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On the Rocks
On the Rocks
On the Rocks
Ebook69 pages55 minutes

On the Rocks

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An inspiring story about the ups and downs of family.

Fourteen-year-old Dylan is sent to live with his estranged grandfather, Angus. Basically strangers, the two avoid each other as best they can. One day Dylan discovers a young orca stranded high up on the rocky beach. Dylan runs to tell his grandfather. There’s nothing that can be done, says Angus. The sun is coming up, and soon the orca will die of exposure.

But Dylan knows he has to try to save the whale. He collects towels to cover the delicate skin of the orca and begins transporting buckets of water from the ocean below to keep it hydrated. It’s grueling work, and it will be hours before the tide comes back in and the water is high enough for the orca to swim free. Angus is moved by his grandson’s determination and helps as best he can. They both desperately hope that soon the orca will be able to join its family, who have been calling out to it just offshore.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 28, 2020
ISBN9781459823662
On the Rocks
Author

Eric Walters

Eric Walters is a Member of the Order of Canada and the author of over 125 books that have collectively won more than 100 awards including the Governor General’s Literary Award for The King of Jam Sandwiches. A former teacher, Eric began writing as a way to get his fifth-grade students interested in reading and writing. Eric is a tireless presenter, speaking to over 100,000 students per year in schools across the country. He lives in Guelph, Ontario.

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    Book preview

    On the Rocks - Eric Walters

    Fourteen

    Chapter One

    My stomach rose up as the boat slammed down through another wave. I hung on to the railing—and leaned slightly over the side just in case. The spray showered me. I was already soaked to the bone, so it really didn’t matter. I couldn’t get any wetter unless I fell into the ocean. That thought made me hang on even tighter as my mind started to play with the idea of being tossed overboard. The crew might not even notice that I was in the water. Then they’d have to turn around and try to find me before I disappeared under the waves.

    How are you doing?

    I turned around. It one of the crew members. He had told me his name was Jag Singh. He was wearing an orange rain suit with reflective stripes and a matching orange turban without reflective stripes.

    I’ve been better, I answered.

    It could be worse out here.

    I’m not sure how it could be worse than this.

    "Oh, it can be, believe me. There have been trips where I’ve been hanging over the edge, sharing my lunch with the fish."

    I can’t even think about food.

    Don’t worry. It’s only another twenty minutes until we dock.

    I nodded and instantly regretted the motion.

    I’m sure you don’t remember me, said Jag.

    You introduced yourself two hours ago, I replied.

    He laughed. No, I mean from a long time before that. You were only about five years old, so that would have been what, eight or nine years ago?

    I guess. I’m fourteen now.

    Yeah, that sounds about right. You and your mother came over to the island. How is she anyway?

    What?

    Your mother. How is she doing?

    I gave him a curious look. What was it to him?

    She and I went to school together.

    Oh, I didn’t know that, I said.

    She was always nice to me. He pointed up at his turban. Sometimes other people weren’t as nice.

    That sounds like her. She’s nice to everybody. She’d always said that people are people, and she treated everyone the same way.

    Jag chuckled. Good to know she hasn’t changed. So how is she doing?

    For a split second I thought about telling him the truth—that my mom was in an alcohol-abuse treatment program—but what was the point? There would be no gain for her or for him or for me in telling him.

    She’s fine. She’s doing well.

    Great to hear that. Will she be joining you on the island? he asked.

    Maybe later this summer. For now it’s just me. I’m going to be here for six weeks. Until my mom gets out of treatment.

    It would be good to see her again to say hello and catch up.

    I’ll tell her you said hi when I talk to her. What I didn’t tell Jag was I didn’t think Mom was even allowed to use her cell phone—at least, not until she was in better shape.

    Thanks. So how long has it been since you’ve seen your grandfather? Jag asked.

    A long time. It was probably the time I’d been out here when I was five. I basically had no memory of him.

    You know he’s a pretty famous painter, right? That must be where your mother got her talent.

    My mom is super talented, but she hasn’t painted much in the last few years. I know about my grandfather being a well-known painter but not much more about him—other than that he and Mom don’t get along. That’s why we never see him.

    I know some of your grandfather’s paintings have sold for a lot of money, Jag said.

    Yeah, I heard that too, I said. So how well do you know him?

    Not really well, but we deliver his supplies—you know, groceries, things for the house, even his art supplies. We probably come out this way every three or four weeks. We ferry supplies and passengers to all the islands around here. He paused. Not that your grandfather has a lot of visitors.

    But he does have some visitors?

    Not many and not in a while. Sometimes his agent. I like him, but your grandfather can be a little…a little, um…

    Hard to get along with? I asked.

    "Yeah, I guess so. He’s probably friendliest to Captain Ken. He and Captain Fukushima go a long way back. But you know, those artsy types can be a little bit different."

    My mother probably would have used other words to describe her father. Then again, what did I know? It wasn’t like I’d heard her say much about him at all. And really, even with the bad

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