Nim at Sea (7 page)

“I’
VE GOT AN IDEA,”
Nim said. It was the morning after the ship went through the elevator canal and the Professor was whistling cheerfully. Nim needed him to be in a good mood so she could start putting their plan into action. “You know how you give a lecture about animals every day? When you do the sea lion lecture on Wednesday, it could be like a show—like a circus! And I could help.”

“There’s not enough time to get that together.”

“But this sea lion is amazingly smart—and so is the iguana. I bet I could get them ready for you, especially if I could train them in a pool.”

“That beast will go to the Sea Lion Pool,” snarled the Professor, “when I’m sure she won’t bite anyone else.”

I wish she’d bitten you harder!
Nim thought.

“She was probably just scared,” she said. “I’m positive she won’t do it again.”

“She’d better not,” said the Professor, glancing at his whip.

“Everyone will see how intelligent, unique, and interesting they both are. And you’ll get all the credit!”

“Well, maybe we
can
do a show on Wednesday morning. Then if she behaves, she can stay in the Sea Lion Pool till she’s sol—till she’s relocated.”

Nim felt as if she’d just swallowed a bucket of cold water.
Relocated! How would I ever get her back then?

But we won’t let that happen!
she reminded herself fiercely.
We’ve still got three days to get our show ready—and then we’ll escape.

“You can have a couple of hours in the afternoons to practice. And”—the Professor paused and stared at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking—“it had better be good.”

“But how’s it going to be good if we can’t use the big pool?” Nim demanded when she and Erin and Ben were in the Kids’ Klub carving watermelons into interesting sculptures. Kristie had demonstrated how to carve a Viking’s head and a sailboat, and now the kids each had a watermelon and a blunt knife and could carve whatever they liked.

Nim used her own pocketknife to carve Selkie. Erin carved a cat, and Ben made a Viking’s head that was nearly as good as Kristie’s.

Fred ate the whole middle out of a watermelon and made an empty rowboat. Everyone clapped, and he scrambled back onto Nim’s shoulder, looking smug at how clever he was.

“Do you think that could be a trick?” Nim asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Erin. “But I
have
figured out how you can use the waterslide pool for your show.”

This was the third day Jack had spent on his raft. He still had two coconuts and half a container of water. He was a bit sore, very stiff, and very, very tired.

But there was a line on the horizon that could have been cloud or…
Sunshine Island
? Jack hoped so.

The closer he sailed, the clearer and less cloudlike the line became. By noon he was sure. It was definitely land. Jack tightened the sail and whistled for wind.

A speck of light caught his eye. A soda bottle was bobbing on the waves—with something inside it.

If Nim had been with him, they would have chased and grabbed it.

But they’d never, ever found a message—and if Nim had been with him, he wouldn’t be going to Sunshine Island on a raft made out of the wall of their hut. Jack let the bottle float by and sailed on as fast as he could.

Alex had spent three whole days alone in her cabin. She hadn’t spoken to anyone except Virginia, the steward, when she brought her juice every morning and came back a little later to clean. “What a shame you’re not feeling better!” Virginia said. “You’d have so much fun if you could get out there and meet people.” But Alex had left behind the people she most wanted to know.

She even kept her curtains closed, because all she could see were people walking by and the lifeboat stands, which weren’t very interesting.

And even though there were pens and writing paper in her cabin’s desk, she hadn’t written a word. For the first time in her life, there was no story in her head.

Worst of all, she didn’t care.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Sunday 11 July, 5:30 p.m.

Subject: Important!

Dear Jack,

Erin, Ben, and I have a plan. I hope it will work. Selkie and Fred and I are going to put on a show, so we practiced for two hours this afternoon. It’s horrible being with Selkie when the Professor’s watching because I have to pretend I don’t know her, and pretend I’m training her to do tricks, even though it’s just the games we play at home. But Selkie thinks it’s better than being in the cage, so she doesn’t mind pretending. Fred hates the Professor so much he just glares at him all the time, but the Professor never notices.

It’s very interesting being on the ship—but I still like our island best. I hope you will stop being mad at me soon.

Love (as much as you love the island),

Nim

“No message yet,” Erin said to Nim when she came back from sending Nim’s e-mail to Jack. She tried to sound as if it wasn’t important, as if she didn’t know that Nim was worrying about whether Jack was too angry to answer or there was another reason that was even worse.

“Maybe he keeps forgetting to charge the battery,” Nim said.

“Probably,” said Erin.

“Or a virus!” said Ben.

“Maybe,” said Nim.

“We’ve got an hour before dinner,” said Ben. “Let’s play Spy.”

“Dolphin Deck?” asked Erin.

“Butterfly,” said Nim, and started up the stairs. Ben and Erin always gave her a head start when they played Spy, because it was harder for someone with an iguana on their shoulder to blend into a crowd.

Nim chose the Butterfly Deck because the butterflies were the only animals on the ship that didn’t make her feel sad. They had plenty of space to fly around, and she loved it when they landed on her hair and arms. Nim wandered slowly through the butterfly cage, with Fred sitting so still that her head and Fred’s spine were soon covered with brightly colored butterflies. They both smiled so much that even the happy, kissy people who came in from the wedding room to have their pictures taken didn’t notice that she didn’t really belong in their party.

F
ROM ONE END
of Sunshine Island to the other, people stared as Jack sailed his raft past the roaring Jet Skis, through the swimmers and snorkelers in the calm water, and right up onto the beach between the sunbathers and sandcastles.

He pulled down the sail and folded it into its bag, in case he needed it again. Curious people gathered around to watch him.

“Where’s the airport, please?” Jack asked.

Someone pointed down the road.

Someone else took his picture.

“It’s a long walk,” one man said. “I’ll drive you.”

“Thanks.”

Jack followed him to a golf buggy parked at the top of the beach, and the crowd drifted back to their sunbathing and sandcastles.

But when they reached the airport: “You’re in luck!” said the man at the ticket counter. “You can get on a flight tomorrow morning.”

“But I need to go today!” said Jack.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays—that’s it.”

Thursday!
thought Jack.
That’s the day Alex and Nim left. If they missed the flight, they’ll still be here.

The man with the golf buggy drove him all around the town till late at night, but they never found a sign of Alex or Nim.

“You,” said Alex to herself as she sat cross-legged on her bunk to eat her dinner, “are a lazy, lay-a-bed, slobby slug. You’ve gone through the Panama Canal without even seeing it. What if you need a story hero to stow away on an oceanic adventure—how are you going to write about it?”

“Same way I always do,” she answered. “Reading, research, and imagination.”

“Except the last book,” said Alex. “You lived that one. That’s why it’s your best story—and the best part of your life.”

But she hadn’t even been brave enough to open her new book yet.

The Kids’ Klub closed at five o’clock, but a big bunch of kids were out on the Sea Lion Deck when Erin, Nim, and Ben wandered up there after dinner. Nim had just finished eating her smuggled food when a small pigtailed girl tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Spider!” she shouted.

Quick as a wink, everyone else grabbed the nearest hands to make the web; Ben wriggled and squirmed to get through and the others held tight until the pigtailed girl began to giggle and they all collapsed together in a wiggling, giggling heap, happy as a pile of sea lion pups in the sun.

Later that night, with her windows open to catch the sea breeze, Alex heard the next-door parents chatting on the deck after their children had gone to bed. She imagined them leaning over the rail to watch the moonlight dancing on the waves.

“They seem to be having a good time,” the father was saying. “They’ve made lots of new friends.”

“And they’re certainly enjoying the food! They keep heaping their plates with more than they could possibly eat—but when I look again, it’s gone.”

“This fresh sea air’s certainly giving them an appetite,” the father agreed.