“H-E-L-P … DA-A-D … HE-E-L-P!”
Far away, his father stood up and looked in Sam’s direction. Sam jumped up and down, waving his arms wildly. His poor foot landed on more sharp things, but Sam barely noticed. Dad gestured and waved back. Sam stopped jumping and listened hard.
“Sta-a-y put, Sam. I’ll go get he-e-l-p!”
Sam picked up his digging spade and his clam and climbed higher onto the little island. The water was still rising all around him. He sat down in the long yellow grass. His bare foot was icy cold and was bleeding where the broken shells and the barnacles had sliced the skin.
Neptune flopped at his side and put her head on his knee. Sam watched the tiny figure of his dad hurriedly gather up the clamming gear and run for his pickup. The truck, so small it looked like a toy, raced up the beach and disappeared into the woods.
Sam stood and turned in a slow circle. It seemed like just minutes ago that the whole bay was one big beach. Now there was water everywhere! The current swirled as the tide rushed in, carrying a mess of brown seaweed and smooth driftwood.
Sam wondered how high the water would rise.
Would it cover the top of the little island before Dad could bring help?
Sam’s Rescue
Sam felt his insides squeeze in panic. Then he remembered how to read the high-tide line. Dad taught him once when they were fishing in the bay.
Sam stretched out on his stomach and leaned over the edge of the island. He peered down at the ledge below, and there, halfway up, was a scummy green line. Below that line, the rocks were dark with algae from the sea water. Above the line, the rocks were pale gray.
Sam was pretty sure he would be safe here even at the highest tide. At least he hoped so. He sat back down in the grass, hugging his knees to his chest, and shivered. He had gotten pretty wet digging up that clam and his bare foot was aching from the cold. He shivered again, and pulled Neptune close. Overhead an eagle hung in the sky. As it flew beneath the weak spring sun, its shadow washed over Sam. It made him feel even colder, and very alone.
Sam’s stomach growled … loudly. Neptune pricked her ears and cocked her head at him. What I wouldn’t give for one of those peanut butter cookies, thought Sam.
Then a new worry began to gnaw at him.
He had disobeyed his father!
He went beyond the big rock and didn’t pay attention to the tide. Worse, he lost a brand new boot, not to mention a bucket!
I’ll bet Dad is furious, thought Sam. I’ll probably be grounded…forever!
Then new worries crept into Sam’s head. Maybe Dad drove too fast and the truck ran off the road! Maybe he couldn’t find a boat at the dock! Sam was getting hungrier and colder by the minute.
Neptune bolted up and stared intently past Sam. Straining, Sam could hear the faint drone of an engine. He jumped up, but his sore foot made him sit right back down.
“Hooray! Here comes Dad!” cried Sam.
He watched and listened, but the noise flew overhead. It belonged to a little plane. Maybe it was Mom, and she didn’t even know he was stranded down here. Tears welled in Sam’s eyes, and he rubbed them away with his fist.
“I will never, ever disobey Dad again,” vowed Sam, “…if only … if only …”
Then, the whine of another engine caught his ear. Slowly, it grew louder and louder as Sam stared harder and harder out at Jakolof Bay. Then, there it was! In the distance, a skiff was heading toward the little island. As it got closer, he could make out two figures.
One of them was Dad!
The engine changed to a lower pitch and the boat slowed. Dad’s face was a mixture of anger, worry, and relief, but he threw Sam a grin.
“Someone here call for a taxi?” called out Gil Chambers, who was driving the boat.
Sam 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