“How sure are you that this thing will float?” Andrew looks at the ‘boat’ with concern.
“Oh, it’ll float,” Ross responds confidently. Joe, Rob, and Zubin seem to share Andrew’s concern about the seaworthy-ness of the run down row boat before them.
Ross hops on. There is some questionable back and forth action that leave the other four in a quandary as to whether or not to join their friend. Well, of course none of them wanted to be labeled a scaredy cat. So, one by one, they join their friend. Ross pushed off of the makeshift dock. Prayer suddenly became a huge part of all of the boys’ lives. The boat rocked…a lot. But soon their fears were left behind and the friends started singing a pirate shanty. Okay, they mad up a pirate shanty as none of them actually knew one. They did use the word shanty though and ahoy and other words that any pirate should know.
“How much longer are we going to be on the water?” Andrew asks. He looks a little green around the gills. He also just found out that he gets a tad motion sick and the rocking of the row boat is making him want to blow chunks all over the place.
“I can see the other side,” Joe assures his friend.
“I think you mean land ho,” Rob corrects him while strumming on Joe’s guitar.
“Is that my guitar?” Joe’s frustration colors his tone.
“Guys, I think I’m going to be sick,” Andrew leans over the side of the rowboat.
“Not on my guitar!” Joe cries out as he snatches the guitar from Rob and shields it.
“We’re here!” announces Ross as the boat jerks to a stop.
“Thank goodness,” Andrew sighs as he hurries to be the first one off.
The boys decide to explore a bit to give Andrew a chance of feeling better before they shove off again and head home. They assume that they are on what could only be an island that no one has used for years. Everything looks overgrown.
“Wow! Look what I found!” Ross calls out.
“Look at all those old drums,” Rob comments when he gets there.
“Aren’t the amazing?!” Ross’s excitement seeps into his every word.
“They are all dead,” Joe looks at Ross like he has grown an extra head.
“Nuh-uh. If you pick parts from the different sets, then you could get a whole one,” Ross insists.
“A whole, rusty set,” Zubin quirks an eyebrow at Ross.
Undaunted by his friends’ skepticism, Ross rushes into the area. In his imagination, this is a wonderful place where drum sets go to die and he is saving pieces of them. Shaking their heads, the other four boys join Ross in sifting through the drum sets, looking for usable pieces. About a half an hour passes while they do this. Finally, they assemble one, sort-of okay set for Ross.
“Um, how are we going to get all this back to Ross’s house?” Andrew suddenly asks.