Runaways on the Inside Passage

Joe Upton

Description

Young readers will thrill to this breathless story of courage and determination set in the Alaska wilderness. Abandoned by their mother in Seattle, thirteen year old twins Annie and David Ross enlist the help of Lars Hansen, an elderly commercial fisherman, to find their father in Alaska. In late November, when most fishing vessels are decommissioned for the winter, the trio sets out from Puget Sound in a forty foot salmon troller for an eight hundred mile journey along the Inside Passage.
Pursued by the authorities as runaways, and with Lars's health failing, the three experience one adventure after another as they inch their way North, through terrifying winter storms and frightening encounters with strangers. In the process, Annie and David also make new, lasting friendships and kindle personal reserves of strength that they didn't know existed.

Sujets

• Juvenilee Fiction
• Inside Passage
• Young-adult fiction
• Adventure
• Puget Sound
• Action

Informations

• Publié par: Turner Publishing Company
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2002
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9780882409740
• Langue: English

Extrait

Runaways
on the
Inside Passage
JOE UPTON
To my mother, Ann Upton, with deep appreciation for setting my feet on the creative path so many years ago.
Text and photographs 2002 by Joe Upton Cover illustration 2002 by Bill Farnsworth
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher.
The characters in this book are fictitious, as is the community of Hidden Cove.
L IBRARY OF C ONGRESS C ATALOGING-IN -P UBLICATION D ATA

Upton, Joe, 1946-
Runaways on the Inside Passage / Joe Upton.
p. cm.
Summary: Abandoned in Seattle by their mother, thirteen-year-old twins join an elderly fisherman friend on the long and dangerous voyage to Alaska in hopes of finding their father by Christmas.
ISBN 978-0-88240-564-3 (hardbound) - ISBN 978-0-88240-565-0 (pbk.) - ISBN 978-0-88240-974-0 (e-book)
[1. Twins-Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters-Fiction. 3. Fishers-Fiction. 4. Voyages and travels-Fiction. 5. Inside Passage-Fiction. 6. Sea stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.U583 Ru 2003
Fic]-dc21
2002000697
Copy Editor: Laura Carlsmith Foster
Design: Andrea L. Boven / Boven Design Studio, Inc.
Maps: Joe Upton
Alaska Northwest Books
An imprint of

P.O. Box 56118
Portland, OR 97238-6118
[phone]
www.graphicartsbooks.com
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Map of the Inside Passage
CHAPTER 1 Of Children and Boats
CHAPTER 2 The Going Away
CHAPTER 3 At Sea
CHAPTER 4 A Sick Mate
CHAPTER 5 Engine Trouble
CHAPTER 6 By the Queen s Pond
CHAPTER 7 In God s Pocket
CHAPTER 8 The Jeffrey Foss
CHAPTER 9 The Northern Canyons
CHAPTER 10 Race to the Cape
CHAPTER 11 The Homecoming
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Several times, when I was a commercial fisherman in Alaska, I encountered the mysterious power of the ice. Once, in a big king crab boat, we were caught by the Copper River wind-a blast of frozen air that coated our boat with a dangerously heavy layer of ice. We suited up in heavy, insulated clothes and rain gear, roped up with safety lines, and cautiously began using baseball bats to break the ice off the rails and rigging. Our brand new 120-foot boat and her experienced crew were lucky to have survived this encounter.
Another time, I had gone to Petersburg in late November in my thirty-two-foot troller to get a load of lumber for our cabin in Point Baker. A hard freeze came in the night and when we left early the next morning, we found a bay skinned over with ice. Our bow cut a lane through it, with little broken pieces skittering away across the unbroken ice around us, and it was magical.
And so, when I came to write my first novel, I wanted to share with readers this powerful phenomenon.
I am especially grateful for the efforts of Tricia Brown, Ellen Wheat, and Laura Carlsmith for showing me so many valuable aspects of the novelist s craft.
I also wish to thank Foss Maritime for their kind permission to use their name.

CHAPTER 1
Of Children and Boats

I dreamed of Christmas up North last night, David said slowly, looking out the bus windows at the rain-blurred streets.
The bus slowed and Annie stood up. C mon, David, she said. Pull up your hood. Stay dry.
The bus driver looked at the kids, wondering again where they had come from, and why they lived in such an unfriendly part of Seattle.
Hoods up, heads down, the twins stepped the best they could around the places where there was water instead of sidewalk. The morning hadn t been rainy, unusual for November, and they hadn t worn boots.
They stopped on the narrow porch of the run-down duplex, stamped the water off their sneakers, and opened the door.
The furniture was gone.
Annie, look, David said, startled, everything s gone!
She stepped wordlessly inside, crossed the small living room, and looked into the bedrooms and tiny kitchen alcove. Except for two sleeping bags and several boxes of clothes, the house was empty. Without furniture it seemed stark, dingy, and tired.
Close the door, Annie said quietly. You re letting the heat out.
David stood there for a long moment. A gust of wind eddied across the little porch, and a few raindrops pittered on the floor. Finally he closed the door. It echoed, oddly loud in the empty space. He put down his bookbag and looked around.
Maybe we re moving again, he said hopefully. Maybe Mom got that house over by the park she kept talking about.
Annie shrugged her backpack off onto the built-in table in the eating nook, rummaged around, and pulled out a package of spaghetti. She rinsed a dirty pot in the sink, filled it with water, and put it on the stove with the resigned air of a thirteen-year-old who had made many such meals.
At least the electricity is still on, she said.
David slumped his thin body onto the bench, elbows on the table, shivered involuntarily, and peered through the window at the rainy world outside. The streetlight on the corner shone on shuttered buildings and abandoned cars.
Headlights appeared in the distance and David straightened up, studying them as they came closer. But it was only a truck headed for the warehouse complex at the end of the street.
What d she say to you last night? Annie asked. Did she mention anything about moving? She didn t even talk to me.
David sighed. She was bummed. She d lost a bunch of money gambling again. I think she d been drinking, too.
What else?
She just said she d be in real bad trouble if she didn t get the money.
The water began to boil. Annie put in the spaghetti and slumped down across from David. For a long while there was only the drip of the water outside and the soft bubbling of the spaghetti water. They didn t say much to each other at supper.
In the morning there was no heat. Their breath made white clouds in the air above them as they lay in their sleeping bags.
They must have turned off the gas, Annie said.
Mom?! David cried out, hoping she had come back in the night.
But there was no answer. Annie scurried into the kitchen, turned on the electric oven, opened its door, and snuggled back into her bag until she could feel the heat seeping into the room.
At least it s warm in school, David said as he warmed himself by the open oven. Maybe we should tell someone there what s happening. Maybe they ll find us some furniture and get the heat turned back on.
Don t you dare! his sister turned on him angrily. Do you want to be in another foster home like last time?
Why couldn t they just help us stay here until Mom comes back?
Because it doesn t work that way.
Annie made oatmeal and used the last of the bread to make peanut butter sandwiches for their lunches.
Dad wouldn t let this happen to us, David said.
Dad s in Alaska, and he doesn t even care about us anymore. He hasn t written in two years.
He writes.
Annie stopped in mid-bite. What?
He still writes. I m sure of it. Once, before we started moving so much, I saw an envelope with Dad s writing on it in the trash; it was addressed to us. I asked Mom about it, but she snatched it away and said I was mistaken. But I saw the postmark. It was from Alaska. Sitka, I think. It had to be Dad.
Why didn t you tell me?
I don t know. Mom always said such bad things about Dad, and you always agreed with her.
I only agreed with her because she got so ugly when I didn t. Of course I love Dad. But why hasn t he come to see us or tried to get us?
Maybe he doesn t know where we are, David said. We ve been moving so much, we hardly get mail anymore. Maybe he came down to get us and couldn t even find us.
In the afternoon, when David and Annie came back from school, the landlord s car was there and the front door was open.
Where d she go? the man said brusquely when they came up the steps.
She didn t say, Annie stammered.
She didn t tell you anything? He was a rough-looking man, and he gave the kids a hard look. She left you, didn t she? Just skipped out on her kids just like she skipped out on the rent. He picked up the phone, put it to his ear, then slammed it back down. You kids stay here until I get back. I ll find a phone that works and get someone to take care of you. Some people shouldn t be allowed to have kids. The door closed and he was gone into the cold November dusk.
Get your stuff, Annie said. We ve got to get out of here.
What do you mean? David complained, turning on the oven, opening the door, and standing in front of it. It s cold, and I m hungry. Where would we go?
Annie dragged a duffel bag out of the closet and started stuffing clothes into it from the boxes on the floor. Get some plastic bags from under the sink for our sleeping bags. You know who he s going to call, don t you? The cops. And then we ll be split up and put into one of those foster homes again, and Mom ll be in real trouble again. Is that what you want?
I just want to get something to eat, David said.
I got some Oreos at the store, she said over her shoulder as she fumbled under the sink for plastic bags. We can eat them on the road. Get the money from the jar. We got to get out of here, quick!
Fifteen minutes later the children were huddled in the shadows next to a dumpster at a truck loading dock, catching their breath and looking down the long street toward their house. As they watched, two cars turned the corner and stopped in front of the house. One was a police cruiser.