Free Kyle's Island by Sally Derby

I’m-your-big-sister, let-me-tell-you-what-to-do attitude. This time I didn’t mind, though. We needed all the help we could get.

CHAPTER TEN
    I TAGGED ALONG WHEN VICKI and Andrea went up to talk to Mom, but they had even less luck than I’d had. They’d hardly begun to talk when Mom got up from her chair and put her hands on her hips. “I told Kyle, and now I’m telling you. I have to think. I know you don’t want the cottage torn down. I don’t either. But I have the responsibility of keeping this family afloat financially. You’ve let me know how you feel—now leave me alone for a while.”
    There are times when you can argue with Mom, and there are times you can’t. This was one of the second kind. Andrea bit her lip, Vicki shrugged, and I headed for the door and held it open for them. There was no point in talking anymore, so Vicki went back to her book, and Andrea said she thought she’d go hunt wildflowers to replace the wilted ones in the kitchen. I just sat down on the porch step.
    When Josh saw me there, he scrambled up the hill and sat beside me. “Want to kick the soccer ball?” he asked. “Like yesterday?”
    What I wanted to do was sulk in silence, but Josh looked so hopeful I hated to spoil his day as well as my own. “Let’s get the boat and give you a rowing lesson instead,” I answered.
    Instantly he was speeding down the steps. “Wait a minute,” I called. “Why don’t you put on your trunks? Maybe we can do a little swimming, too.”
    He stopped in his tracks, turned, and sped up the steps. You sure could tell he wanted to go. After we’d changed, I called into the kitchen, “Hey, Mom, I’m taking Josh rowing.”
    â€œWear your life jackets!” she called back.
    When I got to the bottom of the hill, Josh was already in the boat, sitting smack in the middle of the center seat. I lifted an eyebrow. (I’d practiced a long time to learn how to do that.) “You already know what to do?” I asked.
    â€œWell, sort of.”
    â€œGo ahead, then.” I climbed in and sat down in the stern.
    Josh put a hand on an oar. “You have to untie us first,” I reminded him.
    â€œOh, yeah.” Josh blushes easy. He used the rope to pull us over to the pier, undid the knot, and pushed us away.Then he pulled an oar out of the oarlock and started poling. The oar was big for him, and he stuck out his tongue in concentration, but he shoved us into open water pretty well. Then he sat back down and started to row.
    It was obvious pretty quickly that Josh’s right arm was stronger than his left. The boat was beginning to circle, so I showed him how you find a point and fix on it. That’s the only hard part of rowing, keeping the boat going straight. Well, I guess if you’re seven, rowing itself is hard. I’d forgotten. I’ll say this for Josh, he’s not a quitter. I let him follow the shoreline for fifteen minutes or so, then we switched. “Will you row us over to the island? Please?” Josh begged.
    â€œSure, if you want.”
    On the ride over Josh sat perfectly still, staring ahead at the island. Something about his bulky orange life jacket made him look skinnier than ever, and I reminded myself not to let him stay in the water so long that he got cold. I love lake weather, but it never gets hot here the way it does in Florida. Michigan always has a little chill in reserve, ready to throw at you.
    When we were close enough that the water was only a couple of feet deep, I asked, “Want to get out?” Josh didn’t bother to answer, just jumped over the side. I anchored the boat and got out, too.
    The lake bottom around the island is rough and stony. It doesn’t make for comfortable wading, but on the south side it slopes down so gradually that it’s a good place to practice swimming. That’s what I had in mind for Josh next. First,