Storm Warriors Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Elisa Carbone
been worth over ten thousand dollars. He hoped to get at least a hundred dollars out of the auction to bring back to the boat's owner.
Mr. Bowser told me that on a sunny day an auction easily turned into a picnic, but the rain didn't make good picnic weather. Fannie had stayed home to help her mother, whose foot was healing slowly, and Seabright hadn't been allowed to come in the rain, but William and Floyd were there. They sidled up to me, each of them holding a coat over his head.
“Nathan, can you get us in to see the beach cart and surfboat?” William whispered.
I frowned. “We're not supposed to go snooping around the boat room,” I said. “That equipment is for drills and rescues only.”
“Come on.” William gave me a little shove. “Everyone is busy here. No one will know. We just want to look.”
“Yeah,” said Floyd. “We'll be back before anyone sees we're gone.”
I shook my head, ready to object again. William looked at me scornfully. “I thought you did everything around here—help with rescues, eat with the surfmen, learn to swim in the heavy surf—and you're telling me you're not even allowed to
look
at the equipment while it's sitting in the station?”
I straightened my shoulders. “Oh, fine,” I said impatiently. “We can go, but just for a minute.”
We ran down the beach, through the cold, wet sand, to the station house. We were plenty far enough away from the auction that no one would see us. And because of the fog, the surfmen were walking patrols today rather than keeping watch from the lookout deck. The station house was deserted.
We walked up the boat ramp, and I unlatched the huge double doors and pulled on one. It slid aside with a loud creak. The three of us stepped inside the dimly lit boat room.
William ran his hand over the side of the surfboat. Floyd went to the beach cart and touched the sleek Lyle gun. I kept watch at the door.
“In a few years, this is where I'll be,” said William. “Doing drills, working the rescues—”
“That's if someone retires,” Floyd interrupted him.
“Half of them are old codgers,” William shot back. “Somebody will retire.”
“A few years after William joins the crew, I'll be old enough as well,” I announced.
They both looked at me. William scoffed. “Old enough for what? To pull in the nets for your daddy?”
I took a step toward him. “I
live
here.” I jabbed my finger into his ribs for emphasis. “I've already done a rescue. You've only
played
at rescues.”
William shoved me hard. “You're
nobody
. When me and Floyd are surfmen,
if
we let you, you can
help.
”
I shoved him back. “I'll be a surfman first. I'll be a higher rank than you.”
William grasped the front of my shirt and got up in my face. “Not on my grandfather's grave,” he hissed.
I jerked free, but wasn't prepared for what happened next. William took one step back, cocked his elbow, and slammed his fist into my face. Pain shot through my cheekbone and left eye. I staggered for just an instant, then swung and sent my own balled fist into William's jaw. He spat and I saw the blood dribble down his chin. Then he came at me again but collided with Floyd.
“Are you
crazy
?” Floyd stood between us, his eyes wild and scared. “Dorman Pugh is up the beach—he's coming back from patrol.”
We scrambled for the doorway. William and Floyd took off running. I slid the heavy door back into place, then jumped off the boat ramp and ran back to the auction, rain drenching my face and cooling my temper. William and Floyd had already rejoined their families, as if nothing had happened.
Before long, my cheekbone started to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. I decided to leave before anyone noticed the swelling.
Back at our cabin, I soaked a rag in cold water and held it to my face. Tomorrow I would have a shiner. What would I tell Daddy?
The door opened, and Grandpa walked in. “William's lip is still bleeding. I came to see how bad you
Mr. Bowser told me that on a sunny day an auction easily turned into a picnic, but the rain didn't make good picnic weather. Fannie had stayed home to help her mother, whose foot was healing slowly, and Seabright hadn't been allowed to come in the rain, but William and Floyd were there. They sidled up to me, each of them holding a coat over his head.
“Nathan, can you get us in to see the beach cart and surfboat?” William whispered.
I frowned. “We're not supposed to go snooping around the boat room,” I said. “That equipment is for drills and rescues only.”
“Come on.” William gave me a little shove. “Everyone is busy here. No one will know. We just want to look.”
“Yeah,” said Floyd. “We'll be back before anyone sees we're gone.”
I shook my head, ready to object again. William looked at me scornfully. “I thought you did everything around here—help with rescues, eat with the surfmen, learn to swim in the heavy surf—and you're telling me you're not even allowed to
look
at the equipment while it's sitting in the station?”
I straightened my shoulders. “Oh, fine,” I said impatiently. “We can go, but just for a minute.”
We ran down the beach, through the cold, wet sand, to the station house. We were plenty far enough away from the auction that no one would see us. And because of the fog, the surfmen were walking patrols today rather than keeping watch from the lookout deck. The station house was deserted.
We walked up the boat ramp, and I unlatched the huge double doors and pulled on one. It slid aside with a loud creak. The three of us stepped inside the dimly lit boat room.
William ran his hand over the side of the surfboat. Floyd went to the beach cart and touched the sleek Lyle gun. I kept watch at the door.
“In a few years, this is where I'll be,” said William. “Doing drills, working the rescues—”
“That's if someone retires,” Floyd interrupted him.
“Half of them are old codgers,” William shot back. “Somebody will retire.”
“A few years after William joins the crew, I'll be old enough as well,” I announced.
They both looked at me. William scoffed. “Old enough for what? To pull in the nets for your daddy?”
I took a step toward him. “I
live
here.” I jabbed my finger into his ribs for emphasis. “I've already done a rescue. You've only
played
at rescues.”
William shoved me hard. “You're
nobody
. When me and Floyd are surfmen,
if
we let you, you can
help.
”
I shoved him back. “I'll be a surfman first. I'll be a higher rank than you.”
William grasped the front of my shirt and got up in my face. “Not on my grandfather's grave,” he hissed.
I jerked free, but wasn't prepared for what happened next. William took one step back, cocked his elbow, and slammed his fist into my face. Pain shot through my cheekbone and left eye. I staggered for just an instant, then swung and sent my own balled fist into William's jaw. He spat and I saw the blood dribble down his chin. Then he came at me again but collided with Floyd.
“Are you
crazy
?” Floyd stood between us, his eyes wild and scared. “Dorman Pugh is up the beach—he's coming back from patrol.”
We scrambled for the doorway. William and Floyd took off running. I slid the heavy door back into place, then jumped off the boat ramp and ran back to the auction, rain drenching my face and cooling my temper. William and Floyd had already rejoined their families, as if nothing had happened.
Before long, my cheekbone started to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. I decided to leave before anyone noticed the swelling.
Back at our cabin, I soaked a rag in cold water and held it to my face. Tomorrow I would have a shiner. What would I tell Daddy?
The door opened, and Grandpa walked in. “William's lip is still bleeding. I came to see how bad you