Gifts from the Sea by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock Read Free Book Online

eyes.

    Something slammed into me, something solid but alive, and then it was several bodies, all of them sleek and slippery, moving first beside me, then beneath, lifting me up. I stopped struggling and let myself be borne along.

r. Richardson often told the story afterward of how he'd gone down to the pier and found Celia and me on the beach. At first he thought we were clumps of seaweed and was pushing off in his boat when Celia whimpered. Both of us were half-frozen and bruised, and Celia had a cut over one eye, but we were alive and none too worse for wear.
    He took us to his house, and his wife fussed over us, wrapping us in blankets while she dried our clothes by the fire and feeding us tea and honey, butneither of us could stop shivering. My teeth chattered against the rim of Mrs. Richardson's china cup.
    “As soon as you've warmed up, I'll take you home,” Mr. Richardson said.
    Mrs. Richardson glared at him.
    “You'll not be taking them off to sea again today,” she said firmly. “After what they've been through.”
    “But I have to, Bet,” Mr. Richardson said. “Imagine their father thinking them lost for good.” So Mrs. Richardson finally relented, though she hugged us sohard when we said our goodbyes I thought poor Celia's eyes would pop from her head.

    While Mr. Richardson rowed us home, I told him about the seals carrying Celia and me to shore.
    “You'll not be wanting to tell that story to too many folk, or they'll think you're daft,” Mr. Richardson said, “but I believe you. You can't spend a life at sea like I have and not see some strange happenings.”
    It was a bittersweet voyage home. I was glad I was alive and glad I hadn't killed Celia, but I dreaded going back. For sure Margaret would take Celia now.
    Papa looked like he'd aged twenty years, and he was shaking when he grabbed us up in a bear hug.
    Margaret should have been furious with me, but she hugged me, too.
    “I'm so glad you're both all right.”
    I could hardly look her in the eye. “I need to tell you something.”
    “Your father already told me,” Margaret said, and I hung my head, but she squeezed my shoulder.
    “I would have done the same thing,” she said. “Nothing's more important than family, don't you think?” There were tears in Margaret's eyes and Irealized with Celia gone, I'd still have Papa, no matter how brokenhearted we'd be. But without Celia, Margaret would have no one.
    “What are you going to do, now that you know?” I asked.
    “I don't know,” Margaret said. “But would it be all right if I stayed on a little longer, get to know Celia better, and think about what I want to do?”
    I squeezed Celia tight and couldn't speak.
    “Yes,” Papa said. “You're welcome to stay as long as you like.”
    “When I do leave, I can't ask you to leave the light unattended to get me to the mainland,” Margaret said. “Is there any other way off the island?”
    “There's Mr. Callahan, the lighthouse inspector,” Papa said. “He comes by about every six months or so.”
    “Fine,” Margaret said, relieved. “I'll stay until Mr. Callahan comes.”

e spent the next weeks getting to know each other.
    I came to question Papa's decision to let Margaret stay, thinking it might have been easier if Margaret had just taken Celia away then and there instead of prolonging the agony of having her ripped from our lives. I found myself watching Celia, studying her, trying to memorize every detail of her, knowing that when Margaret took her away, memories would be all I'd have left. When I thought of what life on the island would be like without Celia, just Papa and me rattling around in the lighthouse, I picturedmy heart falling apart in sections, like that orange.
    Margaret didn't look strong, but she was a good worker, and she did her share around the lighthouse, work that Mama had often done: cleaning the copper and brass fixtures, sweeping the tower stairway, and keeping the lantern room clean and dusted. One day