The Island of Dragons (Rockpools Book 4) by Gregg Dunnett (best books for 7th graders .txt) 📕

smile. Quickly I turn and jog up the metal ramp onto the ferry, my footsteps ringing out. As I step off into the hull of the ferry, they unlatch it and the walkway drops away, held up by steel cables from a crane overhead. Already we’re moving. Only then do I hear Dad’s voice behind me.

“Billy!” He shouts, he looks a little desperate all of a sudden, like it’s suddenly gotten too much for him. He shouts something else, but I can’t hear it with the judder of the ship’s massive engines. Dad cups his hands round his mouth and tries again.

“Keys!” he yells, then makes an ignition-turning motion with his hands. I clamp my hand against my pocket, and feel his truck and house keys are still there. But by now the ramp is gone completely, and already the distance between the ferry and the dockside is widening. If I take Dad’s keys with me he’ll be stuck here, unable to get home. I pull my hand behind me to throw them across, but I don’t do it. What happens if I miss? They’ll fall into the swirling water beneath us, no one’s ever going to get them out of there, and anyway they’re not waterproof, they have a battery so you can zap the truck. Maybe I could zap it from here, and unlock and Dad could at least wait inside for a locksmith… Suddenly the ferry lets out a blast from its horn and it jumps me out of such stupid thinking. I look down, at the black water, swirling and foaming from the chop of the propellers, then at the distance to the dockside, growing with every second I delay. I pull my arm back again, and this time I send the keys sailing out over the gap. For a second or so they hang there, twisting in the air, then Dad’s hand reaches up and catches them.

“Good boy Billy!” Dad yells, and he lets out a whoop. The two dock workers both clap ironically too, and I grin, but then I’m told to get away from the door and it’s closed shut in front of me, so I can’t see anything. I rush to help Amber drag our bags to the storage area, and then outside onto the deck, and I’m disappointed when I see Dad’s truck is gone already. But then I see he’s driven round, so he can watch the boat leave from the end of the harbor arm. The ferry goes so close I can just hear what he shouts out, when we glide by:

“Don’t get into any trouble!”

I wave frantically, and then think of something. “Look after Caroline for me!” I yell, and he grins back, and hold up his hand, in the thumbs up gesture.

And then the rocky arm of the harbor is gone and replaced by a lively sea, blue topped with crests of white, dancing in the sunlight. I can’t hear Dad anymore. But behind us I see the red of the truck shrinking into the distance of our wake, and for a very long time, he doesn’t drive away.

Chapter Five

I stand at the stern of the ferry watching the island for a long time. It won’t actually disappear – you can see the mainland from Lornea, and vice versa, at least on a clear day, but the features disappear, and there’s something metaphorical about that. When you’re on Lornea, you kind of see the stuff that happens on the mainland, but you don’t really notice the details. That’s what’s special about it.

“Come on, you wanna get some food?” Amber says, and I’m surprised because I’d almost forgotten she was there.

We go to the café, and Amber queues to get two coffees, while I sit and look in my backpack for the sandwiches I made earlier. I’m going to have to be very careful with money – well, I’m going to have to learn to be careful, now that I’m at college, because everything is incredibly expensive, and even though Dad’s a successful businessman now, running the whale watching trips, his boat is still mostly owned by the bank. Unfortunately I didn’t have a lot of time this morning, so my sandwiches are a bit plain.

“Here.” Amber joins me, sliding a plate with a much nicer looking sandwich on it in front of me, as well as the coffee.

“I made my own,” I tell her, a bit confused.

“I know you did Billy.” She gives me a smile. “I was a bit worried you might have made me some too.” Her smile turns sarcastic, and she sits down. She takes a big bite out of her sandwich, and chews it loudly. I watch her, and think how I’m lucky that she happens to be moving to Boston at the same time as I am.

The ferry takes four hours, and the time goes too quickly. All too soon and we’re going by little islands covered in seabirds and there’s sailboats all around, and container ships, and airplanes taking off and landing from the airport, and ahead of us the skyline of a proper city, not like Newlea. I start to feel nervous again. Then we get closer still, so we can see the dock where the ferry berths, and then we’re right there, and there’s all sorts of shouts and clangs, and the whole ship judders as it slows down. And finally the ferry is in the berth, and then the doors open. We have to queue to get off, and we’re almost the last to do so, on account of all the luggage Amber has, but she finds a baggage trolley on the dock, so we can wheel everything to where you have to catch the cabs. I think we’re going to part here, but Amber has a better idea, and we share one cab, a minibus, to get all our bags in, plus my bike. I give the driver the address of my accommodation, and we sit