The superintendent’s voice snapped Tim out of his thoughts. “And now, it’s my pleasure to invite Ranger Scout Johnson to join me. If it weren’t for this ranger, one of the NPS’s best, the gold might never have been found.”
The crowd broke into polite applause as Scout walked to the front, steady and composed. Only for a split second did she falter—right as she passed her parents. Tim spotted her father and assumed the poised woman beside him was her mother. Put her in a ranger uniform, and she and Scout could pass for sisters. Though, watching her, she sure didn’t seem like the type who’d wear one.
Frankie cupped his mouth like a megaphone. “Way to go, Scout!”
Tim elbowed him and reminded him to be quiet, but Frankie had never been good at quiet.
As the superintendent announced the monetary value of the gold—and that the park would be receiving it, and that Ranger Scout Johnson would be given a finder’s fee—Frankie let out a whoop that made half the heads in the crowd turn. “That’s AWESOME! I already put a down payment on a kayak.”
Tim shot him a look of pure disgust.
Scout turned to face the crowd and stepped up to the microphone. She started with the usual thanks, her voice steady and polite, but Tim could hear the effort in her tone. Then she paused, just long enough for Tim to lean forward slightly. “I sincerely appreciate this finder’s fee,” she said, her voice clear and deliberate, “but the gold on that ship was originally intended for the Penobscot Nation by the US government. So, in that spirit, I am givin’ my finder’s fee to the Penobscot Nation.”
The crowd went utterly silent, as if someone had hit the mute button. Tim watched the superintendent’s face freeze into a practiced smile, her jaw tightening just slightly.
“Aww, man,” Frankie groaned, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Tim jabbed him again with his elbow. “Don’t miss the bigger picture, kiddo.”
Scout stepped back from the microphone, her face calm but determined. As she walked back to where she’d been standing, Tim caught her eye and mouthed a silent “bravo.” He knew that decision had cost her, but it had also earned her something far greater. To him, Ranger Scout Johnson was a hero.
Maisie leaned against the counter in Pops’s cramped living quarters, watching as couples paired up and left. First wentPops and Rebecca, heading off to Stewman’s, Rebecca promising they’d bring back dessert. Then Frankie’s dad invited her mom out to dinner, which Maisie tried very hard not to think about. Too weird.
Frankie’s dad, who was a very nice guy considering he was a big shot in the NPS, hesitated in the doorway. “You sure you two don’t wanna come with us?”
“Nah, you go,” Frankie said, leaning back against the counter like he had nowhere in the world to be. “Maisie and I can grab something.” He held out his palm expectantly.
His dad sighed but dropped a couple of twenties into it before pointing a finger at him. “I want change from that.”
“No promises,” Frankie said with a grin. “Let’s go, kid.”
“I’mnota kid,” Maisie said, under her breath. Why bother saying it louder? Frankie wasn’t listening.
If Pops’s story about Rebecca Woodbine had taught her anything, it was that Frankie wasn’t going to reallyseeher until the time was right. “‘To all things there is a season,’” Pops had said. “‘A time for everything.’”
She hoped he was right.
They ended up at a tiny diner near the docks, the kind of place where everything smelled faintly of fried food and the napkin dispensers were always half empty. It wasn’t exactly the romantic dinner Maisie had once dreamed of, but it wasn’t terrible.
Frankie ordered fried clams for himself and a hot dog for her and fries to share. She was actually kind of pleased that he’d remembered she is allergic to shellfish. And, for once, while they waited for their food, Frankie wasn’t scrolling on his phone, ignoring her.
“So,” Maisie said, “pretty slick move by Scout today, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Frankie said, glancing up at the waitressas she set down their food between them. “Kinda bummed about my kayak, though. But I talked my dad into letting me take scuba diving lessons. Gonna get certified in time for the big dive.”
Maisie tried a couple of french fries. “What’s the big dive?”
In the middle of thumping the bottom of a ketchup bottle, Frankie shot her a look like she’d just asked what a car was. “The USSNorth Atlantic. Dr. Johnson’s got an exploration planned. Guess he does this kind of thing all the time. Pretty cool for an old geezer.”
Maisie froze mid-chew, caught between a rush of envy that she wasn’t included and a sense of relief to be excluded. Diving around a shipwreck sounded really ... creepy. “Since they’ve got the gold, why would they want to go exploring? I thought people only did that if they were after buried treasure.”
“Nah, it’s not just about the gold,” he said. “Sure, treasure hunters want treasure. But Dr. Johnson isn’t that kind of dude. The USSNorth Atlantic’s, like, a piece of history. Been sitting there, buried under the ocean for—what—almost a hundred and seventy years? He said the dive is mostly so he can examine how ships were made back then. It’s like time froze. There’s stuff down there nobody’s seen in ages.”
“Sure hope you don’t come across any human remains.”
“Aww, man. I hope for sure we will.”
Gag. She’d been kidding. The greasy french fries sat heavy in her stomach.
