me a favour if you’d have a scratch-me-back. I’m going to be away for a bit and I’m afraid they’ll be ruined by the time I get back.

  “Are you going for your surgery?” I asked, excited.

  “If my nerves don’t give out,” he chuckled. “My daughter is coming soon, to take me to the hospital, and I’ll be spending a week or two at her home afterward. So how about those scratch-me-backs?”

  I said, “Sure,” and Ethan said, “Yes, please, Theo,” as if he was the most polite kid in the world. A few minutes later we were munching on thin, flat cookies that didn’t look like much but sure tasted great. I had three, to help Theo out, and Ethan gobbled down four.

  We’d just finished our snack when the crunch of gravel under a car’s tires in the driveway let us all know that Theo’s daughter had arrived. She came out to where we were sitting and told Theo that she was going to tidy up a bit and then they’d be on their way.

  “I’d best go in and make sure she doesn’t give the place a complete overhaul,” Theo said. “She’s a great one for organizing—I can hardly find anything after she’s done.”

  We got up to leave and I told Theo good luck and said I’d see him when he got back.

  “And I’ll see you, Adam,” he said. “It’ll be the first time.”

  “I’ll still be here, too,” Ethan said. He seemed a bit sulky for some reason.

  “I’ll be glad to have you both come visit again,” Theo said. “Oh, and before you go—there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you about this piece of driftwood.”

  He picked it up and held it while he spoke.

  “Tasmania was its first home, all right, but it wasn’t the last one. After it made its journey here to Canada, it found a new home. I’m not sure exactly where, but it lived among stones and flowers, and I believe that’s the place it was meant to be. So, if you boys wouldn’t mind obliging an old feller, I’d like you to take it there now.”

  With that, Theo passed the piece of wood over to Ethan, gave us a wave, and disappeared inside his house. Let me tell you, the look on Ethan’s face was something to see. There wasn’t so much as a trace of the smug expression he usually had on.

  Ethan never said a single word the whole way back. When we reached the bank by the house he’d taken the driftwood from, he scooted up the hill, walked across to the garden, and put it back in place without the slightest hesitation.

  I think he was waiting for me to say “I told you so,” or something. I might have been tempted if he hadn’t looked like he was in shock. And, I guess I should admit I was surprised myself.

  It wasn’t until we got to the field across from our cabins that Ethan spoke up.

  “There’s got to be an explanation,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s friends with the people who had it in their garden, and he recognized it.”

  “But he can’t see.”

  “Maybe he recognized it by feel,” Ethan said. “He probably goes around mauling everybody’s driftwood, since he likes it so much.” He didn’t even sound like he believed that himself. I guess it wasn’t impossible, but it sure didn’t seem likely to me.

  Ethan didn’t seem to want to talk about it any more. “I’m starved,” he said, even though he’d just eaten four of Theo’s scratch-me-backs.

  We headed across the road toward his cabin but before we got there we found his grandparents sitting at one of the community picnic tables. There was an assortment of things spread out on it and when she spied us, Ethan’s gram called out, “Over here boys!” like we might have just walked right past without noticing them.

  “I thought you two might be along,” she said as we sat down at the table. “So I brought out extras of everything.”

  “Boys get hungry,” added Gramps. He was buttering a biscuit from the day before.

  “Guess what I made to drink!” Gram said.

  “Lemonade,” Ethan said. He jabbed me with his elbow and jerked his head toward the glass pitcher that sat in the middle of the table. There were a bunch of lemons, cut in half and floating around in there. It would have been hard to get it wrong.

  “That’s right!” Gram said. “I know how much you like my fresh-squeezed lemonade. Your father was crazy about it too, when he was little.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone’s squeezing him fresh lemonade where he is now,” Gramps said.

  “Hey! There’s a guy near here who tells great stories about driftwood,” Ethan announced. “You can’t meet him for a while, though. He�
��s going to get an operation on his eyes.”

  Gram asked some questions about Theo as she dug out plastic cups and poured lemonade into them. She passed me mine first but when she reached by me to give Ethan his, her arm knocked my cup over. It ran through the spaces in the picnic table and soaked my pants and shoes.

  “Wouldn’t that just rot your socks!” Gram said. “I’m awfully sorry, Martin.”

  “No sense crying over spilled milk,” Gramps said. “Or lemonade—right boys?”

  “You just whip those wet duds off and I’ll take them back to the cabin and have them good as new in a jig,” Gram said.

  That’s when I said I really had to get home. I did too. I was sure there’d be a message for me by now and I was anxious to check.

  But there was nothing.

  Ethan was a lot of fun to hang around with, although sometimes his bossiness kind of got to me. I’d thought Joey was bossy, but he was nothing next to this guy. I mostly tried to ignore that part of him, though, because he wasn’t lying when he’d told me he liked excitement. We did a lot of spying over the next few weeks. It might sound boring when I explain what we did, but it really wasn’t.

  We figured out a bunch of places where we could watch a few houses at the same time, and then we’d lay low and wait for someone to come outside. Sometimes whoever it was would get in a car and drive off, which was useless to us. But lots of times they’d be doing things around their yards—taking care of gardens and lawns, playing with pets, washing cars, reading, sunbathing, puttering around in out-buildings—the list just went on and on.

  As soon as we had a “target” as Ethan insisted we call them, we’d inch closer, bit by bit. We’d crawl on our stomachs through long grass or sneak up behind trees. When we got close enough, we’d try to get them to look away from where we were hiding by tossing pebbles or small sticks in the opposite direction. Then we’d see if we could make a dash for cover and get even closer.

  We nearly always got caught. Well, not caught, but spotted. Then we’d turn and hightail it like a couple of scared rabbits, racing away and dropping out of sight. It was so much fun, which made it hard not to laugh out loud and give away our hiding spots—not that anyone ever actually came after us.

  Once in a while we managed to go undetected, even when we got really close to our target. When that happened, we’d stay still and watch for a few minutes. Unfortunately, no one ever did anything too interesting, so we’d end up slinking off and looking for something else to do.

  When we were just kicking around the shore, Ethan talked a lot about his folks. I could see why he liked excitement so much. His mom and dad did amazing things. They spent days in the deepest, darkest caves in the world, collecting specimens for their research. They climbed mountains and hiked across deserts where you’d see nothing but sand for weeks on end. They survived grave dangers in South American jungles. And Ethan had lost track of how many times they’d parachuted into the middle of nowhere.

  There seemed to be no end to the places they went or the dangers they encountered. But the main thing he talked about was how, in a few more years, he was going to start going along on the research trips.

  “Won’t you be scared?” I asked.

  “Me? Scared?” Ethan laughed good and hard about that, but I wasn’t totally convinced. I don’t know how a guy could have poisonous snakes slithering around his neck, or deadly spiders running all over his arms and legs, and not be scared. That was the kind of thing that happened to his parents all the time.

  “I feel sorry for you, Adam,” Ethan told me one day. “I mean, not to insult your mom—I guess her paintings are okay. And your dad, what does he do all day? Boring computer stuff. They’re not exactly getting you ready for a life of thrills.”

  I didn’t like that talk much, but it was hard to argue with what he was saying. My dad’s job was boring. As for Mom, ever since she’d had that conversation with the twins, there’d been a change in her. She was happier—humming and smiling, and more like her old self, and her paintings had gotten a lot better than just “okay.” Still, I know her work isn’t what you could call thrilling—not the way Ethan meant. So, I was a little embarrassed. It was hard not to be when I compared my parents with Ethan’s.

  It was tempting to point out that his grandparents weren’t exactly entertaining either. I stopped myself because they’d been real nice to me, except for Ethan’s Gram calling me Martin all the time. And anyway, it was worth putting up with Ethan’s bragging if it meant having someone to hang around with.

  We ate lunch with Ethan’s Gram and Gramps most days. My mom kept saying we should even things out a bit more but it was hard to get ahead of Gram when it came to meals. A couple of times, Mom walked over right after breakfast, to tell Gram she’d be happy to make lunch for us, only to find Gram had made a chowder or a pasta salad the night before.

  “They probably enjoy having the kids around, June,” Dad told her. “And it gives them something to do.”

  Something to do was never a problem for Gram as far as I could tell. She was always busy, cooking and knitting and sewing, and saying things like, “Land sakes, if I drop another stitch this sweater’s going to have two neck holes,” and “Wouldn’t that just frost your gizzard,” anytime she made a mistake. Gram made a lot of mistakes, and she had no trouble identifying the problem each time. It would be a faulty recipe, print that was too fine, instructions a Rhodes Scholar couldn’t follow—anything and everything except Gram.

  Gramps did the baking. Lots of it. He made so many breads and cookies and squares that Ethan suggested we could set up a baked goods stand and sell some. Gramps said he couldn’t go for that idea, and then he came up with a different plan. The next thing we knew, we were going around to the other cabins giving stuff away. “Share the wealth,” Gramps said. No one complained about that except Ethan.

  We explored the shore in both directions, looking for anything interesting. One day we found a great piece of driftwood tangled in some old weeds. After that, we checked every so often to see if Theo was back, but he must have been having a good time at his daughter’s place because his house was still closed up and quiet.

  All in all, everything went along smoothly for the first half of August. And then Ethan decided we were going to steal a boat.

  I’m not saying I wasn’t part of it. I was. Never mind that it took Ethan four days of nagging and persuading and calling me a girl. I could have kept right on saying “no” if I’d been a bit stronger. And if I’m telling the whole truth, you might as well know that there was a little part of me that wanted to do it. I guess you could say that I let myself be talked into it.

  “You’re looking at this whole thing all wrong,” Ethan said. “It’s not really stealing unless we’re going to keep it. Which we’re not.”

  “It’s stealing if you take it without asking,” I said.

  “Think of it this way: it’s just like that piece of driftwood we borrowed,” he said, conveniently forgetting that wasn’t quite accurate. “All we’re going to do is move the boat a little ways. When we’re done, we’ll put it back where it was. No one will even know it was touched.”

  I thought about that for a minute.

  “Besides, you can tell that nobody has used it for years,” Ethan added. “We could probably keep it and it wouldn’t even be missed.”

  “No way!” I said.

  “Okay, so we borrow it for a couple of hours. One time. What’s the big deal?”

  Bit by bit, I weakened, and the more I did, the stronger and more insistent Ethan got. And then I said it.

  “Okay.”

  His eyes lit up. “All right!” he said. “I knew you had it in you!”

  “But just one time,” I said. “I mean it.”

  “Sure, no problem. That’s all I want.”

  Now that it was decided, I let myself feel the excitement. It was even better than spying. We made our way to the older home where we’d seen the boat. Near the house were a numb
er of outbuildings, grey and weathered. We’d made the discovery four days earlier behind a large shed.

  It was a small boat, turned upside down and leaning against the back wall of the shed. We flipped it over without much difficulty and discovered a couple of wooden paddles tucked under the seats inside it.

  It slid easily along the tall grass so it didn’t take us long to drag it to a field that was out of sight of the house. Then we got in and pretended to paddle and said all the seafaring things we could think of, like, “Ahoy,” and “Avast, matey,” and “Land Ho!” We sentenced a few scallywags to walk the plank but relented at the last minute and let them swab the deck instead.

  It was cool sitting in it, hidden from view. We’d agreed on a few hours but it was longer than that before we finally decided it was time to take it back. Once it was in the same spot where we’d gotten it, we headed to Ethan’s cabin for a snack.

  I’d been satisfied playing in the boat in the field, but it was as if some kind of fever had come over Ethan. He couldn’t stop talking about putting it in the water and having a real adventure. He worked on me non-stop and, just as he probably knew would happen, he finally wore me down.

  It wasn’t until I’d given in and we were on our way to get the boat that I thought of lifejackets. Specifically, that we didn’t have any. I mentioned that to Ethan.

  “You’re just trying to back out on me,” he accused. “Forget the lifejackets. We’re not going out far enough to need them anyway.”

  “You can drown in a few inches of water,” I said.

  I wasn’t sure how, but that was something I’d heard my mom say.

  “Why would you do that?” Ethan asked. “Why wouldn’t you just stand up?”

  I couldn’t argue with the logic in that, so that was the end of the lifejacket discussion. By then, we’d reached the house where the boat was. We stopped talking as we slipped behind some bushes and snuck through to the back field where the shed was. We flipped the boat upright and slid it through the grass to the bank. Trying to ease it over the bank was a lot harder than it looked. We lost control and watched as the boat took off on its own with a quick plunge to the shore. Ethan scrambled down to it with me right behind him and we checked for signs of damage. It looked fine.