Free Storm Tide by Kari Jones Page B

this thought. Is this person trying to avoid us?
    My good mood about the day evaporates.
    It sure is windy now. There are whitecaps in the strait, and on the rocky side of the headland, spray spews off the rocks with every wave. There are even ruffles in the bay. With every gust of wind, a shrub near the tower rubs against the wall, making a sound like chalk on a blackboard. I shiver.
    What if the owner of the tent got caught out in the strait when the wind came up? They’d be in big trouble now. I walk back to the tent and call out again.
    â€œHello. Anyone here?” I really hope someone is hiding in the trees and is going to answer. There’s no answer. I turn around and head back home, worrying about the wind. What if someone is in trouble? What will we do? This is not how I planned to spend my day. Even though I hate to do it, I’m going to have to see what Ellen thinks about this.
    As soon as I’m close to the house, I yell “Ellen!” as loudly as I can to be heard over the wind.
    â€œI’m right here. You don’t have to yell,” she says from the kitchen doorway.
    â€œI need you to come. I saw a tent and called out, but there was no answer. Someone may be in trouble.”
    She gives me a don’t-make-fun-of-serious-things look and turns back to the kitchen, but I grab at her sleeve. “Ellen, remember, we’re keepers today. Someone might need our help.”
    She looks into my eyes, checking that I’m not teasing her, then says, “For once you’re right. We should look. Just give me a second. I’ll get a sweater.”
    When Ellen is in her room, the VHF radio cackles.
    â€œDiscovery Light, Discovery Light, this is Discovery Keeper. Over.
    It’s Dad. I pick up the receiver and say, “This is Discovery Light. Hey, Dad. Over.”
    â€œSimon, I’m glad we got you.” Dad’s voice cracks over the line. “The wind has picked up quite a bit here. We’ll be delayed coming home. We may be quite late. Is everything okay? Over.”
    I consider telling Dad what’s going on, but I don’t want to worry him. It’s probably nothing anyway. I’m sure the person camped by the lighthouse is just a hiker passing through.
    â€œSure,” I say. “Everything is okay. Over.”

Chapter Three
    Ellen stands right where the tent had been not five minutes ago and stares at me. “Weirdo,” she says.
    I have to admit, she’s got a point. There’s no tent here. Was I dreaming? I don’t think so. I could swear there was a tent parked here just a few minutes ago. Didn’t I shout out?
    â€œIt was here. It was. I’ll prove it to you.”
    â€œSure,” snaps Ellen. “You’re just doing this to get back at me about the chores. I know you.” She’s ready to stomp off back to the house, but I know the truth. Now I’m spooked. Disappearing muddy footprints are one thing. A disappearing tent is another.
    â€œIt was here. Really. Wait! Ellen, let me prove it to you.”
    I swivel my head around. There must be some evidence a tent was here a few minutes ago. The grass is chewed up from us walking over it every day, so I can’t see exactly where the tent was. But there must be some way to prove I’m not going crazy or trying to get back at her.
    The truth is, I’m beginning to wonder. Am I going crazy? What about the footprints? Same thing, I think. First they were there, and then they just…weren’t. I need to prove that the tent was there. For myself, not just Ellen.
    I get down onto my hands and knees and crawl around. Ellen stands with her arms crossed over her chest and glares at me. Her hair whips across her face in the wind, but she doesn’t move. Any second now, she is going to say hmph and leave, but there must be something here. Something. If a person that messy had to pack up that quickly, they must have left something on the ground.
    I