Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

I step onto the boat, and she follows me. “I’m a really good swimmer,” she says. “You don’t have to worry about me around the water.”

“Good to know, but you should remember that at this time of the year, that water is really cold, and if you fall in, you could get hypothermia, which would make it incredibly hard to get out, no matter how good a swimmer you are.”

She nods. “Okay. I’ll be careful.”

I kneel in front of the motor and pull a pair of disposable gloves from my supplies. “Put these on so you don’t go home with greasy hands.”

“What are you doing?” Violet asks.

“I’m taking the engine apart so I can clean it and put in new parts.”

“Ew,” Violet says, making a face at the grayish-brown muck. “What’s that?”

“An engine uses oil and gasoline,” I tell her. “And it’s built to keep the water out, so when it breaks and water gets in, the oil and water mix, creating this crap.”

“I did an experiment like that in Science, only the oil and water didn’t mix.”

“That’s because they weren’t forced to mix. In here, the power of the engine pushes the molecules together, like it or not. That’s what happened here, which is no bueno.”

“That means not good.”

“Right.” I lift the manifold. “I’m going to give you the parts as I take them off. I just want you to go lay them on the workbench in the shop. If you run out of space on the bench, put them on the floor, but lay them faceup so all this muck doesn’t make a mess.”

I lose track of time like I usually do when I’m working. Violet is easy to be around, eager to help, and inquisitive. She’s a pretty little thing, with a long light brown braid and blue eyes.

My rolling stomach tells me it’s past lunchtime. When Violet gets back from the shop, I ask, “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got peanut butter and jelly. Does that work for you? Or do you want me to walk you home?”

“I love peanut butter and jelly.”

I pull off my gloves and point to my boat. “See the Cecelia Anne? With the blue canvas? That’s mine. I’ve got sandwiches and drinks in the fridge. Grab them and bring them back.”

Violet jogs to the boat and disappears inside. I do some general cleanup, and when Violet returns, we sit cross-legged on the dock to eat lunch.

“Your boat is so cool,” she tells me right before she takes a bite of sandwich. “Do you like living there?”

“I do, but I’ve lived on a boat for a long time, so I’m used to it. Most people think it’s too small.”

“I didn’t know you could live on a boat.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Fifth. I’m a year behind. My mom and dad kept me back a year in first grade.”

“My dad did too. One of the best things he ever did.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, because when you’re a year older than everyone else, you’re smarter and more confident than everyone else too, so you always shine. It’s like having an advantage all through school.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“What do you do for fun?” I ask her.

“I’m in gymnastics.”