We both look toward the ocean. He wasn’t answering his phone yesterday. And I haven’t seen him today.

I start to run. Not toward the boat but toward Henry’s house. And Ronan is right on my heels.

• • •

I jump up onto Henry’s porch and bang on the door several times, wait, and bang some more. Finally, I yell, “Henry! Are you home? HEN-ry?”

No answer. I lean my forehead against the door.

“We should call the police,” Ronan says. “Or the coast guard.”

“They would have done that on the beach already. But I have a place we can check.”

“Where?” Ronan asks, but I am already running.

“Saucepan Lynn’s,” I say. “It’s his favorite place to eat breakfast.”

With Ronan on my heels, I run through several backyards and down Old Wharf Road to a tiny café behind the post office where the locals eat.

The creaky door slams as we walk in, and the regulars at the counter all turn to look at us.

“Henry!” I yell. “You’re alive!”

He laughs. “Was I dead? The bacon hasn’t gotten me yet.”

“I couldn’t find you and I know Esme and Ruby aren’t home.”

“Well, Ruby and her mom are away for a couple of days. And I didn’t realize I’d been hiding anywhere.” He smiles as he takes another bite of scrambled eggs.

I want to hug him, but I guess I need to stop hugging people and telling them I’m glad they’re not dead.

“Sit down with me and have some breakfast.”

“Henry!” I say. “We can’t now. The Reel of Fortune has been beached!”

“What?”

“It’s down on Seagull Beach.”

He is wide-eyed and stops chewing to ask, “You sure?”

“Henry,” I say, “it was Papa Joseph’s boat. I know what it looks like!”

Henry stands and fumbles with his wallet and throws some money on the counter. “Let’s go,” he says, stepping over a dog and heading for the door.

• • •

Henry’s truck slides on the sand as he pulls into the parking space and slams on the brakes. He’s out and running before we are. When he sees the boat, he stands with both hands on top of his head.

“Captain Ahab!” he yells. “Here, Captain Ahab! C’mere, boy.”

Ronan leans closer. “You didn’t tell me he was nuts,” he says.

I knock Ronan with my shoulder and point at Henry, who’s scooping up a cat with three white legs and one black one.

Captain Ahab must be the only cat in the world who loves the water. He’s one of the reasons I’ve spent hours trying to talk Grammy into getting me a kitten. On long fishing days, Captain Ahab is someone to talk to. Henry took him home once, but he yowled the entire night. Henry figures that cat doesn’t know it should be terrified of the ocean and maybe just loves the smell of striped bass.

“Aye, matey.” Henry sounds like a pirate as he talks to the Captain. “Have you run our boat aground in search of yer favorite fish?” Then he puts the cat down on the sand, and while the cat does figure eights around his ankles, Henry lets out a sound like a giant with a toothache. He rakes his own hair with his fingers and looks to the sky. “Well, boats aren’t meant for beaches, so let’s work on getting her back in the water.”