Lisa Lee pushed square glasses up on her nose and set a smile on her face. ElsBeth could tell the last thing Lisa Lee wanted to do was go shopping.
“The marsh ecosystem changes every day,” she said to the space between ElsBeth and Veronica. “I need to take notes.” Her shiny, straight black hair waved good-bye as she turned and made her own way to the shore.
Some people felt Lisa Lee was a know-it-all and didn’t like to hang around with her. But she pretty much did know everything, and that, ElsBeth had found out on more than one occasion, was pretty useful.
“Come on.” ElsBeth tugged at Veronica. “Not everyone loves shopping the way you do.”
“That still doesn’t mean they’re right.” Veronica grinned, and gave ElsBeth’s wild hair a quick pull.
But ElsBeth ignored her. A small funnel cloud had formed up ahead, swirling together some sand, a few saltwater taffy wrappers, and a cardboard clam roll holder. It danced in the distance, slowly at first then faster and faster.
The pale cloud whipped around and rushed straight at them. Squealing seagulls circled above, beaks snapping.
Veronica squawked and flapped her arms, and the screeching gulls took off.
“Nasty things. By end of summer they’re so used to people-food they have no fear.”
ElsBeth just stared, still as stone. Something unnatural was definitely in play, but she hadn’t a clue what.
She shook her head again, uneasy now, and moved forward with her friend down the street toward the sea.
***
Not far away, Robert Hillman-Jones and the boys were also out and about this fine morning.
Hillman-Jones turned the corner, shook the longish brown hair off his eyes and frowned. He threw out his arm to halt the others. “Guys, it’s Veronica and ElsBeth.”
“We’d better take the other way to the marina,” said Johnny, his Wampanoag friend. “Those two will totally want to know what we’re doing.”
“Yeah, and they’ll want to be involved.” Robert squinted at them. “My plans definitely don’t include any girls. Come on.”
The pack of wild boys raced down Crescent Drive to Quahog Way, over to Queen Ann Road, and had just turned the corner back toward Main Street when ... smack. Robert ran dead into ElsBeth.
She bounced off him and hit the brick sidewalk. Hard.
“Oh, sorry, ElsBeth.” Hillman-Jones was so surprised he was actually polite for once.
***
Pooped out from chasing Winston Nickerson and starting to feel hungry, ElsBeth was not feeling polite back.
She was often a little touchy where Hillman-Jones was concerned … and pooped out and cranky, and knocked over by Robert Hillman-Jones, she was pretty near at her worst.
With ElsBeth Amelia Thistle, at her worst or not, there was always the complicating factor that she was a witch. And though she was mostly a helpful witch — she tried to be anyway — it would have to be said she had a bit of a temper.
A young witch with something of a temper, hungry and exhausted from herding toddlers at Library Story Hour, was probably not something any twelve-year-old boy would want to confront. With Robert Hillman-Jones it was trouble times ten. Because ElsBeth and he just didn’t mix. They had a history.
Which probably accounted for her charged reaction, though she carefully withheld casting any spell. Grandmother didn’t allow that, and she tried to do what Grandmother said. Really.
ElsBeth stomped her foot, her hair flew out like electric sparks, she felt her eyes fire up neon bright. She didn’t exactly shout, but her words carried the high voltage of her built-up frustration with this character.
“Robert Hillman-Jones! What do you mean sneaking like that? You jumped out at us on purpose.”
She never could understand how he justified his smugness and was pleased to see Robert lean back to avoid her blast ... and not completely succeed.
His smirk, for the moment at least, slipped away.
But then she had the really uncomfortable feeling she was hearing Robert’s thoughts. This hadn’t happened before.
“It’s true I usually do jump out at her and I’m not going to apologize for that. But this time it was an accident — I was trying to avoid them. Which just goes to prove girls are beyond any rational understanding.”
Veronica chose that moment to butt in. She stepped in front of ElsBeth, leaning into the boys’ space. “Yes, what are you boys doing? You look as if you are up to something.”
Veronica always looked like a perfect, caramel-colored doll. But everyone knew she set the bar for cranky.
Most of the boys turned various shades of red.
Johnny looked up and asked the sky, “How come girls can always make you feel guilty?”
Robert recovered quickly, but came back with his usual cover-up. “None of your business, Veronica.”
Johnny rolled his eyes at Robert — who seemed to realize, too late, that once Veronica got suspicious she’d hang on like an Atlantic blue crab to some especially tasty bait.
ElsBeth held back a giggle. She didn’t want to interrupt Veronica. This was going to be fun.
Veronica whispered to her, “They are up to something.”
The boys looked down or away, anywhere but at the girls. Some shuffled nervously.
Nelson Hamm cracked. His ears went crimson and his glasses fogged up, an always-reliable sign Nelson had lost it.
He ran his hand over his unfortunate, new-school-year haircut, which stuck out in all directions. He blurted out, “We’re taking Uncle Preston’s yacht.”
All heads turned to Nelson.
“Awww, Nelson,” Hillman-Jones moaned in disgust.
“Sorry, guys,” Nelson said. “Veronica got to me.”
ElsBeth nodded to herself. Veronica did have that effect on people. Then it sunk in.
“You’re stealing your Uncle Preston’s yacht?” ElsBeth’s eyebrows shot up like twin peaks.
“We’re just going to sail around the islands. Uncle Preston had to go to New York and my parents are in Europe. Nani will think we’re out playing around all day. No big deal.”
Robert seemed to have that all figured out, but she felt his thoughts skitter, and they jangled in her head again.
“Will the girls rat on us? I don’t think ElsBeth will, but I’m not sure about Veronica. She’s a wild card.”
ElsBeth felt him make a snap decision, like he stood on the brakes.
“OK. You can come with us.” Robert tried to sound friendly but didn’t.
ElsBeth crossed her arms and eyeballed Hillman-Jones. He continually surprised her. He invited them along, and seemed to think that made it OK to take his uncle’s yacht.
But he did have her attention.
She had to think. Taking the yacht wasn’t exactly honest. And she knew it was of the utmost importance for a witch to be honest. Dishonesty, she knew personally, was a fast road to losing her magic. Still, Uncle Preston did always host the annual summer sail to Martha’s Vineyard for all Robert’s guy friends. And it would be great if the girls finally had a chance to go.
Before