Jubilee (13 page)

I
had to bring Travis back to Sophie.

I rubbed his arms and pushed the hair off his face. He whispered, “Sophie,” then opened his eyes. “No-Talk Girl.”

I smiled and pulled him to his feet.

How could he go out there in jeans and a sweatshirt that didn't even cover his wrists?

I pulled off my raincoat, shook it out, wrapped it around him, and closed the Velcro strips.

The hood half covered his face.

“Superman!” He raised his arms, the sleeves dangling, and I hugged him to me, listening to the wind and the rumble of thunder underneath its howl.

But I couldn't be afraid. Sophie was waiting. Her family was searching for him.

I took Travis's small hand. Dog shook himself, sighing. He was at my side as I made my way down the slippery hall.

I held Travis tighter and went outside. His eyes were almost hidden under the hood, but he was smiling.

“An adventure.” He grinned, showing the space where his new tooth would come in.

More than an adventure. It was a miracle he and Dog had somehow reached the safety of Ivy Cottage.

On the way back, a small tree crashed in front of us, bouncing up, leaves quivering. Rivulets of muddy water filled with small branches and leaves coursed down the side of the road.

I planted my feet carefully in my boots, watching each step so I wouldn't fall or lose Travis's small hand.

Heads down, we trudged toward the lights of the church. We climbed the three steps and managed to push open the massive doors.

Sophie shouted, “Travis!” She wrapped her arms around him in that wet raincoat. Then she looked at me.

As he shrugged out of the coat, Sophie said, “Thank you forever, Judith.” She was crying so hard I almost didn't hear what she said. “I hated that he loved you best.”

I touched her arm. I shook my head. I wished I could say
You're his sister. How lucky you are!
But maybe she'd know it now. He hugged her as if he'd never let go.

Out on the steps, Dog hesitated. Maybe he knew he wasn't allowed in church. But I'd rather stay on the steps myself than leave him. I gave his collar a gentle tug, and he bounded inside.

A woman in the last pew turned. Her mouth opened: A dog in church? A girl dripping on the floor?

There! I caught a glimpse of Aunt Cora and Gideon.

Aunt Cora's hands went to her face.

People were crowded in the aisle between us. But they managed to move around everyone.

Then they were holding me, the three of us together, rocking in back of the church.

Dog wanted to be part of us; he nosed in around our legs, while people sang another hymn, “Amazing Grace.”

Amazing…

Because Sophie's father had come into the church now, and I heard him crying as he called, “Travis!”

Mason somehow ducked between arms and bodies, until he stood in front of us, a mess as always. “Dog,” he whispered. “Where have you been?”

He looked at me. “And you too, Jude. Where have you been, anyway?”

Maybe I'd be able to tell him someday. But for now it was enough to grin and raise my wet shoulders in the air.

We stayed in the church for the rest of the night. A few people went downstairs to stretch out in the activities room. Others leaned against each other in the pews, trying to sleep. We sat with them, Dog at my side. Aunt Cora and I held hands.

The next morning, a pale light beamed through the stained glass. I raised my head over Aunt Cora's shoulder.

Something had changed.

The rain was slowing, barely making a sound against the roof.

Aunt Cora stirred. And Gideon whispered, but his voice was deep. “Rejoice.”

People moved, gathering up packages, purses, and themselves. Someone opened the door, and one by one, they began to leave.

We walked home together, our boots covered in thick mud. Dog's fur was matted the way it had been the day I'd found him.

“Devastating,” Aunt Cora said, stepping over a piece of tile from someone's roof.

“But we're here,” Gideon said. “We've come through it.”

Behind us, feet sloshed through the massive puddles. Mason called, “See you later, Jude. See you, Dog.”

Dog turned and looked at Mason. I turned too. I knew Dog would stay with me. But he loved Mason too. If only I could say that to Mason. If only I could say
Thank you forever,
the way Sophie had.

Tucked into the pocket of the raincoat was my small cartoon pad. I couldn't wait to show Mason that leatherback heading south, heading home.

“S
chool will be closed tomorrow,” Aunt Cora said.

I yawned, still so tired, but a little disappointed, because the junonia was in my raincoat pocket, a gift for Ms. Quirk. I was sure Amber wouldn't mind.

Poor Ciro, the janitor, would have to wash and scrub after the storm, dragging his pail behind him.

Gideon left to run the ferry across to the mainland. “I have miles to go before I sleep,” he called back, words from a poem he loved.

But Aunt Cora and I went to sleep, and Dog slept at my feet.

How strange to be under the covers in the daytime!

I awoke starving. Aunt Cora broke eggs into a bowl to scramble and put bacon on to fry.

She shook her head. “All the herbs are ruined. No chives for our eggs, no basil. But I'm not complaining. It's a jubilee to have you home.”

I ate the soft eggs, drank the apple juice and even a half cup of coffee laced with milk while Aunt Cora talked. “I couldn't come to you. I had to give you time with your mother. I'm glad she's home. I'm glad you were with her.”

I pulled out my pad, but there was too much to say.

“I know,” Aunt Cora said. “But now that she's just a ferry trip away, we'll make sure you see each other.”

I pushed my chair back and went around to her, resting my head on hers. I didn't have to say anything. She knew it all.

But I had things to do. I tapped the molding to say I was going out.

Dog looked up at me and shut his eyes slowly.
Nap time.
He was worn out.

I patted his head, then went outside. Aunt Cora called after me: “Be careful.”

Mason was at the wharf, watching the ferry lumber toward the mainland. He hadn't changed his shirt; it still had smears of mud.

“About time.” He looked over his shoulder, grinning. “We have only a week to get our project ready.”

He sounded as if I'd been gone a day at the most. He looked away. “How's Dog?”

I searched for an empty page in my cartoon book.
Dear Mason,
I wrote.
I'm so glad you kept him for me. I know you miss him. I wish…

“It's all right.” He put his hand over my pen. “Really. I knew you'd come back.”

I flipped through the pad to find the cartoon to show him and held it out.

He stared down at it. “A leatherback. Really? Did you see…”

I nodded.

“If only I'd been there.” He broke off. “I'm glad it was you.”

He studied the drawing. “It's better than anything we could write,” he said, leaving a muddy fingerprint at the bottom of the page.

But that was all right. That was Mason!

And he was going on about the leatherback that had traveled so many miles in a few months. “Someday I'll do that,” he said. “My brother and I. We've planned a big trip.”

I must have looked startled.

“We're friends sometimes.”

We walked to the library together and were surprised to see it open. Newspapers were spread out on the damp floor. We were the only ones there, except for the librarian, who was running around mopping windowsills and clucking over ruined books.

We sat at a table, books on turtles and sea creatures piled high. Harry came in, racing for a back table, books on animals in his arms. Conor was right behind him. “We're going to win the prize.”

For the next hour or so, Mason and I scribbled notes about crabs that clattered over the stones near the old pier, and jellyfish that did a slow ballet around them.

I heard the ferry horn; the boat was on its way back to the island. I touched Mason's arm, pointing toward the window, and the water.

“We've done enough for now anyway.” He gathered up our books and papers.

Outside, I ran down the muddy path. The sun shone on the water, and diamonds sparkled in the gentle waves.

I waited, and waved at Sophie and Travis. People began to come off the ferry. Their mother hurried toward them and hugged them.

I climbed the ramp. Luckily, the ticket taker was nowhere in sight. I threaded my way around tables and chairs until I saw Gideon standing on the deck.

He turned, surprised. But only for a moment. I stood in front of him, my arms out.

My word was soft, but he heard it.

“Yes,” I said.

His arms went around me. “Oh, Red. Oh, Jubilee.”

And I said it again: “Yes.”

T
hursday. Tonight was the night! Mrs. Ames and the parents were coming to school to see our projects. Ms. Quirk had scurried around with our class, setting everything out in the auditorium.

The junonia shell was on a small table in front. “The gift of a lifetime,” she'd told me.

Now, at home, we scurried too. I slipped into a new green dress, the color of my eyes and the sea on a warm day.

Aunt Cora came out of her bedroom wearing her best blue dress and bent to push on heels. “They hurt.” She winked at me. “My feet must be growing. But this is a special night.”

Gideon smiled when he saw me. “That green is a redhead's color, for sure,” he said.

We hurried to school. Who was going to win? Harry and Conor with their island animals? Or maybe Sophie and Jenna, who'd written about squirrels?

It might even be Ashton and Maddie, with weird long-legged insects.

But Mason and I had a chance. My cartoons were pasted up on the wall with explanations underneath, the only project with drawings.

Maybe no one would notice a few misspellings, or a little mud, especially on the cartoon of the horseshoe crab. That one said
I look tough, but I'm a gentle guy.

“This is wonderful.” One father pointed to it.

“Fun!” That was Sophie's mom.

Mason's brother, Jerry, clapped him on the shoulder. “Not bad! Who would have thought?”

Mrs. Ames clumped up to the stage and praised all of us.

“Your teacher breathed new life into our school!” She smiled at Ms. Quirk. “And now, the winners!”

Mason and I couldn't look at each other.
Pick us, please!

But we weren't the ones.

Harry and Conor gave each other a high five as they went up the steps to receive their medals.

Mrs. Ames held up her hand. “There's something else I want to say.” She walked over to our project, taped up to the wall.

Oh no! The misspellings! The muddy fingerprints! My crazy cartoons.

She tapped one of my first cartoons: turtles sunning themselves on a log. She held it up. And then the leatherback.

She picked up Mason's papers. “ ‘Like our ferry, slow and heavy, the leatherback moves through the water,' ” she read. “ ‘Schools of fish dart around the island. All on journeys.' ”

Mrs. Ames said, “Judith and Mason, you did such a lovely job.”

I caught Mr. Kaufmann's eye. He was smiling, nodding at us.

Mason and I glanced at each other as parents clapped. Did Mason feel the syrup in his chest the way I did? I nudged him, then held out a cartoon I'd folded into my pocket.

I'd drawn him in a messy shirt and uncombed hair. A ferry was coming toward him with a small golden retriever puppy on the deck.
We belong together, Mason,
said the blurb over the dog's head.

“Great-looking dog,” Mason said.

Aunt Cora and Gideon came up to us. “A wonderful job,” they were saying.

Gideon cleared his throat. “I'm bringing a dog from the mainland tomorrow. A surprise for you, Mason. Your mother knows. So does your brother.”

And Aunt Cora said, “It's what Jude wanted. She's drawn a dozen pictures.”

Mason and I grinned at each other. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then he smiled. “You're a good friend, Jude.”

After cookies and juice in the cafeteria, it was late when I went to bed, but I wasn't tired after such a wonderful night. I smiled at my saying “Yes” to Gideon.

Maybe I'd talk more now, because I hadn't done anything wrong. Not to Amber, or Sophie. Nothing had been my fault.

I was sorry Amber couldn't come to be with us. But she'd be here Saturday and Sunday. She'd stay with us and we'd tell her all about it.

And so much had happened. Mr. Kaufmann might say, “You made it happen, Judith.”

I hoped so.

I fell asleep at last, thinking I'd draw all this for him.