“Truly!” said Zadie, beckoning to me. “I mean Grania—come on in and join us.”
I gaped. “But—”
She gave me an impish grin. “Skinny-dipping is good for the soul. Isn’t that right, Lenore?”
Lenore nodded. I quickly covered my eyes as she did a surface dive. “Um, no thanks.”
“Suit yourself. Or not, as the case may be!” Zadie laughed and paddled away.
A bird walk it was, then, I thought, veering back toward the driveway. As I passed the hammock, though, I suddenly changed my mind. Switching directions, I detoured to Whelk and slipped inside, where I retrieved the book about the Windborne that Aunt True had sent. Then I headed to the hammock to read.
Twenty minutes later, I sat up so fast the hammock flipped over and I went sprawling onto the grass. Scrambling to my feet, I ran back to Whelk and burst through the door.
“Hey, guys, wake up!”
Jasmine groaned. Mackenzie buried her head under her pillow.
“Go away,” growled Cha Cha.
“Seriously, you have to hear this!”
Mackenzie lifted a corner of the pillow and peered out at me. “Hear what?”
“It’s from the book Aunt True sent!”
“Which one?”
“Saga of a Ship!”
“It’s too early!” Jasmine protested, as Cha Cha let out another low growl.
“I mean it—this is big stuff! I think one of my ancestors was a pirate!”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, you have pirates on the brain,” said Mackenzie in disgust. She rolled over, pulling the pillow back over her head.
I pried it away, thrusting the book under her nose and stabbing my finger at the page. “Look, it’s right here in black and white!”
She glared at me resentfully. “I’m sleeping, Truly.”
“Right here, see? It’s talking about one of the pirates who survived the shipwreck of the Windborne—the one who didn’t get caught.”
“Dandy Dan?” Jasmine mumbled.
“That’s the one! It says that he was described by his shipmates as ‘a man most generous of beak.’ ”
My cousin stared at me blankly.
“Beak. You know, nose?”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“He had a big nose! ”
“So?”
“So think about it—the Lovejoy proboscis?” Mackenzie looked at me like I’d completely lost my mind. “Nathaniel Daniel—”
“—looks like a spaniel,” she concluded automatically.
“Exactly! My ancestor! You’ve seen his portrait—his nose is enormous! He’s a man ‘most generous of beak’!”
The lump in the bunk that was Cha Cha gave a raspy laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
Mackenzie sat up and threw her pillow at me. “You woke us up for that? Do you know how many people in this world have big noses, Truly?”
“A lot, that’s how many!” said Jasmine. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Yeah, but c’mon, guys, think about it—don’t you think it’s a little too many coincidences? It’s not just the big nose, it’s the name—Dandy Dan. Nathaniel Daniel. And there’s more.” As I explained about Cherry Island, my cousin and friends fell silent.
“It’s still probably just a coincidence,” Jasmine said finally.
“And even if it were true,” said Cha Cha, “how would you ever find out for sure? It’s been a secret all these years.”
“So was the Underground Railroad hiding spot, and the original Truly’s diary, and Professor Rusty’s letters to Aunt True,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but we found all those by accident,” Cha Cha continued. “The Windborne sank three hundred years ago, and people have been trying to solve the mystery of the pirate treasure ever since. And not just any people—really smart people. Historians and real-live treasure hunters, like the guy who founded the pirate museum.”
Mackenzie nodded, pointing to the book. “The author has a PhD, remember?”
“We’re smart too!” I protested. I couldn’t believe they couldn’t see what was right in front of their eyes.
Jasmine sat up. “Okay, so let’s say it isn’t a coincidence. Where do we even start?”
I waved the book at them. “We could start by talking to Amanda Appleton at her book signing tonight.”
Mackenzie looked doubtful. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to a bunch of kids?”
“Authors always want to talk to potential readers,” I told them. “Trust me. We’ve got to talk to this lady. She may know a bunch more than what she put in her book.”
While my cousin and friends got dressed, I sat on my bunk and stared at the cover of Saga of a Ship. I thought about the portrait of Nathaniel Daniel Lovejoy on our living room wall back home in Pumpkin Falls. Could my distinguished ancestor really have sailed under the black flag?
If Nathaniel Daniel had actually been Dandy Dan, what made him decide to give up his life of crime and become a model citizen? One who founded a college and paid for the Paul Revere bell on our church? Facing the prospect of a public trial and hanging, I supposed it would have been a smart move, heading to a small town in the foothills of the White Mountains, far away from the sea. What better place to hide than in tiny landlocked Pumpkin Falls? No one would think of looking for a pirate there.
I thought of Nathaniel Daniel’s wife, Prudence. She looked so prim and proper in her portrait, the very image of a perfect New England housewife—certainly not like someone who would marry a pirate or approve of him spending his ill-gotten gains. Had she known about her husband’s wicked past? If he’d even had a wicked past, that was.
I had so many questions!
I wondered if any of my other relatives knew about Dandy Dan, the pirate “most generous of beak.” Was there a reason that Aunt True had sent me this particular book? Was she in on the secret? Was this some big skeleton in the Lovejoy closet that everyone had taken pains over the centuries to hide?
I needed to talk to Aunt True again.
CHAPTER 18
Talking to my aunt was going to have to wait, though.
“No shell phones today,” Sirena announced as we gathered as directed at the minivans a short while later. She held out a basket. “It’s time to unplug.”
Mackenzie clutched her phone, horrified. “Is she kidding?” she
