3 An Audience

3. AN AUDIENCE "Ahoy, Matilda!" Jim Lad yelled from the prow of the Jolley-Rogers' amphibious truck. A few hours earlier, Jim had sent Squawk, the Jolley-Rogers' macaw,

to visit Matilda with news of their imminent arrival. Matilda was waiting on the beach as the truck chug-chug- chugged its way through the surf and onto the sand, shedding seaweed, salt water, and shellfish. Jim's mom had decided it would be a good idea to anchor the Blackhole offshore because she didn't want Dull-on- Sea's rats coming aboard. Jim jumped off the truck as it came to a halt and gave Matilda the biggest pirate hug he could muster before they both ran off across the beach, giggling and weaving between the few tourists that were left in Dull-on-Sea. The rats didn't seem to like the beach, so a few locals were taking refuge there

too, enjoying the warm but slightly overcast weather. Bones chased after Jim and Matilda, barking excitedly, his wooden leg leaving a trail of evenly spaced hollows in the sand. Nugget hoisted herself out of her car seat and climbed onto the prow of the truck. She swung her fiddle to her shoulder, held her bow aloft, and started to play. Matilda stopped dead. "Is that Nugget!" "Yeah," said Jim. "It's 'orrible! I have to put my 'eadphones on to drown it out!" "It's BEAUTIFUL!" said Matilda. "Let's go and listen!" Jim, confused, took a moment to fully understand what Matilda had said.

But before he could answer, Matilda was gone, running across the beach toward Nugget. By the time Jim caught up with her beside the truck, Nugget had an audience, mostly made up of gawping, swaying children.

Jim's mom and dad looked just as confused as him, and Jim's dad had already stuffed his ears with corks. "Would it be OK if I record you playing?" Matilda asked when Nugget paused to scratch her nose. Nugget looked pleased: finally, someone appreciated her music! The rest of the Jolley-Rogers looked aghast.

"Aye!" said Nugget with an enormous grin. "That'd be just fine!" Matilda's mom had recently given her an old phone, and Matilda took it everywhere. It was just the thing for recording Nugget's music. With renewed gusto, Nugget played the three songs that Grandpa Rogers had been teaching her. They weren't perfect, but Matilda and the other children were entranced. When Nugget finished (and she only stopped because she had run out of tunes), all the children were a little dazed. They looked at one another, overcome by what they had heard. Then there was a smattering of applause, and they all