midnight walks Becca stomped off into the mist It was so still that the sudden splash of her boots in the sea surprised her She stood in the water looking down at her boots with the flashlight and at the seaweed and snails and all the things that were so bright and clear in daylight Now they looked weird and mysterious as if they’d been caught by surprise in their secret night life Did snails sleep Did oysters sleep Did seaweed breathe out at night like trees and bushes did I need oysters Gran reminded her out of the dark Becca squelched on shining the light down Oysters lay loose on the beach The shells had crusty frills that hurt her fingers Can I do it she asked when she’d brought some oysters I’ve never done it before Why not Just be careful Gran gave Becca the oven mitts now sloppy with oyster liquor She showed her how to hold the oyster and where to pry with the knife to break its muscle She put her strong hand over Becca’s and helped her twist the shucker at all There it goes Becca felt the shell give way Your very first oyster Gran said solemnly suddenly not bossy It has a frill inside too The mantle that’s how it sifts its food Gran explained It’s soft But what are these specks Becca ran her fingers over the cold damp oyster and felt little hard bits grit or bits of shell she thought
Wait Gran shone the light on Becca’s first oyster and then she started to laugh Pearls she cried You’ve got a pearl scads of pearls Really Becca was amazed feeling the rolling bits with her fingers There’s a whole bunch My very own pearls Careful Gran said You don’t want to lose any Here you can put them in this She emptied the matchbox she kept in her backpack and Becca put the pearls in it feeling carefully so she wouldn’t miss any You’re certainly lucky Rebecca my girl Gran said You’ve found a whole handful of pearls all in one go I can’t believe it Becca smiled and turned off the flashlight The mist gave off a light of its own and in her pocket was a matchbox of pearls Later she and Gran snuggled into Gran’s Arctic sleeping bags down on the beach and Frank curled up to sleep at her feet That was some itchy oyster Gran said in wonder Seventeen pearls said Becca for they had counted them together in the warmth of the cabin Seventeen Becca could hear Gran smiling A lopsided moon now shone through the mist so that they lay in a pearly light themselves And it’s the same moon said Becca Yes The same moon shining down on us all said Gran
2 Herring IT’S ALL very well living on an island but you’ve got to have a boat Gran declared And it’s your last morning so what better day for a sea voyage Sixteen days had whizzed by It had rained it had blown and sometimes the sun had shone in a thin winterish way Becca had piled more wood than she cared to remember She had found out about the slippery algae that grew on the sandstone in winter She still had the bruise from that discovery She had counted widgeons and harlequins and pigeon guillemots for Gran’s monthly bird count Quite against her will she had taken lessons in how to turn compost She had gone swimming although the water was polar That had been an accident too and had only happened because Gran had asked her to wash vegetables in the sea In the sea What was wrong with the kitchen sink But that was what chores were like at Gran’s house They involved the great outdoors Gran picked up the phone Who are you calling Becca asked The boat shop No I’m phoning Dugald Ssssh Phoning Dugald was how Gran described the local weather update Now she listened carefully not saying a word You didn’t talk to the weather update It talked to you Sometimes the recording had a woman’s voice sometimes a man’s But it was always phoning Dugald because Dugald was the one with the nicest voice and the most interesting name Greetings he would
say full of warmth and authority about weather This is Dugald blah-blah with the local weather update What did he say Becca asked hanging by her arms from the ladder that led to the loft where she slept It wasn’t him said Gran But whoever it was said winds variable five to ten knots High pressure system holding steady A perfect day for the boat Out she ordered and Becca jumped off the ladder and hurried to pull on her boots At the boat shed Gran handed Becca life jackets and a pair of oars She heaved the motor and gas tank into the wheelbarrow and trundled it down to the sea’s edge Where’s the boat Becca asked Gran’s old boat Glaucous Gull was in dry-docks overgrown with salal and green with algae and many seasons of congealed tree pollen Under the cabin Gran said I got a new one for myself for my birthday New to me I mean It was second hand A bargain Under the cabin Becca thought about how much trouble she had squeezing under there during games of hide-and-seek with her cousins What kind of boat could Gran store under there Gran wheeled the barrow back up the beach and hauled a huge duffel bag out from under the cabin That’s a boat Becca asked It’s a Zodiac Becca glanced up at the sky Not the stars Gran said She heaved the duffel bag into the barrow and headed for the beach It’s an inflatable boat made in France Inflatable it might be Becca thought but as she and Gran struggled with its pieces and parts it seemed more like one of those
