The wall unleashed a flood tide. It wasn’t a single wave, as he’d seen before, but a divided wave, phenomenally high on either side, nonexistent in the center. The waves, fifteen feet up the side walls, crawled forward. A leading ripple lifted Finn’s board several feet. Then the side waves rose even higher and rushed to join in the center, forming a white-capped plume of surging water that foamed and raced directly for Finn.
The front of his board jerked straight up. He clung to the sides as it rose like a rocket, crested, and slid down the opposite side. The rush of water nearly stripped off his suit. It hit his face so hard it forced his mouth open and he thought he might drown. He couldn’t see. He fought to hold on; the surfboard’s leash remained around his right ankle. The pool churning water, foam, and spray. Behind him, the huge wave crashed to shore.
Slowly the water calmed and, as it did, the gurgling began again. He didn’t dare paddle for land—he wouldn’t make it in time, and the next wave would carry him and throw him into the pool furniture on the beach. His only hope, as Melanie had coached, was to face forward and ride over the waves. So he turned the surfboard around and paddled furiously for the center of the pool. Just as he arrived, he heard a second ferocious belch and knew that this wave would be even bigger than the first. He pivoted the board in time to see it coming.
Not possible…it wasn’t a wave, but a wall of water peaked in the center in an inverted V. The peak aimed right for him. What had Wayne gotten him into?
He tried paddling backward. There was no way he’d make it up and over that mountain. It was going to own him. It was going to pick him up like a cork and throw him clear out of the park. He’d probably splat on the windshield of his mother’s car like a moth caught on the highway. Here, Mrs. Whitman, say hi to your son.…
The towering peak of surging spray and foam came at him as if rocket-boosted.
At that moment, when all hope seemed lost, when the peak of the wave loomed overhead, bending and licking its hungry tongue at Finn, the spikes of white foam split apart and seemed to become stationary points of what looked like a fountain. Water cascaded from the spikes of the fountain, revealing huge clumps of seaweed.
Finn back-paddled away from the thing. It wasn’t seaweed. That had been an optimistic assessment. Because it was…hair. Yards of it in massive tangles—looking like dripping vines covering an enormous stone statue. But it wasn’t stone. It was flesh. Gray flesh. Craggy, disgusting flesh chiseled into the shape of a man’s eyes, nose, and then consumed by a beard. The water poured off as the head seemed to rise from the water, followed by shoulders covered with a cape, then a massive chest and arms. The giant held a staff in his right hand, and it was only by recognizing its three golden tines pointed like arrows that Finn knew who this was. The staff was a trident, and it belonged to King Triton.
“You’re kidding me,” he muttered as he fought to turn the surfboard around to get out of this pool.
“Name yourself!” The voice was a low rumble nearly indistinguishable from the distant gurgle of water as the wave generator refilled behind the giant.
There was no escaping. Finn reversed the board and faced Triton. Why hadn’t Wayne warned him?
“Finn,” he muttered.
“Louder!”
He shouted his name.
“Full name!”
“Lawrence Finnegan Whitman.”
“State your purpose.”
“Ah…a friend sent me.” But Finn was now wondering why.
“Indeed. A friend to us all.”
King Triton knew Wayne?
“He is the keeper of the magic,” Triton said.
If you say so, Finn was thinking, but didn’t say. “Indeed!” He tried sticking to the king’s vocabulary. He wasn’t sure about the etiquette of speaking with royalty. He didn’t want to insult a guy this big.
The pool water continued to drip off the giant, but the wave pool was settling down to a violent chop as waves rebounded off the walls and spread out onto the beach area, sloshing ashore and lifting furniture into a junk pile.
“He seeks protection for you, our friend does,” said Triton.
“Ah…” Finn wasn’t sure what the king was talking about. “Protection?”
“Your voyage in my kingdom.”
Triton ruled the sea. A voyage…? The cruise! “Yes, sir.”
“Like me, the creatures in my kingdom are bigger than those in yours. Our domain is vast. Unchangeable, horizon to horizon. There is much to protect. Your people poison mine. They hunt with invisible line and nets that stretch for miles. With harpoons. Oil rigs. They make war above and below. They stretch my resources.”
That last part didn’t sound terribly kinglike. He wondered if kings read newspapers. He supposed a king did whatever a king wanted to do, though he couldn’t be certain.
“What is it you want?” Finn said.
When a giant laughed, it turned out, the ground shook—or, in this case, the pool sloshed.
“I am king. And I am old. My wants are few. You, on the other hand, Mr. Lawrence Finnegan Whitman, your needs and wants are many. You should know my agents will never be far from you and your crew. As the wise one has requested.”
“When we’re on the ship.”
“When you are anywhere within or upon my kingdom, I or my agents shall never be far away.”
“Thank you.”
“The porpoise and frigate birds will monitor your progress. When the flying fish are near, I am not far away. The code is simple: ‘Starfish wise, starfish cries.’”
“The code…” Finn said, having little idea what he meant.
“To summon my assistance. Starfish are never far away. They are the fastest way to reach me.”
“Seriously?” It just slipped out.
“You are only to summon me if it is serious. That goes without saying. But it must be spoken into water. The summons spoken in air is of no use.”
“What about the frigate birds?” Finn said. “Can’t they hear us, too?”
“You dare question my knowledge of my own kingdom? The insolence!” The king waved his trident. A wide circle of water rose around Finn and closed at the top like the peak of a teepee, trapping Finn inside.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Finn cried out.
“Speak into the water!” the king hollered. As he lowered the trident, the peak of water lowered as well, about to drown Finn.
Finn slipped his head off the board and bubbled water as he said, “Sorry! Sorry!”
The water funnel collapsed, smashing into Finn and knocking him off the board. He struggled back atop and held on for dear life.
“‘Starfish wise, starfish cries,’” the king repeated. “We will do everything in our power to assist or rescue you and your crew if summoned.”
“My friends,” Finn said.
“Our powers are not inconsiderable.”
“And what do you want in return?” Finn asked.
The giant blinked for the first time, spraying Finn with excess water.
“I mean, isn’t that the way it works?” Finn asked. “You offer protection in exchange for something?”
“You mock me?”
The waters churned as if a strong wind were blowing.
“No! I just thought…I mean…if you’re willing to protect us, well, I thought you must want something from us.”
“Indeed! It is true. It is often the way as you say.”
“Like Ursula’s necklace or something.”
“Do not mention—!”
But it was too late. Finn wished someone would tell him the rules before he messed things up. Wayne always left too much to chance. Apparently by just speaking the name of Triton’s nemesis, Ursula, Finn had done something wrong. Very wrong.
The water boiled at Triton’s tail. It bubbled and—this seemed impossible—steamed, and the random churning of the choppy waves began to take form. First the surface smoothed. Then it formed into concentric ridges, as thick and wide as the back of a
coiling sea serpent. The surfboard spun clockwise; for a moment Finn faced the guard shack, then the high wall, then the beach and the park entrance in the distance. He spun ever faster, his rotation increasing. The back of the serpent rose wider and higher; the water beneath the surfboard took the shape of a funnel. Now Finn saw what was actually happening. A hole opened beneath him and a whirlpool formed.
The king hoisted the trident and shook the hair off his wide neck.
“Away from this place!” he shouted.
Finn thought he had to be talking to him, but in the middle of being sucked down some drain, he was in no shape to reply. The whirlpool’s walls were now twelve feet high, his surfboard spinning as fast as a pinwheel in a hurricane.
“Do…something…” he mumbled, feeling green. Then he stuck his face into the water. “Help!” he gurgled.
The surfboard spun even faster.
A purple-skinned, fat-lipped ugly the size of two side-by-side tractor-trailer trucks stood on end, with jowly upper arms, rose out of the pool and faced Triton. There was nothing cartoony about her. Instead she looked like the result of an octopus breeding with a cow. Her skin wasn’t so much purple as it was translucent, revealing a tight spiderweb of veins pumping rust-colored blood on top of muscle tissue the color of eggplant. The skin looked gooey. Her face sagged and bulged and re-formed with each little movement. Her body was considerable. If you took all the Jell-O in the world and shaped it into a sand castle of the ugliest woman you could ever imagine, you’d have the second-ugliest woman ever imagined. The first was occupying a space in the pool a few yards from Triton.
These two were not strangers to one another. They were more like divorced husband and wife.
“You called?” the big blob said.
“Your presence is unwanted,” Triton said.
“But I didn’t bring you any presents,” Ursula said, twisting his words. She chuckled at her own joke, throwing three-foot waves off her belly.
Finn was now nearly at the bottom of the whirlpool spout, spinning like a propeller. Through the silver walls of water he saw squidlike creatures with the same strange translucent skin as Ursula’s. Their heads were like manatees, but with puckered fish lips and bulging eyes. Inside the fish lips, rows of razor-sharp teeth showed. They circled the whirlpool like hungry alley cats on the other side of a wobbly fence. One poked its head through the shimmering wall of water and snapped at Finn. It missed, but caught the whirling surfboard and bit off a chunk, spitting it out immediately but leaving a few teeth behind. It retreated through the wall. But others took its place, snapping at Finn and then retreating. If he fell off the board he was chum for the making.
The sides of the whirlpool began collapsing. It was going to fold in on itself, like a hole dug in wet beach sand. With Finn at the bottom. He needed a way out. Now!
He rose up onto the board, first to knees, then—tentatively—to standing. He spread his feet, his left out in front, his right perpendicular to him and behind. He leaned left. The board’s nose caught the spinning vortex and jerked hard. Finn danced to keep his balance. With the board aimed against the clockwise spinning motion, it screwed up higher, lifting off the churning floor of the whirlpool and rising with the board half inside the current, half outside. The water dropped out from under him, dumping him back to the bottom, and Finn started again, slowly getting the hang of how much board to allow in the wall. He began to rise from the depths.
“Leave or be removed!” Triton bellowed at Ursula.
“What’s a matter? Can’t a girl have some fun? Besides, it was you who called me, don’t forget.”
“The summons was unintentional and ill-advised. You are not needed, as it turns out.”
“Maybe I should determine that?” she said.
“Be gone or I will be rid of you.”
“Oh…I’m just shaking all over!” With that, she threw her hips around, disturbing the pool and disrupting the integrity of the whirlpool. Finn tumbled to the bottom, spun like a top, and then managed to scramble back aboard. He rose to his knees and started surfing again.
“I’m feeling a little…dry,” Ursula said. “How ’bout you, Tri-Tones? Could you use a refresher?” She chortled evilly. “Be my guest!”
“Do not dare!”
“All for now,” she said. “And now for all!” She laughed again.
Finn saw through the wall of the whirlpool the strange squid creatures surrounding Ursula’s slowly sinking body, obscuring it. In a burst of bubbles, everything was gone and the water was clear again.
He caught the edge of the board just right and it grabbed and spun like a top, riding up in a spiral and popping to the surface, but the whirlpool collapsed beneath him. It would have drowned him. Killed him. Triton towered above him, but his back was to Finn as he faced the wall of the dam.
“Go! I will do what I can!” Triton held the trident out before him as the dam gurgled and the wall bulged. At the same time, the thousands of gallons of water already in the pool moved in an undertow toward the dam. Finn and the board crashed into Triton’s back. It made no sense: the water moved from the dam’s wave generator to the beach, not vice versa. But Finn was clearly caught in a reverse flood of epic proportions. He slid down a mountain of water toward the suddenly dry beach.
Triton’s effort was formidable. He held the staff before him, and miraculously a kind of hole in the water formed around him. It bent and churned, not touching him above the knees. Had Finn been able to hold himself next to the king, he too would have been protected. But having been carried away he was now lying on the damp concrete of what a moment earlier had been pool bottom. He scrambled and stood, but was mesmerized by the height of the wave crest about to crush him. His legs wouldn’t move. Finally, the wave peaked.
Triton held his ground; the wave formed around him like he was standing inside a jar. He glanced back at Finn and shook his head. He was noticeably paler. Weaker.
“I must go,” he said.
Finn nodded.
The wave formed majestically—beautifully. A work of nature’s art. Blue and mighty and perfect. A mouth opening wider and wider. Finn turned to run.
Amanda stood at what would have been the edge of the beach. She had been following him. She had been protecting him.
“Hurry!” she said. “Grab hold of my waist!”
Finn knew the power she contained in her arms. He’d watched as she levitated both creatures and people. He didn’t understand where such things came from—wouldn’t have believed them real if he hadn’t seen them with his own eyes. He knew there were skeptics. It wasn’t his mission to convert them. The Fairlies were real. Amanda and Jess were Fairlies. They couldn’t change themselves. Nor should they want to. He grabbed her around the waist and held tightly, knowing what she had in mind.
Triton was gone.
The wave rushed toward them.
Amanda threw out her arms. He felt her body go rigid, felt a kind of pulse flowing from her feet to his arms. He’d never held her like this before. Never this tightly. Never with so much determination and appreciation and confidence in her.
The wave formed, sucking water up into its crest that rolled out like a tuft of white hair. The floor of the pool was now only a few inches deep as every drop of water was summoned into the thirty-foot wave. It grew so high, so quickly, that it once again jumped the walls of the pool, contained now by the towering rock walls of the dam. Two tiny figures stood facing it, one with her arms stretched out.
The wave reached its peak, its mass exceeding its surface tension. It tumbled forward like a building collapsing. It came to kill.
And then it stopped, as if hitting a brick wall. The force of all that water leaning—leaning—out over Amanda and Finn. A lot of water splashed to the pool floor, but the wave itself held.
“Amanda?” Finn whispered into her ear.
He could feel her distance, her removal from her body. She was locked, rock hard, as if in a trance. Her arms trembled as jolts of ener
gy moved through her. Amanda was holding back the wave.
“Don’t let go,” she said in a voice he hadn’t heard her use before. Darker. Lower. Guttural. “Guide me back toward the gate.”
She was weaker, he realized. The effort was draining her.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Holding tightly around her waist, he took a step back, pulling Amanda with him. Was he dreaming, or did the entire wave move a few feet as they did? He took another step.
The wave advanced with them. For each step Finn took, the wave took the same step. He realized whatever force Amanda possessed, whatever accounted for the halting wave, was at its limit. She could exert no more pressure against it. He wasn’t a genius when it came to math, but it occurred to him that no matter how far they backed up, the wave was going to move with them. There was no escaping it.
“Amanda?”
“A little busy here,” she said.
“It’s just that it’s…moving.”
“Yeah…I know.” They took another step back. The wave lurched forward. But something had changed. Its splashing crest was slightly lower. The more they retreated, the lower it went.
“We’re winning,” Finn said, not knowing exactly what he meant. He moved her back more quickly.
“I can’t hold it,” she said. In fact, her arms were trembling, her strength waning. The wave had changed positions, now leaning like a shelf directly overhead. If it collapsed…
“I can!” came the thundering voice of Triton, his face appearing inside the huge wave. “Go! Quickly!”
Finn kicked away some of the tangled pool furniture, making a path for them. But they still had to clear Castaway Creek and get through the gate to reach Finn’s mom.
He nudged a clear tire tube aside. Then a double tube. Then some armchairs and a lounge chair. More and more water spilled from the crown of the wave thirty feet overhead. Amanda could no longer contain it.
The gate was impossibly far away. Then he spotted the solution.
“I’ve got a plan,” he said.
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