Read Online Hole in My Life by Jack Gantos - Free Book Online

didn’t think of the danger involved with breaking the law. I didn’t even consider that I had no idea how to sail a large boat, or that Hamilton might kill me and dump my body off the coast of New Jersey—that anything bad could possibly happen. I just saw my exit from the island and entrance to my future, and it was glorious and good and calling me and there was no way I was going to get a better offer in a lifetime of sitting on St. Croix. And even if I had a good job it would take me years to save that kind of money. But now I could do it in six weeks and all for little work and lots of adventurous fun. I was ready. My heart was pounding.
    â€œCount me in,” I said, smiling. “I’ll go home and start packing.”
    â€œNot a word to anyone about the cargo,” Hamilton finally
said with his eyes bearing down on me. “No bragging to your friends. No loose talk. No nothing.”
    â€œNot a word,” I replied earnestly. “I can keep a secret. You can trust me.”
    â€œI don’t have a choice,” he said, with some reluctance.
    After that, there wasn’t much to say. I was so anxious to get going I swam to shore and drove my car up the steep unpaved road to our house. All the way up I kept saying to myself, “Now, settle down and think. Think about what you are doing. Be careful. Think about what you are risking.” But I wasn’t answering myself. I was so excited I knew I wasn’t weighing the danger. I was ecstatic. I felt invulnerable. When I reached the top of the hill I looked down at the harbor. There was the sailboat floating on the blue water like a toy. My ship had come in, and I was ready to play.
    The next day I told my mom and dad I’d been offered a sailing job, and had taken it and that I might be moving to New York.
    â€œBut you just got here,” my mom said, disappointed.
    â€œI can’t blame you,” Dad said. “If I could afford it, I’d get off this rock, too. Maybe the last crate I make will be my own—and hopefully it won’t be a coffin.” I hoped so, too.
    I felt bad for him, but I had to go. Two days later he came down to the boat with me to look it over, and make sure it was seaworthy. He had been in the navy. I set it up in advance for
Hamilton not to be there and to just leave a note saying he was grocery shopping. I hadn’t told Dad that Rik was involved. He already had him pegged, and I just knew if he laid eyes on Hamilton he’d peg him, too, and never let me go.
    We spent about an hour looking over every square inch of the boat. I could tell Dad was on to something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Finally he said, “Well, I guess this tub is shipshape.” Then he looked me in the eye. “Is this on the up-and-up?” he asked.
    â€œYou bet,” I replied.
    â€œThen smooth sailing, sailor,” he said, and slapped me on the back. “My only regret is that I’m not going with you.”
    I’m so glad he didn’t.

2 / bon voyage
    Before Hamilton and I set out on the final journey we took several practice voyages, and each one was disastrous in regard to seamanship and companionship. If I hadn’t been so spellbound by the thought of ten thousand dollars in cash, I would have fled with the rats the moment the rust-colored sails were hoisted, because it was obvious that we didn’t so much arrive at our destinations as aim and crash into them like kamikaze yachtsmen.
    On our first practice run we couldn’t even get out of the harbor without shaming ourselves in front of the entire boating community. We were in high spirits when we set off so we had the Beaver in full sail—the main and mizzen and jib smartly trimmed for all to see as we lumbered toward the channel through the reef which outlined the harbor. I was down in the main cabin opening a couple of cold beers for a mid-morning toast when a crash and a sudden pitch