Chapter 7

"What do you suppose happened?" I asked.

"Storm," said Josie, "Or earthquake."

At my look, she said, "There's the volcano."

I turned to look at it.

"It's active," she said.

"And?"

"It wasn't," she said.

"How do you know?"

"Nobody reported it."

"How do you know?"

"Activity in the islands gets reported."

"Oh," I said, then, "To who?"

"People who're interested in that sort of thing."

"Who?"

"Sailors, importers, merchants, the Guard ... schools," she said. "The last time an island went active there was a wave ... several ... on the mainland."

"When?"

"Couple of hundred years ... I think," Josie said. "Lookit ... I'm just a kid ... I managed eight years of schooling. I can read, write, figure and count back change. History? Not so much. Couple hundred years? Who cares? Pretty girls don't need that."

"You weren't always pretty," I said.

"There you go again." Her hands were balled up in fists and resting on her hip bones. "I've always been pretty! I used to be skin colored. I've never been pink in my life! Until now!"

I held up my hands in surrender ... I knew better than to argue with a irate woman ... they have ALL the pussy and do most of the cooking.

She glared at me ... she tried rubbing off the pink on the backs of her hands. That didn't work. A second glare ... this one tinged around the edges with exasperation.

"Go catch a fish!" She handed me a great big casting rod.

I headed for the lagoon.

"Off the pier!"

I jaywalked.

"All the way to the lighthouse!"

"You won't be able to see me," it was a whine ... I admit it.

"Good!"