The Island of Dangerous Dreams (6 page)

What a good hiding place, I thought, and my mind flicked at the possibilities of a lovely adventure with pirates and plunder before I smiled to myself, put my mask back on, and swam out of the cave.

I twisted to swim through the arch and propelled myself—a little faster now—in the direction of the judge’s dock. The sun was much lower, casting a deep orange glow that glimmered on the surface of the water. A dark shadow slipped past me as I neared the dock, and I picked up my pace, recognizing the thin, mean lines of a barracuda and eager to stay out of its way.

Once on the ladder I could pull off the fins and scramble up to the surface of the dock. I tugged off my mask and shook water from my hair as though I were a pup. Smoothing it back from my forehead, enjoying the feel of the sun on my wet body, I was once again aware of being watched. The prying eyes irritated me, but I wouldn’t let the watcher know it. Slowly I walked across the dock and up the path toward the house.

Aunt Madelyn, dressed in dark blue silk, which set off her long strand of pearls, stepped out on the lower veranda and called, “Andrea! You haven’t allowed yourself much time to dress for dinner!” As I climbed the steps to join her she murmured with concern, “Dinner will be served in less than
half an hour. Are you going to be able to do anything with that dripping wet hair?”

“Don’t worry.” I shook my hair again. “I wouldn’t go anywhere without my trusty hair dryer.”

I expected her to relax, but she looked even more concerned and said, “Let’s hope the generator can handle it.”

“Generator?” It suddenly occurred to me that the island wouldn’t be magically supplied with electricity. The judge would have to manufacture his own. “I’ll hurry,” I told her, and I did, banging my elbows only twice while I showered. I dressed in a red, loose-knit cotton sweater and full poplin skirt in matching red, which I liked because between the two pieces there were six deep pockets. I found a stick of gum in one pocket and two quarters in another, which was a nice surprise. Brush in hand, I plugged in my hair dryer. It started, then just as suddenly it stopped.

There were quick footsteps on the stairs and down the hallway. “Andrea!” Madelyn called from outside my door. “You’ve blown out the generator. Don’t use your hair dryer again!”

I opened the door. “I’m sorry.” My stomach rumbled, and I realized how hungry I was. “I ruined dinner, didn’t I?”

“No. The stove is fueled with butane gas,” she said. “But dinner will be served promptly at seven, and you have only five minutes left. You must not be late!”

“What about the generator?”

She sighed elaborately. “No doubt we’ll eat by
candlelight. Ellison will probably work on the generator between courses.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t waste time making apologies. Hurry!”

“I’ll hurry!” I said. “I’ll be downstairs on time!”

And I was, my still-damp hair slicked back and twisted into a tight knot at the back of my neck. The one, lone barrette that I found in the bottom of a third pocket had the great responsibility of holding the knot in place. I hoped it would stay put, at least until after dessert.

I jogged down the stairs, across the wide entry hall, and into the living room. The appearance of the room had been changed, not all of it due to a cluster of lit candles on a table near the dining-room entrance. There was a more interesting table—a narrow, high table with spindly legs, which I had seen earlier beside one of the sofas. It was performing a special duty of its own. It had been moved to one side of the room and draped with a black velvet cloth. Behind the table was a chair, equally ugly and probably equally valuable as an antique. Next to the table stood a modern spotlight type of floor lamp, its spot aimed at the middle of the table. The cone-shaped shade and stand were covered with a silvery chrome, dingy and scraped in places. It seemed completely out of place.

The judge wasn’t in the room. Neither was Kurt. Madelyn and Norton had their heads together, and Benita stood aside with Aldo, the two of them studying the setting with silent suspicion.

Ellison appeared at the entrance to the dining
room and formally apologized because dinner would be delayed half an hour. Then he announced that drinks would be served on the veranda.

The judge presided, but not very graciously. He was downright grumpy and glared at me, once mumbling, “Persona non grata.” I didn’t have to ask for a translation. I quickly glanced around, my face hot with embarrassment, desperately hoping that no one else had heard him. It was horrible to be an unwanted guest.

As Madelyn and Benita gave their orders I decided that everyone would be more comfortable if I weren’t in sight, so I stepped back through the open terrace doors into the living room. As I did someone slipped from the room and disappeared into the entry hall. It was just a flash of movement. I didn’t see who it was. It would have to be Ellison. Everyone else was out on the veranda. Right?

But I heard a sound from the opposite direction—the dining room—and turned to see Ellison puttering with something on the dining-room table.

Curious, I stepped to the open veranda doors and began to count noses. Madelyn was talking to the judge. Benita sat in a nearby wicker rocker, sipping on her drink. At the far end of the veranda, opposite the library, Norton leaned against the porch rail and seemed to be staring through the darkness, studying what little could be seen of the sea.

The person who had left the room in such a hurry must have been Aldo. I shrugged. I could practically hear Mom telling me not to be dramatic.
As though to emphasize her point, I could hear footsteps down the stairs and across the entry hall. I leaned in to see Aldo striding across the living room toward me. He smiled and said something about being glad he’d had time to go back to his room. He’d realized he was missing a cuff link, and there it had been—lying on the bed. I was glad he didn’t know how suspicious I’d been, and for no good reason. That strange, black-covered table had ignited my imagination.

Aldo stepped onto the veranda, and I followed. Norton, Benita, and Madelyn were clustered around the judge.

Aunt Madelyn put a hand on my shoulder and drew me into the group. “Did you have a lovely swim, Andrea?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “The sea flowers are beautiful.”

The judge looked up. “Some of those beautiful ‘flowers’ can be deadly. Things are not always what they seem.”

I thought about Rick and sighed. “People, too,” I said.

The judge gave such an odd laugh that everyone looked at him. “An astute remark, my dear,” he said. “Especially in this group.”

I was puzzled. Was he making fun of me? “I don’t understand,” I told him. “Do you mean that someone here isn’t for real?”

“There’s an old nautical term,” he said. “ ‘Sailing under false colors.’ ”

I could feel Madelyn tense. No one responded. I got the feeling that the judge didn’t expect anyone to.

To my relief, Ellison appeared just then and announced dinner.

“Please go ahead without me,” Aldo said. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“What’s the problem?” the judge asked.

“A slight sinus headache,” Aldo said. “I have some aspirin in my room. Please. I insist. Don’t wait for me.”

“Very well,” the judge said. We followed him into the dining room.

The meal, which
was
served by candlelight, was boring. Ellison wasn’t the greatest cook in the world. It was hard to see everything I was eating, which was probably for the best. I sat at the end of the table next to Kurt, who, when he wasn’t substituting for Ellison in bringing more rolls or water, tried to relate to me by reminiscing about his high school football career.

“I bet you dated the head cheerleader too,” I said.

His expression became a little wistful, and he held his knife and fork at rest for a few moments. “I was really somebody in high school,” he said. “Everybody wanted to be my friend. I never had to worry about a girl turning me down when I asked for a date, and yeah, I did date the head cheerleader. We even fell in love—for a while.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just looked at him and hoped I’d think of something. But he shoveled a large bite of steak into his mouth and said around it, “It was never the same after high school.”

“Maybe you should have gone out for pro ball,” I suggested.

He sighed. “Maybe I should have, but it’s too late now.” Deliberately, he seemed to be changing the subject away from himself. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I got the same warm feeling inside that I always got when I thought about Dr. Kirschman. “I think I want to be an archaeologist,” I said.

Kurt gave me a quick sideways glance, then shrugged.

There was no point in talking to Kurt about archaeology. Besides, I wanted to know more about him. “What do you do as the judge’s secretary?” I asked. “Do you type letters and answer phones and all that?”

He shook his head. “I’m just one of his secretaries. He has office help who work with the phone and mail and all the other jobs office secretaries do. I handle other things for him.”

He stopped there, so I asked, “Like what?”

“All sorts of things, like making sure the boat is ready when he wants to take it out. It’s too complicated to go into right now.”

I felt sorry for this guy, whose biggest moments in life had to have been back in high school. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that the judge must be a pain to work for.

Kurt shoved back his chair and picked up my plate. “I’ll help,” I said.

He shook his head. “Sit down. You’re a guest, and I’m paid to do this sort of thing.”

So while he cleared the table and brought on
dessert, I joined the others in listening to the judge, who, naturally, sat at the head of the table and pontificated. He began some long-winded, uninteresting story about the IRS and a major art purchase, so I tuned him out. I thought about Mom and Dad and desperately hoped they were getting their problems worked out. I was homesick for a home that might not be there when I got back to Texas, and the thought was so scary I had to fight away the tears.

Suddenly Benita began to choke, waving her hands in the air and jumping from her chair.

“Pound her on the back!” Norton jumped up too.

But Benita managed to recover enough to say, “No. I’m all right” She coughed again and said, “Water. It went down the wrong way.” She tried to smother another coughing fit as she hurried from the room.

The judge began to question Aldo about his travels, but Madelyn suddenly said, “I’d better make sure that Benita’s all right.” She pushed back her chair and left the room.

Aldo began to describe the details of some restaurant he liked in Monaco, and even though we had just eaten, his descriptions of the meals made me hungry.

About the time that I began to wonder what was taking Aunt Madelyn so long, she returned and slid back into her chair without a word. At the same time the overhead lights came on. We all blinked and squinted at each other in the sudden light.

Ellison appeared in the kitchen doorway and solemnly said, “The generator got fixed.”

“Obviously,” the judge answered.

Kurt had served us some kind of soppy pudding for dessert. Now that we could see it, no one seemed to want to eat it, which was just as well, because the judge stood up, tapping on his water glass. However, instead of giving an after-dinner speech, he said, “As soon as Benita returns, we’ll be ready to begin.”

Benita, still a little out of breath, spoke from the doorway to the living room. “Ooooh, such tantalizing mystery! Are we to have a treasure hunt?”

Judge Arlington-Hughes scowled at her. “Hunt, no. Treasure, yes. You are invited to come to the parlor to view the Peruvian artifact.”

It was like the bell announcing the end of class on the last day of school. Everyone frantically shoved back chairs, fumbling and scrambling as they tried not to trip over or step on the others in the general movement toward the living room.

I hung back, feeling more like an outsider than ever. I wasn’t really part of this group. But Kurt stepped up behind me and held my shoulders, giving me a gentle push forward. “Go ahead,” he said. “There’s a candle for you.”

“A candle?”

“On the table.”

“Look,” I said, turning toward him and lowering my voice, “I feel a little bit guilty about joining them. The judge didn’t want me to come. I can’t bid on that artifact.”

“You want to see it, don’t you?”

“Yes, but maybe later. Right now this is some kind of a big moment for him.”

“For you, too, unless you stay here talking and miss it,” he answered, and pulled the louvered doors closed between us.

Curiosity was stronger than guilt, so I willingly turned and stepped into the living room. The only light in the room came from the candles that Aunt Madelyn, Benita, Norton, and Aldo were holding and the solitary candle in a small brass candle holder on a nearby marble-topped table. I picked it up and joined the others, who were standing in a semicircle in front of the velvet-draped table, squeezing in between Aunt Madelyn and Benita. The flickering light distorted their features and cast giant, jerking shadows on the wall. The four adults were gripping their candles, not moving, not breathing, just staring at Judge Arlington-Hughes. I discovered that I was doing the same thing.

The judge hadn’t waited for me before beginning his show. From the few words I heard as I joined the group, he had been delivering some kind of short history of the artifact. He pulled a dark box from his coat pocket and paused, smiling.

“I want you to get your first glimpse of the stone under the spell of candlelight.”

He opened the box and laid the artifact on the black velvet in front of us, then leaned back in his chair.

We all gasped. I had never seen anything like that in my life, not even in some of the photographs that Dr. Sammy Kirschman had shown us.
The topaz, which had to be even larger across than a silver dollar, was roughly cut, not faceted. But it was as deeply blue as seawater and sparkled with a gold sheen, the way the ocean had sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight.