Free Island of Fog (Book 1) by Keith Robinson

Abigail would be there, hanging around and giggling while Hal was examined all over . . .
    He shuddered and hoped the sludge would help clear up the problem.
    His dad returned home an hour later. “Been planting onions and cloves,” he said in a cheerful booming voice. “Every year I think it’s not going to work, we’re going to get a frost this winter . . . and it never happens. This fog never ceases to amaze me—keeps the winters mild and the summers comfortable. Come spring we’ll have another good crop.”
    Dinner was served and the three of them dug in hungrily, with no sound but the crackling fire and the gentle clash of silverware on plates. It was a good ten minutes before Hal sighed and looked longingly at the remaining slice of bread in the basket. Could he manage another piece?
    “So what have you been up to today, Hal?” his dad asked between mouthfuls.
    The question seemed innocent, but Hal felt a surge of guilt. “Oh, nothing much. Went down to the docks.” He liked to stick to the truth wherever he could, and simply leave out important details rather than lie.
    “You didn’t go in the water, did you?”
    “No, too cold,” Hal said. It was true—he
hadn’t
gone in the water, just floated on the surface. “Hey, Dad?”
    His mom rolled her eyes. “Watch out, George, he’s asking a lot of questions tonight.”
    Hal ignored her. “Is there really a sea serpent?”
    “Oh yes, of course,” his dad said, nodding. He narrowed his eyes, swallowed a mouthful without chewing it up, and shot Hal a stern look. “So you’d better not be thinking of swimming out too far, or it’ll eat you up in one bite. You know the rules, Hal. Stay near the pier.”
    Hal nodded, reaching for the bread even though he wasn’t sure he wanted it. It was a way of diverting attention from his face, which had heated up. “Yeah, I know the rules. I was just curious. I mean . . . why is it there? Has it always been there?”
    “What, the pier?”
    “No, Dad—the sea serpent.”
    His mom pushed her plate back and spoke first. “To tell you the truth, Hal, it’s a good thing the serpent is there. It protects us from the people on the mainland.”
    Hal hadn’t thought of it that way. “So there are definitely still people Out There?” he asked.
    His parents looked at one another in silence.
    “If you can call them that,” his mom said. She pulled at the scrunchy in her hair and shook her head so that her locks tumbled free around her shoulders. She seemed deep in thought. “Hal, you’ll be thirteen this year. I understand that you’re curious to know your origins . . . curious to learn about the big wide world. But
you
have to understand that you’re here on this island because the alternative is too . . . too horrible to imagine. There’s no life Out There for us.”
    Hal opened his mouth to ask another question, but his mom held up her hand. “No more, Hal. No more questions. I’ve said enough already.”
    No you haven’t
, Hal thought. But he sighed and slumped back in his chair.
    “However . . .” his mom said quietly.
    Another silence fell, and Hal frowned. Something was in the air. “Mom?”
    “You don’t want that bread, do you?” his dad asked, and plucked it off Hal’s plate. He crammed it into his mouth and chewed with his mouth open and head down.
    His wife shot him a look. Then she took a deep breath and turned back to Hal. “You’ll have a visitor on Monday.”
    Hal frowned. “What do you mean?”
    “A visitor. At school. Mrs. Hunter won’t be in on Monday. Someone else will be there instead.”
    “Is Mrs. Hunter sick?”
    “No, it’s nothing like that.”
    More silence, apart from the sound of Hal’s dad swallowing bread. He had crumbs in his beard. “So she’s having a break?” Hal guessed. “Who’s replacing her? Darcy’s mom again?”
    “No,” his mom said. “This isn’t anyone you know. It’s someone else, a visitor. She’ll be taking your class for a few days,