Chapter 1 The Sometimes Island "Here we are," Mom said, turning the car off. In the front seat, Hattie stuck her head out the window, her eyes wide. "Are you serious?" " This is Granddaddy''s house?" Bee demanded. "Oh no, of course not," Mom said. "Your brother and I are going there now. This house belongs to a wicked witch who eats little girls for dinner. Out you go!" "Mom!" the Snolly sisters groaned in unison. Theodore, their baby brother, gave a snort of laughter from his car seat, as if delighted by the idea of a sister-eating witch.
Bee poked his tummy teasingly. Dore giggled and waved his tiny fists, which Bee carefully avoided. Dore always seemed to have something unpleasant in his fists--sometimes a sticky glob of food saved from his last meal; other times a dead worm or beetle. Once, he''d had an actual frog, still alive and springy, which had leaped into Hattie''s hair as soon as he opened his hand. None of the other Snollys could figure out where he''d found it. They hadn''t known they had frogs in their dull suburb, which was mostly concrete and shopping malls. "Well, three girls are a handful, you know," Mom said with a sigh. "Your granddaddy will miss you.
Not too much, of course--abandoning you to the witch was his idea." "Mom!" "All right, all right." Her hand hovered over the unlock button, but she didn''t press it. "Now, remember what I told you. Your grandfather may be a little different, but he''s still your grandfather. The illness is in the early stages, and it''s slow." The Snolly sisters nodded. Bee didn''t know why Mom kept saying that Granddaddy''s illness was "slow," as if that was supposed to make them feel better.
"What are the three rules?" Mom said. "Don''t argue with Granddaddy if he says something wrong," Hattie said. "Don''t be too--noisy?" Plum said. Mom nodded. "Good luck with that," Bee muttered. Plum was like a four-foot-tall tornado. Mom looked at her, and Bee sighed. "If Granddaddy gets confused and needs help, come and get you.
" Mom nodded again. She unlocked the doors, and the Snolly sisters piled out. Literally. Hattie tripped on Mab, their one-eyed black cat, and tumbled onto the ground. Then Plum was so excited for the long drive to be over that she tried to jump past Bee and ended up on top of both sisters. "Girls!" Mom said. This was one of Mom''s favorite words. Sometimes it simply meant Come here, sometimes it meant You''re making me laugh so hard, my side hurts, and other times it meant If you keep that up, I''m going to tear out my hair.
This time it was a combination of the first and third meanings, Bee thought. "Get off," Bee grumbled, giving Plum a shove. Bee was a whole two years older than Plum, but she was short for a ten-year-old and Plum was tall for an eight-year-old, so they were almost the same size. Additionally, Plum was bony and seemed to have more knees and elbows than most people. Bee hitched up her green backpack, which she carried with her everywhere she went, and helped Mom unload the car. The house itself wasn''t what had astonished her, though it was a pretty house, small and seashell-white with lots of windows and a somewhat overgrown garden. It was the where of the house that was the astonishing thing: It sat on the edge of a low bluff overlooking the sea. And, oh, the sea! It stretched out and out, blue and green and black all together, wrinkled with waves.
A thick fog hovered offshore, stretching its tendrils out like an octopus, and the wind was cool and salty. Below Granddaddy''s house was a perfect beach that went on and on until it faded into the fog. "Mom!" Hattie exclaimed. "Granddaddy has a beach in his backyard . In his backyard!" "What if the waves hit his house?" Plum said. "They don''t," Bee said. "You can tell by the driftwood down there--see? That''s as high as the tide gets." Plum looked disappointed.
Knowing her, she probably liked the idea of being woken up in the night by waves splashing through her window. "Look!" Hattie said. "There''s an island out there." So there was. The fog had parted, revealing a dark mound of trees and rocky banks poking up out of the water. The fog closed up again before Bee could get a good look, like a curtain drawing across a window. "That''s Fairy Island," Mom said, bending over the bags in the trunk. Her dark hair was spilling out of its bun.
"It''s part of your grandfather''s property." Plum''s eyes bulged. " Fairy Island?" "Yes--bit of a silly name, if you ask me. It''s not even an island. Well, sometimes it is." "Granddaddy owns an island?" Hattie demanded. "Is he a millionaire?" "Does it have coconut trees?" Plum said. "You can''t have a sometimes island," Bee said.
"That''s impossible. Things are either islands or they''re not." "Yes, no, no, and yes, you can," Mom said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It''s an island at high tide. At low tide, it''s connected to the cove. And I''m afraid it''s not worth much, Hattie. It''s protected by law, which means you can''t build anything on it." Bee and Hattie exchanged looks.
A beach in their backyard, and a mysterious island all to themselves? Things just kept getting better and better. "Did you play on the island when you were little, Mommy?" Plum said, pushing up her hairband, which was part of her dinosaur costume--it had a row of papier-m'ché horns glued onto it. Plum wore Halloween costumes all year, most handmade by Mom or scavenged at local thrift stores, and the dinosaur costume was one of her favorites. In addition to the hairband, it consisted of a green vest that zipped at the front and had a row of stegosaurus scales made of felt and wire running down the back, and a long green tail stuffed with cotton batting. "No, I never really liked going there when I was a girl." Mom paused, and a frown passed over her face. "I don''t remember why--isn''t that strange? I suppose it was because I preferred to stay inside with my books. That''s enough chattering, now--Hattie, hon, give me a hand with this stuff.
" Hattie picked up a suitcase and a bag. Bee picked up Mab, who had wandered off to sniff the garden. "You''ll have to be careful here," she told the cat. "You can''t wander far. Mom says there are wolves and bears in Misty Cove." Mab regarded her with an equal measure of calm and pity in her big green eye, as if to say, Wolves and bears would gobble you up easy, but they''re no match for ME. Bee, on the other hand, wasn''t calm at all--she was bubbling with excitement. Like the others, she''d been looking forward to spending half the summer at Granddaddy''s for months, ever since Mom had started making plans.
They hadn''t been to Granddaddy''s house since Bee was little, too little to remember--it was far away, a long drive that included an expensive ferry, so Granddaddy usually flew to Vancouver to visit them. Plum did cartwheels up the lawn, which was bumpy from the roots of two towering cedars. "Where does dew come from, Mommy?" she said between leaps. "Dew?" Mom paused to adjust one of the bags slung over her shoulder. "That''s what comes out of clouds when they sneeze. I thought you knew that." "Mom," Hattie groaned. "I know," Mom said, shaking her head sadly.
" There is no darkness but ignorance, as Shakespeare says. I must do a better job of teaching you girls the ways of the world. Imagine not knowing where dew comes from, at your age!" Plum turned to Hattie. "Do clouds really sneeze?" "Of course," Mom answered. "You think I would lie to my own offspring? Perish the thought!" "They don''t sneeze," Hattie said. "Where does it come from, then?" "I don''t know. Ask Bee." Bee knew that dew came from water in the air, because she''d read it in one of her science books.
But Mom had already given her a wink, and she had winked back, so she said loudly, "Gosh, look at all this dew. The clouds in Misty Cove must have a cold." Hattie groaned even louder. Mom smiled, but then her expression grew serious. "Don''t forget, girls: Your grandfather is still your grandfather. If he misplaces a memory once in a while, it doesn''t change that." "You said that, Mommy," Plum said. "Like two minutes ago," Hattie said.
Mom let out a slow breath. "It''s important, so I''m saying it again." Plum nodded solemnly. Bee felt a knot tighten in her stomach, a knot that had been there since Mom had told them that Granddaddy was sick. The door of the house flew open, and there stood Granddaddy. His gray hair was as messy as Bee remembered, and he was wearing an apron that said Cookies Are a Food Group. "Alice! Children! Good grief, it''s like having a traveling circus turn up at your door. I''m sorry, but you won''t all fit in the cottage--you''ll have to find a hotel.
" Mom laughed and hugged him. Despite his gruff voice, Bee could see that Granddaddy''s eyes were warm. He looked and sounded like the same old Granddaddy, and Bee felt relief wash over her. Like the other Snolly children, Bee had once been afraid of Granddaddy. He was tall and round and quiet, a large shape in the corner at family gatherings, gazing out from beneath his joined-up eyebrows. He taught junior-high science before he retired, though Bee.