Island Angels

Scram!

Delaina had taught the children never to stare. Now, they gawked without shame.

Blair fingered Grotto's beard. He pushed her hand away, then flipped his long locks over his shoulder.

"I'm a human being," he said. "You don't have to pet me like a dog."

"I'll bet that beard would fall off if I pulled on it."

"Ask Mom what happens to people who mess with my hair."

"Why are you creeping around Opal Mildred's yard in the rain?" Brittany asked.

"I've been clam-digging." He shoved a sand-caked hand into the bucket, then withdrew a shell. "Take one. Just don't bite, or your teeth will end up like mine."

Blair slipped it into her knapsack.

"You must be Jason's friend," Brittany said. "He digs clams, too."

"Clayson's mom won't let him play. But I don't care. I've got my own secret hideaway."

"Show us."

He skirted the side of Opal Mildred's house.

Blair pointed to the cistern. "Do you play down there?"

"Are you nuts?" he scoffed. "I fell and broke my arm. Dad put boards over it."

He moved past the cistern, to a trap door built into the ground. With a vicious tug, he yanked open the heavy wooden door to reveal a ladder. Down he climbed, Brittany and Blair behind him, into Opal Mildred's basement.

Blair gasped. "You broke into our house!"

"What used to be our house," Brittany corrected. "Remember, she kicked us out."

"He kicked us in, again," Blair said. "Maybe he's an angel who gave us back our house."

"Or a burglar."

"He can't burgle anything down here," Blair said.

She was right. Except for scrap metal and rusty tools, the basement was empty. Its walls were limestone; its ceiling, crumbling white foam. Puddles covered its cracked cement floor. The air smelled of ancient dirt and sewage.

A ceiling-high stack of cardboard cartons stood in the corner. "Can't Miss Opal get enough Pop Tasties?" Brittany asked.

"I don't know why you guys keep talking about the library lady," Grotto said. "She moved out."

He led them across the mud floor, past four metal foundation posts, around a brick column, and into the back corner. There stood a rusted metal chest freezer, big as a bathtub. He lifted the lid.

Dust billowed in Brittany's face; then, she felt an icy-cold blast. She peered inside, and a frozen animal, eyeballs intact, stared back.

Grotto leered. "Say hello to Bambi. That buck has been frozen for fifteen years."

Blair's eyes grew round. "Can we eat it?"

"This freezer is so cold, it could store dead bodies."

"Be quiet," Brittany ordered.

"I want to see more," Blair whined.

"There's more, all right." He led them around the corner, to a closet door. "You'll never guess what's in here."