by Kristie Cook
“So, no one even asked you to go?”
I contemplated lying, but told her the truth. “Ryan did.”
Her jaw dropped. “And what happened?”
“I said no.”
“What? Why?” Georgia slammed her apparent second Diet Coke down, clanking it against the table with a splash.
For once I’d knocked Georgia speechless. I marveled in the quiet for a moment as her eyes—lashes heavy with mascara—watched me in wonder. Coyly, I smiled back.
“The guy I want to go with didn’t ask me, so … I’m not going,” I shrugged and crunched on another chip.
“Who?”
“No one you know.”
“Does he go here? ‘Cause I know everyone at this school.”
“No, but it’s fine.” I looked away, avoiding the confrontation.
“Whatever,” she said with a huff and prattled on, completely oblivious to the fact that people were strangely gawking at me.
Sixth period came and went with more odd stares from my peers. At the bell, I went straight to the pool without stopping to drop my books off at my locker. Drama with my name was apparently underfoot and I had no wish to indulge it. Only a good workout would calm my nerves.
I was the first at the pool for practice. A dash of talcum powder helped me slide on my swim cap. Swim blocks lined the wall, newly installed for the meet. I stepped onto the lane three block. Rough sandpaper secured my feet on the otherwise slippery metal as I laced my toes over the edge.
In a week and two days, a crowd would fill the empty bleachers and Meredith would be standing to my right. I imagined the gun popping and leapt into the air. The bubbles rushed past my ears as I glided like a torpedo. One stroke … two … three … deep breath … flip-turn. My body flew up and over the water. I had to be untouchable—faster. I finished the set and pulled my head up to check the time. I did it. My best time ever.
“Cannon ball,” Georgia screamed and careened into the water next to me, interrupting my imaginary win.
As she surfaced, I pushed her head under.
“Did you see?” She popped her head up further away, half of her smiling mouth under the water.
“See what?”
She laughed and splashed me. “You have to go to Senior Ball.”
“What do you mean? No, I don’t.”
She took a water-logged piece of paper out of her suit top. “Oh yes you do. Look.”
I grabbed the dissolving pink filaments and stared. On it was a list of candidates to vote for Senior Ball royalty. My name, the third one listed, jumped out at me under the heading Senior Ball Queen.
“Where’d you get this? Georgia? Georgia!”
She just laughed and swam away from me. With tepid cheeks, I looked around at the other swimmers who’d started their warm-up, curious grins on their faces. Apparently, this wasn’t a joke and explained all the staring.
6 - FIN
Unsure where to go the next morning, I hung out by the palace—the place I was supposed to meet Azor the night before—and waited. Standing him up wasn’t the most brilliant plan, but I wasn’t thinking straight last night. A steady stream of females went inside while the mermen headed towards a sandy field behind the palace. I drifted in their direction, looking for a familiar face.
The crystal ball shot sunlight into the city, making my tail ache to change back. Rarely did we spend the night in Natatoria, let alone the next day. Normally, we hung out in our retrofitted basement swimming pool with easy access to the lake through the hatch.
Unused to being solidly underwater, I attributed Natatoria’s atmosphere to the claustrophobia that slowly started to choke me. But what I missed most was coffee, something impossible to brew, let alone drink down here. Plus the few pieces of fish I’d eaten for breakfast had already burned through me and I craved some substance like French toast or pancakes.
If it wasn’t for Dad’s mission, I’d be on the deck of the Empress right now, sipping a good Sumatra and showing tourists the bay in full sunlight. Instead I was listening to some guy named Chauncey explain the rules for today’s hand-to-fin combat tournament. The only reason I paid attention was because the winner got a golden trophy cup filled with rubies—not a bad reward.
When Chauncey finished his rhetoric, I floated among the group, trying to look like I fit in. Where was Azor?
“Aye, son,” a redheaded merman with a thick Irish accent said. “You’d be Jack’s son, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, unsure if that was a good thing.
Without hesitation, he swam over and gave me a bear hug. “I’m Badger. Good to meet ya. You’ll be my partner today. How’s that?”
“Okay.” I guess.
I followed him over to the edge of the field. Memories of Dad talking to me about him vaguely came to mind.
“What’s with you, lad?” Badger asked.
I pressed my thumb against my temple, willing away my caffeine headache. “Don’t you ever crave something other than fish?”
Badge threw his mane of hair back into the current and laughed. “Aye, lad. Every day. I’d love me a thick Guinness right about now and me mum’s fried shredded potato.”
His full-bodied holler echoed over the field, which lightened my spirits. “That does sound good.”
“Ya missin’ the food from the Pacific already, aye?” He raised one hairy eyebrow.
“Dad’s on a mission, so I’m stuck here training on temporary assignment until he returns.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Well, we aren’t half as bad as ya think, but then, most of these boys would start blubberin’ like wee girls at the first sign of combat.” Badger flared his fin to reveal the deadly barbs just under the surface. “You’re with the best.”
I smirked, suddenly remembering the time Dad came home from Natatoria with a limp. Badger was the one he was sparring with that day. “So I’ve heard.”
Badger beat his hand on his tattooed chest, inked with obvious important issues of his past. “The Irish Republican Army is where I got me battle scars. But me thinks ye be needin’ some real home cookin’ to deal with yer homesickness. Sandy’s makin’ me somethin’ special tonight.” He looked left then right and whispered. “Somethin’ from me country.”
“How’d you get—?”
“Oh, I’ve got me ways. And with that air gizmo, it’ll be something to savor. Me mermaid’s an excellent cook.” He nodded and under his knobby beard, his lips pulled into a smile, revealing a gold incisor. My taste buds watered at the possibilities of what she’d make on a real stove in an oxygen-filled kitchen. “Now let’s get to sparrin’ so I can bring home that cup ‘o rubies fer me doll.”
“Oh, like that’s gonna happen.” I swam back and poised my tail, barbs out. “On guard.”
Badge shot past me like a cannon, knocking me right into the coral. I shook my head and leveled myself.
He floated above me and held his belly, howling. “Son, ya need to keep focused.” He grabbed my hand and yanked me off the seabed. “Get yer head out of yer arse and hold your fin up like this.”
He positioned himself to show me how to hit my opponent by just bending at the waist and angling my tail for a faster hit. I copied his example.
“Aye, there ya go,” he said with more confidence. “Try again. But whatever ye do, don’t let me pass.”
Badger rushed me, faster this time, and with ease promptly knocked me on my backside into the sea kelp. I spit out the sand and cursed under my breath.
“Now don’t start blubberin’ on me. You’ll get better. Keep yer eyes open. That was yer last freebee.”
Freebee ?
I growled. Part of me wanted to close-line him with my arm the next time he passed. But I was to learn the proper way to tail-duel, as stupid as it was. Shooting each other evil glares, we floated in the current for a moment, ten feet apart with challenging stances. I pawed my hand forward, inviting him to try it again. He gave me a nod. I smiled. This round would happen my way.
Over his shoulder, though, I caught a glimpse of a girl with long auburn hair, holding a tray with something on top of it. A hint of honeysuckle infused the water around me.
Ashlyn?
I’d lost my preparation. Badger had already set off to retaliate and fire rushed up my fin, seizing my muscles. Then the world went hazy.
***
“Sorry about earlier, laddy,” Badger said while relaxing on his moss-covered lounge chair, smoking his pipe and wriggling his hairy toes. The golden trophy stood on the tabletop in between us filled with a small fortune in rubies sparkling from within.
I yanked my hand from my injuries, realizing I’d been massaging the spots where he’d stung me earlier. After our short practice, he really let loose and took me out on the first round. “Oh, it’s fine.”
In the privacy of Badger’s air-filled home, he sat in his kilt and I in my board shorts, stretching our legs. We indulged in pints of freshly squeezed orange juice—though I suspected his had a little something extra added.
Sunlight hit various mirrors staggered on the walls, allowing self-willed conversion from fin to feet. From the kitchen, like I’d hoped, onions and garlic simmered in some type of butter sauce and the delicious smell wafted into the cramped living space, making my mouth water.
“This is the secret, lad. Ya need to be watchin’ at all times. All it takes is one stupid moment ganderin’ some pretty lass’s tail and ZAP, yer a goner.” He laughed and scratched at his hairy belly before perching his hand into his beltline.
The sting from his barb felt exactly like the electric shock I’d experienced when I was ten. After Dad and I had installed electrical lines in the basement for our entertainment center, he turned on the juice but I wasn’t finished taping the bare wire. My body still throbbed in memory of the pain.
“Who was that girl anyway?”
“That be Sandy’s niece, Lily. She’s a cutie and available, if yer askin’.”
“No-o,” I stuttered. “I—just—she looks like someone I know, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see.” He winked then relaxed his head back and made O rings with the smoke. “Ah, this is just what I needed. Well, a peek at TV might have been nice.”
I laughed and looked around the room—very untypical of a mer. An oil painting of a ship at sea hung over a simulated fireplace, one that could never be lit. On the mantle were more sparring trophies, a spyglass, and some empty bottles. On the other wall was a wooden plaque that said Sea Queen that hung on a chain from rusty nails. Next to it was a ship helm and a Celtic cross inlayed with green stones.
“From me ship. I was a fisherman before my Sandy came along.”
“Was that your ship?” I pointed to the painting.
“Aye,” Badge nodded his head. “The Sea Queen was a beauty before she sank.”
“Is that how you got here? Did Sandy save you from drowning?”
“Well, now. That wasn’t entirely my doing,” A sweet voice filtered into the room as Sandy emerged from underwater through the porthole doorway in the floor. She pulled herself onto the ledge and slipped behind the dressing curtain dangling next to the doorway. After phasing into legs, she walked in the room and arranged a bunch of algae sprigs and sea anemones on the table.
“Ah, I was a miserable bloke before the mer, fightin’ and drinkin’ away me regrets. Me first wife died of the influenza while I was off tryin’ to conquer the sea. I couldn’t forgive meself and wanted the sea to end me pain. But Sandy here, she looked past me mean exterior and saw me hurtin’ heart. She says she only found me that day, but I know different. I saw her flirting a few other times before, but that day she became my angel. The promise does a world of good on a poor man’s bleedin’ heart, let me tell ya.”
“That it does.” She winked at me before she walked over, her glass beaded skirt tinkling as she moved. Their eyes sparkled at one another before she planted a kiss on his lips.
“You’re one fine merwoman.” He spanked her on her backside. “And look what I won ya, doll.”
“Oi, man.” Sandy slapped his hand away, flitting an embarrassed glance my way. Her cheeks were as red as the rubies. “Lovely, Badger, thank you,” she said and hurried off to the kitchen.
I looked away. This was nothing new to me. My parents did the same thing all the time.
Badger’s grin parted his beard. He cupped his hand to his mouth and leaned in. “Now listen to me. You be sure to get yerself a lass with some gold in her tail, ya hear me?”
“BairtlimÉad!” Sandy barked from the other room. “Don’t you be filling this boy with nonsense. I won’t have it in my house.”
“Oh quiet, woman! Let me talk—you stick to cookin’.”
“You better not speak to me like that! I’m not your mermaid!”
I cringed, expecting a fight to erupt when a ruckus of laughter poured from both rooms. I wrinkled my forehead, unsure what was so funny.
Badger winked. “Get it? She’s not me ‘mer’ maid? What a sense of humor she’s got.”
“Oh,” I said, then forced out a laugh. “Yeah, hilarious.”
I heard something slam shut and the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small space. She came out with the hearty loaf and a tray of cheese and butter. “Mind your manners, or only the boy is getting this treat.”
“Oh you, vixen. Where’d you manage this gift?”
“You know I have my ways.” She cast off a wicked smile. “Now sit at the table and eat.”
I didn’t dare comment.
7 - ASH
As soon as practice was over, I went directly to the dance chairman and asked to be removed from the ballot. With a puzzled expression, he informed me voting had already begun. My time to decline needed to have happened when nominations took place in homeroom earlier in the week.
I’d been late to class Monday. Georgia insisted we talk to Coach Madsen after practice because someone stole her swimsuit out of her locker over the weekend—which she later found at home. The vote must have taken place then.
Colorful signs requesting support for Brooke and other candidates littered the halls and mocked me as I left his office. Whoever nominated me had played the worst joke ever and when I found out who, they’d get a piece of my mind. Even still, I wasn’t attending.
Shivering from my wet hair, I jumped into Mom’s car in the student parking lot and cranked on the heater. Work duties prevented her from picking me up as usual.
I zipped through town, anxious to talk to Tatchi. With a screech, I parked on the pier and briskly walked across the wooden railroad ties of the dock toward the life-sized cutout of Captain Jack, Tatchi’s dad, propped next to the door. He and Fin would more than likely be on an excursion, showing tourists the bay. Oblivious of the closed sign, I yanked on the locked door with the wrath of a woman scorned, and hurt my arm.
“What?” I mumbled as I looked through the plate-glass window into a darkened interior. “Where are they?”
Confused, I knocked hard against the glass, but there was no answer.
“Mom?” I asked, while walking into Gran’s shop and dropping her keys on the counter. “Did they run any charters today at Captain Jack’s?”
She looked up at me over her bifocals and took the pencil out of her mouth. “What?”
I pointed towards Captain Jack’s. “Are they closed today?”
“Ummm. Are they?” She glanced behind me. “I don’t know. Could you help me organize these?”
In a box at her feet were oodles of new T-shirts that said “Don’t messy with Tessie.” I pursed my lips. Last thing I wanted to do was fold shirts. I had to find Tatchi—quick. I’d go to her house if I had to; my life was at stake.
“I need to get home. I’ve got a lot of homework—”
“Ashlyn Frances. You can help me for fifteen minutes.”
“Fine.” I dumped my gym bag and marched over. “What do you want me to do?”
“That’s my girl. I’ll inventory the shirts and put them in piles. Tag
a price on these, then hang them on that rack by size. The leftovers go in bins over here, folded.”
Fifteen minutes, yeah, right.
“Mom, I’m only helping for a few minutes, and then I seriously have to go.”
The pencil was back in her mouth and she was counting again. With a roll of my eyes, I started on the first stack.
After thirty minutes passed, I was still hanging shirts on hangers. It took all my self-control not to rip down the papier-mchÉ plesiosaur that hung over the top of the display.
This is all your fault, you know.
She stared back at me with empty black eyes. Tessie, the biggest hoax in history, was an invented monster to trap tourists into buying the kind of crap Gran sold. The dinosaur’s picture covered everything: cups, hats, bottle openers, stuffed animals, postcards, calendars, key chains—you name it. And every week, Gran and Mom were thinking up new slogans and promotions to spin the fad. They even worked out a special “Tessie watching” charter with a free shirt if you saw the beast, which everyone did because there was a mini-golf dinosaur statue planted underwater.
Though I could have as many free T-shirts as I wanted, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one with Tessie on it. As a kid, all my clothes came from the store anyhow. But now, the only Tahoe related apparel I wore said “Keep Tahoe Blue” or something more eco friendly.
When Mom finally left the room, I piled the shirts on the rack and shoved the rest in the bin. “Done, Mom. Bye.”
The door chimed behind me, signaling my escape.
From there, I wasn’t sure what to do. Half of me wanted to walk past Tatchi’s house and the other dared not to. Either way, I was desperate to find her. Would she tell Fin later? Would he even care? Could I be so bold as to drop a hint that I wanted Fin to be my date?
My feet trekked down the rock trail and when I had to decide if I’d turn towards Tatchi’s house, I chickened out and skittered towards the beach. It was safer to check there first.
At the beach, seagulls claimed the spot where we were yesterday. I sat on a pile driver and decided to wait. The sun melted from the sky over the mountains, painting a light show of blues and golds. I didn’t know why I waited. She’d have been home by now anyway. Sunset was her curfew.