Scar Island

Gerald stood alone, scratching at his neck and looking uncomfortable.

“Put this on!” Sebastian hollered, tossing Mr. Vander’s jacket to him. He ducked low and peered out the gate. “He’s almost here!”

“Man, I don’t know if I want to put on a dead guy’s coat.”

Sebastian shot him a dark look.

“Don’t put it on and you’ll be a dead guy. Do it. All you gotta do is stand here in the shadows. Big deal.”

Benny ran up huffing and puffing, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He tossed it on the ground at Sebastian’s feet.

Gerald grimaced and pulled the long coat on. He pinched it between his fingers like a dirty diaper. The bottom of the coat piled on the ground. Jonathan gave him an apologetic look and handed him the hat. Gerald closed his eyes and plopped it on his head. It dropped down onto his ears.

Sebastian stepped back to take a look at him. Behind them the sound of the boat got louder.

“Shoot!” Sebastian exclaimed. “We forgot the stool! You’re way too short!” He looked frantically around for something for Gerald to stand on.

Jonathan thought fast. He dropped to his hands and knees in the shadows just inside the gate.

“He can stand on me,” he said. “But make sure the coat covers me up.”

Sebastian pulled Gerald over and he stepped gingerly up onto Jonathan’s back. He was a lot heavier than Jonathan had expected. The hard stone blocks ground into his kneecaps. He felt Sebastian adjusting the long trench coat as best he could to cover him.

“Wait!” Gerald protested. “How am I gonna get the mailbag? And give him ours?”

Outside, the motor got louder, then quieter as the gas was cut back.

“Sebastian!” Jonathan hissed from the ground. “You do the bags. And try to stand between him and us!”

“All right.”

“What do I do if he talks to me?” Gerald asked, his voice high and fast.

“Just grunt,” Jonathan answered.

“He’s here,” Sebastian said. “Showtime.” Jonathan lowered his head and peeked out from beneath the coat.

The dingy metal boat was just pulling up to the algae-covered stone steps. It was the same boat that had dropped Jonathan off the day before, but this time, Patrick was alone.

“Hello, Mr. Vander!” Patrick shouted good-naturedly as the boat bumped up to the stairs. Gerald didn’t reply. Patrick leapt expertly out of the boat onto the steps, a rope tied to the boat in one hand and a canvas bag over his shoulder. Sebastian stepped down to meet him, the mailbag in his hand.

“I’ll trade ye,” Patrick said with a smile. Sebastian just held the bag out. Patrick shrugged and took it, then handed his own to Sebastian. “What’d ye do to get the supreme honor of being Mr. Vander’s little helper?” he asked with a wink.

Sebastian froze. “I … I … nothing.”

Jonathan winced from underneath Gerald.

Patrick squinted at Sebastian. “Ah. Well. Bet ye won’t be doin’ that again, now, will ye?” He looked past Sebastian, up to where Gerald stood atop Jonathan.

“How are ye there today, Mr. Vander?”

Gerald grunted. It sounded a little high and nervous to Jonathan. But Patrick only nodded and smiled with half his mouth. “Good to hear it.”

They all stood for a moment looking at each other.

Patrick cocked an eyebrow.

“Well,” he said. “Guess I best be off. Can’t stand here jabbering with ye all day, Mr. Vander.” He raised one hand to his forehead in a little salute and then waved. “Give me best to the Admiral, won’t ye?”

Gerald grunted again.

Patrick laughed and hopped into the boat. Looking back over his shoulder, he threw the boat into reverse and receded slowly away against the incoming waves.

All three boys watched him, holding their breath. When he was far enough out, Patrick whipped the boat around and gunned it, chugging toward the mainland. He didn’t look back.

Sebastian turned and walked up the stairs, a triumphant sneer on his face. “Nothing to it,” he said. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

Gerald hopped down from Jonathan’s back and tore the coat off like it was crawling with spiders. He threw the hat down on top of it.

“I’m never doing that again!” he cried.

Sebastian snorted and swung the big wooden door closed. “Yeah, you are. Mail comes tomorrow, too, you know.” Gerald’s shoulders slumped.

All the other boys were gathering around them. The rain had mostly stopped.

Sebastian stood shoulder to shoulder with Jonathan. He still had the cocky smile on his face.

“Well, boys, here we are,” he said. “Got the place all to ourselves. You’re welcome.”

They all stood looking at one another. A seagull shrieked from the top of the wall above them.

“Well, then,” Francis said, clearing his throat. “What should we do now?”

Sebastian looked at Jonathan and smiled, then looked back at the circle of questioning faces.

“Whatever the hell we want,” he said, and his grin widened even more. He cracked his knuckles and started walking through the circle, toward the door to the main building across the courtyard.

“Uh, Thebathtian?” Colin called after him, stopping him in mid-step. “What about the bodieth?”



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