was so happy he wanted to cry.
Gil brought the boat around to the sloping side of the island as Neptune barked and wriggled in greeting. Dad hooked one leg over the side of the boat, hopped out, and waded onto the beach. His strong arms swooped down and gathered up Sam. Neptune leaped into the boat, skidding across the wooden seat. Gil shifted into reverse and backed the boat away from the island.
Dad rumpled Sam’s hair and kissed the top of his head. Sometimes Sam felt like kisses were for little kids, but not today. He nestled against Dad’s chest. He was glad they hadn’t brought Melody.
“Sam, what happened to your boot?” asked Dad.
Oh yeah, thought Sam, his happiness ebbing away. The boot.
“It got stuck in the mud and the water came in and I couldn’t move and I pulled as hard as I could and my foot flew out and the boot stayed stuck,” explained Sam, all in one breath.
Dad was puzzled. “What in the world were you doing way out there? I told you not to go past the big rock.”
Sam hung his head and stared at the floor of the skiff.
“I saw this big clam squirt and so I ran to dig it up. You wouldn’t believe it, Dad. It’s huge …”
Suddenly Sam realized that he had forgotten the clam and his spade back on the island!
Oh, no! thought Sam. All that digging and freezing to death for nothing!
Rescue of the Clam
The awful look on Sam’s face told Dad everything. The two men exchanged glances. Gil winked at Sam, turned the skiff around in a tight arc, and headed back toward the little island.
“Thanks, Gil. We owe you one,” Dad said with a sigh. He seemed about as tired as Sam.
Gil cut the engine and tilted up the outboard motor to clear submerged rocks as they drifted up to the island’s beach again. Dad jumped out and pulled the bow of the boat onto the sand.
“Stay here, Sam. I’ll find them,” he said.
From the skiff, Sam directed his father to the yellow grass at the top of the island. Dad quickly found the digging spade and the prized clam. He returned to the boat and pushed off. Gil started the engine with a single sharp pull of the cord.
Dad held up the muddy clam and stared at it, as if it were the clam’s fault all this had happened. Then he lowered the clam over the side of the boat and into the water.
Was Dad going to drop the clam back into the bay? Was that going to be Sam’s punishment?
When Dad’s hand came back up with the big white clam still in it, Sam realized he was just rinsing it off. Phew! Sam tried not to crack a smile. He knew he was still in big trouble.
Dad pulled a wool mitten from his coat pocket and carefully slipped it over Sam’s foot. It felt scratchy, but warm.
Gil nosed the skiff up to the Jakolof dock and Dad climbed out to tie the bowline. Gil cut the engine and tied up the stern. Melody stood on the dock with her arms folded, looking down at Sam. He couldn’t meet her eyes. He just KNEW she’d make some smarty-pants remark.
“Thanks again, Gil,” said Dad, “I’m glad you were here.”
Gil grinned, “I was ready for a break anyhow, Wally. Happy to help.”
Gil paused from lighting his pipe. “Sam, do you think I could take one more look at that giant clam of yours?”
“Sure,” said Sam. He looked at Dad, who reached into the pocket of his coat. Out came the clam. Even in Dad’s big hand, it still looked huge.
“Wow!” exclaimed Melody. “That’s the biggest clam I’ve ever seen!”
Sam smiled to himself. She must have forgotten her claim that ALL the clams in Jakolof Bay were puny!
Dad reached his big hand into the skiff and pulled Sam onto the dock. Then he crouched down.
“Climb up on my back, Sam,” he advised. “You shouldn’t walk on that foot.”
“So long, Gil,” Sam called as they headed up the dock. “And thanks … for everything.”
Gil lifted a hand in salute. Dad opened the door of the truck and deposited Sam on the seat. The truck was warm from sitting in the sun, and suddenly Sam felt very sleepy.
Grime and Punishment
Sam slept all the way back to Seldovia. He slept as they passed the islands and MacDonald Spit. He slept as they passed the eagle’s nest and Dark Creek Canyon. He even slept as they passed the airstrip, now busy with planes taking off and landing.
Then something shook him awake.
“Come on, Sam. Climb aboard. We’re home.”
Sleepily, he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck as he was carried into the house.
At the sight of his mother frowning in the kitchen, Sam finally woke up.
She’d ground him for sure!
But Mom didn’t say much. She dragged a dining room chair in for him to sit on and fussed over his foot. Dad brought in an old washtub that Mom filled with warm water and Epsom salts.
“Put that foot in here, Sam, and don’t you move it an inch. Do you understand?”
Sam nodded solemnly. He stared at the water as the grime and sand melted off his foot.
“I’m going outside to help your father unload the truck.”
Great, thought Sam. They’re going to figure out some horrible punishment for me.
Sam stared into the washtub. His foot stung and throbbed all at the same time. He hadn’t realized how sharp those clamshells and barnacles could be.
The kitchen door opened and Mom and Dad came in with the bucket of clams.
Uh-oh, here it comes, thought Sam.
“Your father and I have decided …”
Now, I’m really in for it.
“… that your sore foot should slow you down long enough to think about your disobedience,”
