Star in the Storm Read online

  Ma took the whistling kettle to the sink and filled the teapot. “I’m glad to hear that, Lucy. Marcus is a good-hearted man. He just has a problem with Newfoundland rum.”

  “And beer, and calabogus, and anything else available,” Lucy muttered. “Well, whatever Reuben said, it seems to be working. I’ve never seen Marcus get up so early as he has been lately. He washes up, gathers brishney from the yard for the morning fire . . .”

  “And lately he’s been polishing his boots with tallow and oil,” Annie added. “I always had to do that for him.”

  “Miracles, that’s what it is,” said Lucy.

  “Reuben does have a way with words.” Ma poured the tea. “Here, Annie, sit with us. Maggie, bring out some bake apple tarts and cream. We’ll have a nice visit while our men are gone.”

  Maggie did as her mother asked, but she couldn’t help being upset with Annie. Hadn’t she clearly taken sides with Tamar against her? Was Ma really making the blanket for the Rands’ grandchild? She plunked the food on the table and sat down.

  Lucy looked out the window. “I can see the smoke from your chimney falling down. And the clouds are moving fast from the east.”

  “ ‘When the wind is in the east, ’tis neither good for man nor beast,’ ” quoted Annie.

  Ma changed the subject. “Lucy, would you drop by tomorrow and pick up the food for the party? Hopefully the afghan will be finished in time.”

  “I’ll be here,” Lucy said, nodding. “Do you think Reuben and Marcus will be back by then?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Ma answered. “The storm’s not due to hit until later in the weekend. The steamer is coming in tomorrow morning. It should get here before the storm.”

  “The cats were very playful today,” Lucy mused.

  “That’s right,” Annie said. “It never fails that we have a bad storm when they act that way.”

  Maggie dropped her teacup with a clatter into the saucer. “Please stop it!” She knew well the old saying that when cats are playful, they are said to “gale up the weather.” “That’s all foolish superstition. Pishogue!” She glanced over at the weatherglass. Had the water in the spout risen in the last minute?

  Lucy followed her glance. “I knew it,” she exclaimed. “The storm is closer than we thought. Marcus and Reuben will head straight into it. And so will the steamer that’s bringing the Rands’ new grandchild. There’s trouble ahead, I just feel it in my bones.”

  “Nonsense,” said Ma, sipping her tea calmly. “Reuben knows enough to get to port in a storm, Lucy. Now calm down and drink your tea and enjoy the afternoon.”

  Lucy drank the rest of her tea, but her eyes kept wandering to the window. Finally she stood up and thanked Grace. She and Annie took their leave.

  Once they had left and were out of sight, Maggie took her daily hike up the quidnunc to feed Sirius.

  At supper time, Otto and Cliff appeared at the door. They had been digging the trench for the pipe from the mountain spring, and Ma had promised them a boiled dinner of salt beef, cooked in a huge pot with cabbage, turnip, carrots, and potatoes. Ma had also filled a muslin bag with yellow split peas and hung it inside the pot to cook with the other ingredients. Peas porridge was one of Maggie’s favorite dishes.

  “Smells good in here,” Cliff said as he removed his boots. “Boy, the wind sure is picking up out there.”

  “Yep, there’s white horses on the bay,” Otto added, referring to the whitecapped waves.

  “Take a look at the weatherglass,” said Maggie. The spout was now half full. “I hope Pa gets to port before the storm hits.”

  “Don’t worry, maid. The storm’s comin’ on us as fast as you’d say ‘trapsticks,’ but Reuben’s been a seagoing man all his life. He’ll be all right.”

  As night set in, the four of them sat at the table with bowed heads. By the light of the kerosene lamp, Otto asked the blessing and ended with the plea, “Heavenly Father, watch over our friends and loved ones on the sea this night.”

  “And please watch over Sirius, too,” whispered Maggie. “Amen.”

  * * *

  The storm raged that night. The rain lashed at the windows, and branches snapped off of the crab apple tree. Maggie woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of gale winds that carried the roar of the sea. She prayed for Pa and Marcus and wondered about Sirius all alone up on the quidnunc. She buried her head into her pillow, so her mother wouldn’t hear her crying.

  A little while later, Maggie went downstairs. Ma sat at the kitchen table, a lantern and open Bible in front of her. She pointed to the weatherglass. The blue liquid had overflowed the spout and spilled into the metal tray that hung below.

  “Oh, Ma,” Maggie said. “It’s such a bad storm.”

  “And it came on us so quick.” Ma got up and put more wood into the stove. “It’s a fast-moving gale. The worst will be over by daylight,” she said. “We’ve weathered bad storms before.”

  “But we’ve always been together,” Maggie said. “Do you think Pa found a safe harbor?”

  “Of course he did,” Ma said, drawing her daughter into her lap. “Try not to worry too much. You need to show your faith, Maggie. God hears prayers, you know.”

  Amid the thrashing of the wind and rain, Maggie heard a faint scratching sound. “What’s that?” Maggie ran to the door. The wind took her breath away as she peered out into the darkness.

  “Sirius!” she cried.

  Soaking wet and shivering, Sirius crept into the kitchen.

  “Poor old beast,” Ma exclaimed. “Bring him close to the fire, maid.” She pulled a woolen blanket out of the closet. “Rub him dry, Maggie, while I get him some food.” She shook her head. “Oh, poor dog.”

  Maggie realized at that moment how much her mother loved Sirius. The blanket was a good one, freshly washed in precious water and dried on the clothesline. But it didn’t matter to Ma. Maggie draped the blanket around the dog, rubbed him briskly, and crooned to him.

  “My sweet Sirius, my bright star dog. I shouldn’t have left you up there in the storm. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The dog whined softly and slapped his wet tail against the floor.

  Ma placed some leftover boiled beef in front of him. “Eat,” she said gently. Sirius lapped at the food, looking now and then at Maggie, who continued to alternately rub him and hug him. After eating, the dog curled up on the blanket by the fire and fell asleep, snoring softly.

  “We’ll keep Sirius here until we’re sure he’s well. After all, he’s been out in the gale all night,” said Ma. “But we’ll have to be right careful who comes into the house.”

  “I hope he didn’t catch cold.” Maggie said, petting Sirius’s damp head.

  Ma tucked the blanket up around Sirius. “He’ll be all right, Maggie. He’s used to snowy weather, and it’s not really cold out. Just windy and wet.”

  Maggie and Ma stayed in the kitchen all night. Sirius slept soundly by the stove. The rain began to let up, but the gale winds continued to howl around the house and whistle through the chimney. When Maggie opened the front door for a moment, gusts of deafening wind assaulted her. With force, she pushed the door shut and bolted it.

  Maggie thought about Pa—hopefully in a harbor, and not somewhere out there on the wild sea.

  Ma stood at the kitchen window. She voiced Maggie’s very thoughts. “I’m sure he’s put into a safe port by now.”

  * * *

  In midmorning, Uncle Norm banged at the door. He was covered from head to foot in a southwester raincoat; wisps of hair were plastered to his face, and his eyes were shadowed by dark circles. He must have been up all night, too, Maggie thought.

  “What’s wrong?” Ma asked.

  Maggie held her breath, her eyes fixed on Norm’s anguished face.

  “Is it Reuben?” Ma’s voice trembled.

  “No,” he answered quickly. “But there’s bad news. The steamer is sinking off Killock Rock with almost a hundred passengers on board!”

  A STAR IN
THE STORM

  MAGGIE GRABBED HER SLICKER FROM a peg by the door and followed Ma and her uncle down to the village, onto the harbor neck. Most of the townsfolk had already gathered there.

  Through the mist and fog Maggie could see the ghostly form of the steamer as it listed on the rocks offshore.

  “She had turned to head into the harbor, but lost her engine,” Uncle Norm hollered over the sounds of the crashing surf. “The breakers carried her into the rocks.”

  A bright signal light blinked from the ship. “They’re taking on water!” yelled a familiar voice. “Get a boat out there!” Howard Rand was running around, gesturing madly at the crowd.

  Four men in a large rowboat were already heading for the ship. Maggie watched as a huge wave lifted the bow, turned the boat right over, and scattered the rescuers in the black, churning waters.

  Farther back in the harbor, more boats were being launched—this time to save the rescuers.

  “My daughter is out there—and her baby,” yelled Howard Rand.

  The foundering ship continued to send flashing signals—bright lights that penetrated and hung in the thick fog. The steamer bounced in the water, lopsided, tilting into the rocks. Maggie saw Constance Rand and Tamar clinging to each other, unmindful of the wind raging around them, their total attention on the tottering ship. Maggie took hold of Ma’s hand.

  Uncle Norm joined the fishermen on the rocky beach.

  “What will they do?” Maggie asked her mother. “There must be a way. The ship is so close. If the tide went out, maybe . . .”

  “No, maid,” said Ma, gripping her daughter’s hand. “The tides are higher than usual because of the storm and the new moon. This is very bad. But there must be some way to help those passengers and crew.”

  Maggie thought of Ma’s old proverb, “ ‘The old moon in the arms of the new; bodes no good for me nor you.’ ”

  “A breeches buoy!” Uncle Jabe yelled over the wind. “They’re signaling for us to help set up a breeches buoy.”

  “What’s a breeches buoy?” Maggie asked.

  Otto stood nearby. “It’s a lifesaving device. Maggie,” he explained. “A rope line is set up—a pulley—between the shore and the sinking ship. The breeches are usually a pair of canvas britches attached to a circular lifesaver, you see. Each passenger gets into the britches and is hoisted to land over the water.” Otto pointed out to the ship. “But how to get a line out there, and bring one back, is the question that would stump the Devil himself.” He shook his head. “There’s no way in these waves.”

  The fog was lifting and the sky was brighter, but the clearing westerly wind strengthened, creating mountainous breakers.

  Lucy and Annie had arrived and were huddling together against the wind. Their faces were strained as they looked out at the steamer.

  Uncle Norm and Cliff climbed to a high rock overlooking the water and set up a huge wooden foghorn. Cliff pumped a set of bellows, and Norm forced the handle down. The loud horn bellowed, echoing across the water.

  “I hope they can hear our signals,” Otto said to Ma. “Norm is telling them that we’re still trying to send boats out there. See? Cliff is pumping the bellows, and Norm is blowing the horn with the handle. It’s the only way we can communicate with the ship right now.”

  “They’re setting up the breeches buoy on their end,” Howard Rand yelled. He was reading the flashing signals from the ship. “We’ve got to bring back their line.”

  “Aye,” someone shouted. “But how?”

  “Small boats can’t make it in these waves.” It was Uncle Jabe’s voice.

  The deep horn sent this message to the foundering ship.

  Otto moved close to Maggie and spoke with his cupped hand to her ear. “We both know how to get a line out there and back, don’t we, Maggie? We both know a way to save all those people.”

  Sirius.

  Sirius could swim to and from the boat—that’s what Otto was trying to tell her.

  “No!” Maggie screamed, clapping her hands to her ears and shaking her head.

  “What’s wrong, Maggie?” Ma asked.

  “No,” she repeated. “Not Sirius! He’d drown in those waves.”

  Otto nodded. “Yes, he might, Maggie.”

  “Oh, my child,” said Ma. “I forgot about Sirius. He may be the only one who can help.”

  This is all a dream, Maggie told herself. I’ll wake up and see Sirius asleep in the kitchen, and Pa having tea at the table, and no storm. Everyone is safe. This is just a dream.

  But it was no dream.

  “Maggie, you’ve got to make the right decision. You know what to do, my child,” he said.

  “Even if Sirius could do it and didn’t drown, it wouldn’t change anything,” Maggie cried. “Howard Rand would still have him shot tomorrow. I know he would.”

  “Everyone will speak on Sirius’s behalf, Maggie.”

  “But the law . . .”

  Another boat had been launched. Maggie prayed the boat would make it to the steamer. But it rose too high on the great waves, and the men headed back to safety.

  “Marie! Marie!” Constance Rand screamed as the steamer shifted farther against the rocks. “Someone help them!”

  Maggie looked over at Tamar, who clung to her mother, crying.

  “Where are you going, Maggie?” called Ma as Maggie headed away from the beach.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Maggie yelled. She raced along the rocky shore. Her throat ached, and tears blinded her as she flew up the hillside to her house.

  “Come, Sirius,” she said, bursting into the kitchen

  Sirius sat up and yawned. Maggie knelt down to hug him.

  “You’ve got to help the passengers,” she whispered in his ear. “This is something you have to do, Sirius.” She sat back on her knees and stroked his smooth head. “It will be hard, but God will guide you, my sweet dog.”

  Maggie got up and opened the door. “Come on, boy,” she said, pointing outside.

  Maggie brought Sirius down to the shoreline, where Howard Rand was standing with Otto, Uncle Jabe, and the others.

  “Good girl, Maggie,” said Otto. “That was no easy decision, let me tell.”

  Ma put her arms around her daughter. “Oh, Maggie,” she said. “My brave girl.”

  Someone cheered. “The dog can bring the ropes!” Somebody else yelled, “That dog can swim better than a fish!”

  Maggie looked up at Howard Rand. “My dog will swim out to the steamer,” she said. “He’ll bring the ropes for the breeches buoy.”

  After a moment, Howard Rand turned to the men on the shore. “Don’t just stand there!” he hollered. “Get our end of the buoy set up while this dog takes the line out there.”

  Cliff pumped the bellows while Norm signaled the ship that the dog was coming.

  Back on the beach, Sirius barked and pranced, his fur ruffling in the wind.

  Rand read the return signals from the steamer. “They know he’s coming,” he said. “Send him off, Maggie.” He handed her the end of a coil of heavy rope that had been knotted into a loop.

  Maggie led Sirius to the edge of the water. She put the rope to his mouth. “Go to the boat, Sirius,” she commanded, pointing to the water. “Go bring them the rope.” Sirius took the line in his mouth and circled around Maggie. He sat down. “Go!” Maggie pointed again. “Go to the boat!” She pulled on Sirius’s collar. Sirius rose and circled Maggie. He stepped into the water, then looked up at her.

  “Go to the boat. Bring the rope to the boat. Good dog!”

  Sirius plunged into the surf, his legs paddling fiercely, his ears floating around his great head. Maggie held her breath as her dog disappeared into the breakers.

  “There he goes!” yelled Howard Rand, raising a telescope to his eye. “I can see him.”

  Maggie watched the coiled rope unwind. Then she lowered her head and prayed. “Please watch over him,” she begged. “Help him save those people—and please bring him back to me.” Ma’s
hand was warm on her shoulder.

  Lucy and Annie stood nearby. “Don’t worry, Maggie. He’ll be all right,” Annie said. “He’s a brave, amazing dog.”

  “The coil has stopped,” someone yelled. “The dog’s gone!” Groans rose from the crowd.

  Maggie closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sounds and the shouting and the horn. “Wait! There he is! I can see his black head!” Howard bellowed again, the telescope glued to his eye.

  Maggie opened her eyes, relieved to see the cable line unwinding again.

  “Is he almost there?” came a shout.

  “Can you see him?” Constance Rand tugged at her husband’s arm.

  “Aye,” Howard Rand shouted. “God bless him! He’s at the boat!”

  The crowd cheered again.

  “What’s going on now?” Constance pleaded.

  “They’ve taken the rope from him, and they’re giving him the other cable,” Rand answered. “He’s on his way back.”

  “Come on, Sirius!” Maggie cried. “Good dog. Bring us their line.”

  The wind howled around the waiting crowd.

  “Where is he now?” Ma called.

  “He’s gone,” Lucy moaned.

  Howard scanned the surface of the water. “I can’t see him. He can’t fail now!” He swung around. “Where’s Maggie Wells? Get her down here,” he ordered. “Call your dog again, Maggie. He knows your voice. He needs to know where you are. Everyone else, not a yap out of you!”

  Maggie drew away from Ma and walked to the edge of the water. “Sirius!” she called through her cupped hands. “Come to me, boy. Bring me the rope.” Maggie searched for her dog’s black form.

  “Sirius!” The wind carried her cries out onto the foaming water. “Please come to me, boy,” she begged. “Come on, Sirius. Come, boy!”

  Suddenly, out of the rising breakers, a form rose and fell with the waves.

  Then there was Sirius staggering on the slippery rocks. With the rope clenched tightly in his teeth, he was heading straight for Maggie.