Read Online Green Boy by Susan Cooper - Free Book Online

fiery speech about the islands being for the islanders, and not just a playground for rich white foreigners to gamble and play golf.
    â€œWe hear this big talk about investment!” Mrs. Ernestine cried. “Who investing in what? Big foreign companies investing in us , in our pretty beaches and our blue sea, that’s what, and taking they profits home to they own countries to enjoy! Long Pond Cay belong to us—Sapphire Island would belong to them! Let’s sign our petition, people, and show the Government how we truly feel!”
    We all cheered, and Mrs. Ernestine sat down, looking pleased, and fanned herself with her hat.
    The blond American got up next, which was brave of him considering he was a foreigner. He spoke rather softly, so you had to strain to hear him, but he was worth hearing. He said he thought he was a typical boat person, or “yachtie,” and that there were hundreds like him in our waters every year.
    â€œWe’re an independent lot, but we all love these islands,” he said. “We come here for several months of the year to escape from noise and bustle. We’re trying hard now not to pollute the water of your harbor. We used to be bad about that, but we’ve listened to people like Mr. Peel—”
    â€”that was Grand, and I nudged Grammie proudly—“—and we’ve learned.” He looked round him a littlenervously, but his voice rose. He said, “I think your government has to learn too, to limit large-scale development, and allow only small hotels, on islands big enough to support them. Long Pond Cay is beautiful and peaceful, and part of the reason why we all come here. Sapphire Island Resort doesn’t belong there.”
    People clapped when he sat down, but almost at once another man bounced to his feet and started yelling, a loud angry yell. He was Bahamian, but I didn’t recognize him, I thought he must be from one of the outer settlements. He was a big man with a shiny bald head and two chins, and a yellow shirt. He started right in on the boat guy.
    â€œYou don’t belong here neither!” he bellowed. “What you know about us? You sit out there on your million-dollar boat, you go catching our fish, you don’t do nothing for this island—we need jobs, man! Big hotels, not small little hotels! We need investment in our economy! We need money for better roads and better schools!”
    Some people began to get caught up in this, and to shout “Yeah!” at intervals.
    â€œWe need jobs and Sapphire Island goin’ give us them!” the fat man shouted. “Let me tell you, they goin’ rebuild the main road!”
    â€œYeah!” shouted the people around him.
    â€œLet me tell you, they goin’ help expand the airport!”
    â€œYeah!”
    â€œLet me tell you, they goin’ hire drivers and constructionworkers and hotel staff and all kinds of jobs! How many people here goin’ say no to one of those jobs, eh? You show me your hand if you goin’ say no to a job—”
    And the meeting fell apart, as he bellowed on, and people jumped to their feet to bellow back at him, and Grand tried in vain to shout for order. At the end, the best we could do was to stand at the door of the community center with copies of the petition, and try to get people to sign as they left. Maybe half of them signed.
    â€œWe’ll collect signatures on Sunday after church,” I said to Grand on the way home, trying to cheer him up. “We’ll get a whole lot more!”
    We were all squished in the cab of his truck, Grammie sitting silently beside me with Lou asleep on her lap. Grand took a long heavy breath, and let it out again.
    â€œIt goin’ get harder than we imagine, Trey,” he said. “That man was from off-island, I never saw him before. They brought him in to stir things up, and tell lies. It a lie about rebuilding the road, and extending the