Alex's Adventure
"Tourists are here."
Catalan looked at her brother briefly. "Too early. Too cold. Tourists only come to Maine for the summer." She turned back to her book.
"It's not summer people, Lannie. They have a boat; they came in for supplies when I was at the store with Papa."
"Hmm." Catalan wasn't interested. She had a Terry Pratchett book and was still smiling at Greebo's antics in Witches Abroad.
"It's a family; they have a boy named Frankie; he asked me to come to the marina and look at his boat."
"So? Did you?"
"No. When Papa introduced himself and said he was Philippe Poirer, the man said he and his family didn't associate with French people--that they were traitors to the Americans. Because of the war in Iraq." His words came out in a bewildered rush.
"Oh, Alex. I'm sorry. What an ignorant jerk! We've been Americans since Papa's people came down from Canada." Catalan sat up and looked at him sympathetically. "What did Papa say?"
"He took my hand and walked away. I was hoping he'd say something about being in the Navy, or better yet, say one of those Navy words."
Catalan laughed, then looked at him and closed the book. "Are you all right? Should I start supper?"
"No, I'm fine. Papa went out again; he'd said he'd pick up pizza on the way home. I'll get the binoculars and look to see if they're putting out to sea." Alex loped out of the room.
Catalan looked after him. There's always something different about people, she mused. There's us and there's Papa and Alex, and they could never play in the ocean the way the women in the family did. She sighed.
Not long after she'd gone back to her book, she heard Alex screaming. "Lannie, Lannie, the boat's on fire! It's sinking! What will we do?!"
Catalan was already up. "Call the Coast Guard. Get blankets and something warm and take it down to the shelf. I'm going out." She raced down through the caves and threw herself into a breaking wave.
She slid effortlessly through the water; having legs didn't slow her down much, though she wasn't as fast as her grandmother. When she came to the surface the boat was still afloat, but the stern was under water. A man clung to a rail, holding an unconscious woman tightly . He'd been yelling, "Frankie, Frankie," for a long time she guessed because he was hoarse.
She circled the boat; on the other side a boy floated in a life jacket, head barely out of the water. No point hanging around, she decided. She grabbed the life jacket and headed for shore. It wasn't long before she reached the stone shelf below her house. Alex was waiting. He'd started a fire in the fire pit and had the blankets ready.
Catalan lifted the boy, and Alex pulled him up. "I knew I could count on you," she said. "We'd better get him out of these wet clothes and warm. They hurriedly wrapped him in the dry blankets.
"He's waking up, Lannie. I'll get the soup." Alex had heated the soup while they waited. Two caves above there were wood and supplies stored--well out of the reach of an incoming tide.
"Hungry, Frank? I've got tomato soup." Alex carried a bowl to the boy cocooned in the blankets. Frankie looked around; then he shivered and moaned.
Alex looked at Lannie. "I thought he was all right," he said.
"Probably he's worried about his parents." She patted Frank's shoulder. "Alex called the Coast Guard. I'm sure they're all right. When you're ready, we'll go up to the house and find out."
Frank admired the storage cave as he put on clothes stored there, which didn't quite fit, but were easier to walk in than the blankets, and he looked around in awe as they climbed upward through the series of caves that ran all the way up to the house's basement. "Cool," he exclaimed once.
"Smugglers' caves," Alex informed him. "We have picnics down on the shelf, and I even sleep in the cave sometimes."
"Lucky you!" Frank told him; then he remembered and walked faster. Up at the house, Catalan called the Coast Guard. The relieved look on her face when she turned and smiled at Frank reassured him.
"They're safe at a hotel. The Coast Guard will call them." They were all eating pizza when Frank's father arrived.
He hugged Frank for a long time. Finally, he turned to them and spoke to Mr. Poirer. "I'm grateful to your children. I understand they found Frankie and took care of him."
Mr. Poirer nodded. "Apparently he floated to shore, and Alex and Lannie pulled him in."
"His mother's waiting; she couldn't come because the doctor said she should rest. I hope you will join us for supper. We'll have a nice spread from room service." He looked at Alex and Lannie's father. "I hope you'll forgive me for behaving stupidly earlier today." He looked stiff, but sincere.
Mr. Poirer shrugged and said, "We're all strangers until we get to know each other. I look forward to meeting your wife and seeing Frankie again."
After Frank and his father left, Mr. Poirer smiled at his two youngest children and said, "Well done. I'm proud of you. And if you keep fishing people out of the water, we'd better stock the supply cave better. And we'll certainly have a picnic down there when your mother and sisters comes back, and you tell them about your adventure."
"Cool," said Catalan and Alex together. They had finally had an adventure!
The End