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The Secret of Baiting Hollow

by Patricia Clark Smith

185 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0414; ISBN 1-4120-0051-3; US$19.00, C$22.00, EUR15.50, £11.00

The Secret of Baiting Hollow confirms for young readers the importance of family and friends, and that mermaids really do live among us.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book Through imagination, wonder, and love of family and friends, this comtemporary myth about twelve-year-old Brigit, a 4th generation descendant of Irish-American potato farmers on Long Island, unfolds. During her 2 week summer vacation with her family, Brigit's questions about her identity lead to storytelling adventures with her beach friend, Kevin, and her sister, Barbara. The stories are about mermaids, encounters with family ghosts, and the protection of angels. Baiting Hollow, a small beach nestled among tall cliffs on the north shore of Long Island, the Twoney farmhouse and farm, and the underwater world of Merpeople are the settings for this story. The Secret of Baiting Hollow confirms for young readers the importance of family and friends and that mermaids do live among us. Throughout the story, readers will wonder where personal memoir leaves off and fantasy begins. . .

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About the Author Born in Southampton, Long Island, Patricia Clark Smith is one of over 100 descendants of David and Margaret Twoney, early 20th century Irish potato farmers from Calverton, Long Island. A Connecticut educator for over twenty five years, Pat is currently principal of a fifth and sixth grade school. She has enjoyed sharing children's literature with thousands of students and her two daughters, Kelly and Amy. Pat frequently told her children and students the fanciful stories her parents and relatives told her. It has been her experience that myth, a combination of fantasy and memoir, appeals to children's imagination, creativity, and wonder about the world and their place in it.

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Sample Excerpts

Brigit enjoyed the day at the Twomey farmhouse picnic with her relatives, but she could not wait to return to Baiting Hollow. That evening she helped her mother carry bags of bowls and baskets of picnic leftovers into the bungalow. Dropping them on the kitchen counter, Brigit ran to her bedroom to slip into her bathing suit, then through the front door, and out onto the front steps.

She saw Kevin sitting by the bonfire he had built. He looked up and waved her down to join him. She bounced down the steps with her beach towel waving in her hand behind her. Brigit walked to the bonfire and stood next to Kevin. The sand felt cold on her bare feet, and the air had a cool breeze. "Are we going for our swim to the raft?" she asked.

Kevin stood up and smiled, "You are such a fish." He took off his sweatshirt, scooped Brigit up in his arms, ran to the water's edge, and threw her in. He dove in and surfaced right next to her. The Sound was vast, dark, and warm at night. Without saying a word, the two beach kids started swimming. The pattern of their strokes, hand over hand, and their deep breathing in and out, seemed to mimic the pattern of the waves.

When they reached the raft, Kevin hopped up, then extended his hand to help Brigit up. There was a chill in the air. They could see their bonfire on the shore. The two friends of summer turned and sat shoulder to shoulder looking out at the dark waters of Long Island Sound. They could see Connecticut's lights on the horizon.

"Look at the fireworks on the cliff," Kevin said. Propelled off the cliffs, rockets would burst with a bang into thousands of lights and fall into the Sound. Over and over in all sorts of colors and shapes. This summer's fireworks seemed more exciting than ever. They o-o-o'ed and ah'ed as each new explosion of colored lights filled the night sky.

As the last of the fireworks ended, Kevin suggested they swim into shore and enjoy the bonfire for a while. Although content to stay out in the water, Brigit could see Kevin was trembling from the cold and his lips were turning blue. In unison, they dove into the water and swam back to the beach. Kevin ran ahead and grabbed his sweatshirt and brought Brigit's beach towel to her. He wrapped it around her, and they both ran to the bonfire.

The bonfire was roaring now, blazing high over their heads. Brigit's sister, cousins, and a few beach kids were roasting marshmallows on sticks. Brigit and Kevin joined them. The bonfire warmed them to the bone, and in a very short time they noticed their suits were dry. When the marshmallows were gone, the others seemed to have had enough, said goodnight, and went into their bungalows.

The beach was dark now: no street lights, no house lights. Red embers were all that was left of the bonfire. The stars and the moon were out. In the dark, quiet, coldness of the beach, Brigit wondered out loud, "Why is it Kevin? What is it about this little beach? The minute I see it, the minute my feet sink in the warm sand, the minute I dive deep in the cold salt water, the minute I am with you, I feel happy. I have to wait the entire school year to come back to Baiting Hollow. So, for two weeks out of the fifty-two weeks of the year, I am totally happy. Why Kevin?"

There was a long pause, a long silence. Brigit and Kevin stared at the bonfire embers. She really didn't expect an answer. She knew there was no answer. Her family lived in Connecticut, now just a few flickering lights on the horizon. Baiting Hollow was her family vacation place for two weeks out of the year. Her best friend lived there. That was that.

She was almost ready to accept it, when Kevin took in a long deep breath and then exhaled a long slow painful exhale. Brigit felt terrible. She thought she had upset him. She never saw him annoyed with her before. After another long silent pause, Kevin spoke, "I will tell you the secret."

"What secret?" Brigit asked.

"Please, Brigit, don't interrupt," he scolded. "One evening this past spring, before any of the summer families arrived, I was sitting on the jetty, the one between our families' bungalows, just fishing the way I do every evening. My mother came out and sat next to me. She started to talk about being the last of the original Baiting Hollow beach people who lived here all year round. She reminisced about the good old days. She remembered her mother's stories of the bungalows being built, and she could still name each and every one of the original owners. She loved Baiting Hollow and wanted to know how I felt about it and if I planned to live here forever."

"When I assured her that Baiting Hollow always was and always would be my home, she told me the secret of Baiting Hollow. She had never told another soul, not even my father. I had to promise to only pass the secret on to one person in my lifetime. I had to be sure that special person loved Baiting Hollow the way she and I did. This was the only way the secret of Baiting Hollow would be safe."

"I believe you are that person. You must promise to only tell one person in your lifetime. Can I trust you with the secret of Baiting Hollow?"

Brigit did not know what Kevin was talking about. She felt a little frightened. It was dark, they were alone now on an empty beach, and she did not like ghost stories. Kevin seemed to be in a very strange mood. She had never seen him like this. She nodded with her eyes closed and promised, "Yes, Kevin, I do love Baiting Hollow and would never divulge the secret. I promise I will only tell one person in my lifetime, one person I believe loves Baiting Hollow the way we do and will keep the secret."

Kevin looked away. He seemed to survey the water for a clue, a sign, or a place to begin. His eyes rested on the jetty, and he began to tell his story.

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Catalogue Information

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