Lost on Brier Island (3 page)

Alex let out the breath she had been holding and stood up.
She stretched her back, then reached under the scr
atchy
sweater and life jacket to massage her tender ribs. Her eyes happened to drift upward and she was startled to see Gus smiling down at her from the observation deck. He gave her a brief salute before disappearing from view. Had he seen her with Daredevil?

She would rather no one had—then it would be her secret. Everyone seemed to know every teeny tiny scrap about her life these days. Alex sat down and opened the bag of scones Eva had given her. They were already buttered and slathered with homemade jam. Starving, Alex gulped one down, then another. Her eyes scanned the water's surface, but there was no sign of either Rooftop or Daredevil.

Licking the last traces of tart jam from her fingers, Alex realized she was thirsty, too. Maybe Aunt Sophie had packed something. Sitting cross-legged on the bench, she rested the bag in her lap and flipped it open. Inside was a book on wildflowers and other plants of Brier Island, a book on whale watching, and a hand-drawn map of the island covered in her aunt's funky handwriting.

Tucked in the bottom were a small sketchbook and an
eight-pack of her favourite drawing pencils. There was a note attached.

Alex crumpled the note and threw everything back into the bag. So what if she didn't want to draw?

She stuffed the bag under the bench and stared off at the looming fog bank as they steamed back to the island. It seemed to follow them. The boat slowed again and pulled up to idle beside a place called Seal Cove. It wasn't hard to tell why. There were seals everywhere. Big brown ones lounged on the long, flat rocks closer to shore, with smaller, lighter-coloured ones close by—baby seals. A few lifted their heads to check out the boat and its occupants.

More seals popped up around the boat. Alex looked into the warm liquid eyes of one that had surfaced beside her. She wondered what it would say to her if it could speak. They stayed there for a while, drifting as they listened to the seals barking at each other. That's what Gus called it, and it did sound like barking. Then the fog enveloped them again. Time was up, and Gus's nephew steered them back towards port.

The harbour was still and silent as they eased into the mooring. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The boat had started to feel claustrophobic. She needed to get off, to get away from the closeness. Gus had barely tied on the lines when she leapt onto the wharf. It felt good to stand on something that wasn't moving.

“Hi, Uncle Gus.”

Alex jumped. A tiny girl was standing behind her. She hadn't even noticed her.

“Hi, Rachel,” Gus called out. He waved at her. “You missed the boat tour.”

“I know. We were too late for the early ferry this morning. It was all Mom's fault.”

Gus let out a belly laugh that rumbled through the air like thunder. A startled seagull took flight from the pole next to the boat. “Does your mum know that? I'm sure it had nothing to do with you!”

Rachel stuck her tongue out at him and then jumped onto the boat into his outstretched arms. Gus engulfed her in a tight bear hug. “It's good to see you again, squirt! You've grown since I was out there in February.”

“Yup, I'm definitely taller!” Rachel said. “I'm going to be thirteen soon, too.” She hopped down and prowled around the deck. “Ooh, I love the new boat, Uncle Gus. What did you name her?”

“Yup, she's a beauty,” he agreed. “Welcome aboard the
Evania Rose
. Still have to paint the name on her, though.”

“Can I go out with you tomorrow?”

“I think we can squeeze you in,” Uncle Gus chuckled, ruffling Rachel's blonde curls. “If you behave, that is.”

“Bogs!” Rachel growled.

What kind of a word was “bogs,” anyway? Rachel sounded just like Gus. Great, Alex thought. Big lion and now little lion.

“Who are you?” Rachel asked.

“What?” Startled, Alex realized Rachel's attention was now focused on her.

“I don't know you.” Rachel scrambled down to the dock and walked over to Alex.

Alex stepped back, but the girl kept coming closer. What was she going to do, walk right into her? Alex kept backing up until she was at the edge of the dock. Another step and she'd be in the harbour.

Obviously, this girl didn't know what personal space meant. There was nowhere left for Alex to go.

“Rachel, meet Sophie's niece, Alex,” Gus said.

“Oh!” Rachel stared at her with big eyes. “You're that girl whose brother died.”

What did she say? Alex's b
ody went rigid.

“RACHEL!” Gus exclaimed.

“What? That's right, isn't it? Mom told me about her.” Rachel tilted her head towards Alex. “You are her, aren't you?”

Alex pushed past her. She didn't wait for Aunt Sophie as she tripped down the wharf, her sneakers slipping as she went.

“Hey, what's the matter?” Rachel's voice followed her.

This wa
s a mistake, Alex thought. She had told her parents she didn't want to come here, but they said it would be good for her. Yeah, right! They just wanted to get rid of her. Alex stomped along the road in the direction of the ferry, which had just docked. Four cars and a motorcycle drove off slowly and turned right, up the hill towards the lodge.

One red pickup was waiting to board. A bald man with a grey moustache was leaning out the window, talking to one of the ferry workers. He was lucky to be getting off this rock. Alex dug around in her pockets and pulled out three quarters, a nickel, and a gum wrapper. Not enough. What would she do when she got to the other side, anyway? Hitchhike? Maybe pickup-truck guy would give her a ride.

Hitching? Brave move, wuss. Bet you chicken out.
Adam's voice echoed in her head. She gulped and stepped closer to the two men talking. “Um, excuse me?”

They both looked at her. “Afternoon,” the ferry worker said. He squinted at her. “Don't I know you? Yeah, you're Sophie's niece, aren't ya?”

“Sophie's niece, eh? Welcome.” The tru
ck guy smiled.

“She came over the other day.”

“How do you like our little island?”

Realizing that she'd been recognized and her chance of hitching a ride was now zero, Alex grudgingly answered the truck guy. “All right, I guess.”

“Hmmm, that's not very enthusiastic,” he chuckled. “I guess we can't compete with malls and movie theatres from the big city. Don't blame you, I s'pose. We old folks kind of like the peace and quiet.”

“It's okay.” Alex shrugged. She eventually made her escape after several more questions and hand waves.

Was there anyone Aunt Sophie didn't know? It was a bizarre feeling, like spies were watching her every move. In Halifax, no one knew who anyone was or cared what they did. Here, everyone knew each other and talked to each other, and waved to each other—all the time. Too weird.

Alex was anxious to get off the street and out of sight in case Rachel tried to follow her. She veered onto an old dock,
to
wards one of the garages on stilts she'd passed by earlier. It looked abandoned. She carefully stepped over broken boards and walked behind the tiny building. A faded and peeling sign,
Robichaud Fishing
, leaned against the back wall. Alex sat down beside it and draped her legs over the edge of
the wharf. Her loose sneakers dangled from the tips of her toes as she rocked her legs back and forth a
nd gazed out to sea.

The tide was coming in. Fog was again crawling across the harbour, erasing land and water. The silence thickened and settled on her skin along with the cool foggy mist. She was finally alone. Alex let out a deep breath and felt her body start to relax.

It didn't last.

The girl whose brother died. Images of Adam flickered in her head: laughing, riding his bike with no hands down the hill, teasing her, pulling her up the tree behind him, skateboarding, and then lying pale and still in that hospital bed.

Alex shuddered. She could feel it rising again. Rising up from her gut like the high tide. Guilt.

It was relentless—eroding her like the waves crashing against the rocks, only from the inside out. It had all been her fault. If only she had been more like him, less of a chicken. She was transported away from the dock and back in time, lost inside her memories.

“Alex? Where are you?” Aunt Sophie's panicked yell echoed through the fog.

“Don't worry, she can't have gone far,” Gus said. “I'll check Robichaud's here, Soph. Why don't you check the next one?”

Alex heard the creak of boards behind her. She didn't turn around as she felt Gus sit down beside her, his long legs stretching out over the edge of the wharf.

He pushed a large folded white cloth into her hand.

Alex held it away from her and looked up.

“Don't worry, it's clean,” Gus laughed, seeming to read her mind.

Alex wiped the tears from her cheeks and eyes. Sniffing, she handed it back to Gus and continued to stare out at the wall of white.

“Fascinating, isn't it? The fog here is like a living thing,” Gus said.

Alex nodded.

“Many a sailor have lost their way in fog like this. I've been tricked by the old girl myself on occasion—always found my way back, though, eventually.” Gus's deep gravelly voice was soothing.

They sat in silence for a bit longer.

“We can't stay here, Alex. Your aunt is worried about you.” Gus stood up and held out his hand.

Reluctantly, she reached up and let him tug her to her feet. “Thanks,” she muttered.

He smiled and patted her shoulder. “Why don't you come out again tomorrow? Rachel speaks her mind, but she's a good kid. Besides, you might see your little whale buddy again.”

So he had seen her after all. Well, she guessed she wouldn't mind seeing Daredevil again. And maybe she could ignore Rachel—she ignored lots of other things.

“Alexandra—I mean, Alex—you
can't run
off like that!”

Alex sat on the couch while Aunt Sophie paced back and forth.

“It's not that I don't trust you, but you know your mother. If anything happened to you…”

“I had to get away from her.”

“Who? Rachel?”

“I don't like her.”

Aunt Sophie sat on the edge of the couch. “She's a nice girl. And she's close to your age. I was hoping you two would hit it off.”

“Oh yeah, best friends.”

“You can't spend all your time alone, Alex. It's not good for you.”

Alex scowled.

“Bottling up your emotions isn't good either,” Aunt Sophie continued. “It's eating you up.”

“You don't know how I feel.”

“Alex, I was there…before Adam died. When you weren't at the hospital, you were locked away in his
bedroom. You didn't talk to anyone for days at a time. Colleen told me that you were even worse after the funeral. That's why your parents wanted you to come here—to get away from that. They were worried.”

“Sure they were!” Alex could feel her head starting to throb.

“I'm not your enemy, Alex. I'm trying to help you.”

“It doesn't seem like it. You sound just like my parents.” Alex sprang to her feet and began pacing as her aunt had done. “They think it was my fault!”

Aunt Sophie's mouth dropped open. “That's not true!”

“It
is
true. You weren't there. You didn't see the way they looked at me.” Alex could hear her voice shaking. “That's why they got rid of me.”

“Got rid of you? You're wrong. There are other things going on, things you don't understand. Your mom and dad—”

“Stop it!” Alex choked. She couldn't take it anymore. “You promised you wouldn't talk about it.”

“Okay, I'm sorry. You're right, I did promise.”

“I'm going to my room.” How normal she sounded. It didn't match at all the voice screaming inside her head.

“Wait, I'll make some dinner.”

“No thanks.”

“Alex…”

“Just leave me alone!” Alex ran up the stairs and slammed her door. She flopped on the bed and jammed on her headphones. Music blared from her
MP3
player as she lay back on one of the pillows. She clutched the other pillow in her arms and held it tightly to her chest. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs.

Alex felt like a hamster that had been running on a wheel for months without stopping. She was so tired. Her body ached all over—even her eye sockets felt bruised. The music was calming. She listened to her whole playlist, two hours' worth, lying perfectly still.

By the end of the last tune, she had memorized every detail of the ceiling, including the brown water stain in the far corner, the sliver of mismatched blue paint around the edge of the light fixture, and the thin gossamer strand of a spider web clinging to an old brass hook screwed into the plaster. It swayed gently on the faint breeze drifting in from the open window.

Reaching under the pillow behind her head, Alex pulled out the photograph she kept tucked away. It was a picture of her and Adam at their eleventh birthday party three years ago. Alex let her mind drift back. The cake had been the best one ever. Her mom had decorated half of it green and blue with a skateboarder and the other half purple with a figure skater.

A figure skater, which didn't mean Alex was one. Not like Adam, who loved to skateboard. Not that he was allowed to have one back then. But he'd always wanted one, finally getting his wish at thirteen. Alex liked to watch figure skating on television and go see the skating shows at the Metro Centre. That was her—the watcher.

She ran her fingertip gently over Adam's laughing face. “I miss you,” she whispered.

Alex rolled over on her side and closed her eyes. Her last thought was of Daredevil as she drifted off to sleep.