The two boys, one of them with a bloody nose, point at Ronan and tell the officer that Ronan started it.

“Did you?” the officer asks him.

“Yes, I did! But they were going to pull one of his legs off just for fun. Who does that?”

“Ha!” says the taller one with a bloody nose. “He says the crab is a his. What a freak!”

The smaller boy yells, “And who hits someone for just picking up a horseshoe crab?”

“You weren’t just picking him up. You were going to hurt him!” Ronan yells back.

The kid points to our clamming rakes. “You’re here clamming. What’s the difference?”

“Actually, there is a difference,” the officer says. “You’re not allowed to harvest horseshoe crabs here. It’s against the law.”

Ronan and the boys look at each other like they’d keep fighting if they could.

The officer gives the bloody-nosed kid some paper towels, telling him he’ll be okay now that the bleeding has stopped. Then he checks our clamming permits. Finally, the officer takes out his phone, saying he’ll have to call the police. That Ronan can’t just hit someone in the face because he doesn’t like what they’re doing.

The Yarmouth police take two minutes to show up. They ask Ronan a bunch of questions and call his dad. Then they put Ronan in the back of the police car.

It makes me feel terrible to see Ronan taken away like that. Especially when the other two boys are watching and laughing.

Ronan shouldn’t have done what he did. But he loves sea animals so much that I can understand how seeing the boys’ cruelty, after getting that letter from his mom, was like lighting the fuse on a firecracker.

Chapter 34

CHATHAM PEER

As soon as my eyes open the next morning, I think of Ronan. Worried about what’s happened. I wish I could call him, but their only phone is his dad’s cell.

Grammy is yelling up the stairs to me, saying it’s Lobster Roll Sunday, which is a holiday that Henry made up once where we all go to Chatham Pier for lobster rolls. It’s not a fancy place, but it’s the best spot on all of the Cape—and it’s on the pier where the Reel is moored.

Just as Henry, Esme, Ruby, Olive, Grammy, and I are ready to pile into Esme’s van for the drive, Ruby tells Henry she needs to go to the bathroom, so he takes her back inside. While they’re inside, I hear Grammy tell Esme that maybe Ruby needs glasses. That makes sense—I think about the ways she trips on things and reaches for spots on the floor thinking they’re objects.

I volunteer to sit in the wayback, hoping that I won’t have to do much talking. When Ruby tumbles into the seat next to me, I’m not exactly thrilled. But after she’s buckled in, she puts her hands on both sides of my face and says, “You are sad.”