Page 23 of The Curse Breaker

“Your friends are on the island?” she asked sharply. “Why? How did they get there?”

“There was a sandbar,” I whispered but couldn’t go on. If what Kimble said was true, I would never see Aggy again. The island wouldn’t return in my lifetime. Saying those words out loud to a stranger seemed deranged. What if Charlotte told my mother?

“Why aren’t you with your friends?” Charlotte asked, somewhat impatiently.

Aggy. Gil. Laurel and Thomas. They were my life. Had I saved them or doomed them? Now, I wasn’t sure. “It’s a long story you don’t want to hear.” My voice was shaky.

“Dear, what I do have is an abundance of is time.” She hooked her arm through mine. “Why don’t we walk back the way we came, and you tell me everything?”

I hesitated. Aggy had said to trust no one. I barely knew Charlotte.

She forced me to look at her. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’ve done. I’m a great listener, and I won’t judge. I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet myself.”

I didn’t know that phrase. A roll of thunder rumbled in the distance. I couldn’t tell if a new storm was starting or one was ending. The wind that had been so fierce subsided a bit and, I thought I could hear whispers. Was it the island again? Welcome, Evelyn Terry! Welcome! Was Charlotte right? Was the island still here? “Alright. I’ll tell you what I know,” I agreed.

She offered me her arm again and we walked back. Quickly, I understood how Mama had fallen under her spell. Charlotte spoke with an authority I wasn’t used to women having. “You’re not going to ask for permission to skip your chores in the morning,” Charlotte instructed me. And she was amusing too. When I hinted at having a fondness for Gil, she said, “Don’t be a coquette. Men should have to work for our attention, dear.” I liked how she called me dear. I felt older. I found myself hanging on her every word. When she asked how I found the island, I told her how I’d found the treasure and taken coins to save my friends. When I broke down, she hugged me. I felt like I was with my mother. It only occurred to me later that she told me nothing about herself.

Finally, she spoke. “Where is this man—this Kimble as you call him—now?”

“I don’t know. He was angry and ran off when the island disappeared.”

She smiled. “Fool. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my tears stopping at once.

Charlotte held my gaze. “I suspect this island plays games, much like you and I do, Evelyn Terry. And if I’m right, it’s still there and, whether you can see it or not, you can still get on it. You just need to know where to look.”

Eight

Gil

Present Day

“Gil, you genius! You found the dragonfly!” Zara held up her hand, and Gil blinked. The girl took his palm and slapped it with her own. “It’s called a high five.”

“High five.” Gil needed to remember to ask both girls for pen, ink, and paper so he could begin writing down vocabulary words and definitions.

“How did you spot it?” asked Benny, pulling back her hair with a hair tie. He could see the gears turning in her head. Sparrow was like that too. Always thinking of something or trying to work out a tricky problem without asking for help.

Gil felt his face burn. “I wanted to go in and use the privy and the light switch, so I was going to knock to be let into the house by Mr. Wally when I spotted it.” He knew it was improper to discuss the “necessary,” but when Zara had explained people didn’t use privies or chamber pots anymore and showed him the indoor privy, he’d been fascinated. The light switch—instant lamplight!—was incredible too.

“When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go,” Zara joked.

Gil felt strange discussing this topic. “The plaque is so close to the house’s entrance. It is as if the dragonfly was hiding in plain sight.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what Evelyn was hoping would happen,” Benny traced the raised gold image of the dragonfly on the plaque. It was black with gold lettering and trim, the gold insect centered on the bottom. A weathered screw at each corner—four in total—anchored the plaque in place. The gold was starting to turn green after so much time spent outside.

Gil touched the plaque too, wondering if Evelyn herself had placed it on this house. She was handy that way. “The plaque says 1836. Is that the year Sparrow built this place?”

“I believe so,” Benny said. “She raised her family here and turned it into an inn.”

Gil felt his insides wobble. It was strange to think of Evelyn growing up, having children, a family and life that he wasn’t a part of. But then he remembered Benny. She was a part of Evelyn, so in a way, she lived on, didn’t she? I will miss you forever, and I promise you will never be forgotten, he said to himself, hoping wherever Evelyn was now, she could hear him.

“This could be original,” Zara noted. “See how the screws are corroded? And how the plaque is made of cast metal? That’s what most historic plaques are made of. I should know, since Grams is the one who commissions them for houses in Greenport.”

Benny tried to pry the plaque loose, but it didn’t budge. “We’re going to need a screwdriver.”

“A turnscrew? I’ll get one,” Gil said, hoping to be helpful. “Shall I ask Wally?”