Captain Crabbe shrugs. “It came with the boat.”
I pull on the iron bars of one locked door. “Where are the keys?”
The captain looks at Walleye, who lets his gaze slide to the floor. “Dunno,” he admits. “Scuttle was the last one who had ’em.”
“Scuttle!” Captain Crabbe yells.
The second mate comes out of the galley, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Ye called?”
“Where are the keys to the cells?”
“I keep ’em in the cookie jar,” he says. “Just wait here a minute.” Scuttle disappears into the kitchen again, and we hear banging and rattling and a gigantic crash. “I’m fine!” he yells, and a moment later he comes back with a small ceramic container. He empties the contents on a rough wooden table: a dozen stale hardtack crackers filled with mealworms that I can actually see moving, and a single brass key.
Scuttle presents the key to the captain, who hands it to me. I open the cell on the left and Jules and I crowd inside. It’s barely big enough for one person, much less two, and we have to dance around each other as we pull loose boards and kick at the dirt on the floor. Jules turns to me, and I can feel her breath on my neck. I can’t help but think of how close we are, even though that’s the last thing I’m supposed to be focusing on.
“Looks like there’s nothing here,” Jules says. “Should we try the other one?”
I grab the key with the Latin inscription and wiggle it into the lock. When the tumblers turn, all the hair stands up on the back of my neck.
This is it.
For a moment, I hesitate. What if, the minute I open this door, Jules disappears just as suddenly as she arrived? What if the best thing that’s happened to me since I’ve been here vanishes before I get a chance to really know her?
“What are youwaitingfor?” Jules asks, and she shoves past me and pushes open the barred iron door.
I draw in my breath, expecting the worst to happen.
Except, it doesn’t.
Jules stands in the middle of the cell, rattling the bars. “Looks like this one’s a dud too.”
Captain Crabbe draws himself up. Just one glance and his two crewmates scatter above deck. We follow and stand at a distance below the sail, watching the fireworks between them ignite.
“Do either of ye two numbskulls care to tell me how our key wound up on the bottom of the ocean floor?” the captain yells.
Scuttle and Walleye exchange a glance—well, as best they can, since Walleye’s gaze goes in two different directions. “Well, Cap’n, it’s like this. . . .” Scuttle swallows hard. “We dropped it in the ocean.”
Captain Crabbe sighs. “Do ye ken how hard it is to find decent help around here?” he mutters. “Now that wehavethekey, perhaps we should test it by lockin’ the both of ye up for a few hours.”
“We didn’t mean to,” Scuttle says.
“Aye,” Walleye agrees. “We just wanted to see if it would float.”
As they bicker, I spot Everafter Beach gleaming in the moonlight a few hundred yards away. I nudge Jules with my shoulder. “Feel like a swim?” I murmur, crawling onto the ship’s gunwale and holding out my hand.
She grabs it so I can pull her up beside me. “I thought you’d never ask,” Jules says, and together, we jump.
It is a longer swim than I thought. By the time we reach the beach, we’re both out of breath. Jules rolls onto her back, letting the surf wash around her, too tired to inch her way to a drier spot. I lie with my cheek pressed into a scallop shell.
“Why didn’t you just ask that pirate to drop us off?” Jules pants.
“Mmmmpht thkkkng,”I say, my mouth full of sand.
It takes me a few minutes to catch my breath, and when I do, I get to my feet and walk to higher ground, sinking down on the beach. I grab a chunk of coral curved like a candy cane. “A perfectJ.”
“Huh?” Jules has come to sit beside me.
“My mom and I used to walk the beach on Cape Cod, looking for coral shaped likeEs andJs.” I toss it to her. “Jfor Jules.”
