Entry 12
The woman standing on the beach looked familiar. Long hair the color of copper, big brown eyes that took up half her heart-shaped face. She wore a calico dress that looked suspiciously like the one my mother had just finished sewing.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Evelyn.” The woman stepped out of the seagrass.
Evelyn.
I think using my name was meant to reassure me that she did, indeed, know me. She was much younger than my mother, but still an elder, so I minded my manners.
“It’s alright, ma’am.” I glanced quickly in the direction of the brush Kimble had disappeared through only minutes before. I needed to go after him. Where was the island? Where was Aggy?
“We met the other day.” The woman inched closer. She didn’t flinch when thunder rumbled overhead. “On your porch? I’m Charlotte Cuthbert.” She placed a hand on her chest, and I recognized the large green ring on her index finger. I didn’t see a wedding band.
“Oh!” I said, remembering now “Yes. Good evening, Mrs. Cuthbert.”
“Please, don’t be so formal, Evelyn,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Call me Charlotte. Your mother isn’t here.”
Charlotte. Was that her name? It sounded odd to my ear.
Regardless, calling an adult by their first name was considered disrespectful.
At least that’s what Mama and Papa taught us.
It made me wonder where Mrs. Cuthbert—I mean, Charlotte—was originally from.
Mama and Papa also taught my brothers and me not to stare.
It was rude, but I couldn’t help but look at Charlotte’s bare feet.
Her toenails were painted a shiny red hue.
I blushed at the sight of them. We’d once seen a woman in Greenport with her nails painted, and Mother said it was improper. I thought the look was glamorous.
“You needed someone for child minding,” I recalled.
A look of confusion crossed Charlotte’s face, but then she smiled. “Yes. That’s right. For our daughter. Virginia.”
I was not used to watching smaller children, but Mother had offered me up quickly the other day.
I knew she was thinking ahead to a time when I’d be a mother.
I was only twelve, and I hated when she mentioned Axel’s name.
A Rudd alliance would be good for us, she’d once said.
I’d turned to her, thinking of my fondness for Gil, and declared, The Terrys will be the name people remember.
Not the Rudds. Papa laughed, but Mother looked livid.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky. “I should really go before it rains,” I said, hoping that would be enough to end this conversation. What was Charlotte doing out on a night like this?
“Yes, the storm,” Charlotte murmured. “That’s why I walked down to the beach. I couldn’t miss my chance to see the Blood Orange Moon.”
My stomach tightened at mention of the celestial event. It wasn’t unusual for people to talk about the Blood Orange Moon—even the Greenport Herald had written about it—but knowing what I knew now of its connection to the treasure, everything felt different.
I looked out at the water in desperation, hoping I’d see the island again.
I didn’t. Aggy, where are you? “Yes, well, now that it’s over, we should probably get inside,” I pressed.
How had she even found this small stretch of sand?
I was the one that spotted it a few weeks ago when I found the island.
But now, the sandbar I’d run across countless times was gone.
Charlotte studied me. “The Blood Orange Moon’s effects could last a fortnight. At least, that’s what I read in the Farmer’s Annual,” she added quickly.
“My papa swears by that book,” I said, digging my toes into the wet sand. Please leave, Charlotte. Maybe I could head in Kimble’s direction after Charlotte left. “Well, I should get home. Good night Mrs.—Charlotte.” I began to walk away.
“Do you hear it too?” she blurted. “The island? Calling to you?”
I froze. “What did you say?”
Charlotte stepped toward me, her eyes holding a bit of fear and wonder in them at the same time. “The island speaks to me,” she said softly. “And I suspect you too. Can you hear it?”
I was afraid to answer her. I wrapped my cold, wet arms around me.
“I can hear it calling to me,” she continued. “Welcome, Charlotte Cuthbert. Welcome!”
I bit down on my lower lip and drew blood. “That’s what it says to me too.”
Charlotte beamed, rushing forward and grabbing my hands. “I knew there had to be a reason you were here! You’ve seen the island, haven’t you?” Her eyes seemed to glow.
“Yes,” I said, a feeling of hope washing over me. Here I’d thought the island was my secret place with my friends. Charlotte was proof that others who could see the island too, even if Papa couldn’t. Maybe that meant there was hope to save my friends yet.
Charlotte’s brown eyes widened. “Have you been?”
“Yes,” I said again, remembering the warmth of the sun on my face. The cool ocean breeze making the palm trees, so out of the norm for Long Island, sway. The fort that appeared as if by magic when I heard the treasure calling my name. “Several times.”
Charlotte looked toward the water again.
“I’ve wanted to find the island so many times, but when my husband said there was no island out there, I was afraid I was mad with fever.
I don’t have the Cough,” she said hurriedly.
“But I started to believe I might be delusional. But I know it’s real.
” She nodded to the water with her chin. “I see it. As plain as day.”
“You can see it right this instant?” I looked back again, hoping the island, Aggy, and the others had returned to me. But all I saw was a dark, angry sea.
Charlotte frowned. “Why yes. Can’t you?” She let go of my hand and used hers to point. The large gem on her finger sparkled in the light of the lantern at my feet. “It’s there!”
A tear trickled down my cheek. Why had the island hidden itself from me? “I can’t see it anymore. I did before you arrived, and now... It’s gone, and my friends are trapped on it.”
“Your friends are on the island?” she asked sharply. “Why? How did they get there?”
“There was a sandbar,” I whispered but couldn’t go on. If what Kimble said was true, I would never see Aggy again. The island wouldn’t return in my lifetime. Saying those words out loud to a stranger seemed deranged. What if Charlotte told my mother?
“Why aren’t you with your friends?” Charlotte asked, somewhat impatiently.
Aggy. Gil. Laurel and Thomas. They were my life. Had I saved them or doomed them? Now, I wasn’t sure. “It’s a long story you don’t want to hear.” My voice was shaky.
“Dear, what I do have is an abundance of is time.” She hooked her arm through mine. “Why don’t we walk back the way we came, and you tell me everything?”
I hesitated. Aggy had said to trust no one. I barely knew Charlotte.
She forced me to look at her. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’ve done. I’m a great listener, and I won’t judge. I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet myself.”
I didn’t know that phrase. A roll of thunder rumbled in the distance.
I couldn’t tell if a new storm was starting or one was ending.
The wind that had been so fierce subsided a bit and, I thought I could hear whispers.
Was it the island again? Welcome, Evelyn Terry!
Welcome! Was Charlotte right? Was the island still here?
“Alright. I’ll tell you what I know,” I agreed.
She offered me her arm again and we walked back.
Quickly, I understood how Mama had fallen under her spell.
Charlotte spoke with an authority I wasn’t used to women having.
“You’re not going to ask for permission to skip your chores in the morning,” Charlotte instructed me.
And she was amusing too. When I hinted at having a fondness for Gil, she said, “Don’t be a coquette.
Men should have to work for our attention, dear.
” I liked how she called me dear. I felt older.
I found myself hanging on her every word.
When she asked how I found the island, I told her how I’d found the treasure and taken coins to save my friends.
When I broke down, she hugged me. I felt like I was with my mother.
It only occurred to me later that she told me nothing about herself.
Finally, she spoke. “Where is this man—this Kimble as you call him—now?”
“I don’t know. He was angry and ran off when the island disappeared.”
She smiled. “Fool. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my tears stopping at once.
Charlotte held my gaze. “I suspect this island plays games, much like you and I do, Evelyn Terry. And if I’m right, it’s still there and, whether you can see it or not, you can still get on it. You just need to know where to look.”