Do you think we’ll see any pirates?” asked Benny Alden. He pressed his face against the window of the taxi and peered out at the drawbridge that was raised in front of them.
“Oh, Benny!” said his sister Jessie. She was twelve, six years older than Benny. “Of course not. No pirates live in Charleston!”
“Where do they live?” asked Benny. A fishing boat, hung with nets, slid through the narrow channel of marshy water beneath the bridge. The drawbridge began to close.
“Pirates lived a long, long time ago, Benny,” said fourteen-year-old Henry Alden. “There are no pirates now.”
Benny looked disappointed. He said stubbornly, “I’m going to be a pirate when I grow up anyway. I’ll have a big ship, and Watch and I will make people walk the plank!”
The other Aldens laughed at that. Watch Alden, a small black and white terrier curled on Henry’s lap, barked.
Then ten-year-old Violet, always gentle and kind, said, “Benny, you wouldn’t make anybody really walk the plank. Would you?”
“Maybe not,” said Benny. “I guess I can’t be a real pirate after all. But I still wish I could see one.”
Suddenly the taxi driver spoke. “And even if you don’t see any pirates, young man, you might see a pirate’s treasure.”
Benny bounced up and down in excitement. “Really?”
“You never know,” said the cab driver. “After all, the legends and stories all say that pirates used to stop on Sullivans Island. The famous writer Edgar Allan Poe even wrote a story about finding pirate gold buried there! The library on Sullivans Island is named after him: the Edgar Allan Poe Library.”
After the drawbridge closed, they crossed the bridge to Sullivans Island, a small island off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina. The Alden children and their grandfather were on their way to visit Mrs. Ellen Ashleigh, who lived in one of the big old houses on the island. A hurricane had recently blown through Charleston, and right across Sullivans Island. Benny forgot about pirates when he saw what the hurricane had done.
“How fast does the wind from a hurricane blow?” asked Benny, staring at a house that had no roof at all.
“Hurricanes are the strongest of all the storms,” answered Grandfather Alden. “The winds can blow a hundred and fifty miles an hour or more.”
“It blew the water from the ocean right across this island,” said the cab driver. “It filled all the houses with water and mud.”
“Look at that boat!” exclaimed Jessie. The hurricane had left a boat behind on the middle of the island, right in the center of the road.
“Yep,” said the cab driver, carefully driving his car around the boat. “This was one of the worst hurricanes yet. It blew whole houses away. Cars and boats, too. But we’ll rebuild. We’ve never let a hurricane defeat us yet!”
He pulled the cab to a stop in front of a large two story silvery gray house with a wide front porch. Instead of corners at each end, it had round rooms on both the first and second floor, like towers.
Shutters framed the windows. Some of them were closed, with boards nailed across them. Railings were missing from the porch. A tree had fallen in the yard. Boards had been ripped from the porch itself. And there were no front steps! But someone had already been cleaning up. A pile of branches was heaped neatly in one side of the yard.
“Oh, dear,” said Violet. “Did the hurricane do all that?”
“Don’t worry, Violet. We can fix it,” said Henry confidently.
“Yes,” agreed Jessie. “After all, that’s why we’re here — to help Mrs. Ashleigh fix her house.”
“Good luck,” said the cab driver as the Aldens got out of the cab. He winked at Benny. “And good luck finding that pirate’s treasure!” he added.
Just then a tall, graceful woman with short black and silver hair came hurrying out of the house. She stepped carefully off the front porch and held out her hands as she walked up to them. “James Alden,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you. I’m so glad to see all of you!”
She hugged Mr. Alden and all of the Aldens, even Watch. Then she led the way back to the house. “Watch your step,” she said when they reached the front porch. “The hurricane blew our front steps away. I imagine they are at the bottom of the ocean now!”
Suddenly Benny started to laugh. “It’s just like the step for our boxcar,” he said. He pointed. Where the front steps had been, Mrs. Ashleigh had put a stump as a temporary step.
“Your boxcar?” asked Mrs. Ashleigh.
“We used to live in a boxcar,” said Jessie. “Before Grandfather found us.”
The Boxcar Children told Mrs. Ashleigh about how, after their parents had died, they had gone to live in an old boxcar in the woods. They didn’t know that their grandfather was looking for them and wanted them to come live with him. When he found them, he’d brought them all to his house in Greenfield. As a surprise, and to make them feel more at home, he’d brought the boxcar, too. He’d put it behind the house and now they could visit it whenever they wanted.
Hearing the story of the Boxcar Children, Mrs. Ashleigh smiled. “Well, I’m glad my house has a stump for a front step, just like your boxcar does, then,” she said. “It will make you feel more at home.”
“But soon you’ll have stairs,” said Henry. “Because we’ll fix them for you.”
Watch gave a little bark and hopped up the stump onto the front porch. He looked over his shoulder at everyone as if to say, Let’s get to work.
“Okay, boy. Here we come,” said Benny. And the Aldens went inside with Mrs. Ashleigh.
Inside the house Jessie said, “But there is no furniture! Oh, dear, Mrs. Ashleigh! Did the hurricane blow it all away?”
Mrs. Ashleigh laughed and shook her head. “No. With the help of my neighbors, I got the furniture moved upstairs before the hurricane hit. Now that things are drying out and I’ve got most of the first floor cleaned up and repainted, I’ve just started moving it back down. We boarded up the windows and the water didn’t get any higher than the first floor. I was one of the lucky people. I didn’t lose much. Except . . .” She stopped and sighed.
“What?” said Violet, clasping her hands.
“Well, the hurricane took one very, very valuable thing of mine,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “The most valuable thing I own. It’s priceless. The Pirate’s Gate.” |