ADVENTURE ON OCRACOKE ISLAND; CHAPTER 6: DELIA MEETS A NEW FRIEND (SIXTH IN 14 PARTS)

The story so far: The morning after the terrible explosion, Delia goes outside into the light snow. She is surprised to see a pony in the yard, looking at her. When he walks down Howard Street, Delia follows him, and he leads her past the lighthouse to a pretty little cove on the sound. She realizes with a shock that she is at the place called Teach's Hole, which may be haunted by Blackbeard's ghost. Suddenly she hears a rustling in the trees behind her.

The pony snorted. Delia whirled around.

The branches parted and out stepped the boy she had seen at the dock, the dark-skinned Ben who had helped her out of the mail boat. He wore old blue jeans, a sweater with holes in it, and a worn cap. His clothes did not look very warm, but he seemed not to notice the cold, even though snowflakes drifted onto his shoulders. He was whistling. He carried a bucket in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. When he saw Delia, he jumped.

"Oh! It's you! He exclaimed. He saw Delia's hat and bent down to pick it up. "Yours?"

"Yes, thanks," Delia said. "Is this your land?" She feared she might be trespassing.

Ben sat down the bucket. Delia saw some string and clothespins and what looked like chicken parts inside it.

"It's the Haskells' land," Ben said. "But they let me come here to fish. Thought I'd see if I could catch somethin'. It was so warm last week I got a bunch of crabs."

He took off his glove and held out his hand toward the pony. "You got a new friend, Flame?" The pony nuzzled his hand. "I brought him up. He was wild but now he likes people most people. I reckon he thinks you're OK." Ben scratched Flame under the chin. "Go on, you can pet him."

Delia had never touched a pony before. She reached out and stroked the velvety nose. "I followed him," Delia said. "He was standing outside our house and when he ran away, I ran after him."

"And he brought you down here, where we always go," Ben said. "Maybe he thought you needed a friend."

"I guess he's right," Delia said. She looked out at the water. "Is this ?"

"Teach's Hole? Yep. Some folks are afraid of it, but not me." Ben smiled. "Besides, the fishin's good out in the channel. Whenever I take my boat out I almost always get somethin'."

"Have you ever seen Blackbeard's ghost?" Delia asked.

Ben shook his head. "I've seen the water far, though."

Delia said, "The what?"

Ben told her that sometimes there were tiny lights dancing on the water at night, which some people called "pirate lights" or "water fire." He pronounced it "far." Some said the lights were the ghost. "But I don't think so," Ben said. "Your aunt said it's just chemicals in the water."

Delia said, "Capt. Haskell said some folks think Blackbeard comes here looking for his treasure and his head!" She shuddered.

"Yeah, he died a bad death. Cut off his ugly old head, they did." Ben shouted at the water: "Serves ya right, ya smelly ole fishbait!"

Delia was horrified. "Don't say that! He might show up!"

Ben picked up his fishing pole and pointed it at the horizon. "Come and get me, you ole coward! Just try!"

"Don't call him!" Delia said.

"No ghost is gonna get me," Ben said. "I can take care of myself. Besides, my mama says it's all a bunch of nonsense."

Delia thought Ben Ryan was the most unafraid boy she had ever met. He was 13 and he lived with his mother near the lighthouse. All his brothers and sisters had grown up and moved away, and his father was off in the Navy.

"My daddy's in the Navy, too," Delia said.

"I know, said Ben. "Your grandpa told me all about you. I help Charlie sometimes when he goes out. His bad arm mommucks him a lot, so he can't always pull in his nets by himself. He pays me a little." Ben paused. "'Course, he's too poor to be givin' money away."

Delia was surprised. "Is he poor?"

"Sure. But so's everybody else, especially now. So everybody's equal. You won't find anybody holdin' himself above others."

Everybody shared what they had, he said. Like the ducks he had gotten after hunting last month. He took one over to the Delia's Grandpa, who insisted on giving him a bucket of oysters in return. "My mama was real grateful," Ben said.

Most people did some hunting in the winter, Ben told her, since they couldn't fish much. "But Charlie won't shoot a gun, you know," Ben said.

Delia hadn't known that. "Why not?" she asked.

Ben shrugged. "Somethin' happened to him in the war, the other war," he said. "My daddy said he got spooked. Probably whatever wrecked his hearin'." So, Ben said, since everyone knew Charlie wouldn't hunt, they would sometimes share with him what they had gotten themselves. He always did something for them in return.

"Nobody has much money, but we get by," he said.

He explained that since his father was gone, he was the man of the house now. His mother was a seamstress, but they were still poor.

"So I work for Charlie some, and Sidney Haskell some," Ben said. "But my biggest job is with the beach patrol." He rode Flame along the beach, he told her, and helped the Coast Guard's lifesaving crew recover debris after an explosion at sea. They didn't usually allow kids, he said, but he was an exception. He had already been doing it before the beach patrol was formed. And besides, he said, everyone else in his family had been in the lifesaving service before him. They were known for their heroism.

"Just like my Grandpa," Delia said. "Did you hear the explosion last night?"

"Hear it?" Ben said. "It blew a window out."

"Ours, too," Delia said.

"I went down there last night but didn't see a thing," Ben said. "I tell ya, I hate to go to the beach after that happens."

"Why?" Delia asked. "What do you see?"

"Shoes, ropes, crates. Sometimes birds flappin's around, all covered in oil." He lowered his voice. "Sometimes there's a body."

He explained that some people were saved, too. "Coast Guard gets out there right quick," he said. "And sometimes a lifeboat makes it to shore."

Delia felt sick. "I hate to think about ships sinking," she said quietly.

The cold wind shifted and blew snowflakes into their eyes. "Let's go down there," Ben said. "You should see the beach when it snows." He clicked his tongue at Flame. "C'mon. We'll ride."

Delia remembered Aunt Hetty's warning. "Do you think we should?" she asked.

"Sure," Ben said. "I'm official."

Certainly, Delia though, with Ben it would be all right.

He helped her onto Flame's bare, slippery back and then climbed up himself. He wove his fingers through the pony's thick mane. "Hang on!" he shouted, and they trotted through the thick sand toward the beach.

When they got there, the wind screamed in Delia's ears and nearly blew her to the ground. Her hat flew away again. Flame lowered his head into the wind.

Delia squinted and peered up the lonely stretch of beach. Ribbons of snow streamed along the sand like ragged ghosts.

Suddenly Ben shouted, "Look!" He pointed out at the dark, churning sea.

Something was floating to shore.

NEXT WEEK: Chapter 7: Message from the Sea