Turn Left at the Cow by Lisa Bullard Read Free Book Online Page B

there when she was a little kid, and I guess the place was a big deal to her, because she had made up silly names for almost everything: Acorn Academy for this one gigantic oak; Fairy Rock for a big boulder that sparkled in the sun; Fingers-to-Heaven for a jagged-topped ten-foot stump.
    It all kind of blurred together for me. Since I was the one they were counting on to recognize a map of the island in my father’s stuff, I figured we were out of luck unless I stumbled across something that was clearly labeled “Island” with an arrow pointing to a big red
X
and a scrawled “
buried treasure here.
”
    At least some good came out of the whole thing, though: our little wander through her happy childhood memories seemed to have cooled down Iz’s bad mood by the time we were heading back home in the boat. So I thought it was safe to ask one of the questions that still dogged me. “Here’s the other thing I was wondering: What are you going to do with the reward money when you collect the big bucks?”
    I was wrong about the cooled-down part.
    Iz turned on me, and her eyes could have melted the skin off my bones. “That part is my business,” she snapped. “Not everyone is born a rich California smart aleck!”
    I felt my jaw drop down and my inner demon rise up at the same time. “And not everyone’s born a—”
    â€œTime-out, you two!” Kenny suddenly bellowed from the back of the boat. “This is the part where Coach would make you both drop down and give him fifty.”
    Iz glared at me a minute. Then she stood up, whipped off her shorts and T-shirt to reveal a bikini underneath, and threw her watch down onto the seat. I admit it—my mouth dropped open and stayed open when she went for the T-shirt, so she got in the last word.
    â€œYou are just about the stupidest boy I’ve ever met!” Then she dived over the side of the boat and started swimming toward home.
    Kenny shrugged at me and adjusted the boat’s speed to putter. “Guess she’s voted herself off the island.”
    We followed along, watching her slice through the water at top speed. My rage sizzled like sunburn under my skin, and then it drained down through my feet and out into the bottom of the boat. Finally I gave in and turned to Kenny.
    â€œUh—shouldn’t we stop her or something? Looks like she’s planning to Michael Phelps her way home.”
    He shrugged again. “She was the best swimmer on the tritown team before she quit this year; the distance back home is barely a warm-up to her. But we better follow close behind. If Mom catches one of us swimming without using the buddy system, we’re grounded for a month. So watch to make sure Iz’s head comes up for air once in a while.”
    I watched her windmilling arms for a few yards and then turned back to Kenny. “Seriously, what is wrong with her?”
    Kenny shook his head. “She’s a girl, dude. That’s just how they are. I got two sisters and two girl cousins and a mom living in my house. There’s no explaining them. You just stay out of their way when you can and keep your head down when you can’t.”
    â€œThen why aren’t you off tossing around the pigskin with a bunch of your buddies instead of playing pirate?” I asked.
    Kenny glanced over the side of the boat, either to make sure Iz’s head was still visible or to check if she was likely to hear us—I wasn’t sure which.
    â€œLook, man, Iz’s family has had some really bad times lately,” he said. “I mean, you might think you’ve got parent problems, but her mom and her dad, they both . . . although that don’t make it right for her to trash-talk you like that. But this money—she really thinks it could fix things for her family. She’s kind of . . . focused on it. And I don’t mind trying to help her out.” Then he grinned his usual