Thunder from the Sea (2 page)

The steamer glided neatly to the dock. As men jumped off and tied the ship to the wharf with huge ropes, Enoch and Tom gathered their bags and stood in line on the gangplank. “There's Fiona!” Enoch pointed to a blond woman waving from a horse-drawn wagon up by the dirt road. She motioned to them and called, “Hello!” as they hurried up the boardwalk to the road.

A dark-haired boy popped up suddenly from the back of the wagon. “I wonder why Fiona brought Bert Bosworth along,” Enoch said, frowning.

Bert got out of the wagon. He stood with his hands on his hips and his navy blue eyes narrowed, as if he were sizing Tom up.

Enoch dumped their bags into the back of the wagon, and then introduced Tom to Bert. “You be civil to him,” Enoch cautioned Bert.

“'Course I will.” Bert grinned at Tom.

“Come meet Fiona,” Enoch said, walking to the front of the wagon. As Tom turned to follow him, Bert stuck out his foot, tripping Tom, who fell to his knees. Tom got up and dusted off his
pants and his hands without a glance at the boy, who stood by, laughing. Tom was furious and ready to pummel him, but knew this wasn't the time to take on Bert Bosworth.

“Hello, Tom.” Fiona was sitting in the driver's seat. She held out her hand. “I'm glad you've come to live with us.”

She was pretty, and when she smiled, little crow's-feet appeared at the corners of her gray eyes. She looked about the same age as Enoch—around forty, he reckoned—but Enoch had dark hair, and eyes that were an unusual golden color.

“Let's go home,” Fiona urged, moving over for Enoch to take the reins. “I can't wait to show you your room.” She patted the seat next to her. “Tom, you sit up here with us.” She turned to the other boy. “Get in the back, Bert.”

Bert grumbled, but climbed into the rear of the wagon. The horse snorted and shook his head, as if ready to move on.

“What's the horse's name?” Tom asked as he climbed aboard. Enoch clicked the reins and the horse trudged down the road.

“Prince.” Fiona laughed. “Pretty ordinary
name, eh? Practically every horse around here is named Prince.”

“I had the right to name him, 'cause he's half ours!” Bert said from the back.

“I would have named him Star,” Fiona whispered to Tom. “He has a pretty star on his forehead.”

“Star is a nice name,” Tom agreed.

They moved down a hill and crossed a rickety bridge. A sign read, “Back o' the Moon Island.” On the other side of the bridge stood a church that needed paint. The grounds around the building were overrun with weeds. “We ain't had a preacher in Back o' the Moon for years. Anyone who wants to go to church needs to go to Chance-Along,” Enoch explained.

“We read our Bible every Saturday night,” Fiona explained. “What more do we need than that?”

“I love the Bible stories,” Tom told her. “Especially the one about Elijah and the Baals.”

“You like to read, then?”

“Aye, I love to read. It's like goin' somewhere else.”

Fiona took a long look at Tom. “My, you're a right smart lad!”

Tom flushed and changed the subject. “Enoch says you don't have a dog.”

“No, but a good workin' dog is just what we need.” Fiona nudged Enoch. “Eh?”

“Maybe someday,” Enoch answered.

Bert spoke up behind them. “I wants a dog. We needs one more than you do! We got a bigger house and …”

Fiona shook her head at Bert and winked at Tom.

“How comes you brought Bert?” Enoch muttered under his breath.

“He nagged his mother until she finally said yes,” Fiona answered softly.

“Why didn't
you say
no?” Enoch asked.

“I don't dare say no to a Bosworth!” Fiona whispered.

Tom decided that he would stay away from the Bosworth family. He didn't want trouble, and Bert was trouble for sure.

B
ack o' the Moon was a small island separated from the mainland by a narrow harbor called Rumble Reach. “It's called Rumble Reach because of the sound the tides make when they come in and fill the harbor,” Fiona explained to Tom. “We often cross over to the mainland by boat, as it's more direct.” She pointed to a white house that looked across the water from a rocky cliff. “That's our place,” she told Tom. “There's a shed out back where we keep chickens.”

“And there's my house. The big green one.” Bert gestured to a boxy dwelling near the shore, close to the flakes and the docks. “And we have a barn over in the back meadow. We keep Prince there so's he can graze in the pasture.” He pointed to a square yellow house near the top of the hill.
“Eddie Rideout lives in that house. He's my best chum.”

The wagon rounded a curve and headed up a hill to the white house. Enoch stopped at the gate and tied Prince to the fence. Inside the fence was a garden of larkspur and tiger lilies.

Tom climbed out and was about to reach for his carpetbag that carried the few belongings he brought with him, when Bert grabbed it. “I'll take it in,” he offered. Tom shrugged but watched Bert uneasily. He hoped the Bosworth boy wouldn't open the latch and let everything fall out. But Bert lugged the satchel through the open door and into the living room where he set it on the rug.

“Thank you, Bert,” Fiona said. “You can go on home now and tell your mother you were right helpful. Tom needs some time to get acquainted with things.”

Tom's small room faced the meadow and the ocean to the east. It was a clean room with green and white striped wallpaper and shiny cream-colored woodwork. White curtains shifted in the breeze from the open window and a bright quilt covered
the bed. The floor was linoleum that looked like hardwood. Tom could tell that the Murrays had recently spruced up the room, as it smelled faintly of fresh paint.

“It's a right nice room,” Tom said to Enoch and Fiona who stood by the door. “Thank you.”

“We hope you'll be happy here,” Fiona said.

They left him to put away his clothes and clean up. Tom folded the quilt and put it on the chair, then lay on the crisp sheets. The soft flutter of the curtains sounded like music and he wished he could sleep for a while. But no! He must get downstairs to see what work Enoch expected of him. He didn't want to seem like an idle slinger. He straightened the bed and then headed down to the kitchen.

Fiona had tea simmering on the black wood-stove. “I've opened the doors and windows to let the breeze in,” she said. “The stove makes the house very hot.”

“It's a fine house,” Tom said, looking around. “Where's Enoch?”

“Down on the beach.” Fiona motioned to the table, then poured tea into a beaker. “Sit down,
Tom. It'll be pleasant to have three at the table at last.” She set the tea in front of Tom. “We've always wanted children,” she said, “but the Lord felt differently, it seems. So we're glad to share our home with a good boy like you. The people at the mission said you were hardworking and well mannered and that you had a good heart.” She patted Tom's hand. “Those are praiseworthy words, Tom.”

Tom smiled at Fiona. But he didn't know what to say, so he sipped his tea and looked away.

After tea and molasses buns, Fiona led Tom out to the fenced-in yard. She opened the gate, and the chickens cackled and chattered around them. A red rooster chased Tom, clucking and nipping at his trousers. Fiona shooed the bird away. “That's Rufus!” she said. “Once he knows you're part of our family, he'll leave you alone.”

Part of the family? Did he dare to hope he'd be part of the family?

“I hope he didn't hurt you.” Fiona brushed off Tom's trousers. “Rufus is a sassy bird. You won't need to get the eggs for me until he gets to know you better.” She uncovered an egg from one of the
nesting places and put it in her apron pocket. She pointed at a lean-to shack. “Over there's the wood shed. That's where we keep firewood and root vegetables.”

After lunch Enoch took Tom down to the waterfront where he was repairing a small punt. The boat was turned upside down and the bottom had been scraped. Enoch showed Tom how to caulk the seams by rolling hemp oakum until it was a thread, and then stuffing it into the cracks.

“As soon as that's done, we'll put tar on it,” Enoch said. “This old tub'll be fine, once it's watertight, see. When we're sure it's seaworthy, you can have it for your own.”

“My own boat?” Tom gasped.

“Why sure, my boy. You're goin' to be a fisherman. With a little punt like this you can fish with hand lines or jiggers, or nets, for that matter. A fisherman needs a boat.” Enoch looked thoughtful. “Maybe we'll paint it a bright color so it'll stand out on the water, see.”

“Bright red would be a real standout,” Tom suggested.

“Red, eh?” Enoch smiled and clamped Tom on
the shoulder. “Let's see what kind of a job you can do on this. I'm goin' down to the boat. Got to fill her up with gas for tomorrow.” Enoch left and Tom went immediately to work.

Tom couldn't believe his good fortune. His own little punt! Maybe he would be a good fisherman after all! He was so busy with the caulking he was startled when he saw Bert and another boy standing beside him.

“This here's my chum Eddie,” Bert said. Eddie nodded and grinned.

“Why are you botherin' with that old tub?” Bert asked.

“It'll sink soon as it hits the water,” Eddie said.

Tom kept on working and didn't answer.

Bert egged him on. “Don't you know how to talk?”

“What are you smouchin' around me for?” Tom asked without looking up.

“I ain't smouchin'.”

“You are so. You're prowlin' around tryin' to make trouble!”

“I'm tryin' to be
friendly
”—Bert's voice rose—“since you're goin' to be livin' here.”

“Sure don't sound friendly to me,” Tom said. “Sounds more like pickin' a fight. And what's the idea of trippin' me in town today with your big clumsy spaug?”

“My spaug got in the way, that's all,” Bert answered.

A girl came out from under the tall spindly flakes and headed toward them. She had a little redheaded girl in tow, who seemed about five years old.

“Go on home, Nancy,” Bert yelled.

“Go home yourself!” the older girl shouted back and came alongside the punt. “Are you Tom Campbell who's come to live with the Murrays?” she asked. “I'm Nancy, Bert's sister.”

Tom immediately saw the resemblance. She had the same raven-colored hair and vibrant blue eyes.
Is she as nasty-mouthed as her brother?
he wondered. “Yes, I'm Tom Campbell.”

The little girl tugged at Nancy's hand. “Stop pullin' me,” Nancy whispered. “This here's Rowena Rideout, Eddie's sister. I take care of her almost every day. Her ma's the granny here on Back o' the Moon.”

Bert interrupted his sister. “Say, Tom. I heard you got sick on the boat yesterday. You better not yuck all over me tomorrow!”

Tom wondered how Bert heard he'd been sick. Did Enoch complain to the Bosworths? He hoped not. But how else could Bert have known? “What am I doin' with you tomorrow?” Tom asked.

“We're goin' out to fish,” Bert answered. “My pa and me, with you and Enoch.”

“Are you comin' too?” Tom asked Eddie.

“Naw, the boat's only big enough for a crew of four,” Eddie said.

Tom turned back to his work. “Then I'll see you tomorrow,” he said, hoping Bert would take the hint and go away.

Instead, Bert and Eddie sat on a rock and watched Tom caulk the punt while Nancy and Rowena stood nearby.

“I heared you're an orphan,” said Bert.

“Hush!” Nancy warned her brother.

The Murrays must have told the Bosworths all about him. “Yes, my folks died a long time ago.”

“How long did you live in the orphanage?” Eddie asked.

“Most of my life. It's not just an orphanage. It's a hospital and school and—”

“That's not what I heared,” said Bert.

“What would you know about it?” Tom asked.

“A school's where you learn to read and write and do numbers,” said Bert.

“That's right. I learned to read and write and do numbers there,” said Tom.

“You can read?” Nancy's eyes were huge.

“Of course I can read! Can't you?” Tom answered.

There was a long moment before anyone spoke. Eddie was watching Bert closely. Then Bert said, “Sure I can read.”

“You cannot!” Nancy said.

“I can so,” Bert yelled at her.

“He can read and write his name, but that's all,” Nancy said to Tom.

“You shut up, Nan.
You're
the one who can't read.” Bert spit on his finger and wrote on a boulder. The letters disappeared quickly in the sun, but Tom knew he had written his first name.

“See?” Eddie said. “Bert
can
read and write.”

“Write another word,” said Nancy.

“I'll write the word
fish
,” said Bert with a mean look at his sister. He spit on his finger again. COD.

Tom bent over laughing. “That's not
fish
!” he finally managed to say. “That's
cod
!”

“Well, a cod's a fish, ain't it?” Bert roared, his face red with anger. He stood up, then raced away toward his house down the shore.

“Hey!” Eddie called, running after him. “Wait for me!”

Nancy was still sitting on the rock. “I wants to learn to read real bad. Don't suppose you could teach me sometime, do ya?”

“Maybe,” Tom answered. “Isn't there a school in Chance-Along?”

“Yeah, but it's too far to go every day.” Nancy chased after Rowena, who was roaming under the flakes, then pulled her back to a boulder and wagged her finger. “You'll get lost someday if you wander off like that.” She turned to Tom. “Come on, Tom. We could come over by 'n' by, and you could show me—”