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“Okay,” said Mr. Adler, after they’d parked the car and gotten out at the marina. “The boat is called the Cassandra, and she’s the one with—”
“The giant lake monster painted on the side?” asked Ollie, pointing.
“Um,” said Mr. Adler, staring. “Um, yup. That looks like the one.”
Brian followed the direction of Ollie’s finger. He saw a big boat, white except for the smiling green dinosaur with flippers. The dinosaur was eating what looked like an ice cream cone. Over the picture in big letters were the words MEET CHAMP.
On the stern was painted the boat’s name, Cassandra. There were two people on deck. One of them was a man that Brian had never seen before. He was wearing a flannel shirt under a green jacket, with a knit beanie and gray hair sticking out from under it. Brian supposed that he was Mr. Dimmonds, the owner of the boat.
The other person was Phil.
Brian and Phil saw each other. They both stopped dead in surprise.
Mr. Adler was marching ahead, wearing his own beanie (that he’d knitted himself) in every color of the rainbow. He was loaded down with coolers. “Hello!” he called.
“?’Lo,” said Mr. Dimmonds, in a thick Vermont accent. “Pleased to meetcher.”
Coco’s mom said, “Mr. Dimmonds? I’m Zelda Zintner. Sent by—”
“Know who you are,” said Mr. Dimmonds. “Gonna ask me questions, aren’tcher? This is my nephew Phil.”
“Of course we know Phil!” said Mr. Adler happily. “I didn’t know you were related. Hi, Phil.”
“Hi, Mr. Adler,” said Phil. He was looking uneasy. Like he wasn’t sure if he was happy to see them.
“How long have you had your tour boat, Mr. Dimmonds?” asked Ms. Zintner. She’d already pulled out a little reporter’s notebook, ready to scribble.
Mr. Adler started hauling all the coolers onto the boat. “Watch your step, guys,” he called back over his shoulder. Although she climbed like a cat, Coco could be unbelievably clumsy on the ground.
“?’Bout twenty years,” said Mr. Dimmonds. “You kids ready to see the beastie today?”
“Champ, you mean?” asked Ms. Zintner. She was scribbling notes, with an eyebrow raised.
“Champ, yup,” said Mr. Dimmonds. “Silly name for an old thing like her.”
“She might be a boy,” pointed out Ollie.
There was a twinkle in Mr. Dimmonds’s eyes. “She might indeed, little lady, but I guess it’s hard to know. Come aboard, and I’ll tell you about it and show you round the Cassie.” At Ms. Zintner’s puzzled look, he added, “The Cassandra! My pride and joy.” He patted the boat’s mast.
“Eeek!” yelped Coco, and Mr. Adler lunged just in time to keep Coco and the bag of sandwiches from going into the lake. Coco, Brian noticed, had been watching Phil and not looking where she was going. She obviously still wanted to ask questions.
But Phil doesn’t remember. It was just dreams. He said so.
Yeah, so? another part of himself said. He might have been lying. How many times have you fibbed this winter? About what happened, about what you are doing or plan to do?
Brian belatedly realized that if you told a lot of lies, even if it was for a good reason, like trying to keep people safe, it started to get hard to trust that other people were telling the truth.
He felt a jab of hatred for the smiling man. Hanging around somewhere in the dark, frightening them with stupid riddles written on black spots and ruining their lives for fun.
Well, he can’t ruin anything today, Brian thought.
They piled onto the boat. Coco was still eyeing Phil. Phil looked nervous. Coco looked distracted. Ollie and her dad had to rescue Coco and the snacks multiple times from oblivion.
The Cassandra was a thirty-foot sailboat. The deck was white, the railings white too, with storage lockers along the sides and two inflatable lifeboats. The wheel was near the back, and Brian itched to touch it.
A mast soared over his head.
Suddenly Brian made a decision and veered straight over to Phil. He was tired of being awkward. It felt like letting the smiling man win. “Hey, dude,” he said firmly. “Awesome to see you.”
