The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons Read Online Free PDF Page B

came clearly into view—Marni, Pru, and Walter, taken aback, but seemingly unharmed. The waves crashed below in a steady rhythm, and visions of our bodies being tossed against the rocky crag stole my breath away—the Simmons family curse, of course, once again nearly claiming me for the sea. I felt the familiar steely resolve rise in me. I wouldn’t let Mother and Father down. No. I’d figure out how to find the treasure my great-grandfather had stolen, and somehow satisfy the conditions the wicked Mary Maude Lee had set forth. Then I’d make a pilgrimage back to Maine, to the place our home had once stood—this in memory of Mother and Father.
    â€œThank God, you’re safe!” Pru threw her arms about me, and in a moment we four were locked in a single embrace, Pugsley yapping in circles around us.
    â€œDo you realize how close . . . ?” Walter began.
    Marni silenced him with a slight wave of her hand. “Close, perhaps, but safe nevertheless. This Irish fog is unpredictably dangerous.”
    â€œI told ye, didn’t I, but not a one of ye’s took me serious!” We turned to find Grady on the path, Rosie wagging her tail beside him. “I heard the Grey Man’s steps, felt him suckin’ the air outta the fog like he does. And I seen the bunch of ye fools settin’ out, payin’ no heed whatever. And now that ye seen ’is devilish handiwork firsthand ye won’t be so quick to discredit me!” As if in response, the sound of the surf pounded against the rocks below. Grady jutted out his whiskery chin. “Could’ve taken ye’s fer a swim, he coulda—last swim ye’d ever take, I daresay.”
    â€œI’d assert,” Marni said, “after all the time you’ve spent aboard ship as our first mate, braving raging seas and roiling oceans—all of that has earned our respect. You do yourself credit, and we’re grateful. Whether fog or the Grey Man, next time we’ll pay you more heed.”
    â€œHmph,” he grunted. “Then ye’s won’t give me no lip about followin’ me back to the cottage.”
    â€œWe were just . . . ,” Walter began. Grady silenced him with a sharp look.
    â€œPlenty a time fer whatever yer schemin’. Been here but an afternoon ’n’ already ye git yerselves in trouble. Fact is, it’s me mam’s summoned ye’s back.”
    â€œWhat for?” Pru asked.
    Grady had already turned on his heel. A brisk wind snatched his words and tossed them back at us. “A message. Says she has a message from the beyond.”

5
    A deep fatigue grabbed hold of me as we walked back toward the cottage. The day had felt never ending. Finally, the sun was dropping, the sky hanging over the sea striped in brilliant shades of blue, orange, and lavender, turning the distant hills to gold. Grady saw me stifle a yawn. “Dang fools fer settin’ out at this hour. Almost nine o’clock now. I’m ready t’ turn in meself.”
    Seamus sat outside Miss Oonagh’s cottage whittling a chunk of wood in the dusky light. He handled the knife nimbly, a whorl of shavings curling from the blade. He looked up. “’Fraid the moment’s passed. Hope ye didn’t rush much.”
    Grady glared at him. “What’re ye sayin’?”
    â€œMiss Oonagh. She’s . . . well . . . she’s gone off again, she has. Sorry to say.”
    â€œWe’ll see fer ourselves, thank ye,” Grady growled. “Be off with ye now.” Grumbling, he pushed the cottage door open. “Thinks he knows everythin’ . . .” Seamus stood to leave. “T’morrow’s another day, it ’tis!” He caught my eye and winked. Walter put his hand on the small of my back and shepherded me inside.
    It was hard to make out the huddled form of Miss Oonagh slumped in the chair beside what was left of the