The Island of Dangerous Dreams (19 page)

From the corner of one eye I caught a movement and automatically dived just as he lunged for me, leaving him off balance and flailing on the surface. The sea wasn’t deep this close to land, and I could see a cluster of conchs among the wavering sea plants below me. I came up behind Kurt, pulled on one leg to jerk him under, and twisted away.

When I came up for air I was about five feet from Kurt. He was coughing and spitting. Luckily, my maneuver had caused him to gulp a mouthful of salt water.

I dived again, this time with a purpose. I picked up one of the conchs, looked up to see Kurt’s position, and shot up behind him.

Raising the conch high in the air, I banged it down on the back of Kurt’s head. He went limp and slid under the water. I dropped the conch, pulled Kurt’s head up so that he could breathe, and treaded water.

I was so thankful when I heard the boat’s motor that I shouted and whooped. Around the promontory it came. Pete was steering and searching.

Madelyn, who was on her feet, too, screamed, “Andrea!” She picked up a thermos and held it over her head like a weapon.

“It’s all right!” I shouted. I realized that they couldn’t hear me, but I couldn’t let Kurt get bashed again, so I tried to vise sign language. I felt Kurt stirring. I was glad he was going to regain
consciousness, but I didn’t want to be this close to him when he did. “Hurry!” I yelled.

Pete slowed to a stop, and the boat slid close to me.

“Kurt’s coming to,” I said as Kurt began to move his head up and down and mumble.

“Don’t worry,” Pete said. He dropped the ladder over the side.

I grabbed it with my free hand, but Kurt suddenly reached out and grabbed it too.

“Uh-uh,” Pete said. He leaned over the side and poked a small handgun into Kurt’s face. “You want to swim to shore,” he said. “There’s a nice little beach just a few yards away.”

Kurt looked at the gun. “I know,” Pete said. “It’s yours. I found it in the boat. Dirty trick, wasn’t it? Now, swim.”

Madelyn still held that threatening thermos in the air, and Ellison had picked up some kind of a tool. Benita sat with her hands over her eyes, but I hadn’t expected anything very helpful from her, so it wasn’t a surprise. Kurt stared at each of them in turn. It didn’t take long for him to make up his mind. He struck out for shore, and I scrambled aboard.

“Did you get it?” Pete asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Could I see it?”

I looked at the gun, which he still held. He looked at it, too, as though he’d forgotten it was there, and quietly handed it to me.

Laughing with relief, I put the gun down on the bench beside me. “Here’s the artifact,” I said. I
tugged on the ribbon, and the artifact slid from the neckline of my shirt. In the bright sunlight it was like a grand finale of fireworks, shooting glorious sparks of blue and gold.

Pete just stared at it, for once without words.

Kurt had reached the beach. He angrily yelled something at us, but I had no idea what it was, because Benita had picked up the gun, pointing it at each of us in turn. “Give that to me,” she said in a strange, tight voice.

“What are you doing, Benita? Put down that gun immediately. You don’t know what to do with a gun!” Madelyn demanded.

“Oh, yes I do,” Benita said, and the gun shook in her hands. I wished she wasn’t pointing it at us. “You don’t know how badly I need that artifact.”

“Enough to kill us for it?” My voice trembled too. I’d never been so frightened. It was horrifying to see that gun pointed at us and know that she might pull the trigger.

“Be quiet,” she demanded.

Aunt Madelyn tried to move in front of me, but Benita shoved her aside with such force that Madelyn fell against the seat.

“Benita!” Madelyn said, and rubbed her arm, wincing at the pain. “This is foolish! You can’t just take possession of the artifact. How will you manage to keep us all at gunpoint all the way to Grand Bahama Island?”

“I won’t have to try,” Benita said. “You can all swim to shore, just as Kurt did. I know how to pilot this boat myself. But first …” She waved the gun in my direction. “Give me the artifact, Andrea.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” she screeched. “Don’t talk nonsense! You’re old enough to know that life isn’t fair. You heard me! Give me that artifact!”

“I won’t do it,” I told her.

She raised the gun and pointed it at my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

15

“That’s enough,” I heard Pete saying. “She’s not going to hurt you, Andy.”

I opened my eyes to see him reach out and grab the barrel of the gun.

Benita screeched in panic and pulled the trigger, but there was only an empty click.

“I took the bullets out,” Pete explained to me. “Loaded guns make me nervous.” He examined it. “We don’t need this thing. Let’s get rid of it,” he said, and pitched it into the ocean.

Benita flopped to the bench and sobbed.

“What should we do with Mrs. Robley?” Ellison asked.

Madelyn’s expression softened, and she put an arm around Benita’s shoulders. “We’ll take her home,” she said.

“Aunt Madelyn,” I murmured, and when she looked up—a question in her eyes—I grinned at her. “I love you,” I said.

Pete turned up the motor with a roar, and off we went into a sweeping circle.

Benita staggered down the steps into the cabin, still crying and tugging Madelyn with her. Ellison stretched out on the cushions on one side and closed his eyes. I stood close to Pete, my arms around him—for support of course. The boat bounced over the water, and I lifted my face to catch the sting of salt spray.

“As long as we’re going to Freeport, I’ll pick up my boat and tow it in,” he said.

“When we’re in Freeport will you help me contact the authorities in Peru?”

“I’ve got a much better idea,” Pete said. “How about if I drop our passengers off in Freeport and take you straight to Peru?” he asked.

“A nice thought, but impractical,” I said.

“It will be hard to say good-bye.”

“We don’t have to for a while, not if you don’t mind hanging around Palm Beach for the next couple of weeks. I’ll even buy you a tie.”

He smiled. “You want to see me?”

“Do you think I should roll with the punches and accept things the way they are and admit that life isn’t fair? In other words, should I grow up?” I asked him.

“I don’t believe that’s what growing up means,” he said. “Do you?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t.”

“Good,” Pete said. “Because I like you the way you are, and I hope you’ll stay that way all your life.”

The boat made a wide swing as Pete let go of the
wheel and planted a kiss somewhere near my chin. “Let’s compromise,” he said. “If you don’t want Peru, how about the Panama Canal? Acapulco? Puerto Vallarta?”

“Will you let me steer the boat?”

“Sure,” he said. “Cozumel? Cancun? Key West?”

“I mean now.”

“Oh,” he said. “Do you think you’ll know the way?”

I laughed. “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”