The Secret of the Sand Castle (5 page)

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wouldn’t have told it to you,” Pauline commented.

“Oh, she is. She knows everybody’s business. I don’t believe half of what she says. It’s enough to scare anybody just to stand here and think of it.

Shall we go in?”

“Why not?” Judy replied. “Do you have the key?” Irene took it from her pocketbook and inserted it in the lock. The others, following her up the private boardwalk to the cottage, noticed that it had double doors.

“Like a barn,” Pauline remarked.

“It’s as cold as a barn in here, too,” Flo agreed as they entered. “It didn’t seem so cold outside but in here—
brrrr!”

“I’m cold too,” little Judy agreed. “It was warmer in the wagon with the coats on top of me.”

“We’ll have a fire in just a minute,” Irene told them. “See, there’s plenty of driftwood piled up here beside the stove. And there’s an old packing box filled with excelsior to start the fire. I wonder what was in it.”

“Dishes, probably. These look like new dishes on the shelves.”

Judy was exploring the cottage, finding much to wonder about. On one side there was a big bedroom too far from the stove to receive any of its warmth.

Irene said this was the summer dormitory. Beyond it was the back porch with screens all around and 40

overhead. The double doors that opened onto the porch were decorated with a huge, painted lemon tree.

The combination living-and-dining room with the big pot-bellied stove in the corner was more cheerful and homelike. The dining area had cubbyholes all over. Pauline and Flo amused themselves by counting them to see who could spot the most. It was little Judy who pointed out the odd circular staircase that went up to the tower room.

“It’s just her size,” Irene said with a laugh. “Each step hides a little cubbyhole. Grownups have to duck their heads when they reach the top. I learned that to my sorrow.”

“Did you put up the sign?” Judy asked.

It was a picture of a duck with the words “Low Bridge” printed underneath.

“Yes,” Irene laughed, “after I’d cracked my head a couple of times. It came out of one of little Judy’s coloring books. Like it?”

“Love it!” all three girls exclaimed.

It did not take them long to fall in love with the whole cottage, especially the tower room. Judy entered it first and found three beds as high as the windows on three sides of the room.

“Will you look at the view?” she exclaimed.

“That’s the ocean out there and we’re practically on top of it.”

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“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Pauline agreed. “From this window you can see all the walks and cottages for miles around. Isn’t that a lighthouse in the distance?”

“It certainly is,” agreed Judy. “It must be the one Irene was trying to show me when we were on the boat. Beyond Saltaire, she said.”

“Ocean Beach is in the other direction. It’s the biggest of the towns on Fire Island, but it doesn’t look very big from here,” Flo observed from her position on one of the beds.

“Don’t you wish we could stay all night and sleep here?” Judy asked suddenly. “Just think how bright the stars must be from this window. I’d like to see the light in the lighthouse, too. The sun’s so bright now it doesn’t show.”

“Look how calm the ocean is! You can hardly see the waves. I wonder if it’s warm enough for a swim.

Irene!” Flo called downstairs. “Hand up my bag, will you? I think I’ll put on my bathing suit.”

“Better put a heavy sweater over it,” Irene advised. “The sun may be warm but I’ll bet the ocean is like ice. That surf can be very treacherous.”

“What surf?” asked Pauline. “Those waves are just lapping the shore as gently as a kitten drinking milk. I’m going to put on my suit, too. What about you, Judy?”

“I might as well,” she agreed, abandoning the 42

idea of digging for treasure. It was little Judy who reminded her of it, a few minutes later.

“You promised,” she said, appearing with a shovel and a pail. She held them up to show Judy that she was all ready for a treasure hunt.

“Where did you find those things?” Irene asked.

“In one of the cubbyholes,” the child answered, wide-eyed. “What’s the matter, Mommy? Don’t you want me to dig?”

“Oh, I guess it’s all right,” Irene conceded. “I’ll watch her from the window while I fix lunch. You girls run on down to the beach and enjoy yourselves.

While you’re there you may as well gather a little driftwood for the fire. The cottage is nice and warm now, and I would like to keep it that way until we leave.”

“When are we leaving?” Judy wanted to know.

She hoped it wouldn’t be before she had a chance to do a little treasure hunting herself.

“We ought to start down to the boat about a quarter to five, maybe earlier. I think it leaves the dock at five o’clock,” Irene replied uncertainly.

“Aren’t you sure?”

All three girls asked this question.

Apparently Irene wasn’t sure. She hadn’t asked the captain about the boat schedule. Judy reminded her of his question, “You stayin’ awhile?”

“And you said, ‘Yes, at the Sand Castle,’ “ she 43

added with sudden misgivings.

“You may get your wish yet, Judy,” Pauline told her. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if you were watching the stars from that tower room. I’m sure the captain thought we were staying overnight.”

“There is another boat in the morning, isn’t there?” Judy asked.

“No, I don’t believe there is. The schedule changes in September or October. If you see anyone on the beach you might ask about it,” Irene suggested.

“It’s a little late to be asking questions,” Flo grumbled as they started off. “Suppose there isn’t another boat! What’ll my boss say if I don’t show up for work in the morning? I’ll bet I can’t even call in to the office from this deserted island.” 44

“IT is really a deserted island, isn’t it?” Judy exclaimed.

They had reached the end of the boardwalk.

Wooden steps went down to a sand dune ridged with a line of driftwood, seaweed, and shells that had been washed up from the ocean bottom.

“You can see how rough the waves are sometimes,” Flo pointed out.

“But not today,” Pauline replied.

She still insisted that the sound of the waves reminded her of a kitten lapping milk. It grew louder as they came nearer. After climbing down the em-bankment of sand, the three girls found themselves on a smooth beach that stretched for miles. Not a living thing was to be seen except a few gulls flying over the water. Their mournful screeching and the endless pounding of the waves against the shore were the only sounds to be heard.

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“Those waves look bigger the closer we get to them,” observed Flo. “Colder, too. It’s a good thing Irene warned us to put our sweaters on over our suits. Do you still want to go in?”

“Not me,” Judy said with a glance toward the’

foaming surf. “I’d rather stay on the beach and gather shells. If we take some of them back to the Sand Castle maybe we can interest little Judy in building something with them.”

“Why?” asked Pauline teasingly. “So she’ll let you have the shovel? Judy, I believe you’re after that woman’s jewels.”

“What woman?” she asked, not greatly interested.

“Irene admitted it might be only a story. Let’s forget it and enjoy all this.”

Judy turned to face the wide expanse of ocean.

White-capped waves rolled in and broke against the beach, endlessly, it seemed. The sound grew louder as a sharp wind came up and more whitecaps appeared on the waves. The water took on a greenish hue as the sun was suddenly hidden by a dark cloud.

“The ocean is growling now. Hear it?” asked Pauline.

“I’m afraid your kitten has turned into a tiger,” agreed Flo. “Those waves aren’t gently lapping the beach any more. They’re pounding it.”

“Biting it is more like it. Makes me think of a 46

Haiku poem I read once in a college paper,” Pauline said.

“Ocean bites the shore;

Chews and swallows. Then returns

To partake of more.”

Judy was not sure she liked the poem. She had not attended college as these other two girls had.

Instead, she had graduated from business school, worked a little as Peter’s secretary, and then married him. She never regretted her marriage, but sometimes she did regret her lack of education.

There was so much she wanted to know.

“What is a Haiku poem?” she asked.

“It’s a Japanese form,” Pauline explained, “but anyone who can feel the wonder of nature and express it in three lines can write it.”

“I couldn’t. It’s not my style,” Flo said.

“You did finish college, didn’t you?” asked Judy.

Flo laughed and answered as she usually did with another question. “Does anyone ever finish? Education doesn’t stop with college. We’re learning something this very minute, just standing here watching the ocean.”

“Something about infinity,” agreed Pauline.

“That’s a mathematical term, but it can be religious, too. Doesn’t it make you think of church? World without end, and all that?”

“And without beginning,” Judy added. “Can you 47

imagine a time when this ocean wasn’t here? I can’t.

Maybe I
would
like to wade in the surf, just to see how it feels.”

“It’ll feel cold, I can tell you that much, but let’s go in, anyway,” Flo suggested.

Quickly the girls slipped off their shoes, which already were filled with sand, and approached the water. The sand was wet and cool with an occasional sharp shell to be avoided or gathered as part of their treasure hunt. The three girls waded in and felt the chill of the ocean water.

“It is cold!” Judy exclaimed. “We won’t stay in long.”

“Just a minute more.”

“Watch out!” Pauline warned them as Flo pulled Judy forward. “There’s a big wave coming—” The warning came too late. The big wave was followed by another and another. The waves brought driftwood with them. A sharp piece hit Judy’s ankle at the same time still another wave nearly engulfed her. Flo kept her from falling and Pauline, in turn, grabbed Flo’s hand and dragged both girls out of the water.

“It’s freezing!” they said in the same breath.

“Well, now that we know how it feels, shall we gather some of this driftwood and go back to the cottage?” Pauline asked.

“We may as well. The exercise will warm us up,” 48

Flo agreed.

Judy was already busy gathering driftwood.

Where it all came from, she couldn’t imagine. She picked up a few pretty shells, too, and put them in the deep pocket of her sweater. It was a warm one that Grandma Dobbs had knit out of fine wool, but still it did not keep her from shivering.

“It’s the wind. It wasn’t blowing like this when we came down here. I’m cold, too,” Flo admitted.

“The fire will feel good when we get back to the Sand Castle. Do you think we have enough driftwood?”

“Not quite. Here’s an odd-shaped piece,” Judy said. She picked it up and looked at it more closely.

“Come here and see what I’ve found! Isn’t this a figurehead or something from a ship?” The other two, their arms full of driftwood, were at her side in a moment. Judy untwined some of the seaweed that had wrapped itself around the stick of wood, and a woman’s face appeared. It was beautifully carved with an expression that was halfway between a smile and a frown.

“Lady Luck!” Flo exclaimed, naming her instantly.

Pauline was silent, studying the chiseled face.

“She looks the way you did when you were gazing out at the ocean and talking about infinity,” Judy told her. “She has your profile.” 49

“Can’t you just imagine her looking out from the prow of some ancient ship?” asked Flo. “I wonder how old she is.”

“Don’t you know better than to try to guess a woman’s age, Flo?” Pauline said. “She’s ageless, like the ocean. What are you going to do with her, Judy?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe Irene will have some ideas.

She probably has lunch ready by now. I’m starved, aren’t you?”

“Famished,” both girls agreed.

They started toward the Sand Castle, each with her arms filled with driftwood. Judy placed the figurehead on top of her pile of wood.

“Don’t you dare let Irene put our wooden lady in the fire,” Flo warned her. “You know, a figurehead is supposed to bring luck to a ship. That’s why I named her Lady Luck.”

“What kind of luck?” Pauline asked teasingly. “It could be either good or bad. She probably came off some wreck, and if we keep her she may bring the same misfortune to us. I wish you hadn’t said she looked like me, Judy.”

“Well, she does,” Judy insisted. “I guess you can stand it if I can stand having a hurricane named after me. It wasn’t really called hurricane Judy, of course, Hazel Barton just named it Judy for the want of anything else to call it. Can you imagine a hurricane 50

destroying more than half the cottages on this island? I wonder if hurricanes come up suddenly.”

“Like now?” Flo put in. “The sky is getting dark and you can hear the wind whipping up the waves.” But Judy was listening to something else.

“It’s someone hammering,” she exclaimed as she stood listening at the top of the wooden steps leading to Birch Walk. “A carpenter must be at work somewhere near by. Let’s find him and ask when the boat leaves.”