Storm Tide Read Free

usually row first and she navigates, then after a while we switch.
    â€œI can’t see the head anymore,” she shouts to be heard over the wind. “The wind is picking up way faster than I’d expected. Maybe we should just turn around.”
    I nod my head because already I am finding it hard to keep the boat moving in the direction I want to go. Turning around seems like an excellent idea.
    Until I try. As soon as I sweep the oar to change the angle of the boat, I know it’s going to be impossible. The boat tilts dangerously to the left, and water slops over the side. It slides around the bottom of the boat, wetting my toes.
    â€œI can’t turn around. The wind’s too strong.” My voice sounds panicky.
    â€œAim for the far shore,” Ellen says, and she slides in beside me. I let her have the starboard oar, and I put all my weight into pulling the port one.
    I can’t believe we’ve been this stupid. You’d think living here all our lives, we’d know better. But that’s the thing with wind and waves: you often can’t tell how strong they are until you’re in them. We pull and pull on the oars, but as hard as we pull, we can’t escape the waves. I look over my shoulder.
    We’re being pushed out to sea.
    â€œPull harder,” I yell at Ellen. Both of us tense and pull, tense and pull. Slowly, the bow of the boat shifts, and then our angle swings around. Water spills over the gunwales, but we stay upright. Now we’re heading toward the far shore. There’s no time to take a breath. We have to keep rowing, or we’ll lose our angle and head back out to sea. Up and down the waves we ride. Up and down and up and down.
    I’ve given up finding the person in the water when Ellen yells, “Look, there!” The man—we can see he has a beard—is on the surface, but is clearly struggling. I watch out of the corner of my eye, since I don’t dare turn around. He keeps disappearing under the water for long periods.
    â€œWe can’t reach him,” says Ellen, and I nod. But I see him surface again. For a second, I look right into his face. We lock eyes, and I feel a jolt of the man’s terror all down my back.
    With a new burst of strength, I pull my oar to change the angle of the boat. It is just enough to send us past the man.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Ellen yells.
    I ignore her and pull again. The boat shifts more, and we hurtle along a wave, heading right for the man in the water.
    â€œYou hold the boat steady,” I call to Ellen. She opens her mouth, but doesn’t say anything. I hand her my oar and slide across, reaching under a seat for the lifes-aving ring. I check the rope on the ring, then tie the other end of the rope to my seat.
    â€œOne, two, three,” I say, and I fling the ring overboard. It lands far from the man. I brace myself and pull on the rope to bring the life-saving ring back in. I try again. This time I risk crouching over so I can get a better angle. Again, the ring lands too far from the man. As I sit back down, a wave sloshes over the gunwale, soaking Ellen and me. The wind is getting worse.
    â€œOne last try.” I grit my teeth. If I mess this one up, this guy’s going to drown. This time I sit low, my knees resting on the bottom of the boat. I swing the rope as hard as I can and hope.
    The ring lands right on top of the man’s head. For a second it looks like it is going to slide off, but then it sinks over his neck.
    â€œHurrah,” says Ellen in a strained voice.
    She keeps pulling on the oars while I pull on the rope. I have to go gently so the ring won’t come off the man’s neck. He’s heavy, and I have to lean back to pull him closer. After a minute of pulling, I’ve got him alongside the boat.
    â€œIs he alive?” asks Ellen.

Chapter Five
    â€œI can’t tell.” I reach over to grab him under the arms so I can hoist him in, but