I wish my curls did that. I also wouldn’t mind a piece of gum. Especially since my toothbrush drowned with the rest of my suitcase.
“I’m fine,” the prince says. “But I need to get back to the palace.”
“Let me get help!” the girl with curly hair says, and then runs back up the path. The rest of the girls just continue to stare.
A few minutes later, she’s back with a bunch of important looking grown-ups, and soon we’re on our way to Prince Mortimer’s palace.
The hour-long carriage ride swerves us around the beautiful coast. All along the beach are small villas with big outdoor decks and docks and boats. The waves crash against the white sand. The water sparkles like emeralds. The sky is bright blue. Leafy green trees sway in the distance. It kind of looks like the pictures my parents took of their tenth anniversary trip to St. Thomas, which is an island in the Caribbean. Even though Nana came to stay with me and Jonah, we were NOT pleased about being left behind. Jonah was bummed to miss out on the Waterinn Resort’s many activities — snorkeling! swimming! kayaking! — while I was bummed that we missed out on the hot tub. Also, I love tall frosty drinks that come with tiny umbrellas, and I’m pretty sure that’s what all the drinks are like in the Caribbean.
When we arrive at the palace, there is a crowd of people waiting for us out front. At the center are the queen and king. They’re both wearing gold crowns, but they’re not dressed like a typical queen and king. Instead of robes, the king is wearing yellow shorts and a yellow-and-white flowered shirt. The queen is wearing a yellow tank dress with a gold belt, gold flip-flops, and big gold sunglasses.
These people really like yellow. Oh — it’s probably their official color, since it’s the kingdom of Mustard!
Both the king and queen have sun-bleached hair and leathery-looking skin from too many hours spent on the beach. Which is the kind of skin I don’t want to have when I’m older. Which is why I always wear sunscreen.
Except for now. Because I didn’t realize I’d be going to a beach.
After grabbing the prince in a bear hug, the king turns to us. “Dudes! We are so grateful that you saved our son,” he says.
Dudes? I’m not a dude. “It wasn’t just us,” I say. “A mermaid brought him to shore.”
The king laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say. We’re just grateful that he’s okay. After he disappeared off the ship we assumed the worst.”
“You’ll be our guest for a few days, won’t you, darlings?” the queen asks, not letting go of her son’s hand.
“Sure!” Jonah exclaims, gesturing toward the tennis courts to the left of the palace and the volleyball court to the right. “It’s awesome here.”
He’s not wrong.
The palace is amazing. All windows and marble. Yellowish marble. These people take the name of their kingdom seriously.
“Darlings, would you like something to drink?” the queen asks. “Maybe a banana smoothie?”
We nod. That definitely sounds tall and frosty. A minute later a tall, icy yellow drink — with a teeny, tiny yellow umbrella — is plunked into my hand. Hurray!
I slurp it down in twenty seconds. Yum.
Jonah nudges me. “Not bad, eh, darling?”
I laugh. “Pretty good, dude, pretty good.”
A maid named Vivian leads us inside the palace. She’s about my mom’s age, and her brown hair is tied back in a tight bun. She’s wearing a perfectly pressed yellow uniform.
Inside the palace, there are yellow flowers everywhere. The rooms are decked out with gold chandeliers and ginormous paintings. Paintings of the ocean, of the king and queen, of the prince, and of other people in crowns.
Vivian leads us upstairs. She opens the door to my room. And by room, I mean suite. Huge, gorgeous suite.
It’s the size of the entire top floor of my house in Smithville. In the middle is a king-sized yellow canopy bed. The room even has a balcony that overlooks the water. From the window I can also see a pool. And a mini-golf course. And a baseball diamond. And a hot tub.
Yes. A hot tub.
Forget the Waterinn — this might be the best hotel ever. Except it’s not a hotel. It’s Prince Mortimer’s house. Our house for the next few days.
Jonah’s room is right next door. There’s a door between our rooms that connects us if we want to be connected.
“You can unpack here,” Vivian says, motioning to a chest of drawers.
“Thanks,” I say. “But we lost our luggage. I don’t have anything to unpack.”
Speaking of stuff in my suitcase, now that I think about it, I bet the reason Maryrose let us in the mirror right away was because I had packed a bathing suit. It’s a must-have piece of clothing for this fairy tale. She must not be very happy that I let my suitcase vanish in the ocean.
“Nothing to unpack?” Vivian echoes. “I’ll ring for the royal tailor at once! You absolutely need something for the prince’s welcome-home party tonight!”
I can’t help but think about that fairy tale, The Emperor’s New Clothes. Wasn’t there a fake tailor who pretended to sew all these new outfits for the emperor, but the emperor was really walking around naked? Hopefully this tailor will make me actual clothes.
A few minutes later, the royal tailor knocks on my door to take my measurements. Then he takes Jonah’s and hurries away to get to work.
“In the meantime, get in the hot tub and relax,” Vivian orders. “I’ll bring you an extra swimsuit.”
Okay. If she insists.
I slip on the suit — it’s yellow with gold, red, and green polka dots — and make my way outside in a plush yellow robe and matching slippers.
The hot tub overlooks the ocean. I dip my big toe in first. Ahhh. Hot and delicious.
As I sink under the steaming water, I think, I could get used to this.
After Jonah — in new yellow swim trunks — joins me for a bit, we both return to our rooms to get ready.
My closet is now filled with outfits. Real ones — nothing invisible here. There’s a beautiful long, flowy yellow dress with a beaded top and a silky skirt. There’s also a simpler cotton yellow sundress. Two yellow nighties. A few pairs of yellow undies. I’m going to look very sunny. Good thing they also gave me a new pair of red sunglasses.
I put on the fancy dress and step out onto my balcony, calling to Jonah to meet me outside.
Jonah steps onto his balcony, which is connected to mine with a short divider between them. He’s wearing new yellow pants, a striped yellow-and-white collared shirt, and a massive smile. “I love it here,” he says. “This is the best vacation ever!”
“It’s not a vacation,” I remind him. But honestly — it does kind of feel like a vacation. The view from here is incredible — blue, blue water that goes on forever. Even though it’s warm and sunny, the ocean breeze is gentle and amazing. But still. “We have a job to do. We really have to find the Little Mermaid before it’s too late.” I look out into the water, hoping for a glimpse of her. Is she swimming up the coast looking for the prince right now? Where is she?
Jonah pumps his fist in the air. “We have to stop her from dying!”
“So, here’s the plan,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “We’re going to nip this problem in the bud. We’re going to stop the Little Mermaid from making the deal with the sea witch in the first place. If she stays a mermaid, then she won’t die, even if the prince marries someone else.”
Jonah cocks his head to the side. “That’s not what I think we should do. I think we should let her make the deal with the sea witch and then help her get the prince to fall in love with her so she can live happily ever after.”
What? He can’t be serious. “Jonah,” I say, “that is the worst plan ever.”
He motions around him. “But it’s so nice here! I bet the Little Mermaid would really like it.”
I wag my finger in his face. “That is a bad plan for many reasons. First of all, it’s very risky. If the Little Mermaid visits the sea witch, then sh
e has to get the prince to marry her, or bye-bye mermaid.”
“Everything has risks,” Jonah says. “We keep going through the mirror even though we never know where we’re going to end up or if we can get home. Living on land with the prince is the Little Mermaid’s dream. We can’t tell her not to dream. Everyone has to dream big, right?”
“Of course we have to dream,” I say, annoyed. “But if you know your dream is impossible, then you give it up. You find a new dream and you make it work. You get used to it.”
He frowns. “That’s so sad.”
My brother’s just not getting it. “Jonah, we didn’t want to move to Smithville, did we?”
He shakes his head. “You didn’t want to move to Smithville.”
“Fine, I didn’t want to move to Smithville. But we did, and now we’re okay. We have friends. We have a magic mirror. It’s not so bad. You have to learn to make the best of what you have. You get what you get and you don’t get —”
He smirks. “Wet!”
“Upset,” I say. “Hmm. Maybe that’s the whole point of the original Little Mermaid story. That she should have been happy with being a mermaid. The Little Mermaid gave up her whole life — her family, her home, her tail, and even her voice — for a guy who didn’t appreciate her.”
Jonah nods. “That’s true. She even gave up her tongue.”
“Exactly. If she’d learned to be happy with what she had, she would have been much better off.” I squeeze the railing. “We have to stop the Little Mermaid from making the biggest mistake of her life.”
He nods. “You’re right.”
Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Well, not always, but usually. “Now the only issue is — how do we find her?”
“Maybe she’ll be at the party?” he asks.
“I doubt she’ll be hopping around on her tail,” I say. “But maybe someone at the party will know how to find her. Before she makes the deal with the sea witch.”
If she hasn’t made the deal already.
As we hurry down the marble stairs, I glance at my watch, which says it’s twelve fifteen at night. Huh? It doesn’t feel like it’s twelve fifteen. Oh, right, that’s the time it is back home.
I look for a clock and see that it’s six P.M. here. I guess every hour at home is a day here. We have to be back home by seven A.M., the time Mom and Dad wake us up. So we have six-and-three-quarter hours. Which means six-and-three-quarter days here. That’s tons of time to find the Little Mermaid a new happy ending and find our portal home.
As long as my watch is right. We did take a bit of a swim — I hope this watch is waterproof.
We hear the music from the ballroom and discover that the event is already in full swing. Since we’re both starving, we make a beeline for the buffet. Vivian introduces us to Carolyn, the chef, who’s setting up the plates of lobster sandwiches, mac and cheese, corn, and, of course, mustard. Lots and lots of mini bowls of mustard.
Carolyn is wearing a poofy yellow chef’s hat and a yellow apron. She’s about my nana’s age.
“Have you guys even tried ketchup?” Jonah asks Carolyn. “I think you’d like it.”
She makes a sour face. “Ketchup? Too tomato-y.”
Jonah sighs.
As we munch on the delicious food, we chat with the guests. Everyone wants to meet us, the children who saved the prince.
“It wasn’t just us!” I tell anyone who will listen. “A mermaid was the one to actually save him — we only helped with the last step.”
“A mermaid! What’s that, darlings?” asks the queen.
“A half fish, half human,” I explain.
“That’s impossible,” the queen laughs. “You two darlings have fantastic imaginations!”
“Have you ever heard of mermaids?” we ask Vivian as she folds yellow napkins. “Half fish, half human?”
“No such thing,” she snaps.
How are we going to get someone to tell us how to find the Little Mermaid if no one has ever heard of mermaids?
“Psst! Hey!”
Jonah and I turn around to see Carolyn the chef beckoning from a long hallway.
“Does she mean us?” I ask.
“I guess so,” Jonah says. “Let’s go!”
Before I can respond, Jonah has already taken off after her. And of course, I follow. I can’t let him chase kind-of strangers by himself.
“I heard your questions and I have something to show you,” Carolyn whispers.
“About mermaids?” I ask.
“Shhhh!” She opens a door that leads to a winding staircase. “Follow me.”
We take the stairs down a floor until we’re in the basement, and then we follow her into a small room.
“You should see this.” In the center of the room is a small bed covered with a yellow comforter. To the left is a dresser. She opens the bottom drawer and takes out a drawing that’s about the size of my hand.
“Look,” she says. “Careful.”
I take the drawing and realize that it’s of a woman — a woman with a fish tail.
“It’s a mermaid!” Jonah exclaims.
“It definitely is,” she says, squaring her shoulders.
“I thought no one here had ever heard of mermaids,” I say.
“They haven’t,” she says. “But I have. My mother gave this drawing to me. She used to tell me stories about the mermaids all the time.”
“Had she seen them?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “But my great-great-grandmother Edith did. She was lost at sea and a mermaid saved her. She told my great-grandmother about her mermaid friend, who told my grandmother, who told my mother, who told me. I know everything about them.”
“Tell us!” Jonah exclaims.
“They live under the water. In a beautiful kingdom. With streets and houses and restaurants and clothes and everything. The girls are called mermaids and the boys are mermen. And they all have silver tails. And —”
“That’s not true,” I interrupt. “We saw one. She didn’t have a silver tail.”
“She must have,” Carolyn huffs. “That’s what my mother told me. And what my grandmother told her. And what —”
“Did your mom say anything about how to get the mermaids to come on land?” I ask.
“They can’t,” Carolyn says. “Whenever my great-great-grandmother Edith wanted to see her friend, she had to swim into the sea. The mermaid even gave her a potion that let her breathe underwater for twelve hours.”
“Ohhhh,” Jonah’s eyes light up. “Let’s take that! Do you know how to make it?”
I shiver. I am not going underwater with or without a potion, thank you very much. There are sharks underwater. Sharks and other animals that want to eat me.
Carolyn nods. “I do know how to make it, but I can’t because one of the ingredients is mermaid spit.”
Gross.
“Find me a mermaid,” she adds, “and I’ll make you the potion.”
Vivian spots us as we return to the party.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“Just looking around,” I say.
She scowls. “I hope you’re not making a mess for me. Russell! Russell, come here!”
A boy about Jonah’s age appears at her side. His skin is suntanned and freckled. Like everyone else in Mustard, he looks like he spends a lot of quality time on the beach.
“This is my son,” Vivian explains. “He can keep you two company. Russell, why don’t you show Abby and Jonah where you play tetherball?”
“Let’s go sailing instead,” the boy says. “I think the royal boathouse is still open.”
Yes! That’s a great idea. If we’re on a boat, we’ll be able to find the Little Mermaid. We may not have an underwater potion, but that doesn’t mean we can’t search the sea.
“No boats!” Vivian snaps. “It’s almost dark out, and the sea is too rough.”
Oh well.
“I love tetherball,” Jonah says.
Russell nods. “L
et’s go!”
“I’m going to stay here,” I say. The last time I played tetherball I almost broke my nose.
Tomorrow, we’ll take out a boat. Nothing that will tip over. A rowboat maybe. Then we’ll find the Little Mermaid. How hard can it be?
First thing the next morning, Jonah and I head for the royal boathouse.
We find the yellow hut right on the beach. A suntanned guy in mirrored sunglasses is manning the booth. All around him are different kinds of boats. Windsurfers, sailboats, canoes, banana boats.
“We’d like to borrow a rowboat,” I say.
“Of course,” the royal boatman says, handing us a ledger. “Just sign one out.”
The royal boathouse seems a lot like a library.
“And two life jackets,” I add. “And do you happen to have some sort of radio? In case the boat drifts off and we need to get in touch?”
The boatman shakes his head.
“Do you have goggles?” my brother asks.
“Yup, those we got.” He reaches under the counter and hands us two pairs.
“What do we need these for?” I ask my brother.
Jonah scrunches his eyebrows as though the answer is obvious. “To look underwater for the Little Mermaid.”
“Underwater?” I ask, slightly incredulous. “Are you crazy? We’re not going in the water.”
He snorts. “How else are we going to find her?”
“With our eyes!” I exclaim. “From the boat!”
“That’s just silly,” he says, taking both pairs of goggles and dangling them from his arm. “We’ll swim around.”
My mouth gets super dry. “We’ll see,” I say, but what I really mean is NO WAY.
Jonah turns back to the boatman. “Do you have snorkels? Or scuba equipment?”
“Are those types of boats?” he asks back.
“I guess not,” Jonah says.
“You don’t know how to scuba,” I remind my brother.
My brother shrugs. “Not yet, but I wanna learn.”
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