The Emerald Key - By Christopher Dinsdale Page 0,70
the guards had reluctantly agreed to have the dead passed over the gate for proper burial.
Shane fought back the tears as he looked at his tired children huddled at his feet. He took Chloë’s hand. She leaned against him, and he listened to the rhythm of her beating heart. What was to become of them? Left exposed on the dock, it was only a matter of time before they too would get sick and die.
“Please Lord, help us find a way out of this hellish purgatory,” he whispered, looking up into the endless blue sky.
In what seemed like an answer to his prayers, a loud bell rang in the waters behind him. Puzzled, he turned around to see a sleek white steamship rounding the western tip of the Toronto Islands. With its double stacks belching out black smoke and the bow aimed directly at their quay, the ship closed the distance between them in short order. Shane raised himself to his feet. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Through the haze of the afternoon sun, it appeared that the entire ship was being run by children! A teenager was at the helm while two young girls manned the bow lines. A boy no older than six stood on the stairs leading up to the wheelhouse, waving to everyone on the pier. Not knowing what else to do, Shane waved back. He could make out the name of the ship, the Flying Irishman, painted in childish lettering on the bow. The young “captain” stuck his head out of the wheelhouse window as the ship began to slow.
“Is this the quay where I heard Irish families are being held against their will?”
Shane raised his arms. “Yes, it is! We’re all Irish and they won’t let us leave the dock!”
“I don’t suppose that you would fancy a ride away from your dilemma?”
Shane looked at the crowd gathering behind him. All that still had strength to stand were staring at the bow of the huge ship in disbelief.
“And who are you?” asked Shane.
“A friend. My name is Jamie Galway.”
“That’s a wonderful offer, Mr. Galway, but we have a slight problem — this fence that has us trapped in here like caged animals.”
“Ah, the fence!” shouted Jamie. “It shouldn’t be a problem for very long. And your name, sir?”
“I’m Shane Beckett.”
“Beth, Laura, pass Mr. Beckett those bow lines. Mr. Beckett, if you would be so kind, could you tie those bow lines to the fence?”
Shane’s face lit up with understanding. “It would be my pleasure, captain!”
The boat approached the dock nose first.
Shane started to wave his arms. “You better slow down! You’re going to hit—”
The portside bow crunched into the end of the pier. Metal and wood screeched and groaned as the ship ground itself along the wooden quay. Everyone on board the ship stumbled forward from the impact. Jamie left the wheelhouse to look over the railing at the bow of his ship.
“Oh dear, did I scrape the paint? And I promised father I would bring it home without a scratch.”
Shane shook his head in disbelief as he took the thick ropes from the girls. With the help of three other men, they quickly knotted the thick ropes to the fence. “Is your whole crew children, Mr. Galway?”
“Indeed they are! I like to call them the Lost Boys, although some are indeed girls. Please back away from the fence. I’ve never tried this before. Actually, I’ve never tried sailing a ship before! Here we go!”
Jamie signalled the engine room to give the ship full reverse. Dark steam and smoke poured from the smokestacks as the paddlewheels dug into the waters of Toronto harbour. The fence pulled away from the quay as easily as paper torn from a wrapped Christmas present. The Irish prisoners gave a whoop of joy! The guards, taking in the improbable scene from the far end of the fenced quay, were furious. Some shouted to the prisoners to back away from the boat. Others ran off to get reinforcements.
A larger boy appeared at the bow of the ship wielding a fire axe. A large chunk of fence was now dragging through the water in front of the ship. He swung the axe sharply down on the taut bow lines. The axe sliced through them cleanly, which allowed the submerged metal fence to sink to the bottom of the harbour. The paddlewheels changed direction and began to push the ship forwards, back towards the quay.