ElsBeth and the Call of the Castle Ghosties, Book III in the Cape Cod Witch Series. Chris Palmer
drops of seawater as she glanced around and announced, “I think we’re following the Gulf Stream north.”
Maybe worried that someone would make fun of her, she quickly continued. “Did you know Benjamin Franklin tried to get the English to use the Gulf Stream, after the Revolutionary War, to speed up mail ships from England to America?”
She got a few curious looks but no reply, so she answered herself. “Yes. American mail ships could save two weeks on each trip over to England — when they used water temperature, water color, and the speed that bubbles travelled in the water, in order to follow the Gulf Stream. They wanted to get their return mail from England faster, too.”
Veronica, who’d been staring at a broken fingernail, seemed to come back to life. ElsBeth knew Veronica liked history, and secretly liked science, and had really enjoyed the talk by the Environmental Scientist at the military base on the Cape last year.
It did seem odd, though, coming from Veronica, who pretended interest in nothing but fashion and boys, but the words “What do you think about using ocean energy to replace a lot of the oil we use?” escaped through her pretty mouth.
Lisa Lee looked at Veronica like a long lost sister. “My favorite subject.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose and began to explain the unique designs she’d come up with to use the tides for power.
So while serious science was discussed below the mainmast, ElsBeth worked her simple magic to keep the ship steady ... though this only made the Sea Charmer go faster.
They were heading up the New England coast, as far as she could tell, like a high-speed train but on the ocean — while the strange weather stayed right on top of them.
ElsBeth could feel the difference between magic and the “real world.” Magic didn’t use the same “real world” rules. Magic, ElsBeth knew perfectly well, had its own, simpler, more powerful rules, and you could feel the difference.
Magic was a little more alive than just “alive,” in her opinion. A little more exciting, sometimes even a little more dangerous. The natural world was beautiful, too, and had its own grace, but could seem, maybe, a little more … tame, more predictable, at least.
In any case ElsBeth was drawn to the magic of the wind. She let herself feel the wind all around her. She could tell the wind wasn’t evil. There was some evil connected with the storm, and some danger, but that was up ahead of them — and seemed to have more to do with “the land” than being at sea.
She could also feel that the storm was anchored to the yacht by a strong magnetic field. This did worry her, and worried her a lot. A magnetic field had its own complications.
She knew people would be searching for them soon, if they weren’t already. In these conditions, and with no communications equipment, she wasn’t sure even the Cape Cod Coast Guard could find them.
With the clouds overhead held tight to the yacht by the magnetic field, this magic had almost certainly made them ... invisible.
***
Hours passed, and it wasn’t as dangerous on deck now. With control of the ship apparently in other hands — though exactly whose hands was still a mystery — the Cape sailors began to get bored and hungry. Grandmother called this “the most dangerous combination.”
ElsBeth had already shared her sandwiches. The acorn butter with beach plum jam was popular. So was the cheddar cheese, garden tomato and sprouts her grandmother had made with her amazing oatmeal bread. But those were gone hours ago.
“I’m not going to share my food with you guys,” Hillman-Jones said, “especially you, Frankie. You had a backpack full this morning that looks completely empty to me.”
“I thought everybody brought food.” Frankie clearly felt bad but Hillman-Jones wasn’t going to make it easy for him. The most immediate danger, ElsBeth thought, might be a fight breaking out.
She had to raise their mood, and get attention off hungry bodies and the boredom of nothing to do — and get attention off the not-much-spoken-about but constant worry that their parents didn’t know where they were.
She said, “Maybe we should split up into watches and take turns handling the ship.”
“Yeah,” Nelson said. “When we go out for a week fishing we take four-hour watches. All the best crews do that.”
ElsBeth was about to volunteer when a head appeared from below. They all turned as Johnny stepped up on deck.
“Johnny, you’re OK.” ElsBeth was relieved, though he still looked pale.
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened. A big wave hit, and I held my breath as long as I could. The next thing I knew I was spitting up seawater all over Robert. Then I was out again.”
“Grandmother says when you’ve been through a lot you need to sleep, and most of the time that will get you better all by itself,” ElsBeth said.
“My mom says vitamin C will cure almost anything,” Veronica added.
ElsBeth agreed, but since they didn’t have any vitamin C she didn’t see how it helped any to say that.
“Ya ... so, are you guys assigning watches?” Johnny asked.
ElsBeth nodded. She knew Johnny didn’t like paying much attention to being sick or hurt. Johnny told her once what his grandfather said and that always worked for him, “Helping is the best medicine. If you don’t feel good you should go help someone and you’ll soon feel better.”
ElsBeth had tried that, and it worked for her, too.
“I can spell Robert at the wheel,” Johnny said.
Veronica patted her hair, which mysteriously looked perfect again despite the wind and spray that left everyone else looking like some kind of drowned animal. “I’ll take over after Johnny,” she said.
Amy, ElsBeth and Nelson agreed to take turns as lookouts — watching for land, boats or other obstacles.
Frankie was taking a long and necessary bathroom break after eating a full dozen whoopie pies and he temporarily missed out on an assignment.
“I don’t need to sleep much,” Lisa Lee said. “I’ll keep track of our location. We’ll need to know where we are when the wind dies down. And how we’re going to get back home.”
A problem, ElsBeth thought, that was getting more difficult by the hour.
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