Mermaid School

by Lucy Courtenay

  Marnie shrugged. “Like she is on Radio SeaWave. Funny, and always singing. But she sleeps a lot. And she’s always teasing my mom. And she talks to her pet fish.”

  “That’s so cool,” Pearl gasped.

  Marnie felt a little glimmer of pride. Maybe being related to Christabel Blue wasn’t ALL bad. Except when she put snakes in your school bag for fun.

  Marnie had been looking forward to her music lessons. But the way Miss Tangle was looking at her, music lessons weren’t going to be any fun at all.

  “There’s no need to ask who you’re related to,” said Miss Tangle with a sniff. “I had hoped with a mother like yours you would be a sensible, hardworking member of my class. But after this morning’s performance, it’s clear that you take after another member of your family.”

  Marnie tried to smile. “Did you teach my mom, Miss Tangle?”

  “I had the pleasure of teaching your mother, yes.” Miss Tangle frowned. “I also taught your aunt Christabel.” She looked like she was eating rotten seaweed as she said Christabel’s name. “I judge my pupils on how many tentacles I need to keep them under control,” she went on. “And Christabel Blue was a ten-tentacle sort of pupil.”

  “But you’ve only got eight tentacles, Miss Tangle,” said Pearl.

  “Exactly,” said Miss Tangle, with some force. “I’m watching you, Marnie Blue. Sit down.”

  “Sit with me, Marnie!” said Lupita Barracuda, a bright-eyed mermaid with a cloud of deep brown curly hair and glimmering black scales. “You can have a minnow chew if you like.”

  “I just love your aunt,” sighed Dora Agua, the mermaid with the blue tail. “Can I have her autograph?”

  “This is a music lesson,” said Miss Tangle loudly. “Not a Christabel Blue fan club.”

  Marnie sank down on a rock at the back of the cave and tried to become invisible.

  “Now,” said Miss Tangle, when everyone had quietened down. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you the importance of singing in a mermaid’s education.”

  “It’s very important indeed, Miss Tangle,” said a familiar voice at the front of the class.

  It was the black-haired mermaid again. Orla, with the super-talented sister in the Gulf of Mexico. Pearl rolled her eyes at Marnie, who felt a little better.

  Miss Tangle beamed. “You’re right, Orla. Mermaids have used their singing voices for thousands of years. They have lured human ships onto rocks, it’s true. But they have also lured them away from rocks. You all know the danger you mermaids would be in if humans ever found out about you, but that doesn’t mean you should wish them harm. Humans are a threat, but not an enemy. It’s a simple matter of staying hidden.”

  “Yes, Miss Tangle,” said Orla. She looked at Marnie coldly. “Mermaids who nearly get us discovered are a real menace.”

  Marnie felt her cheeks going red. Everyone in Mermaid Lagoon knew the story of Christabel and the East Lagoon Rocks. Orla was clearly talking about her aunt.

  “Indeed,” Miss Tangle agreed, with a hard stare at Marnie. “Now let’s see what sort of voices we have in this class.”

  “Oh dear,” said Pearl.

  Marnie glanced at her. “Don’t you like singing?”

  “I like it very much,” said Pearl sadly. “But singing doesn’t like ME.”

  “There will be two groups,” said Miss Tangle, drifting around the music cave with her tentacles trailing and her coral beads clinking. “The first group will sing the words to the song and practice keeping their voices clear but full of charm. The second group will focus on harmonies, working on their tone and volume.”

  Orla was put in the first group.

  “Dora Agua and Pearl Cockle?” said Miss Tangle. “Join Orla please.”

  Pearl looked worried. “Marnie, will you help me? If your aunt is Christabel Blue, I bet you’re really good.”

  “I’ll help you if Miss Tangle puts me in the first group,” promised Marnie.

  Miss Tangle narrowed her eyes. “Marnie Blue? Second group.”

  Marnie made an apologetic face at Pearl, who made a face back.

  “Harmonizing is an important life skill for a mermaid,” said Miss Tangle to the second group.

  Marnie was determined not to be a diva like Aunt Christabel. “I’ll do my best, Miss Tangle,” she said.

  Miss Tangle looked a little more approving. “Follow the harmonies now. Ocean blue, ocean true, waves to make the world anew . . .”

  “Ocean blue . . .” sang the mermaids in the first group. “Ocean true . . .”

  “La, la, la,” sang Marnie in the second group, trying not to mind that she wasn’t singing the pretty tune or the lovely words.

  “OcEEAN blOOO,” sang Pearl.

  Marnie winced. Pearl was as flat as a flounder.

  “Miss Tangle?” Orla complained. “Pearl Cockle sounds like a boiled catfish. She’s messing the rest of us up.”

  Pearl blushed as the other mermaids giggled.

  “Perhaps you could sit this one out, Pearl,” Miss Tangle said. “Do I have any volunteers to take Pearl’s place?”

  Marnie put her hand up so high that she almost touched the roof of the cave. “Please, Miss Tangle,” she said a little breathlessly. “Can I sing the tune?” “She’ll be so good, Miss Tangle,” Pearl said at once. Marnie gave her a grateful glance. Miss Tangle sighed.

  “Very well,” she said. “But if you show off, or do anything silly . . .”

  “I won’t!” said Marnie. “I promise!”

  As Miss Tangle raised her tentacles, Marnie threw herself joyfully into singing the tune, letting the words and sounds roll around her. She forgot where she was and whom she was singing with. Which turned out to be a mistake.

  “Excuse me, Miss Tangle?” came a voice.

  Still holding her highest note, Marnie opened her eyes. She was the only person in the room who was still singing.

  “Marnie Blue’s showing off,” said Orla with a toss of her long black hair.

  Marnie wished she could disappear into the rock floor.

  Miss Tangle glared. “Marnie Blue! This is an ensemble class, not a solo performance!”

  “Miss Tangle, I wasn’t, I—”

  “I had enough of that behavior from your aunt,” said Miss Tangle furiously. “I won’t put up with it from you as well. Out of my class! Now!”

  Marnie swam out, trying not to cry.

  “So how was school?”

  Silently Marnie helped herself to sea anemone juice.

  Her mom tried again. “Did you have a good day?”

  Marnie shrugged and drank her juice in one gulp.

  “You’re like a tiger shark with toothache,” Aunt Christabel said. “What happened?”

  Marnie was determined not to cry. “It was a horrible day and I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.”

  She swam out of the kitchen and into her room, threw herself down on her clamshell bed and pressed her face into the sea-moss pillow.

  She wished she’d never started Mermaid School. What was the point, if she was going to get into trouble all the time?

  Her door opened. Aunt Christabel swam in with Garbo tucked under her arm.

  “You should have knocked,” Marnie said, angry now as well as upset.

  “I never knock,” said Aunt Christabel. “It’s the secret of my success.” She sat on the end of Marnie’s clamshell bed. “So, what happened at school today?”

  “You should know,” said Marnie furiously. “You started it.”

  Christabel looked startled. “What did I do?”

  Marnie looked her aunt straight in the eye. “You put that sea snake in my bag!”

  Aunt Christabel let Garbo go. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said as the little goldfish swam around the cave, sniffing the sea flowers on the rocky walls.

  Marnie glared. “I was looking for my bag this morning and you gave it to me and the next thing I know there’s a stinky sea snake inside that swims out and scares everyone a
nd gets me into trouble!”

  Aunt Christabel looked thoughtful. “And you think I put it in there?”

  “I had to go and see Lady Sealia!” Marnie wailed. “I got a warning because you’re my aunt! I’m trying to be me, Aunt Christabel, and the only thing anyone talked about all day was how I was just like you because I was so naughty. And I’m NOT and now I don’t want to go back to Mermaid School EVER.”

  Christabel reached over and brushed Marnie’s tears away with her thumb. “Slow down, minnow,” she said. “I didn’t put anything in your bag. Why would I?”

  “Because you thought it would be funny!”

  Aunt Christabel raised a perfect eyebrow. “There is a difference between playing a prank and being mean, Marnie. I may be many things, but I’m not mean.”

  Marnie suddenly felt uncertain. She wanted to believe her aunt. But if Christabel hadn’t put the snake in her bag, then who had?

  Minnow.

  A memory tickled the back of Marnie’s mind. Someone else had called her a minnow today.

  Watch where you’re going, minnow.

  “Orla Finnegan!” Marnie gasped. “She bumped into me on the way to school AND she’s been horrible to me all day. Maybe it was her!” She felt confused. “But why would she be picking on me? I don’t even know her.”

  Aunt Christabel clicked her tongue at Garbo, who swam back into her arms. “Enemies move in mysterious ways,” she said. “Like octopuses. Octopuses swim backward, did you know?”

  Marnie didn’t. She rubbed her nose. “My teacher Miss Tangle is an octopus,” she said. “She’s another one who thinks I’m naughty like you were.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret about Miss Tangle,” said Aunt Christabel, tickling Garbo’s chin. “When she farts, she shoots out ink.”

  Marnie gave a startled giggle.

  Aunt Christabel smiled. “So, those are the enemies you made today. What about the friends?”

  Marnie thought about the little gap in Pearl’s teeth when she smiled. “Pearl Cockle’s nice,” she said, feeling better. “Lupita Barracuda and Dora Agua seem OK too, although I think they just want your autograph.”

  “They sound very sensible,” said Aunt Christabel. “Three friends and one enemy then, not counting teachers. I think we know who’s winning.”

  Marnie threw her arms around her aunt. “Thank you,” she said into Aunt Christabel’s shoulder. “You always know the right thing to say.”

  Aunt Christabel rubbed Marnie’s back. “Come and have dinner. It’ll make you feel better.”

  In the kitchen, Marnie’s mom was stirring something on a large hot-water vent that stuck up from the lagoon bed. The shell pan popped and bubbled, releasing lovely smells, and Marnie realized how hungry she was. She gave her mom an impulsive hug as they sat down to large bowls of kelp casserole.

  “Sorry I was weird earlier,” she said. “It was a rough day.”

  “Tomorrow will be better, I’m sure,” said her mom. Marnie felt her mood dip again. Tomorrow would still have Orla in it. And Pearl, she reminded herself. And Lupita and Dora. But Orla’s mean face stayed in her mind.

  “Mom,” she said as they cleared the table after dinner. “What should I do if someone doesn’t like me?”

  Her mom stopped stacking the shell bowls in the hotvent dishwasher. “Someone at school doesn’t like you?” she said. “Who?”

  “No one,” said Marnie quickly. “I just want to know what to do.”

  “Be nice to them,” her mom said anxiously. “When someone is mean, there’s usually something making them sad.”

  Marnie screwed up her face. Being nice to Orla would be hard.

  “What do you think?” she asked, turning to her aunt.

  “Stay out of their way,” Aunt Christabel advised. “And don’t let them see that you’re scared.” She glanced at the arms on the starfish clock that clung to the kitchen wall. “Neptune’s knickers, is that the time? I’m going to be late for my show!”

  As she brushed her hair that night, Marnie thought about her mom and Christabel’s advice. It was nice that they were trying to help, but they didn’t have to face Orla in the morning. Marnie was going to worry all night and not get any sleep.

  “Would you like a Queen Maretta story?” her mom asked when she came in to tuck Marnie up. “To take your mind off things?”

  “Yes please,” Marnie said gratefully. She’d been feeling a bit too grown-up for stories lately, but tonight it was just what she needed.

  Her mom clapped her hands. “Go and find your dinner, Horace,” she said.

  The large angler fish swimming slowly around Marnie’s ceiling switched off his dangling light and swam out of the room. Now Marnie’s room was lit only by the pinpricks of light from the tiny phosphorescent fish that lived in the walls.

  “When Maretta was Queen of the Merfolk, there was a terrible storm,” her mom began. “The coral reefs and lagoon caves broke into pieces. The waters were so rough that the fish disappeared. The merfolk were going to starve if Maretta didn’t do something. So she went in search of the Weathermaker.

  “Everyone knew the Weathermaker was a bully who liked nothing better than sending bad weather to Mermaid Lagoon. But even the Weathermaker had never sent a storm this terrible. Maretta battled through the waves to the furthest shores of the lagoon, over to the caves where the Weathermaker lived above the surface.

  “‘Weathermaker!’ she called from the wild water. ‘I want to talk to you!’

  “‘I’m not leaving my cave,’ came the Weathermaker’s grumpy reply. ‘You’ll have to come to ME.’

  “Maretta knew that if she left the water, she would have to give up her voice in exchange for human legs. But her people were counting on her, and she didn’t hesitate. She left the lagoon and walked on dry land to the mouth of the Weathermaker’s cave.”

  “What’s it like?” Marnie interrupted, fascinated. “Having legs?”

  “I’ve never been brave enough to find out,” said her mom.

  “Do you always have to give up your voice in order to have legs?” Marnie asked. “What if you never get it back? And what about your tail? Do you always get your tail back when you go into the water again?”

  “I don’t know,” said her mom. “Now, Maretta walked up to the Weathermaker’s cave, ready to have an argument. But to her surprise, the Weathermaker was crying.

  “‘No one likes me,’ he sobbed. ‘No one ever visits me in my cave. I don’t have any friends!’

  “Maretta forgot her anger and put her arm around the Weathermaker instead. The Weathermaker was cold and rigid, but Maretta hugged him until he started warming up. And as he warmed up, the sun came out and the waves quietened. The storm was over. Maretta had saved her people, and Mermaid Lagoon was calm again.”

  Marnie snuggled deeper into her sea-moss covers and yawned. The Weathermaker just wanted a friend, she thought as she floated away to sleep. But she couldn’t imagine risking her voice and her tail to make friends with Orla. No way.

  The mermaids wriggled in their coral seats, listening to the deputy head speaking from the rocky stage. Pearl sneezed five times in a row and Marnie gave her a tissue. Her ears burned with the effort of not looking at Orla.

  Ms. Mullet’s voice echoed around the Assembly Cave. Her shell glittered with tiny barnacles and her small eyes swivelled on their stalks. Marnie had a feeling that the old crab missed nothing. There was no sign of Lady Sealia, except in the portraits on the walls.

  “. . . and please remember not to chase the reef sharks,” Ms. Mullet was saying. “They can be unpredictable, particularly at lunchtime . . . I’m pleased to say that the library is open again after this morning’s unfortunate snapper invasion. Thank you, Len.”

  A brown-and-white-striped lionfish sitting to one side of the stage looked up from his book, lazily waved his frilled fins, and looked down again.

  Pearl leaned in to Marnie. “Lionfish are really venomous,” she whispered. “I feel sorry for the snappe
r . . . ATCHOO! Can I have another tissue?”

  A small grey fish flapped up to Ms. Mullet and whispered something.

  “. . . and Monsieur Poisson asks that no one enter the sea cucumber patch as our sea cucumbers are breeding. They taste funny if they’ve been disturbed,” Ms. Mullet finished. She snapped her claws. “Now, as you are aware, yesterday’s tour of the school did not take place.”

  “And we all know whose fault that was,” Marnie heard Orla whisper to Mabel Anemone a few seats away.

  “I will lead the tour right after this assembly.” Ms. Mullet’s eyes swivelled in the direction of the first years. “Every first year is to gather outside the Assembly Cave and wait for me there. Thank you for your attention.”

  Marnie waited until Orla had swept out of the Assembly Cave in front of her. She didn’t want to give the black-haired mermaid another chance to play a trick on her. But apart from a dirty look, Orla ignored Marnie completely.

  “I think Orla put that snake in my bag yesterday,” Marnie told Pearl as they swam out of the cave for Ms. Mullet’s tour. “She wanted me to get into trouble.”

  “Why?” asked Pearl.

  Marnie shook her head. “I don’t know. But it’s the only theory I’ve got.”

  “Attention please.”

  Ms. Mullet was perched on a ledge above the first years, who stopped chattering at once.

  “Welcome to Lady Sealia Foam’s Mermaid School,” said the deputy head. “The school was set up by Lady Sealia’s great-great-great grandmother, Queen Maretta, to prepare young mermaids for life in the Seven Seas.”

  This made the first years chatter all over again. They had been listening to stories about Queen Maretta all their lives. Marnie thought about her mom’s story last night. It was amazing to think Queen Maretta was once alive.

  “All our classrooms, laboratories, kitchens, stables and library are built into School Rock,” Ms. Mullet continued, “all the way from the surface of the lagoon to the bottom of the seabed. Follow me.”

  As Ms. Mullet scuttled away, the first years followed with a swish of their tails.

  “Where do the merboys go to school?” Dora Agua wanted to know.