The Misadventures of Seldovia Sam. Susan Woodward Springer

one more look at that giant clam of yours?”

      “Sure,” said Sam. He looked at Dad, who reached into the pocket of his coat. Out came the clam. Even in Dad’s big hand, it still looked huge.

      “Wow!” exclaimed Melody. “That’s the biggest clam I’ve ever seen!”

      Sam smiled to himself. She must have forgotten her claim that ALL the clams in Jakolof Bay were puny!

      Dad reached his big hand into the skiff and pulled Sam onto the dock. Then he crouched down.

      “Climb up on my back, Sam,” he advised. “You shouldn’t walk on that foot.”

      “So long, Gil,” Sam called as they headed up the dock. “And thanks … for everything.”

      Gil lifted a hand in salute. Dad opened the door of the truck and deposited Sam on the seat. The truck was warm from sitting in the sun, and suddenly Sam felt very sleepy.

      Grime and Punishment

      Sam slept all the way back to Seldovia. He slept as they passed the islands and MacDonald Spit. He slept as they passed the eagle’s nest and Dark Creek Canyon. He even slept as they passed the airstrip, now busy with planes taking off and landing.

      Then something shook him awake.

      “Come on, Sam. Climb aboard. We’re home.”

      Sleepily, he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck as he was carried into the house.

      At the sight of his mother frowning in the kitchen, Sam finally woke up.

      She’d ground him for sure!

      But Mom didn’t say much. She dragged a dining room chair in for him to sit on and fussed over his foot. Dad brought in an old washtub that Mom filled with warm water and Epsom salts.

      “Put that foot in here, Sam, and don’t you move it an inch. Do you understand?”

      Sam nodded solemnly. He stared at the water as the grime and sand melted off his foot.

      “I’m going outside to help your father unload the truck.”

      Great, thought Sam. They’re going to figure out some horrible punishment for me.

      Sam stared into the washtub. His foot stung and throbbed all at the same time. He hadn’t realized how sharp those clamshells and barnacles could be.

      The kitchen door opened and Mom and Dad came in with the bucket of clams.

      Uh-oh, here it comes, thought Sam.

      “Your father and I have decided …”

      Now, I’m really in for it.

      “… that your sore foot should slow you down long enough to think about your disobedience,” said Mom. “And you had a good enough scare being stranded on that island, so we’re not going to ground you.”

      That’s it? wondered Sam. I can’t believe it!

      “However,” Dad continued.

      Uh-oh, the dreaded “however.”

      “If you’re going to work with me on the boat someday, you’re going to have to learn to respect the tide and the sea. The tide doesn’t slow down just because you’re having too much fun playing in the mud. You’re also going to have to learn to listen and follow instructions. I can’t have a deckhand who doesn’t pay attention.”

      Sam nodded miserably. He dreamed of deckhanding for Dad when he was older. He was mad at himself for acting like a little kid. Still, this was pretty light punishment.

      Maybe if he looked really sorry and pathetic, he could get off with just the lecture.

      Not so lucky.

      Time to Eat!

      Mom looked stern as she said, “Sam, for the next six weeks, you’ll be forfeiting your allowance to help pay for a new pair of boots.”

      “Yes, Mom,” mumbled Sam.

      There went his spending money for an upcoming class trip to Homer. Oh well, he thought, it could be worse.

      “I’ve got to rinse down the tools and check on the boat,” Dad said to Mom. “If you’ll make lunch for us hungry clam-hunters, I’ll fix a chowder for dinner.”

      “Sounds good,” replied Mom, “as long as you throw in your buttermilk biscuits.”

      “It’s a deal,” smiled Dad.

      Sam watched Mom work. She steamed the giant clam in a little water until the shell opened and the clam inside was firm. Then she cleaned dark green algae out of its stomach and chopped the clam into pieces.

      “Sam, this really is the biggest clam I’ve ever seen,” said Mom. “Imagine—one clam feeding three people for lunch!”

      She dipped each piece in beaten egg and then rolled it in bread crumbs and cornmeal. In a heavy cast-iron skillet, Mom heated bacon grease until it sputtered. Then she tossed in the pieces of breaded clam and fried them until they were golden brown.

      Dad stamped his feet on the mat and came through the kitchen door: “Smells great in here!”

      He sat down and Mom gave them each a small heap of fried clam. Sam’s very large clam was absolutely delicious—hot, buttery, and salty fresh like the sea.

      After lunch, Dad rubbed stinky ointment into the sole of Sam’s foot and wrapped it in a clean, soft piece of old sheet. Sam helped him shuck all the little clams for the chowder they would have for dinner.

      Dad set a big pot on the back of the range and brought a little water to a fierce boil. He placed handfuls of clams in the pot until their shells steamed open wide. Then, he removed them with a big slotted spoon into a bowl to cool.

      Using a small knife, Sam scooped the clams out of their shells and into another bowl.

      Next, Sam helped his mother chop potatoes, onions, carrots, and celery. Dad strained some of the cooking water from the clams into a bowl, then rinsed out the big pot and set it back on the range. Dad cut up a slab of bacon and browned it in the pot with some garlic and the onion and celery. Then, he added the potatoes and carrots and the cooking water from the clams.

      When the potatoes were soft, he dumped in Sam’s bowl of shucked clams. Dad grabbed a can of creamed corn from the pantry and added it to the pot. Mom chopped fresh parsley, and shook in rosemary and dill. Then on went the lid, and down went the heat.

      Last but not least, Dad stirred in rich canned milk. Together with his homemade biscuits, this was the tastiest dinner Sam could imagine!