Page 2 of The Sandbar saga

Part One

Katie

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Chapter 1

DISTANT THUNDER RUMBLEDover the house. Katie jerked her hand away from the window without taking her gaze off the sandbar under the Megler Bridge. Little by little, the sand disappeared with the incoming tide.

Putting her hand on the glass again, she waited for the next vibration. The boom. The anger.

Living on the hill in Astoria, Oregon, storms were nothing new to her. The Chinook winds often blew in from the Pacific Ocean—rattling the windows and bringing big, wet raindrops that soaked her clothes as she waited for the school bus in the mornings and when she walked up the hill to the house in the afternoons.

She focused on the disappearing sandbar again in anticipation. Just once, she'd like to see someone get caught out there on the sand when the tide came in.

Her teacher, Mrs. Bernhardt, had warned the class about the dangers of the sandbar near the bridge. The tide could sweep her away and pull her out to sea.

While her teacher had lectured the class on the safety rules, Katie had raised her hand in class. It was the first time she'd volunteered to ask a question all year. Usually, she sat quietly because Alden and his group near the back of the room made fun of everyone if they were smart. She hated the attention and preferred if nobody noticed her.

The day she'd asked the question, she stopped liking Mrs. Bernhardt.

She looked up at the dark sky. Her teacher had lied to her when she'd asked if someone could die if they went out on the sandbar. Mrs. Bernhardt told her people could get hurt if they got caught under the bridge when the tide came in.

That wasn't the right answer. People had died. She knew the difference between hurt and dead.

Her dad was dead. He'd died on the sandbar when she was eight years old.

She stared at the cars traveling the bridge from Oregon to Washington, unaware of the danger coming their way.

"Katie, get away from the window. The storm is getting closer," said Ms. Gray.

She ignored her nanny. There was nothing Ms. Gray could do to her, except tell her mother she hadn't obeyed.

The older woman would soon quit, anyway. All the nannies quit. None of them would deal with her mother for long before they up and left.

Besides, she was too old for a nanny. At twelve years old, it was legally possible for her to stay home by herself. That was her wish.

She stared at the sandbar, getting swallowed by the churning water.

No one remembered her dad. The nannies never mentioned him. Her mom wouldn't speak about him since finding out Miss Cynthia, Katie's piano teacher, died with him that night when they got out of the car and walked out onto the sand under the bridge.

She wasn't sure if her mom was more disappointed in losing her husband or the fact that Katie couldn't take piano lessons anymore, and that meant she came home after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and interrupted her mother's time with her man friends.

A hand circled her arm, yanking her backward. "You must listen to me."

She wandered over to her bed, rubbing her arm. If she could stay home by herself, she could look out the window all day if she wanted.

Climbing up on the mattress, she sat down and grabbed her stuffed dog. She was too old for stuffed animals.

The only reason she kept it on her bed was that every time her mom seen Mikey—named after her dead father—she left the room.

Not that her mom came in the bedroom often.

Most of the time, her mom stayed with her man friends, traveling to different parts of the world, and going to restaurants.

"You need to wash your face and put on the dress I set out for you." Ms. Gray put a pair of shoes in front of her on the floor. "Your mother expects you to look nice. There will be company at dinner tonight, and she wants you to be on your best behavior."

She tossed the stuffed dog to the floor and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door to Ms. Gray exhaling loudly when she was forced to pick up the animal.