Seven Dead Pirates by Linda Bailey Read Free Book Online

discussion, Mrs. Binchy had been hired for the duration of the Dearborns’ stay in Shornoway, mostly, Lewis figured, because she knew how to work the stove. His father’s cooking skills were limited to toast, and his mother flatly refused to go near the stove—an enormous black monster so old it had once burned logs. Mrs. Dearborn avoided the entire kitchen, in fact, saying it would drive her crazy. Under Mrs. Binchy’s rule, it was a spectacular mess—crusty pots in the sink, greasy puddles and vegetable peelings dotting the counters. But out of the chaos came the most incredible food. Freshly baked bread so meltingly light, it didn’t need butter. Thick roast beefs that practically carved themselves. Hot apple tarts, cinnamon twists.
    Lewis wasn’t used to this. Food in his old house had been plain and sensible. Steamed vegetables. Baked fish. Boiled potatoes.
    He
liked
the new food. He liked Mrs. Binchy, too, but he didn’t like it when she asked questions.
    “Not very interesting for you, is it, Lewis? Stuck here with us old fogies. Well, I suppose the only
real
fogy is me. Still, you’ll be glad to get back to school and see your friends, won’t you?”
    Lewis nodded as if he was glad. But the blueberry muffin in his mouth, so delicious a moment before, had turned to sawdust.
    And, suddenly, there was no more avoiding it.
    School.
    The night before, his mother set out his school clothes—the striped shirt and gray pants they had bought for the funeral. Lewis looked at them and knew at once they were wrong. But he wasn’t sure why, and he couldn’t begin to explain.
    He stared at his ceiling till nearly 2 a.m. He thought about the pirates, who had stolen the only thing in his life that was any good. He thought about his great-granddad, who had tricked and betrayed him. And he thought about the next morning at school.
    It was terrible. All of it.
    But school was the worst.

T he first day was a disaster.
    He didn’t expect it to go well, of course. But somehow, year after year, he was never prepared for how bad it could be.
    First, there were his parents. They always came with him the first day, he knew that. But he always let himself hope that this year might be different.
    “The other parents don’t come,” he said at breakfast.
    “We’re not other parents,” said his mother.
    It was hard to argue with that.
    Of course, there were plenty of parents who drove their kids to Tandy Bay Elementary on the first day.But they didn’t come into the classrooms. Not if their kids were in sixth grade!
    But there were Mr. and Mrs. Dearborn, large and bulky, wearing dark suits, pushing their way through the milling students to get to the teacher’s desk. They looked like a couple of beetles on an ant hill.
    “Excuse us,” demanded his mother, holding out her cane to clear a path. “Pardon!”
    Kids backed away, giggling.
    The teacher stood up, surprised. She was new, Lewis saw—a pretty young woman with stylish blue glasses and blond hair tied back. She held out her hand. “I’m Ms. Forsley. Can I—”
    “Charlotte Dearborn,” said Lewis’s mother firmly in a voice that carried into the hall. “
Dr
. Charlotte Dearborn. And this is my husband, Dr. Gerald Dearborn. We’d like a word about our son, Lewis.”
    The class grew quiet, the buzz of voices fading.
    “Well—” said Ms. Forsley. But it was too late.
    “Lewis is gifted, you understand, and he’ll need special …”
    Lewis forced his brain to sing la-la-la so he wouldn’t have to listen. But he heard the laughter behind him and a boy’s voice repeating “
Special!
” He heard Ms. Forsley’s voice, too, pleasant and friendly, suggesting that they could discuss it later. The teachers
always
said this, every year, but his parents never learned.
    La-la-la, went Lewis in his head, trying to block out “Lewis’s health” and “fragile,” and then “asthma” and “allergies.” The other kids were beginning to sit down, so he shuffled