Finding the North Star

Ch 12 MONTREAL AND A PUZZLE SOLVED

"Wake up . . . swimming lessons!" Arlen ripped the blankets off the sleeping boys and then – much to her surprise – took Becky's as well. "If you want to be safe on the water girl, you too must learn to swim."

Arlen had hardly said two words to her the whole trip, she thought angrily – why did he have to start noticing her now? And what was she supposed to swim in? She had no bathing costume.

"I think . . . " said Mary, whispering to Becky, "he is just fed up with smelly boys and he's found a way to get them clean. It might be good for you too. Just keep your underwear on."

Becky was trying through chattering teeth, to whisper so Arlen wouldn't hear. She was a little bit afraid of him and had done her best up till now to keep out of his way.

"I took a bath yesterday and I don't need to learn how to swim now we are nearly done with this river."

But Arlen did hear. He turned and planted his knuckles firmly at his hips. "Everyone needs to know how to swim." He winked at Mary which Becky did not see – her head was bent as she nervously examined her naked toes beginning to turn blue with cold. "Can you swim girl . . . Eh? You never know when you might be dumped overboard. It might even be this afternoon, or next week when you are on the Atlantic. It's never when you expect it." He put a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to his as he said, "And this might be one of your most valuable lessons yet."

"But I . . . "

"No buts . . . you are under my command while on this vessel and you will do as I say!"

She had no choice. Painfully aware of the recent changes to her body she undressed as slowly as she could get away with.

Ed and Lively wearing only their long johns were already picking their way over to the river. The St. Lawrence had made a narrow diversion here and a small island covered with shrubs separated the main river from the tributary which ran deep and slow undercutting the bank in a graceful arc.

Becky re-neatened her pile of clothes for the third time, but no sooner had she straightened up than she was grabbed on either side by John and Maurice and bodily run down the shore. She let out a yowl as the three of them entered the water and she was dunked with a mighty splash.

The water was frigid and it took the screams right away leaving her gasping for breath.

She smacked the water angrily, "I hate you John."

He circled her, pouting. "You don't really mean that."

She didn't, and couldn't help smiling.

Arlen grabbed her by the hand. "Might as well have that swimming lesson now eh Becky?" He led her out deeper. There was no going back now. She was in and that was that.

Pretty soon the water was up to her waist and she could feel the current tugging at her legs.

"Just breathe," said Arlen encouragingly, "as normally as you are able."

"I don't think I can," Becky gasped, her breath ragged. "It's so cold."

"Alright, now dance around until you start to warm up a bit. Like this . . . "

He jumped up and down in a sort of jig, bringing his knees up high but keeping his arms below the surface where he moved them back and forth; slowly all the while guiding her out deeper and deeper.

Becky giggled, then stopped short. "Arlen . . . I can't feel the bottom!"

"Don't worry . . . neither can I." He saw her look. "Just joking . . . I won't let go. Now keep dancing."