Jewel of the East Read Online Free Page A

the docks and looking at all the sailboats, too. The only difference was that Jim knew a lot about sailing and could tell Felix stories about who owned which boats and which races they’d been in. His own father had done the Newport to Bermuda race six times, and Jim told Felix stories about storms and squalls his father had sailed in. Jim liked to read, too, and on cold afternoons they went to the Coffee Grinder on Bannister’s Wharf and drank hot chocolate, looked out at the boats,and discussed the books they were reading. Jim Duncan liked postapocalyptic stories and Felix liked old novels, but it was fun to trade back and forth and to talk about them.
    Of course all of this made Maisie extremely jealous. Once Felix invited her along, but all she did was scowl and complain that the scones tasted stale. Later, at home, she’d accused him of liking Jim Duncan more than he liked her.
    “That’s silly,” Felix said. “You’re my
sister.
”
    But Maisie stayed upset with him all night and the next day, too.
    To keep Maisie happy that week after Thanksgiving, Felix told Jim he had to go straight home after school. He spent the afternoons with Maisie playing Rummikub and listening to her latest schemes for breaking into The Treasure Chest or finding Great-Uncle Thorne.
    By the end of the week, he was forgiven.

    The student council elections were on December 8, and Felix went to school early to put up posters. He had worked on them most of the night before, writing “F ORWARD W ITH F ELIX ” in fat bubble letters on light-blue poster boards. The hallways were still dim when he arrived at Anne Hutchinson Elementary School. The earlymorning light cast a golden tone on the empty school that made Felix feel warm and happy. Mr. Hamilton, the custodian, must have just polished the floors because of the sharp smell of lemons and the high shine on the old wood. Humming softly to himself, Felix took the roll of tape from his pocket and began to hang the posters on the walls between classrooms.
    From somewhere down the hall, he heard a soft whimpering. He paused and listened. Yes, it was definitely the sound of someone crying.
    “Hello?” he called into the emptiness.
    The crying stopped.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    No answer.
    Felix walked in the direction the sound had come from. At the end of the hall, he saw that the light was on in the supply closet and the door stood ajar. Carefully, he pulled it open. There, among the reams of printer paper, lined paper, math paper, construction paper, and manila paper sat Lily Goldberg.
    At the sound of the door creaking open, Lily looked up, her face wet with tears and her eyes puffy from crying.
    But her voice was strong and angry as she said, “Get out of here! Now!”
    Felix yanked the door shut, but he didn’t walk away. Instead, he pressed his cheek to it and said, “What’s wrong, Lily?”
    “None of your business,” she said, just as angrily. “Go away!”
    He hesitated. “I can’t leave you in a closet crying,” he said.
    “I’m not crying,” she said, then began a new round of sobs.
    Felix opened the door again. Lily had her face in her hands, her short, dark hair sticking up on her head and her short fingernails covered in chipped, baby-blue polish. She was wearing her dress with the teacup pattern and a pair of scuffed, black Doc Martens. Felix thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Except for the crying.
    “Lily?” he said.
    “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s like seven o’clock,” she said without looking up.
    “Putting up my campaign posters,” Felix said. “For student council,” he added.
    Slowly, she lifted her head. The smell of mothballs and fruity shampoo filled the air.
    “What are you doing here?” Felix asked her.
    “I don’t want my parents to see me cry, so when I feel sad I come to school early and hide in here so I can cry in peace.”
    She glared at him.
    “If you tell anyone about this,” Lily said, “I’ll