Read Megan's Island for Free Online Page B

how . . .
    No. She remembered now, Mom had said he wasn’t an outdoorsman, so he probably hadn’t gone canoeing. Well, it hadn’t looked hard. Grandpa had said to be careful, because it tipped over easily, but even if it did, she could swim, couldn’t she?
    Out on the lake, she could see the spot of bright orange that was Sandy’s life jacket. She supposed she’d better wear one, too, just in case.
    Tentatively, Megan lifted the edge of the canoe. It wasn’t all that heavy; it rolled over, right-side-up, revealing the paddles that had been hidden beneath it. It was certainly easier to move into the water than the rowboat had been; easy enough so that it almost got away from her, and she took a couple of quick steps—wetting the bottoms of her pants legs—to catch it. Put the paddles in first, then shove off into the very shallow water, and get in—carefully, carefully!
    Did she need both paddles? Unless there were two people in the canoe, she’d only need one, but she recalled what Grandpa had said about losing one. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have them both, just in case.
    The canoe seemed fragile and unstable, compared to the rowboat. However, even though she felt awkward and insecure, she liked the way the slender vessel glided over the surface of the lake, as light as one of the little white butterflies that fluttered along the shore.
    If she just remembered not to move suddenly, she didn’t think she’d overturn the canoe. At first she moved parallel to the shore, in water where she could see the bottom only a few feet below her, and then she grew braver and turned the bow out toward the island.
    Paddling the canoe wasn’t quite as simple as she’d supposed. She wasn’t sure how those people in the movies dipped into the water on only one side and managed to go straight ahead; when she tried it, she went in circles. And it was hard to lift the paddle out of the water, moving it from side to side, in order to go straighter. There must be some trick to this, she decided.
    Nevertheless, she was heading toward the island, which was where she wanted to go. And in one way it was easier in the canoe than in the boat; you sat facing in the direction you were traveling.
    She had to learn some new maneuvers to work her way around to the far side of the island, to the little cove with the sandy beach. There, it was easy to grasp the prow and haul the canoe up onto the sand, where it would stay until she was ready to leave.
    She explored the entire island again, which didn’t take very long because it wasn’t very big, and gradually felt a sense of peace overtake her. It was so quiet. The sun was warm on her bare arms and face, and the slight breeze was cool.
    It was only when she stood at the highest point on the pinkish-gray rocks and looked toward the cottage on the mainland that she came back to reality.
    The cottage sat looking deserted in the afternoon sunshine. There was nothing moving.
    Safe, her mother had said. They would be safe here with Grandpa.
    It would never have occurred to Megan that they were not safe if her mother hadn’t said that.
    Was that why they’d run away from home late at night and come here? Because they were not safe at home?
    But what was the danger?
    Far up the beach, two tiny figures stirred. A man—their neighbor in the log cabin—was walking on the beach with a dog. The man threw a stick into the water, and the dog swam out to retrieve it.
    She wished she had a dog. Watching the pair, the man throwing the stick, the dog plunging into the lake after it, made her feel lonely. She wished Annie were here. Annie would help her figure out what was going on. Annie would make her laugh.
    She didn’t want to watch the man and his dog. Seeing them only made her feel more lonely. Usually she and her brother agreed on things, but Sandy didn’t seem to be taking this matter seriously. Not as seriously as