the voyage.
Captain James Whittaker
Monday morning I woke feeling queasy — almost like I was seasick. When I rolled out of bed I forgot I was on the sofa and landed on the floor with a loud thunk. Mom poked her head into the living room.
“You okay, kiddo?”
“Groannnnn! Other than the fact that my back hurts from this coil in the sofa poking me all night, and cramps in my legs from not being able to stretch them out, and an upset stomach — I guess you could say I’m hunky-dory.”
“Good. I left cereal on the table for you. I’m just going to dive into the shower and when I’m finished you can have the bathroom. Okay?” I nodded sleepily and was about to get back under the covers. Wait — did she say “dive”? I sat up abruptly, forgetting all my aches and pains.
“Yahoo! I start diving lessons today.” Mom’s head shot around the corner.
“What? Did you say you’re starting diving lessons today?” Oh right, I’d decided to put off telling her yesterday about the start date to avoid setting Aunt Margaret off again … who for some reason was determined now that I take Aunt Beatrix off her hands every day. “Sorry Mom, the plan changed a bit. TB has something he has to do later in the month so we had to start this week. My lessons are at four o’clock.” Mom plunked down on the sofa looking dazed.
“I’m sorry I won’t be able to entertain Aunt Beatrix after school today. It’s just too bad she has to leave next weekend. I was starting to enjoy getting to know her.”
“Really? Well, I’m glad you feel that way. I did notice how well the two of you get on.” Was she blind? It was just out of necessity that I let the old bird boss me around and teach me useless stuff like table setting. But soon she’d be gone and I’d be off the hook. I began folding up the sleeping bag.
“Actually, Peggy, yours aren’t the only plans that have changed. You know how Aunt Margaret and Uncle Stewart have been thinking of taking that Caribbean cruise for a long time, but the timing just never seemed right? Well, they are finally doing it … and they leave this Saturday for three weeks.”
“This Saturday? That’s great,” I chirped. Now I knew why she was so busy and stressed lately. Then I realized three weeks without Aunt Margaret on my heels would be like having my own holiday.
“Yes, it is great. They so deserve something like this after all they’ve done for us. And the reason we all feel so free about them going is knowing you won’t be home alone waiting for me to get back from work.”
“Right, because I’ll be taking scuba diving lessons.”
“Actually, no, it’s because Aunt Beatrix has agreed to stay on.” I jumped off the seat and hit my knee on the coffee table.
“Ouch!” I yelped. “Mom, what were you thinking? I don’t need a babysitter.” How could they think I needed looking after — and of all people they chose the Grim Reaper of children? “I repeat, Mom, what were you thinking?”
“You just said how it was too bad she wasn’t staying longer. And besides, it’s not all about you. She’ll be able to get the meals started, keep Duff company, and be here if you should — as completely unlikely as it could be — get into trouble and need help. And on the bright side, you’ll have scuba lessons to focus on and you’ll get your room back after Aunt Beatrix moves into Margaret’s room.”
The bright side, right! How was I ever going to survive another month with the only person in the world more uptight than Aunt Margaret? This is exactly the kind of thing that could give a kid nightmares or a nervous tick. Just then I remembered the trip to find the Intrepid. School would be finished and maybe if I just played along with all this I’d have a better chance of getting Mom’s permission to go with Dr. Hunter and his research team. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then quickly shifted gears.
“Okay, Mom. That’s cool.” I could tell my sudden change of attitude surprised her.
“It’s cool? Well, good. Quite honestly I thought you’d put up more of a fuss, but I guess this means you’re growing up, and getting more mature.”
“Sure, that’s it, Mom. I’m just getting more mature.”
Chapter Four
TB got the okay to start scuba lessons with me. So the plan was for me to stop off at home after school to say hello to Aunt Beatrix for five minutes — Mom’s idea, not mine — and then ride to the pool with him. But when Mrs. Sparrow kept me in to discuss my poor score on the English test I had to let him go ahead on his own and skip going home. By the time I got there the other students were already in their gear and sitting on the edge of the pool. As I walked over to the group I heard a voice from somewhere in my past. I couldn’t quite place it until I saw him.
“No, it can’t be,” I cursed. By the look on TB’s face he knew what I meant. Just then the diving instructor looked up at me. Yup, it was none other than the face of Vic Torino, a.k.a. the Tornado, my sailing instructor from last summer. He hadn’t changed a bit — still tall, skinny, and tanned so dark and shiny he looked like an oily hot dog fresh off the BBQ.
“Late for the first class, eh? Not a good sign, man. You know what they say about punctuality — it’s the early worm that catches the bird.” A few of the students tittered. I looked at TB, who was doing his best to muffle his laughter.
“Don’t you mean it’s the early bird who catches the worm?” I answered, trying not to laugh myself.
“Well, whatever, it’s a virtue to be on time, right?”
“True, but you know what they also say — better late than never.” I could see he was trying to add that one up.
“Yah, that’s true, man. Hey, you took sailing lessons with me last summer, right?” I nodded guiltily. “You see, I never forget a face. Never forget a name either — it’s Patsy, right? No, Pammy. No wait, I know it’s …”
“It’s Peggy,” I asserted, ending the familiar and slow torture.
“Oh yah, Penny.” Argh! Well at least he didn’t call me Piggy like my bratty little cousins did. “Well girl, don’t just stand there. Go and get suited up and we’ll see you back here in the pool.” I skulked off, glad to be out of the spotlight.
Before we actually got in the pool Tornado gave us the rundown on what we would learn in the PADI diving course. We were going to learn safety procedures — like how to check all our gauges, how to get water out of our masks, buoyancy control, how to make a safe descent and ascent, and some emergency skills like sharing air with a dive partner. He said after two weeks in the pool we’d be ready for our first supervised open-water dive. That was the part I was most excited about.
“Okay, newbies, let’s get in the pool and I’ll go over proper buoyancy control and the four main points on your personal dive list — depth, air, time, and area. We call that your DATA. Some people write it on their hands so they don’t forget. Me — I’ve got a mind like a steel trap — never forget a thing.… Right, Pammy? I mean Patty!” Oh brother, what a doorknob!
That first day I felt like a stuffed sausage in my wet suit, but it wasn’t long before it started to feel more like a second skin. And with help from my flippers I loved the
