Elle Thornton - The Girl Who Swam to Atlantis

Copyright 2012 by Elle Thornton

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1-4664-3168-7

ISBN-13: 9781466431683

Cover design by Cynthia Enuton

Ebook conversion by Fowler Digital Services
Formatted by: Ray Fowler

dedication: For Emmett Till

We Must Never Forget

The leaves are beginning to show red and yellow now, but inmy heart its still summer in North Carolina, and Ive just seen Hawkins forthe first time. He is standing beside the river. My new friend Trish and Iwatch him reach for a cigarette in a pocket of his Marine fatigues. He lightsit and smokes, his gaze fixed on the water. We make faces and elbow each otherbehind thick bushes. Spying seems funny until he spins around on his long legsand strides toward our hiding place. He stops about six feet away.

You in there, make yourselves known.And be quick about it. With the toe of his heavy combat boot, he grinds thecigarette to shreds in the sandy dirt.

Trish tugs at my T-shirt sleeve andgestures toward the woods behind us. She wants us to get out of here. But if Itry to run, I believe hed catch me for sure. Besides, I want to talk with himsome because of the way hes been looking at the river, kind of like it has himunder its spell. Well, that sure is true for me.

I pull away from Trish and stumbleout of the bushes.

Below the brim of his military caphis face is in shadow. But I can see his fierce scowl and the jagged scar thatrolls from one eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. It cuts deep into his brownskin. He sets his big hands on his hips and looks down at me. Tell me who youare, young lady.

Im Gabriella. I make myself soundbold, but Ive done an about-face on the topic of running. Im seriouslythinking it over right now. Then Trish steps out of the bushes. And this isTrish.

You can call me Hawkins. His voiceis rough.

Trish taps the face of herwristwatch. Cmon. Ive got to go somewhere.

Hawkins nods. All right, then, youtwo young ladies try and stay out of trouble. I think I see a slight smile,but hes turning away from us and I cant be sure.

Three swept-wing fighter jets shrieklow overhead. Hawkins takes off his military cap and wipes sweat from his brow.He sets the cap back on his head as he watches the jets soar beyond the bluewall of sky. Then he walks to the river where it makes a pool beneath the limbsof leafy trees.

Trish is already trotting through thewoods. When I catch up with her, we both start laughing about our encounterwith the scar-faced man. Were puffed up with ourselves like the pale mushroomsgrowing from the forest floor.

Trish pops a stick of Juicy Fruit guminto her mouth. Lets race.

Just then a gust of wind makes thetrees creak. Long pieces of curly gray moss flutter from twisted branches likehairs torn from a head.

We yell and whirl away. Ahead of me Trishssturdy legs pump like engines. I cant believe were both going into seventhgrade in the fall. Shes big all over. She even wears a bra.

We bust out of the trees between agarage and a one-room building. Theres a cardboard box on its doorstep. A pathleads directly between the small building and the kitchen at the generalsquarters. Thats where I live.

Tall pines grow in the yard. We walkunder them toward the front of the house, and I ask Trish about getting togetheragain. Shes going out west with her family. Shell call in a few weeks whenshe gets back, she says, and I watch her run home through the pines.

Upstairs in my room I drop onto anarrow bed. I nap until clattering from the kitchen below wakes me. I wonderwhos down there. I know it isnt Mama cooking supper. And it isnt thegeneral.

In the trenches of my brain I thinkof him as the general instead of father or dad. He wears silver stars on hisuniform. He watches over hundreds of men, jets, and helicopters. His job is tomake sure theyre ready to fly and fight. Everyone salutes him.

When hes annoyed theres this musclethat sometimes snaps in one side of his jaw. Muscles in both sides of his jawsnap when hes greatly annoyed. But hes never raised his voice in anger atMama or me.

His voice reaches me now as I starttoward the stairs. Gabriella, get a move on. Chow time.

Yes, sir.

At the bottom of the stairs he graspsmy elbow and steers me to the dining room. We sit at opposite ends of a longtable. The kitchen door swings open, and a tall man strides into the roomcarrying a silver pitcher.

As he fills our glasses with icewater, my face grows hot. Its the man Id spied on and laughed at with Trish.After pouring water, he serves us meatloaf, potatoes, and green beans. I keepmy gaze stuck to my plate like weeks-old gravy and grits. I dont like beingwaited on.

Hawkins, have you stowed your gearyet?

Its rare when the general speaks, soI look up from my plate.

Yes, sir. Hawkins turns his head inthe direction of the little building at the place where Trish and I came out ofthe woods. The cardboard box is no longer on its doorstep.

Just say the word if you need anything.

Ill do that, sir.

By the way, this is Gabriella, mydaughter. Gabriella, this is Hawkins.

I met the young lady and her friendthis afternoon.

The general frowns. They didnt makea nuisance of themselves, did they?

No, sir.

Hawkins leans a shoulder into thekitchen door so that it swings open. He steps inside. The door swings closed,cutting off the sound of music from a radio and the whir and click of a metalfan.

The general pushes his plate to oneside. Theres still plenty of food on it. A lighted cigarette balances in anashtray next to his plate. His face is gray and tired.

I tell him about Trish. He doesntsay anything until I stand and start to carry my dirty dishes toward thekitchen.

Hold on. Just what do you thinkyoure doing?

Trying to make myself useful, sir.

You are to stay out of Hawkinssway. Let him do his job. And dont ask him to do anything special like makecookies, cakes, and pies for you and your friends. Do I make myself clear?

I about roll on the floor snorting.Why would I ask Hawkins to make cakes and pies? I want the general to see me being helpful anddoing things really well on my own.

But, sir, is all he allows me tosay.

Gabriella, you are to sit down untilyou are excused. He waves in the direction of my chair.

If only I can show him Im good atdoing something on my own, I feel sure he wont send me north to St. AgathasBoarding School for Girls again in the fall. Also, if I help out in thekitchen, no one can call me a spoiled generals daughter. And Mama always likesit when I fix meals for her and do the dishes.

At the far end of the table the generalstares out the window into the growing darkness. Mama told me he sometimes goesfar away in his thoughts to be with his men from the big war and Korea.Tendrils of smoke drift across his face from the cigarette that burns forgottenin its ashtray.

I set the stack of dishes on thetable. And I sit down.

I jump from the back porch steps to the lawn. The garage,Hawkinss quarters, and the woods where Trish and I raced are to my left.Straight ahead at the edge of the lawn a steep slope plunges below to a beachand the wide river.

I make my way down the slope, crossthe beach, and wade in. The waters warm, the sandy mud soft on my feet. Abranch of the river flows from the woods, and I follow it. Soon I find Hawkinsin the same place Trish and I spied on him yesterday. Hes sitting on a logwith a fishing pole and bucket behind him on the ground. An open book rests onhis knees.