Page 13 of The Curse Breaker

“It’s like writing an instant letter to someone,” Zara tried again as Benny looked frantic now. “Or you call. Like you dial a number, and the person you want to reach can hear you, but texts are easier.” Zara’s eyes lit up. “You’ll love it. Everyone our age does.”

“Why do you need so many ways to talk to someone?” Gil wondered aloud.

“WAIT. What day is it?” Benny had a wild, anxious look. “Kimble?”

Kimble ambled past them to the door. “How would I know?”

Zara and Benny looked at each other.

“Is something wrong?” Gil asked.

“What if we’ve been gone a really long time…like years?” Benny asked, the panic on her face visible as she went up to the large box on the wall that looked like a bright painting.

It was like real people were living in the box. Gil wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but he was drawn to it. “What is that?”

“TV!” Zara pulled Gil closer. “Wait till we show you some movies. Only the good ones. We can stream anything, but this is a news show. News Twelve. Tells us the forecast and the date…and Benny? It’s June twelfth. We’ve only been gone a few hours. All good.”

Benny clutched her chest and leaned against a wall. “For a minute there I thought we had a real problem.”

Gil couldn’t stop looking at the TV box. How did this person inside it know what the weather would be for the next seven days? She was showing a sort of calendar with images of clouds, sun, and thunderbolts over each day.

“The weather will be unsettled again this week, I’m afraid,” the woman said as if she were talking directly to them. “We can thank the Blood Orange Moon for that.”

The Blood Orange Moon. Gil felt his chest tighten. He’d heard the term before—from Sparrow, from Aggy…and someone else. What he remembered was that the Blood Orange Moon was a bad omen. How could it not be when this woman on the TV was showing moving paintings of fallen trees and destroyed boats washed up on land? What had happened here? What was flash flooding? The words kept moving near the bottom edge of the box.

“Wow, Greenport is a mess!” Zara said. “I’m surprised this place has power. Looks like a lot of the town is out. I bet they cancel the lighthouse fundraiser tonight. Grams is going to be so upset. On top of being mad that I didn’t come home last night.”

“My mom probably called the police,” Benny said, twisting her hands worriedly. “We should probably get home right away.” She looked at Gil. “We need to get Gil new clothes first so he can blend in, and after we do some apologizing, we can meet up at Evelyn’s and find the dragonfly.”

Evelyn. Sparrow. Another wave of sadness washed over him. How could his friend truly be gone? Benny put a hand on his arm.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Benny said, and Gil was close enough now he could see flecks of yellow in her brown eyes. “I’m sure you have a ton of questions, but first—”

A loud whistle startled all of them. It was Kimble’s doing. “But first, you kids play Evelyn’s game and get me that treasure.” He clapped his hands and waved them off. “Go!”

“Umm, you’re not helping us?” Zara asked, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, Evelyn gave you the note,” Benny pointed out. “You must know something.”

“You find the treasure she had in her possession, and I’ll work on hunting down the pieces I know that are out there. Now that the Blood Orange Moon is here, she can’t be far.” Kimble glanced out the window, and Benny could tell his mind was elsewhere. “If I find her, I find her treasure, or most of it, anyway. I know she has what else we need too.”

“Her?” Benny appeared confused. “Who do you mean? Is there someone else we need to worry about?”

Gil bit the inside of his cheek. Kimble couldn’t mean—

Kimble looked mildly uncomfortable. “Never mind who or what I am doing. You kids do your job. I’ll do mine. Get that clue.” The pirate pulled a case out of his pocket. It had a pocket watch inside. “What time will you be back?”

“I don’t know an exact time,” Benny said, getting frustrated. “Deciphering Evelyn’s clues could take a while, and the first clue leads to the next and then the next, and usually she hides more diary entries that explain what happened in eighteen twenty-five that led us all here.”

“Diaries?” Gil asked hopefully. “Can I read what Sparrow wrote? Did she write me anything?”

Benny’s face fell. “Nothing that we’ve found yet. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t write you something.”

“What are you waiting for then?” Kimble groused. “Get going and get back here.”

“He really is a crab,” Zara whispered to Gil. “That’s his nickname in town too—Ansel the Crab. But I guess I would be too if I was an immortal pirate who had lived in Greenport as long as he has.”

Gil still couldn’t believe the pirate was real. Or that he was cursed like the rest of them, but had somehow avoided being trapped on the island.