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and I knew that I’d never make it. The waves crashed against the rocks on Little Island. Despite my frantic paddling, we hardly moved, and my arms were aching so badly I had to give them a rest. I raised the paddle, slammed it across the gunwales, and watched helplessly as Gran’s shore steadily moved away from us.

Chapter Nine
    ANOTHER white-hot streak of lightning and deep roll of thunder collided right above our heads, and a musky smell of rain-washed pines and earth swept over us. Then the sky opened up. Huge drops of water splatted sideways into the white-capped waves. In a few seconds they became heavy curtains of pounding rain.
    I tried paddling again — hard on the left and then the right, then hard left backpaddle, then right. Paddling hard going nowhere. I don’t need to tell you that I hadn’t brought a life jacket along. If Gran found out I’d be better off dead.
    Dead?
    This thought got the paddle going in double quick time. The wind was strong. I looked behind. The needle rocks of Little Island were waiting. I was doomed.
    â€œEeeelizabeth!” came a wavery voice through the grey wall in front of me. “Eeelizaaabeth! Can you seee meee? I’m over heere.”
    It took me a second or two to figure out that it was a live human being in a boat, not some spook from Rain Island. The driver was sitting in a half crouch at the back of the boat, straining to see through the rain. It was Tim.
    I was awfully glad to see him. Probably for the first time ever. Then it dawned on me that he hadn’t seen
me
. The brim of his gob hat had fallen into his eyes.
    â€œTurn the handle! Hey, Tim!” I screamed, standing up, and waving my arms. “Turn the boat! Push the handle. Turn the ... turn the ...”
    As usual, he had to think this out. Of course, he had to push his hat back and wave.
Then
he turned the handle and cut the engine. That way, he hit us broadside instead of head on. If I’d been sitting down, I could have kept Bram and myself from falling in. But I wasn’t. So we did.
    â€œElizabeth!” I heard Tim bellow as I went under.
    From where I was, heads up in the water, I could see he had hold of Bram’s collar with one hand and the Beetle with the other. He hauled Bram in, flipped the Beetle over and dropped it bottom-up over the seats. I waved and swam through the slanting downpour and caught his outstretched hand. He patted all three of us in turn, just to make sure, I think, that we were actually in the boat.
    The wind was tipping us up and over the waves towards Little Island. We’d have to move fast.
    â€œDo you want me to drive?” I shouted, spluttering through the rain that was filling my mouth. “I know that motor. It’s tricky.”
    â€œI’m okay,” he shouted back. “I’ve been driving it back and forth in front of Terry’s for the past hour. I’ve got it down to a science.” He grinned through his dripping beard.
    â€œPut the handle just above start,” I called hopping to the middle seat to get closer. “Gran’s fixed it so many times that it only starts in —”
    â€œStart?” he asked, looking intently at the steaming engine. “Right. I wasn’t putting it there before. It still started. Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
    â€œDon’t! Don’t start it in start,” I cried, then ducked as he stood up and gave the rope a gigantic pull, and another. And another.
    Finally it dawned on him that all the muscle in the world was not going to start that damn engine. The rain didn’t mind. It just kept pouring down like sand out of a dump truck. Tim, by this time, was looking helplessly around, pulling and straining. I didn’t want a sock in the side of the head, so I kicked him in the ankle. Hard.
    â€œOuch! Elizabeth, what the —”
    â€œGet out of the way!” I shrieked in his face. “Unless you want to end up on those