Strong Like the Sea, стр. 68
I hesitate and he clarifies, “Not a secret from your parents, no. Nothing like that. But a secret from the rest of the world.”
Sarge sniffs at the base of the bush and wags his tail.
“Sure.”
Uncle smiles. “I have buried treasure on this beach.”
I narrow my eyes, but play along with Uncle’s joke. “Treasure, huh?”
He points with his chin to the waves. “You heard of green sea turtles nesting down Bellows Beach?”
“Yeah, they had to close the beach to protect them, right?”
“They did.” He nods. “But my Saisei does what she wants. I tell her to go with the others but she only listens sometimes—or maybe she did and came anyway. It’s possible for a female turtle to lay on more than one beach.”
“Lay?” I blink. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Saisei’s eggs are here.”
I drop to my knees and peer under the overhang of the bush. “How many?”
“Most nests hold around a hundred and ten eggs. But we’ll know in about a week when the sixty-day incubation is over. You can count them when they climb out of the nest on their way to the sea.”
“A hundred babies! We get to watch?” Not that I’m admitting to squealing or anything—but I totally did.
“Some of my colleagues will be here to record and observe the hatching. Late in the season like this, and in the shade . . . mostly male offspring, we think.”
“That’s so cool. I can’t wait to see them.”
Uncle’s next answer comes slowly. “I knew you would like that. But I been thinking—do you really only want to see half of it?”
“Half of what?”
“They call the young years of a turtle’s life ‘the lost years,’ because they are so small we can’t track them, but if you wanted to follow them a ways, you could see if they go into the reef, or over it, or where they go.”
“You think I can find out where baby turtles go?”
Uncle chuckles. “No, no. Only to see them off on their journey from a distance. One more look before they disappear.”
“I bet they’re gonna be so cute.” Images of baby sea turtles flapping those adorable flippers fill my head . . . until my brain catches up about how “following them” means that I would have to be in the ocean too. I purse my lips. “Is this a trick to get me back in the water?”
“No trick. Only opportunity. You are too strong to let this fear have power over you all your life.”
“But you’re scared too.” I heard him say so himself.
“True, but when I get the chance to see something on the mainland—something far from the sea where I feel safe—I go anyway. You’re stronger than me. Stronger than you think you are.”
“I’ll think about it.” For now, that’s enough.
“Good,” he grunts. “But one more thing. When you went with me in the kayak, you were afraid of tipping, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sweat pricks the back of my neck just thinking about that day.
“I found something to help you with that too.” He folds his arms all proud of himself, but I can only shake my head.
“I don’t want to go in—”
“How is this report you used to talk about all the time? With the Bletchley Park codebreaker?”
“Mavis Batey? Uh, good, I think. I typed it up and made models and stuff for the codebreaker machines. I really want to win.” That would make an awesome welcome home for Mom. Hi, Mom! Here’s my trophy, same as the one you got.
“If you want me to look at it, I might be able to help. I taught your mom everything I know about secrets and codes, and look where she ended up.”
“In the hospital?”
Uncle’s mouth opens and closes and I can’t help giggling.
“See? You need supervision. Young people these days. No respect. Where’s your family anyway, hah? Who taught you to be so obnoxious?” The grouch in his words never touches the laughter in his eyes.
“My family?” I point to him. “One of them is right here. But I wouldn’t ask him if I was you. I hear he’s grumpy.”
“Bah!”
The school librarian loves my history project! Once she saw the Enigma machine model, she tried to get me to leave it at school like Lowen left his, all covered, but at school and ready to go—except I’ve heard how Lowen keeps snooping around other people’s projects and I don’t want to give him the chance to ogle at mine. He’s got his tied up so well, there’s no way to peek without him knowing. I already caught him prowling by my backpack twice today, but he never figured out what’s in it ’cause I’ve got it safely packed inside the biggest cardboard shoebox I could fit inside my waterproof backpack. I’m not letting it out of my sight. When I set it up this Friday, Lowen won’t know what hit him. Boom! Best report evah! Oh yeah.
My report will be a surprise-sneak attack. Sort of like when Mavis Batey deciphered an Italian message in 1941 that said, “Day X minus 3,” and figured out that enemies were going to attack British ships in three days. But the British were sneaky and pretended they didn’t know about the attack. The admiral of the British fleet even pretended to go golfing on the big day—with golf clubs and everything—but he snuck out and led the British fleet in a preemptive strike! Not only did Mavis’s info save the British fleet, but it wrecked the enemy’s navy for the whole rest of the war. How amazing is that? Her codebreaking skills defeated a whole navy.
Not that I actually want to hurt Lowen or anything; the only battle I want to win is the one for the trophy. I just don’t want him to see my report coming. Because that would be cheating, or at least spying, or sleuthing, or espionage? Whatever.
Surprise report attack for the win!
I gather my things and stuff