Bad Mermaids Make Waves

by Sibéal Pounder

  Steve pondered it for a moment. “Bit much,” he decided.

  Beattie floated up to the lips and prodded them. They were solid but seemed to move. “I think it’s open. We can just squeeze in,” she whispered, pushing an arm through.

  Emerging at the other side of the fish lips, they made their way down a long corridor with crystal ornaments and pearl trinkets propped up on either side. It was like crawling inside a treasure chest that was constantly vomiting itself up, over and over again.

  Every trickle of water, every creak or falling grain of sand made Beattie jump.

  “This looks promising,” Zelda said, poking her head through one of the great sand arches into a room crammed with book cases.

  Beattie did a loop of the room. It smelled of sweetened kelp and damp sand, and she could feel in her tail bones that they were onto some thing. She began rifling through crystal drawers and seaweed scripts, looking for anything sinister, anything about Arabella Cod. There was nothing, just receipts for shells and hairdos at Curly Clips.

  Zelda flicked through the latest issue of Clamzine. “Look, it’s got profiles of all the SHOAL mermaids. Might be useful,” she said, stuffing it in the inside pocket of her waistcoat.

  “OPEN, FISH LIPS!” they heard a mermaid shout.

  Beattie spun around, her eyes wide.

  “That’s Hilma Snapp,” she hissed as Zelda and Mimi swam from left to right and smacked into each other. The crystal drawer in Mimi’s arm went flying. Beattie dived for it, her hands shaking. She belly flopped, catching it with her little finger just before it hit the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Well done,” Steve whispered as he took a seat on the edge of the drawer, providing just enough weight to tip it. The drawer fell from Beattie’s finger before she could stop it and landed on the floor with a TING!

  “I CAN HEAR YOU!” Hilma roared.

  Beattie squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” she heard Steve repeatedly whisper in her ear. She grabbed him and tucked him under her armpit.

  He hated that.

  “I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE!” Hilma Snapp shouted. “AND I KNOW YOU STOLE OUR CLAM CAR—I SPOTTED IT NEAR THE THEATER, ALL PAINTED AND RUINED!”

  “What now?” Zelda whispered.

  Beattie held a finger to her lips—she could hear the scratching sound of a tail trailing along the hallway.

  Zelda was trying to force a window open, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “COME OUT RIGHT NOW!” Hilma Snapp screamed. The noise made the sand castle shake, sending trickles of sand down the walls as the three mermaids floated helplessly on the spot.

  Steve squeezed out from under Beattie’s armpit, spluttering, as she dared to peer into the hall—she could see Hilma Snapp coming. Her long tail had a curtain of lace like seaweed covering it, a little like a human wedding dress.

  “Hide,” Beattie whispered as the twins scattered.

  Steve panicked and latched onto Beattie’s earlobe.

  “OW, STEVE!” she cried.

  “Perfect hiding place,” he insisted. “She’ll just think you have terrible taste in earrings.”

  Beattie turned to the others. “We’ll have to swim over her and out of the fish lips.”

  Mimi and Zelda looked unsure.

  “Ready . . . ,” Beattie began, though she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea either. “NOW!”

  The three of them darted out into the hallway.

  “THIEVES!” Hilma Snapp seethed as she watched them soar over head, hugging the edge of the sandy ceiling.

  Zelda and Mimi dived at the fish lips together and disappeared. Beattie closed her eyes and dived after them, but the fish lips barely budged! She clawed her way through with a determined look on her face until there was only her tail to go—and that’s when she saw them.

  Oysterdale mermaids.

  Hundreds of them.

  19

  Silvia Snapp’s Alibi

  Beattie tried, without drawing too much attention to herself, to yank her tail from the fish lips. But it was no good, she was stuck. The cluster of Oysterdale mermaids gathered on the lawn stared at her, their embellished tails flicking back and forth in unison.

  Hilma glided down from one of the sand castle’s many turrets and swam back and forth in front of the crowd. “I CAUGHT THEM, DIDN’T I!”

  “STOP SHOUTING, HILMA!” Silvia Snapp shouted. The two of them turned to face Beattie, identical grins carved on their faces. Silvia Snapp’s black hair was pulled into high, taut plaits twisted together and standing perfectly erect on her head. Her nails were as long as the claws of a crocodile but, unlike a crocodile, each was studded with a pearl. She pulled at one of her long nails. By the time she had stopped extending it, and the crowd of Oysterdale mermaids had stopped giggling and squealing, the nail was about as long as Beattie’s tail.

  “Wh—what are you going to do with that?” Zelda asked, backing up into Beattie’s face.

  “Get me out,” Beattie mumbled into Zelda’s tail.

  Zelda turned to help her, but Silvia Snapp flicked her finger, placing the terrifyingly long talon between them and ushering Zelda forward.

  “Ah ah ah, no you don’t.”

  The Oysterdale mermaids clapped and started to edge toward them, each pulling at their own talons and lengthening them.

  “You didn’t think we’d let you leave, after all you’ve done,” Hilma Snapp said with a snigger. “Stealing our car and ruining it, and then breaking into our sand-castle. Tut. Tut. Tut.”

  Silvia Snapp floated forward. “And how did you get here without the piranhas catching you?”

  “What did you do with Arabella Cod?” Beattie demanded.

  “Oh, that pufferfish. What do you mean, what did I do with her? She left the Lagoon!” Silvia Snapp cackled, running a finger over her talon to gauge its sharpness.

  Beattie got a glimpse of Silvia Snapp’s palm. She had the SHOAL stamp! “So you did meet with Arabella Cod on the day she went missing,” Beattie said. “She was here.”

  Silvia Snapp wrinkled her nose. “Yes. We had a meeting. But then I called her an old carp, so she left to see Goda Gar in Anchor Rock, who is a slimy little eel.”

  “And then what?” Beattie pressed as all the other Oysterdale mermaids looked on, confused. “Then what did you do?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Hilma spat.

  Silvia Snapp shot her a look. “Other mermaids are always interested in us, my little fish, because we Oysterdale mermaids are fascinating. And they are boring.”

  “Yes,” Beattie said. “That’s the reason why I asked tha—”

  “Well, I was in Curly Clips,” Silvia Snapp interrupted boast fully. “I went there straight after my meeting for a nice long appointment with Ommy. You know that Ommy, the new Piranha Army chief, lives in the palace. Important. We’re friends. He booked the appointment for me and he came too.”

  “You and Ommy?” Beattie said.

  “Yes,” Silvia Snapp snapped. “Ommy and me. Hair appointment. Curly Clips.”

  She pointed a long talon at Beattie’s face. “See?” she said to Hilma. “Look how in awe she is.”

  “No, that’s Beattie’s OH COD face,” Mimi said flatly.

  “Now,” Silvia Snapp said, weaving her way closer to Zelda, who was edging farther and farther away from the crowd. “We shall have to put you some where safe while we alert Ommy. He’ll be very interested in you weird little piranha-dodging mermaids.” She grabbed Beattie’s hand and inspected her nails. “Strange. They have the mark.”

  20

  The Mysterious Mermaid

  Far away in the Upper Realms, Belinda Shelton floated by a rock covered in crocodile carvings. She scribbled some thing in a chunky seaweed note book.

  “YOU’LL BE MY NEXT HAT!” came a shout.

  Belinda Shelton looked up, her eyes wide. There, swim ming in the near distance, was a mermaid. And she was yelling at a lobster. Something about hats. She
wore a veil, her face completely hidden from view, and an armor-like casing of shells over her tail, and she pulled a fat little piranha along on a leash. It looked a little cross-eyed as she dragged it carelessly over rocks.

  “HELLO!” Belinda Shelton shouted.

  The mermaid turned.

  “No,” Belinda Shelton gasped, shielding her eyes. “But it’s impossible!”

  The mermaid was wearing a shell top as sunglasses. They glowed brightly, the shells’ crocodile carvings casting shadows on the rocks.

  Belinda Shelton felt dizzy just looking at them. She stumbled backward and grabbed a rock to steady herself. “The Ruster Shells,” she said with a squeak. “They’re back.”

  21

  Fish Lips

  Beattie was still stuck in the fish lips, and she was beginning to give up. She wasn’t a hero; she was just a mermaid. A mermaid stuck in the world’s most elaborate sand castle entrance.

  Hilma Snapp’s hysterical laughter danced around Smug Street, making the sand castles shed sprinkles of sand.

  Zelda grabbed Beattie’s arms and frantic ally tried to free her.

  “Oh dear, no escape!” Silvia Snapp said as the crowd of Oysterdale mermaids cackled.

  “LET US GO!” Beattie shouted, pulling wildly at her tail. The fish lips wouldn’t budge. Her mind was racing. She needed to distract them so Zelda and Mimi could help pull her free. But what would distract an Oysterdale mer—“HAVE YOU SEEN MY NEW EARRING?” Beattie roared before she had finished the thought, making the mermaids fall silent.

  “Earring?” Silvia Snapp said, clearly intrigued.

  “Excuse you, what are you doing?” Steve hissed.

  “Go with it,” Beattie mumbled out of the side of her mouth. “Wait until we’re gone, then do what you do best.”

  “It’s the only talking sea horse earring in the entire Lagoon,” Beattie said proudly.

  “Oooooh, accessory,” the Oysterdale mermaids cooed, their talons retracting as they moved closer.

  “It’s like a pair of earrings . . . but just one,” a mermaid said as he reached out to touch it. “I’ve seen sea horse nose decorations before, but never this . . .”

  Hilma Snapp plucked Steve from Beattie’s ear and held him up in awe.

  “Hello,” he said grudgingly.

  She jumped and laughed hysterically. “IT REALLY SPEAKS!”

  Mimi slowly moved back ward. Beattie watched as Zelda nodded at Mimi.

  “NOW!” Zelda screamed, diving down toward Beattie as Mimi casually turned and fin-fu chopped the fish lips.

  The entire sand castle crumbled into a pile in one dusty explosion of sand.

  “She may talk to sun loungers,” Zelda said, “but my twin can topple castles when she wants to.”

  “MY SANDCASTLE!” Silvia Snapp wailed as Steve slipped from her grasp and fell into the crowd.

  “MINE!”

  “NO MINE!”

  “GIVE THE TALKING EARRING TO ME!”

  The mermaids yelled as they tumbled about in a ball, trying desperately to grab Steve. Beattie swam fast with the others down the street. She looked back and saw Hilma angrily trying to squeeze out of the hulking crowd of mermaids all clamoring for the earring.

  “THEY’RE GETTING AWAY!” she roared. “THEY’RE GETTING AWAY!”

  “We did it!” Zelda said as the three of them dived into the clam car and steered it down a side street and into a cove.

  “THE CLAM CAR WAS HERE BUT NOW IT’S GONE!” they heard Hilma Snapp shout. A herd of Oysterdale mermaids tore right past them and straight into the tunnel.

  “They think we’ve gone,” Beattie said as she spotted Steve floating outside the window, his eyes narrow.

  Beattie opened the clam car so he could swim in. “I’m sorry, Steve. It was the only thing that would distract them!”

  Steve swam to his false teeth. “I’LL BE IN MY BEDROOM,” he said, lifting up the top teeth and swimming in, letting them snap down loudly behind him.

  Beattie awkwardly patted the teeth. “Thanks, Steve . . .”

  “Let’s go to Curly Clips while we’re here and they’re hunting for us out there,” Zelda suggested. “We need to check that Silvia Snapp is telling the truth about her alibi.”

  22

  Curly Clips, the Hairdresser

  The clam shell car stuttered its way into the Curly Clips dive-thru and came to an abrupt halt at window one.

  “Sabrina Scoosh here, best hairdresser in the Lagoon and winner of the Crab Clipper Style Award. What can I do for you today?”

  Her mound of curly hair was decorated with star fish and a coating of sparkly sand.

  The three of them just blinked at her.

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asked impatiently.

  “Nope,” Zelda said, sticking her head out of the car window. “But we’d like one.”

  Before Beattie knew what was happening, the clamshell car roof was whipped back and some incredibly effcient crabs began pruning and plumping their hair.

  “I’ve never seen you around here before,” Sabrina said. “Have you always lived in Oysterdale?”

  Mimi began to shake her head but Beattie grabbed her plaits. “Maybe you could do some thing fun with these plaits? And, yes, we’ve always lived in Oyster dale.” She pulled at Mimi’s plaits, making her head nod.

  “Nothing for me,” Zelda said, ducking to avoid the strange assortment of fish that were circling their heads.

  “Well, we’ve got five fishy specials today!” the mermaid said, pointing to a menu on the wall.

  “Um,” Beattie said, breathing a sigh of relief. The mermaid believed they were from Oysterdale. “I’ll have . . . the Cod Curl?”

  A substantial cod flopped down and got to work on Beattie.

  “Nothing for me,” Zelda said again, batting a fish away. “Leave my flick alone.”

  Curly Clips

  Dive-Thru Specials

  Flat Fish Fluffer—12 clatters

  Puffer Fish Flattner—12 clatters

  Striped Fish Spritz and Color—25 clatters

  Speedy Eel Shock Treatment—19 clatters

  Cod Curl—12 clatters

  (Please note: Anyone traveling by whale will not be allowed in the dive-thru for safety reasons.)

  Mimi took a moment to ponder the menu as the cod stretched Beattie’s hair beyond recognition, swirling up and letting the hair ping into one single, sculptural, giant, hideous, not-at-all-Beattie curl. “Nothing for me, thanks,” Mimi finally said.

  “I hate you both,” Beattie whispered as a jelly fish hovered in front of her with a mirror.

  “And the beauty of it is,” Sabrina oozed, “IT’LL LAST FOR DAYS!” She made to snap down the shell roof.

  “Wait,” Beattie said. “Silvia Snapp told us she was in here the day Arabella Cod was fish napped.”

  The mermaid nodded. “Oh yes, she’s a regular. Our most famous client. Of course, she comes to me; I am the best.”

  “And did you see Arabella Cod at all that day?” Zelda asked.

  “Oh yes, I did. I was outside welcoming Silvia Snapp and Ommy and I saw her at the end of the street. She left through the tunnel. Horrible scowl on her face.”

  “Really,” Beattie mumbled. “So Silvia Snapp was telling the truth.”

  “Apparently Silvia Snapp called her an old carp,” Sabrina said with a shrug.

  “So they had their meeting and then Silvia Snapp came here,” Beattie pondered. “And how long was Silvia Snapp in here for?” she added as Zelda play fully prodded her new hair.

  “Well . . . let’s see,” the mermaid said, flicking through a book on her counter.

  “She had the exclusive Electrifying Eel Plump and Fluff treatment. It takes four hours.”

  “Four hours,” Beattie repeated.

  “Four hours,” the mermaid said again.

  “And Ommy?”

  “He had a shorter treatment, a restyle—nice little bob ’do,” the hairdresser said. “Just a quick
half hour. So lovely of him to book the appointment for her. Mermaids in the other cities say he’s evil because of the piranhas, and the fact that he’s got them all on lock-down and lets us do whatever we want. But that’s only because we’re the best, and anyway—would an evil mermaid book the Electrifying Eel Plump and Fluff treatment for a friend? No, I don’t think so.”

  Beattie stared off through the dive-thru hatch, her mind racing. “So Silvia Snapp had her hair done all after noon.” She spotted a poster on the back wall.

  “Will that be all?” echoed the distant voice of the Curly Clips mermaid. Beattie’s eyes were fixed on the poster.

  CURLY CLIPS: THE OFFICIAL HAIRDRESSER FOR CATWALK SHRIMP!

  EVERY DAY AT 6:30.

  She remembered what Shelly Shelby had said—she had to bring shells to Silvia Snapp’s house on the day Arabella Cod went missing. She was annoyed because Silvia Snapp demanded she go in the evening, when her favorite show was on—Catwalk Shrimp.

  Beattie turned to the others. “Silvia Snapp was here all after noon, and with Shelly Shelby in the evening—there’s no way she could’ve fish napped Arabella Cod.”

  “Ray Ramona has an alibi for that whole after noon: he was in Jawella’s; so does Liberty Ling: she was playing shockey—the article said so—and Silvia Snapp was at the hairdresser,” Mimi said, listing each of the alibis.

  “Well then,” Zelda said. “It can only be Goda Gar.”

  23

  Um . . .

  Beattie fired up the Clamorado 7 and they took off toward Anchor Rock. It seemed like the only place left that they might find the truth, but Beattie couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing some thing.

  Steve stared at Beattie’s new hairdo. “I can fix this, Beattie. I just need a crab, a couple of rocks, and something reeeally stretchy.”