Islands and Enemies Read online

  To Dani and Ryan. My beloved explorers.

  -MKH

  Islands and Enemies

  © 2022 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved

  A Focus on the Family book published by Tyndale House Publishers, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.

  The Imagination Station, Adventures in Odyssey, and Focus on the Family and their accompanying logos and designs, are federally registered trademarks of Focus on the Family, 8605 Explorer Drive, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.

  Tyndale and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Ministries.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of Focus on the Family.

  Scripture quotations marked NIrV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Reader’s Version®, NIrV® Copyright © 1995, 1996, 1998, 2014 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. (www.zondervan.com) The “NIrV” and “New International Reader’s Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®

  With the exception of known historical figures, all characters are the product of the author’s imagination.

  Cover illustration by Sergio Cariello. Cover design by Michael Heath. Additional illustrations by David Hohn.

  For Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for this title, visit http://www.loc.gov/help/contact-general.html.

  For manufacturing information regarding this product, please call

  1-855-277-9400.

  For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Tyndale House Publishers at [email protected] or call 1-855-277-9400.

  ISBN 978-1-64607-014-5

  Build: 2022-03-11 10:02:36 EPUB 3.0

  Contents

  1: The Biggest Fight Ever

  2: The Victoria

  3: The Fin

  4: The Shallop

  5: The Stocks

  6: The Witch Trial

  7: Chemistry

  8: The Conch

  9: Vasco

  10: The New Scribe

  11: A Squeak

  12: All About Fins

  13: The Miracle

  14: The War Council

  15: The Battle of Mactan

  16: Clicker

  17: Whit’s End

  Secret Word Puzzle

  Author and Illustrator

  The Biggest Fight Ever

  Patrick stared at Beth across the table at Whit’s End ice cream shoppe. His cousin returned a no-blinking, eye-bulging glare.

  Beth picked up her metal spoon. She tapped her root-beer glass with it.

  Tink, tink, tink.

  Then Beth rapped with the spoon loud and slow.

  TINK . . . TINK . . . TINK . . .

  “Traitor,” she whispered.

  Tink, tink, tink.

  Patrick still stared at her. But his hands roamed the tabletop until he found a paper napkin. He tore off a small piece. Patrick rolled it between his thumb and first finger. He put the wad in his mouth.

  Beth tapped loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.

  Other customers turned their heads and stared.

  Tink, tink, tink . . . TINK . . . TINK . . . TINK . . . tink, tink, tink.

  I am not a traitor, Patrick thought.

  Patrick saw the owner of Whit’s End. His name was Mr. John Avery Whittaker, or Whit for short. The grandfatherly gentleman was wiping down a table next to them.

  Patrick pushed the wad into his straw with his tongue. He aimed the tube at Beth. He wasn’t really going to blow the wad. It was enough fun to just think about it.

  “Good morning!” Whit said.

  Patrick felt a hearty pat on his back. The slap knocked the wind out of him . . . and into his straw.

  Phuuuh. Thwack.

  The spitball smacked Beth in the center of her forehead.

  “Gross!” Beth shouted and stood. “You did that on purpose!”

  “No, I didn’t,” Patrick said. “It’s Mr. Whittaker’s fault. He slapped me on the back.”

  Whit gave Patrick an apologetic look from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He asked, “What’s going on here?”

  Patrick felt small. He knew that shooting spitballs was rude.

  Whit next looked at Beth.

  She was scowling and pointing to the wad. It stuck to her forehead and looked like a weird third eye. “This is evidence, Mr. Whittaker,” she said. “Patrick is a traitor and a bully.”

  “Beth is a baby and a tattletale,” Patrick said.

  “Let’s not have name-calling in my shop,” Whit said. He raised an eyebrow. “Is this the reason for the SOS?”

  “What SOS?” Patrick asked.

  “This,” Beth said. She tapped her spoon three times against the glass.

  Tink, tink, tink.

  “That is Morse code for the letter S,” Beth said.

  Whit picked up another spoon and tapped the glass harder and longer.

  TINK . . . TINK . . . TINK . . .

  “That’s the letter O,” he said.

  Patrick shrugged.

  Beth said, “I bet you don’t even know what SOS stands for.”

  Patrick gave a huff.

  Whit chuckled. The lines around his kind blue eyes crinkled.

  “You two aren’t acting like the cheerful Patrick and Beth who normally hang around this place,” Whit said. He twirled the edge of his white moustache. “Usually you don’t bicker. I’ll ask again . . . what’s going on?”

  Patrick’s gut twisted. He really didn’t want to tell Whit.

  A memory of the day before flashed into his mind.

  Beth was sprawled on the ground. A soccer ball rolled away from her. Three kids were laughing and pointing at her. Another kid stood beside the three. A boy with freckles and blond hair. Him.

  Beth was thinking of that day too. Her eyes burned with tears. She grabbed a napkin and wiped the spit wad off her forehead.

  “It was after school,” Beth said, sniffling. “I was carrying my project to the car-pool waiting area.” She looked at Whit and managed a weak smile. “I got an A on it—”

  “That’s because you bought a kit,” Patrick said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  Whit sighed. He said, “Patrick, you’ll get your turn to talk. Please let Beth finish first.”

  Patrick nodded.

  “I was carrying the Victoria,” Beth said. “It’s a model of a famous ship. And I had to go around a group of kids playing soccer. Patrick was with them.”

  Beth shuddered at the memory. “There was mud and gravel on the ground,” she said.

  Whit put a hand on her shoulder. “Go on,” he said.

  “The ball rolled across my path,” she said. “I had to sidestep. I slipped . . .” She showed Whit her hands. Red cuts marred her palms.

  Beth’s eyes welled with tears again. “I dropped the Victoria to catch myself. The ship is now in a hundred pieces. Smashed. And it’s all Patrick’s fault!”

  Whit turned to Patrick. “It’s your turn,” he said.

  The Victoria

  “That’s not how it was!” Patrick said.

  Beth frowned but was quiet.

  Patrick took a deep breath. “I was playing soccer with some kids from our class,” he said. “But I didn’t kick the ball that tripped Beth. Eli did.”

  “Was it an accident?” Whit asked.

  Patrick took another deep breath. “Probably not,” he said. “Eli is good.”

  “Even good players make mistakes,” Whit said. “Why wasn’t this an accident?”

&n
bsp; Patrick looked down at the table. “Eli thinks Beth is a know-it-all. And just before he kicked the ball, Eli smirked,” Patrick said.

  “I knew it!” Beth shouted. “You all planned it together!”

  “No!” Patrick said. He stood. “It all happened in seconds!”

  “You didn’t even try to stop Eli,” Beth said. She crossed her arms.

  A long silence fell between the cousins.

  Patrick’s eyes were cast downward.

  Finally, Patrick looked up. He said, “I couldn’t have made a difference. It was hopeless. That’s why I didn’t even try.”

  Then Whit spoke to Beth. “Why do you think Eli wanted to trip you?”

  A deep flush crept up Beth’s neck and clung to her cheeks.

  “Well, uh . . . I, um . . .” she said. “Building the Victoria was a group project. And I didn’t let Eli and the others help.”

  Whit stroked his chin. “I think I understand,” he said. “You two need to meet me in the workshop. Resolving this conflict calls for an Imagination Station adventure.”

  Patrick smiled.

  So did Beth.

  At last they agreed on something.

  “Where are we going?” Patrick asked Whit.

  He said, “Did someone mention the Victoria?”

  Beth and Patrick stood in the Whit’s End workshop. They were next to the rebuilt white Imagination Station. It was kind of like a time machine.

  “We’re using this one?” Patrick asked. “Where’s the Model T version?”

  “That one is on loan to the government right now,” Whit said.

  Patrick knew it was best not to ask any more questions when Whit said things like that.

  “But I’ve been tinkering with this one,” Whit said. “I think you’ll like the changes.”

  Beth thought the machine looked like the cab of a helicopter, but without any blades on top.

  Whit opened a panel on the side of the Imagination Station. He pressed a button, and the door slid open.

  Patrick climbed over one seat and sat down in the second.

  Beth frowned. Patrick usually let her go in first. He must still be mad, she thought.

  She climbed inside. Beth loved the comfortable leather seats. She fastened her seat belt.

  Patrick also buckled up.

  Beth ran her hand over the dashboard. The red button was still in the middle. But there were two new screens. Beth noticed more dials and switches too.

  One of the screens said Translation. Its toggle was switched to on.

  “The Imagination Station has new components,” Whit said.

  “What are they?” Beth asked.

  “You’ll know when you use them,” Whit said with a wink.

  “Cool,” Patrick said. “I can’t wait to meet Christopher Columbus.”

  “Columbus?” Whit asked.

  Patrick’s eyebrows drew close in confusion. “Yeah, you know, the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Victoria.”

  Beth put a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t smirk.

  Whit chuckled kindly. “In 1492, Columbus’s third ship was the Santa Maria,” he said.

  “Then who sailed on the Victoria?” Patrick asked.

  “You’d know if you’d listened to my report,” Beth said. “The Victoria was part of a five-ship fleet.”

  “I do know something about your project,” Patrick said.

  “Let’s hear it,” she said.

  “You know everything, so you got an A,” Patrick said.

  Beth sighed.

  Whit tossed a small package onto Patrick’s lap. It was a sealed Ziploc bag. It was full of bright silver items. “You’ll need those to save a young life,” he said. “Don’t lose them.”

  Patrick thanked Whit and tucked the package inside his shirt.

  “May we leave now?” Beth asked.

  Whit nodded. “To come back, you must be friends again,” he said.

  The door slid closed.

  Beth pressed the red button.

  The Imagination Station started to shake and rumble. It seemed to move.

  Beth felt as if she were riding on a rickety roller coaster. She took a quick breath and closed her eyes. The machine jerked forward. The rumble grew louder. The machine whirled. Suddenly, everything went black.

  The Fin

  Patrick saw the sun rising on the ocean. The Imagination Station was floating on a smooth sea.

  Whoosh!

  The machine’s door slid open. Saltwater poured in.

  “Beth!” he shouted. “The Imagination Station is sinking!”

  Patrick pushed himself into the cool water. Goosebumps rose on his skin. His wet clothes were pulling him down.

  He tried to kick off his sneakers. But they had transformed into boots.

  Patrick treaded water, his arms moving in wide arcs. He saw his billowy sleeves. They were made of cotton. The wet fabric made swimming more difficult.

  He looked back at Beth. She was treading water a few feet away.

  The Imagination Station bobbed a couple of times. Then the sea swallowed it.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Beth said. “Do you see the Victoria?”

  Patrick spun round. He saw nothing but glassy ocean.

  “Maybe the Victoria sank,” he said. “Maybe it’s below us. We should have stayed inside the Imagination Station.”

  “But the door opened by itself,” Beth said. “The Imagination Station wanted us here.”

  “Why?” Patrick asked. “To make sure we could pass a swim safety exam?”

  “Maybe,” Beth said. Her voice trembled. “If the swimming pool is a shark tank!” She pointed behind Patrick.

  He spun around again.

  A large gray dorsal fin was slicing through the water. It was coming straight toward them.

  “Shark!” Patrick shouted.

  Should I thrash if sharks are near? Beth wondered. Or should I just float?

  Beth started to pray. Just as quickly, she began to flutter kick. She noticed her flip-flops were gone. Her feet were bare.

  Something was around her neck. She touched it and felt a shell necklace.

  Her clothes had been replaced by something long and loose.

  She moved through the water using swift overhead strokes. The saltwater stung the sores on her palms.

  Beth heard Patrick shout, “Swim, Beth, swim! I’ll fight off the shark!”

  Patrick tried not to grin. He knew something Beth didn’t for once. A shark’s fin is straight in the back. The fin coming toward him was curved.

  Patrick watched Beth swim with wild strokes.

  “Keep swimming, Beth!” he shouted. “I’ll wrestle it all by myself.”

  The fin was closer now. He was eager for the dolphin to swim close to him. He’d always wanted to touch one.

  The dorsal fin slipped below the blue water.

  Patrick looked around for it to reappear. Something bumped his legs.

  Suddenly, he was pushed out of the water! His arms flailed wildly. His hand landed on the edge of the fin.

  Patrick grabbed and held on for a ride.

  Beth stopped swimming and turned around. Her heart jumped to her throat.

  Patrick was wrestling the shark! He had it by the dorsal fin.

  A spurt of water gushed upward from the animal’s head. The creature lifted its head and opened its mouth. It made a sound that was half clicking and half laugh.

  Patrick was being pulled by a gray-and-white dolphin. Its tube-shaped body was skimming the top of the water. He hung on to the dorsal fin with one hand. He waved at her with his other one.

  Suddenly, a second dolphin leaped out of the water. It spun around several times and then arched. It dove into the water. Next, two dolphins leaped out at the same time. They also spun like tops before falling back in the ocean.

  Beth’s body rose out of the water without warning. She found herself straddling the back of a dolphin. She grabbed its dorsal fin with both hands. The dolphin made a cli
cking sound.

  The shell on Beth’s necklace vibrated. She sensed the dolphin saying, “Hang on!”

  The dolphin turned away from the sun. It flapped its tail, pushing them quickly along the water’s surface.

  More dolphins jumped out of the water and spun in the air. Their landings caused splashes that rained on Beth.

  Beth’s dolphin followed the one Patrick was riding.

  She looked out over the horizon. Beth saw hundreds of dolphins moving together.

  The dolphins were swimming west, away from the sun.

  Somehow, Beth knew the dolphins were taking her somewhere. They had a plan.

  The sun rose higher, and the weather warmed. In the distance, a group of green-covered islands appeared.

  The dolphins headed straight for the islands. Beth could see three dark specks on the horizon. There were three wooden ships in a harbor.

  Beth’s heart beat quickly. She saw two large white sails on the closest ship. Each rectangle-shaped sail had a red cross against a white background. It was the symbol of the 1521 Spanish flag. A third triangle-shaped sail was at the back of the ship.

  Beth was sure one of these three ships was the Victoria. And she would soon meet Ferdinand Magellan. He was the first captain to lead a trip around the world.

  The Shallop

  Patrick’s dolphin made clicking noises, which seemed a lot like talking. He named his dolphin Clicker.

  “Come on, Clicker,” he said. “Take me to those ships.”

  Soon they were a baseball throw away from the smallest ship.

  Is that the Victoria? Patrick wondered. I should have paid attention to Beth’s report.

  Patrick could see a shallop in the water. Seven men were inside the long boat. They rowed at the oars with fast, strong strokes.

  “Hey!” Patrick shouted. “Over here.” He waved his free arm at the men in the shallop. “Hail to the Victoria!”

  Clicker suddenly rolled over. Patrick plunged underwater. Saltwater flushed through his nose. He opened his eyes. He was face-to-face with a giant turtle.