Free The Cay by Theodore Taylor

born. Or maybe a mother lizard washed ashore on driftwood during a storm.”
    Timothy was very impressed, and I felt good that I’d been able to tell him something.
    We found a lot to talk about.
    I think it was the fifth afternoon of this week that I blurted out to Timothy, “I’ll climb the palm now.”
    “Eh, Phill-eep,” he said, and I could almost see the grin on his face and the light in his eyes as he looked skyward. Greedily, I’m sure.
    He said, “Dere is one coconut tree ovah dere dat ’as a sway in ’is back like an ol’ horse. Dat is d’one to clim’.”
    I was trembling a little as he led me to the tree, telling me I should go up just a short way; climb it like a monkey. If I could do it, I was to come back down, put the knife between my teeth, and go up again.
    The trunk of this palm tree must have been about two feet in diameter because I could easily put my hands around to the back. I grasped it, hunched by body, placed my bare feet on the rough trunk, and began to climb. Timothy was probably holding his breath.
    I went up about ten feet and froze. I could not move up or down. My legs and arms were rigid.
    Timothy, standing below to catch me if I fell, called up softly, “Phill-eep, ’Tis no shame to ease your own self back downg to d’san’.”
    Slowly I began to back down along the trunk.The bark was rough against my hands and feet, but what I felt most was Timothy’s disappointment. I couldn’t have been more than a few feet off the ground when I took a deep breath and said to myself, If you fall, you’ll fall in sand.
    Then I started climbing again.
    Timothy called up, “You ’ave forgot d’knife.”
    I knew that if I stopped now, I’d never climb it. I didn’t answer him but kept my hands and feet moving steadily. Then I heard him shout, “You b’gettin’ to d’top.” Palm fronds brushed my head. I grasped the base of one to pull myself up. Timothy let out a roar of joy.
    Then he told me how to reach the coconuts. It took a long time to pull, tug, and twist two of them loose. But they finally fell. I stayed in the palm another few minutes to rest, then slid down. I had won.
    As my feet touched the ground, Timothy hugged me, yelling, “D’palm harass us no more.”
    We drank every drop of the coconut milk, and feasted on the fresh meat.
    Squatting near me, his teeth crunching the coconut, Timothy said, “You see, Phill-eep, you do not need d’eye now. You ’ave done widout d’eye what I couldn’t do wid my whole body.”
    It was almost as if I’d graduated from the survival course that Timothy had been putting me through since we had landed on the cay.
    It rained that night, a very soft rain. Not evenenough to drip through the palm frond roof. Timothy breathed softly beside me. I had now been with him every moment of the day and night for two months, but I had not seen him. I remembered that ugly welted face. But now, in my memory, it did not seem ugly at all. It seemed only kind and strong.
    I asked, “Timothy, are you still black?”
    His laughter filled the hut.

CHAPTER

Fourteen
    O NE VERY HOT MORNING in July, we were down on north beach where Timothy had found a patch of calico scallops not too far offshore. It was the hottest day we’d ever had on the cay. So hot that each breath felt like fire. And for once, the trade wind was not blowing. Nothing on the cay seemed to be moving.
    North beach was a very strange beach anyway. The sand on it felt coarser to my feet. Everything about it felt different, but that didn’t really makesense since it was only about a mile from south beach.
    Timothy explained, “D’nawth is alles d’bleak beach on any islan’,” but he couldn’t say why.
    He had just brought some calico scallops ashore when we heard the rifle shot. He came quickly to my side, saying, “Dat b’trouble.”
    Trouble? I thought it meant someone had found the cay. That wasn’t trouble. Excited, I asked, “Who’s shooting?”
    “D’sea,” he