"The Yacht," by Ela Soylemez: November 2024 Runner Up

It was another usual November morning in Hawaii. I sulked, glaring at my nuisance of an alarm clock. After finally dragging myself out of bed, I started getting ready for school. While I was eating breakfast, the doorbell rang. My mom called, “Kelly! Can you get it?”

I frowned. Who on earth is at our door at 6:50 in the morning? Still chewing, I rushed to the door and swung it open. Instantly, I squinted. Standing in front of me was a middle-aged woman with dark, wavy hair wearing a bikini and a huge grin.

“Hola, chiquita!” she chirped.

For a moment, I stared blankly at her trying to make sense of the scene. She waved her hands dramatically, pointing to something behind her, as if she expected me to understand. Her Spanish words meant nothing to me, but her gestures were clear enough—she wanted me to follow.

I stepped outside. My confusion only deepened. The whole street was crowded, my neighbors stood on their doorsteps, each with their own swimsuit-dressed visitor, all speaking excitedly in Spanish.

“What in the world…” I muttered, stepping farther out. The woman beside me clapped her hands and pointed again, this time toward the beach. My jaw dropped.

A humongous mega yacht—no, more like a floating mansion—was stranded on the shore. It's great white body glistened under the sun, and colorful flags whipped in the breeze. People in bathing suits were coming out the vessel chatting animatedly with the baffled locals.

A man nearby tried to explain. “They’re tourists, I think. Must’ve gotten lost at sea or something.”

The woman next to me gestured again. She handed me a map, pointing to a red “X” marked on it. Was this a treasure map? A rescue plan? My mind raced.

Behind me, Mom called, “Kelly, you’re going to miss the bus!”

Miss the bus? How could I think about school with this unfolding mystery?

“Wait!” I called out, chasing after the bikini-dressed woman. This was a November morning I’d never forget.