Lost on Brier Island Read online

  JO ANN YHARD

  Copyright © 2011 Jo Ann Yhard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission from the publisher, or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, permission from Access Copyright, 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, Ontario M5E 1E5.

  Nimbus Publishing Limited

  3731 Mackintosh St, Halifax, NS B3K 5A5

  (902) 455-4286 nimbus.ca

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Yhard, Jo Ann

  Lost on Brier Island / Jo Ann Yhard.

  ISBN 978-1-55109-881-4

  I. Title.

  PS8647.H37L68 2011 jC813’.6 C2011-900031-8

  Nimbus Publishing acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities from the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF) and the Canada Council for the Arts, and from the Province of Nova Scotia through the Department of Communities, Culture and Heritage.

  To my family.

  I am grateful for your continued support and inspiration, especially to our next generation—Mary, Matthew, and Ella.

  You keep us all young at heart.

  Chapter One

  Alex sat in the kitchen with her arms crossed and stared at the red and white checked pattern on the tablecloth. Her stomach growled. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Aunt Sophie approaching in her paint-splattered jeans.

  “C’mon, kiddo, eat up.” Aunt Sophie placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her. “These are eggs like you never tasted—from my own chickens.”

  “Not hungry.”

  Her aunt sighed and sat down.

  Alex turned away and looked out the window at the ocean off in the distance.

  “Alexandra,” Aunt Sophie said, “I can live with the grumpy face, but you have to eat.” She pushed the plate closer and plunked a glass of apple juice down beside it.

  “Don’t want it.” Alex nudged her chair away from the table. “And my name is Alex.”

  “Alex, then. You’ve been here for two days already. You can’t keep sneaking the cookies and pop I bought as a treat for you and not eat regular meals.”

  Alex’s head snapped up in surprise.

  “Hey, I can see when a cookie box is empty as well as anyone.” Aunt Sophie smiled. “Sorry, kiddo, I’ve got to pull out the responsible adult act here. You’ll just have to sit there until you finish it.”

  “Fine!” Alex scowled and stabbed her fork at the yellow mound, stuffing in a mouthful. The eggs were soft and creamy. Her stomach growled even louder.

  “See, it’s not so bad.” Aunt Sophie patted her shoulder and got up from the table. “Besides, you need your strength. It’s a sunny day, finally. We’re going out.”

  Alex gulped down the cold juice. Out? She couldn’t think where they would go. Brier Island had no mall, no movie theatre, and no arcade. There was nothing at all to do.

  They strolled down the dirt road. Aunt Sophie didn’t drive unless she had to. Alex could see a sketch pad peeking out from her aunt’s bag. Hmmm, she’s probably going to try to get me drawing again, Alex thought. Her aunt was wasting her time.

  “Oh, look.” Aunt Sophie stopped suddenly and pointed to a cluster of yellow flowers by the side of the road. “These are endangered.”

  Endangered flowers? That was silly. They looked like plain old buttercups—nothing special about that. A fat bumblebee droned past her and landed on one of the yellow petals.

  “What a great shot,” Aunt Sophie said. She pulled her camera from her bag and started snapping away. “So unusual, too—I’ve only seen Eastern Mountain Avens in Big Meadow in the nature preserve.”

  Alex glanced across the field at the water. She could hear waves crashing against the shore. The sun was warm. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. The rays felt good on her face.

  After a few minutes, Alex noticed the camera had stopped whirring and clicking. She opened her eyes to see what her aunt was doing.

  Aunt Sophie was staring at her with a weird expression on her face. Was she going to cry?

  “What’s wrong?” Alex glanced back over her shoulder. There was nothing but the flowers, the cliff, and the ocean.

  “What?” Aunt Sophie seemed to snap out of a trance. “Oh, it’s nothing. I thought…it looked like you were almost smiling there for a minute. It caught me by surprise.”

  Alex didn’t say anything and resumed walking. Her aunt kept pace beside her. They travelled in silence for a while. Butterflies and bees continued to cross their path.

  “You know, if you want to talk—”

  “I don’t,” Alex said. She clenched her hands and started walking faster, almost tripping in her sneakers. They were dark blue and a size too big. Dust from the road billowed around her.

  “Okay, slow down! Forget I said anything.”

  Alex ignored her, practically running now.

  “Please stop, Alex.” Her aunt jogged beside her. “I promise I won’t mention it again.” She touched Alex’s arm. “I promise.”

  Alex slowed down and let out a deep breath. An old man riding a bicycle smiled and waved at them as he passed by. The bicycle was rusty with huge tires. It looked like it was from a museum. So did the man. With his frail hands and wispy white hair, he looked like he was made of parchment paper.

  “Hi, Henry.” Aunt Sophie waved back.

  Alex didn’t wave or smile.

  The tide was out. Mustard-coloured seaweed covered the rocky shore like a blanket. A bright white and black seagull sat amongst the thick strands, its beak clamped around a purple mussel.

  Not that long ago, Alex would have been reaching for the coloured pencils and sketch pad that she always used to keep with her.

  Instead, her gaze was drawn to the ferry as it sped away from the dock towards Long Island. Only one thought was in her head.

  How could she sneak on board and escape from this island prison?

  Chapter Two

  “Hi, Eva. What flavour coffee have you got on today?” Aunt Sophie asked as they entered the café. She tossed her bag onto the counter and made a beeline for the coffee perk.

  “Bavarian cinnamon. I thought it would go great with my gooseberry scones, fresh out of the oven.”

  “Mmmm. Butter one up for me, would you?” Aunt Sophie grabbed a chipped green mug from the tray by the coffee and poured a steaming cup. The smell of cinnamon filled the room.

  As Eva and her aunt chatted, Alex turned away to roam through the aisles of the general store section of the café. It was strange coming from Halifax, a city, where there were separate stores for clothes, food, and pharmacy stuff. Everything here was jammed together on neatly stacked shelves. Tomato soup sat next to rubber boots, diapers, and playing cards.

  “Has Gus been in?” Sophie asked.

  “Not yet,” Eva said. “But I expect him any time. Thinking of going out today?”

  “If he’s not booked up with paying customers,” Sophie said. “The fog and rain have cleared off, so it’s a good chance to get some photographs of the humpbacks in the bay. I hear there have been some new arrivals.”

  “Yes, that’s July for you,” Eva said. “Here you go. I topped it off with my field berry jam.”

  “Wow, Eva, this is amazing!”

  “Hi there, dear. Would you like a scone too?”

  Alex was examining a tiny sewing kit, filled with mini spools of all different colours of threads.

  “Alex?” Aunt Sop
hie said. “Eva is talking to you.”

  Reluctantly, Alex put the kit back on the shelf and walked over to the counter. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She stared at the scones. Steam was still rising from the fluffy biscuits filled with bright berries.

  “Try one,” Eva said. “You’ll think you died and went to heaven.”

  Alex gasped and backed away from the counter. She whirled around to flee and smacked into the movie rental rack. DVD and VHS cases tumbled to the floor as she tripped, falling to her knees.

  “Dear lord, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, Eva.” Aunt Sophie knelt down beside Alex and grabbed her arms. “Are you all right?”

  Alex shook her head and pushed her aunt’s hands away. Tears blurred her vision.

  The jingle of the hummingbird wind chimes over the screen door made her jump. Huge scuffed work boots stopped in front of her. Alex blinked and looked up. Golden hazel eyes stared back at her, surrounded by a mane of bushy brown hair speckled with grey.

  “Morning, Sophie. I take it this is your summer visitor?” The man’s voice was deep and gravelly, like the low growl of a lion.

  “Hi, Gus.” Aunt Sophie stood up, tugging Alex with her. “This is Alex. Alex, this is Gus.”

  “Pleased to meetcha.” A hand the size of a plate stretched out towards her.

  Alex was mesmerized by the thick digits and unexpected perfectly trimmed, white fingernails. Lions had claws, didn’t they? She didn’t move.

  “Bogs!” Gus grabbed her hand and pumped it up and down.

  Alex’s teeth chattered as her whole body vibrated.

  “So, want to see some whales, eh?”

  “Whales?” Alex turned to her aunt. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Don’t be rude,” Aunt Sophie said. “Yes, Gus, we do, if you’ve got room.”

  “Yup, only two booked in ’cause of the weather lately—plenty of space.” He turned away and plunked a large travel mug on the counter. “Eva, fill ’er up with some tea, would ya? Normal leaded tea, now. None of that herb crap.” He bent down over the scones and sniffed. “And toss a couple of these biscuits in too.”

  “Crap indeed!” Eva muttered as she went about getting Gus’s order packed up.

  Alex trudged along behind Gus and Aunt Sophie as the three of them crossed the road and walked the short distance to the dock. She carried a paper bag filled with scones that Eva had insisted she take. “You’ll get hungry out there,” she had said.

  They passed fishing huts that extended out over the shoreline. The tiny buildings looked like old wooden garages on stilts, towering above the rocks. Their criss-crossed support beams were covered almost entirely with seaweed and barnacles. Alex was shocked. The tide didn’t go that high, did it?

  She trod carefully on the wharf where Gus’s boat was moored. The wooden planks were uneven and many didn’t seem to be nailed down. She almost fell twice when her loose sneakers caught on a beam that popped up when she stepped on it.

  Her heart beat faster and her footsteps slowed as she approached the boat, bobbing on the water. It was shiny and looked new. An older couple was standing there waiting. Alex’s attention was drawn back to the boat. She had never been on one that small before. The ferry had been bad enough, and it was much bigger.

  Her brother Adam’s teasing voice echoed in her head. Hey, wuss, you don’t swim so great, remember? Don’t fall in!

  She stumbled on the first step and froze, staring down at the dark water as it lapped between the vessel and the dock. Her breath caught in her throat.

  It seemed like a big gap to her—too big.

  Chapter Three

  “Time’s a-wastin’,” Gus said. “What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing.” Alex couldn’t stop staring down at the space between the boat and the dock. She felt dizzy. Was it getting wider? What if she slipped and fell in?

  “Bogs!” Gus said. His two plate-sized hands reached over, scooped her up, and plopped her down on the deck.

  “Don’t touch me!” Alex backed away from him. The deck moved beneath her feet and she wobbled slightly.

  “Haven’t got all day.” Gus gazed down at her for another second before turning and walking through the glassed-in cabin to an open door leading to the wheelhouse. Another, shorter, man was already at the controls.

  Aunt Sophie was babbling away with the older couple, oblivious to Alex’s plight. Some guardian she was. Lion man could have tossed her overboard. Alex spied the bright red life jackets and put one on. Her heartbeat slowly returned to normal. At least she wouldn’t drown.

  She retreated to the back of the boat and sat on the cushioned bench that lined the sides of the open deck. She pulled her bent legs into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on her knees and stared at the shimmering water.

  Soon they were chugging out of the harbour. Gus pointed to great blue herons perched in the trees along the shoreline. Alex had never seen one in real life, just on television. They looked like exotic birds from the Amazon rainforest.

  The waves got choppier as they rounded the lighthouse and headed into open water. It was colder, too. The life jacket didn’t do anything to stop the wind. Alex shivered and hugged her knees more tightly to her chest.

  “Give Alex one of my sweaters, would ya, Soph? There’s a stack over on the bench,” Gus bellowed from the wheelhouse. “Grab one for yourself too.”

  Did he have ESP? Alex wondered. Or maybe eyes in the back of his head? How did he know she was cold? She didn’t turn around as a knitted sweater was wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Put it on, it’ll keep you nice and toasty,” Aunt Sophie said. “Sorry, I forgot to bring jackets.”

  The sweater was scratchy against her arms, which made sense since it belonged to Gus, the lion man. Scratchy, like she imagined lion fur would be. She didn’t put it on but didn’t shrug it off, either. At least it was warm.

  Gus joined them on the open deck. “Got my nephew at the controls today. Susan, our biologist, is out sick, so you’re stuck with me.”

  The couple was asking Gus an endless stream of questions. What kind of whales would they see? What other wildlife? How long had he been doing this? What did he do when tourist season was over?

  Half listening, Alex learned that with luck they would see humpback, minke, and maybe fin whales. Sometimes, there were sightings of right whales, an endangered species. She also learned that Gus fished lobster in the off-tourist season.

  “Why are they called right whales?” the woman asked.

  Alex was wondering the same thing. It was kind of a weird name for a whale.

  “It’s sad, really,” Gus said. “Whalers way back in the day named them that because they were the ‘right’ whale to hunt. They swam slowly and close to the surface, so they were easy to harpoon. And, because they had a thick blubber layer, it made them float after they were killed.”

  “Oh my goodness, how horrible!” the woman exclaimed.

  Alex thought it was horrible too. Why did the whales do that? They should have been smart and swum faster and dove deeper. Then they wouldn’t have gotten killed.

  “Are you excited to see whales?” the woman asked her.

  Alex didn’t want to talk, but also didn’t want to be embarrassed again by having Aunt Sophie call her rude. “Not really.”

  “Oh.” The woman’s smile faltered slightly. “Why are you out here, then?”

  “My aunt made me come,” she said politely. Aunt Sophie frowned at her from across the deck, but didn’t say anything. Well, what could she say? It was the truth, and she hadn’t been rude.

  “I see.” The woman’s smile disappeared and she walked back over to stand beside Gus, resuming her questions.

  Happy to be left alone, Alex looked towards the water again and gasped—she couldn’t s
ee a thing. Fog had crept in from nowhere and cocooned them in a world of white.

  She heard Gus sigh at the same time the motor stopped. The boat drifted in silence. “Welcome to the Bay of Fundy!” he chuckled. “I had been hoping we would keep the sun, but apparently Mother Nature has other plans for us today.”

  “Do we get a refund?” the woman’s husband asked. “We were guaranteed to see whales. Who can see anything in this pea soup?”

  Gus didn’t get angry. Alex figured this must have happened before. “Don’t give up. We don’t use any fancy equipment or anything to find the whales. It’s just keen eyesight looking for blowholes on the horizon. When it’s sunny, that is. In the fog, we’ll have to use our ears. You can hear them when they blow.”

  The man frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding, right? Listen for whales on a whale watch?”

  Gus smiled again, but Alex noticed his lips were more pressed together. She wondered what lion man was like when he got mad.

  “We’ll go ahead slowly for a bit, then stop, and we’ll see what happens,” he said, pausing to yell the instructions to his nephew. “Be patient. The whales have a big bay to swim around in and we didn’t tie ’em up the last time we saw them. You never know where they’ll turn up. Besides, Bay of Fundy fog is a fickle lady—she could scurry off as quick as she came.”

  They cruised around for the next half hour, stopping every few minutes to listen for whale blows. Alex didn’t even know what the sound was supposed to be. Not that she could have heard anything anyway. The man was complaining more loudly by the minute about what a waste of money the trip was, and that they should have gone golfing in Digby instead.

  When the boat stopped again, Gus disappeared up to the viewing deck. Sophie and the woman were on the other side of the boat. No one was talking to the man, and he had gone into the sheltered cabin section of the boat and was reading a magazine.

  This stinks, Alex thought. Plus, she was freezing. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, she pulled Gus’s lion-fur sweater over her head. It fell below her knees and the arms drooped well past her hands. She rolled up the sleeves as best she could. Despite its scratchiness, the sweater was warm.