A Pocketful of Passage

9. In Trouble

As I got older I developed a real knack for getting into trouble . I wasn’t naughty on purpose, just curious and full of energy and imagination. Unfortunately, that summer my imagination continued to get Jo and me into trouble. One hot summer afternoon there was heavy traffic in the passage. A steady procession of “down bound” freighters headed south and east to the locks at Sault Ste. Marie. Jo and I watched them from our rocky playhouse. “Hey, let’s play mermaid!” I said, recalling a magazine 52 In Trouble 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀52 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:45฀PM ad I had seen in the keeper’s book box. The Coast Guard always sent portable libraries or book boxes to the remote stations. When the Amaranth brought supplies, the crew also delivered a fresh box of books and magazines and took away the old box. I loved National Geographic but was never fond of the spelling and arithmetic workbooks they sent. “How do you play mermaid?” Jo asked. “Well, first we have to take off our clothes, because mermaids don’t wear shorts. Next, we have to climb out on those rocks like we’re climbing out of the sea. Then we sit like mermaids on the tip of that rock and wave to the ships. When they see us, they’ll blow their whistles!” I pointed to the farthest rock on our point. “We’re not supposed to play out there,” Jo said flatly. “We’re supposed to stay here on the playhouse rocks.” “I know, but we could see the boats better from that rock, and they could see us. Wouldn’t it be neat if they blew their whistles at us?” “Yeah,” Jo nodded her head slowly. “But do you really think we need to be naked?” “Well, not all the way naked,” I said. “You can leave on your underpants.” I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped off my sneakers. “C’mon Jo,” I urged, “Let’s go!” Within minutes we wore only our underwear. The sun was hot on our skin, but the breeze from the lake was delightfully cool. Then Jo and I climbed very carefully across In Trouble 53 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀53 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:45฀PM the jagged rocks. Patches of rough lichen scratched our feet, but where the rocks were bare and wet it was slippery. Waves splashed against the dark stone and poured into the narrow crevices between the boulders. “That’s cold!” shrieked Jo when the spray from a large wave drenched her. “It feels great! Mermaids love the sea!” I shouted back. “Keep going! We’re almost there!” Finally we could go no farther. We had reached the last exposed rock where the breeze was brisk and the waves pounded against the boulders. “Sit here,” I said, pointing to a flat spot, high above the sparkling water, “and wave to that freighter!” So Jo and I perched on the rock with our backs to the lighthouse and deep water all around us. We waved and called to an immense freighter probably two miles off the point, certain the captain would see us. He did not. But Daddy did. He was in the lantern room in the tower when he noticed our game. We never heard him come up behind us. “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was very stern. I jumped, startled. “Hi, Daddy,” I said. Although he didn’t sound angry, my father did not look very happy. “I asked you a question, Annie. What are you doing out on these rocks?” A Pocketful of Passage 54 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀54 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:46฀PM “Playing mermaid,” I whispered and felt my cheeks flush red and hot. My father squatted down beside us. “Your mother and I have told you many times that these rocks are dangerous. If big waves came in, you’d both be swept away in a second. We’d never find you, Annie. You know how fast weather changes on this lake. You are old enough to know better. I’m disappointed in you.” Those words stung worse than a spanking. I never wanted to disappoint my father. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said. I stared at my toes, unable to look into his disapproving eyes. “Me too,” said Jo. “It was Annie’s idea.” “I...