Sink or Swim

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Lost her voice!

  Lost her underwater kingdom! Will she ever even see her family again?

  Is marrying a guy who only likes her for her legs!

  Even though she seems happy, I can’t help feeling sad.

  The prince takes Lana’s hand. “We’ll get married immediately. Three days from now. We’ll do it in the ballroom, of course.”

  Of course? I had so expected him to stay on the beach.

  Lana follows him into the palace. For someone who just got legs, she looks very glamorous as she walks.

  “See?” Jonah says, running up to me, covered in sand. “It all worked out.”

  “Not all of it,” I say. I can’t shake the sad feeling.

  “So now what?”

  “I guess we go home.”

  “Already?” He looks longingly at the water. “Don’t you think we should stay a few more days? Just until the wedding? That way we can make sure Lana gets married and has her happy ending. What time is it at home?”

  I glance at my watch. “Three A.M.”

  “Great!” he cheers. “Then we have four hours until Mom and Dad wake us up. Which is four days. I’m going kayaking.”

  I grab his arm before he runs away. “We need to look for the portal!”

  “We will, we will,” he says. “How about we split up?

  “All right,” I say. “That sounds reasonable.”

  He scrunches his nose. “You go check the furniture,” he says.

  “We already checked the mirrors. I guess I can check the tables and chairs. What are you checking?” I’m glad he’s finally willing to do some work.

  As he runs toward the beach, he calls over his shoulder, “I’m going to check all the kayaks!”

  I walked right into that one.

  The next day, we’re in the dining room having tea and discussing wedding details.

  Chef Carolyn can’t stop staring at Lana. “She’s really a mermaid?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “She was, but she gave it up,” I explain.

  “I wish she could talk! I have so many questions!”

  The prince clears his throat. “Back to the menu,” he says. “Chef Carolyn, I’d like you to prepare sole, tilapia, and yellowfin tuna. Fish, in honor of my little mermaid!”

  Lana’s eyes widen to the size of her teacup.

  “What’s wrong, my pet?” Prince Mortimer asks, patting her knee. “You don’t like tuna?”

  She shakes her head frantically.

  “What about sole?”

  More head shaking.

  “Then what would you like to serve?” he asks.

  She shakes her head no, and then makes a weird squiggly motion with her hands.

  “She doesn’t want fish. She must want lobster. Perfect!” He kisses her on the forehead, gets up, and leaves the room.

  Lana’s eyes fill with tears.

  “Did you not want lobster?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “Wait, I’m confused,” Jonah says. “You did want lobster or you didn’t?”

  She shakes her head again.

  “Which one?”

  Lana drops her head down on the table and sighs.

  What can I say? It’s tough to talk without a voice.

  Since they got engaged, the prince and Lana don’t seem to understand each other at all. Lana does a lot of nodding and shaking her head, but it’s tough to answer questions like: What do you want to serve for dinner? You can’t answer that with a nod or a head shake.

  Vivian hurries into the living room clutching a paper card. “Look,” she calls out. “The calligrapher just finished the wedding invitations. Don’t they look nice?” She places one in Lana’s hands. “I’ll send one to your family.”

  Lana shakes her head. I notice that her eyes fill with tears but that she blinks them away.

  “You’re not inviting your dad?” I ask, shocked.

  She shakes her head again.

  Communicating would be so much easier if mermaids knew how to read and write.

  “What about your sisters?” I ask. “Aren’t they going to be your bridesmaids?”

  She points to me.

  “Me?” I ask. “You want me to be your bridesmaid?”

  She nods.

  Wow! I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. But I’ve always, always, ALWAYS wanted to! The dress! The bouquet! I don’t know what else bridesmaids do, but I’m sure it’s fun.

  “I accept!” I cheer. “I’m going to be an amazing bridesmaid. The best bridesmaid ever. But wait — if I’m the only bridesmaid, does that make me the maid of honor?”

  Lana nods.

  This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Besides falling into fairy tales through my magical mirror, obviously.

  I am going to be the Little Mermaid’s maid of honor! Who else can say that? No one! Only me! “But are you sure you don’t want to ask your sisters?”

  She shakes her head and looks down at the invitation.

  “Read it out loud!” Jonah says.

  I shoot him a look across the table.

  He blushes. “Oh, right. I keep forgetting you can’t talk.”

  “She can’t read, either,” I say. A lightbulb goes off in my head. “I have an idea! An idea that’s going to fix everything. Okay, not everything, but definitely your communication problems.”

  Lana looks up at me eagerly.

  I wait for Jonah to make a drum roll or something, but when none comes I turn to Lana and announce, “I’m going to teach you to write! If you can write, then you’ll be able to communicate with Prince Mortimer. And with everyone. Then you won’t be so frustrated. When anyone asks you a question you can just write the answer down!”

  “Great idea, Abby,” Jonah says. “I think I’ll go play tennis while you do that. Russell is having his tutoring lessons now, but maybe I can get him to sneak away.”

  I sigh.

  Lana points to the invitation.

  I don’t understand what she wants. “You want me to read it to you?”

  She shakes her head no. She nods. She shakes her head no again. She points to herself and then her eyes and then the invitation.

  “I think she wants you to teach her to read, too,” Jonah says.

  “Of course! Reading and writing go hand in hand.” I square my shoulders. “Just call me Professor Abby.” All I need now is a pair of eyeglasses and a blazer. Oh, and pencils. And paper. “Jonah, before you disappear for the day, please find me some paper and pencils.”

  Jonah hurries off. When he comes back with paper and different-colored pencils, I spread them all out on the table.

  Pencils, check! Paper, check!

  Now what? I’ve never actually taught anyone to read before. Where do I start?

  “Okay, bye!” Jonah calls.

  “Wait! Jonah. You just learned to read, right?”

  “Right,” he says. “This year.”

  “Can you, um, tell me how to start?”

  He fidgets with the door. “How about with A?”

  I nod. “So we’ll go through all the letters, and I’ll teach Lana the sounds. Thanks. You can go now.”

  Jonah bolts out the door.

  I write a capital A. No need to confuse her with small letters yet. “A makes an ‘ahhhh’ sound. Ahhh!” I overemphasize. “Also, sometimes ‘ay.’ A is for … ‘Abby’! That’s me. A is also for ‘at’ and ‘animal.’ Why don’t I write it down and then you copy it?”

  I write a big A, and then she copies it ten times.

  I smile. “A is for ‘awesome.’ Now let’s do B. Do you know what B is for?”

  She shakes her head.

  “B is for ‘brother,’” I say. “And ‘ballroom.’ And best of all, ‘bridesmaid.’”

  Lana is a fast learner. By the end of the day, she knows the whole alphabet. By the day before the wedding, she can pretty much read and write.

  It helps that we recruit Russell’s tutor. I’ll admit it: I’m no reading and
writing expert. But it was all my idea, so I’m taking credit for it anyway, thank you very much.

  Lana decides not to tell Prince Mortimer what she’s up to. She wants it to be a surprise. Since he’s always outside surfing, canoeing, or windsurfing, it hasn’t been much of a problem.

  When Lana takes breaks, we are very busy with wedding prep. We go to dress fittings with the palace tailor. Lana’s dress is the perfect bride’s dress — white, strapless, and fitted on top, with a big, poofy skirt. My maid-of-honor dress has capped sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, and a short skirt. It’s pretty gorgeous — and yellow, of course.

  Also, as maid of honor, it is my job to help Lana prepare for her big march down the aisle. I make her practice walking. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe. I read a book about a model once, and that’s how she was told to walk down the catwalk. I’m guessing it’s the same for a wedding.

  I even practice my own walking — as maid of honor I have to make sure not to trip.

  Being maid of honor is pretty important, you know. And time-consuming.

  My job is to keep Lana happy and worry-free all day. Also to get an updo, manicure, and pedicure on the morning of the wedding. Yup, the bride and the maid of honor both get their hair and nails done! I’ve never had an updo, manicure, or pedicure, so I’m psyched.

  Now, the day before the wedding, while Lana studies with Russell’s tutor, I try and find the portal home. I knock on everything I see. Bedposts. Bowls. Stairs. Nothing works.

  Jonah is supposed to be helping, but he’s too busy vacationing.

  “Can you please help me?” I ask him, finding him doing handstands in the pool.

  “Abby, I’m sure it will be something at the wedding. The portal usually pops up at the end of our adventure.”

  “Jonah, of course it pops up at the end of our adventure! Once we find it, we leave!”

  “Not true,” he says, floating on his back. “We wait until the happy ending is all straightened out, and then we leave. The happy ending here isn’t all straightened out yet.”

  “It practically is,” I tell him.

  “Then I’m sure we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he says. “Why don’t you come swimming?”

  “Just because you’re taking a break doesn’t mean I can,” I huff. Although it is very hot. And the pool does look very refreshing. But also deep. Anyway, I have other things to do.

  I leave my brother to feel guilty in the pool while I go check on Lana.

  She’s scribbling on a piece of paper. She’s writing! My plan totally worked!

  “What are you writing?” I ask.

  She takes a clean piece of paper and writes, “RITING PRESINT FOR PRINS.”

  Okay, so she’s not the best speller yet, but come on. Two days ago she didn’t even know that her name started with the letter L. Give her a break.

  “Cool,” I say.

  She nods. Her cheeks are flushed with happiness.

  “What is it?”

  She points her pencil at her notebook.

  It says:

  “ONCE UPON A TIME THER WAS A MERMAD PRINCES. ON HER 15 BIRTHDA SHE SAW A PRINS FAL IN THE WATER —”

  “Oh!” I squeal. “It’s the story of how you met!”

  She nods.

  “He’s going to be so impressed,” I say. “Wait, Lana, I want to ask you a question. How come you don’t want to invite your family to the wedding?”

  She sighs. She pulls out a fresh piece of paper and writes, “THEY CANT COM ON LAND. AND THEY MUST BE VERE MAD AT ME. AND NOT FEEL LIKE CELEBRATING.”

  “Are you sure? We could send them the invite — you never know what they might say.”

  “NO,” she writes. “THEY CANT REED.”

  Oh, right.

  That’s so sad! She seems to think so, too, because I catch her frowning and gazing toward the window that overlooks the water.

  On the bright side: I’m still the maid of honor!

  That night we all eat together in the dining room.

  It’s a pretty delicious dinner. Chef Carolyn makes a barbeque. There are cheeseburgers and corn and grilled salami. Of course, there’s mustard. For dessert we have banana pie and lemon cake. These people really know how to eat, even if most of the food is yellow.

  During dessert, Lana stands up and hands a box to Prince Mortimer. There’s a yellow ribbon tying it closed.

  “What’s this?” he asks.

  She smiles.

  “It’s her wedding gift to you,” I explain, not wanting to give away the surprise but bursting with excitement. How amazing is she that she learned to write in two days? She’s amazing! And it was all my idea! I am the best maid of honor ever!

  Prince Mortimer unwraps the ribbon, opens the box, and takes out pretty papers laced together with ribbon. The first page reads: Our Story, by Princess Lana.

  “How nice,” the prince says before placing it beside his plate. He goes right back to his lemon cake.

  Lana looks shocked.

  I feel shocked. “Aren’t you going to read it?”

  “I’m in the middle of dessert,” he explains, taking another forkful. “Yum.”

  Lana’s face falls.

  No. No, no, no. “But don’t you see what a big deal this is? Lana wrote that! Herself! She learned to read and write so you guys can communicate!”

  Prince Mortimer takes a big gulp of pineapple juice before continuing. “What does Lana need to read and write for? She’s a princess. She just needs to smile, dance, and be beautiful.”

  I drop my fork and it clatters against my plate.

  Jonah’s jaw drops open.

  Lana gasps. She looks at Prince Mortimer and then back at me. She shakes her head. Then she pushes her chair back and runs out of the room.

  Everyone else at the table shrugs.

  “Guess she doesn’t like lemon cake,” the prince says, and continues eating. “You know what we should have at the wedding? Lemon meringue pie.”

  I can’t listen to one more minute of this. I excuse myself from the table and hurry after Lana. I do kind of hope they have lemon meringue pie at the wedding, though. I love lemon meringue pie.

  When I walk into her room, just down the hall from mine, she is pacing.

  “Sorry about that,” I say.

  Lana throws her arms up in the air. She picks up a paper and pen and writes, “I THINK I MAD A BIG MISTAK!!!”

  I think she made a big mistake, too. Which I told her from the beginning. Not that I’m going to say “I told you so” now. Even though I really want to.

  But I won’t.

  Her eyes tear up, and she continues writing:

  “I GAVE UP EVERETHING TO BE HERE. MY FAMILIE. MY HOME. MY VOICE. MY SISTERS!! MY DAD! OH MY POOR DAD.”

  “What’s wrong with your dad?” I ask. “Isn’t he the king?”

  She nods. “HE IS LONELLY SINCE MY MOM DIED 10 YEARS AGO.”

  Her poor dad. First he lost his wife, and now he pretty much lost his daughter. I sit down on her perfectly made bed. I’m impressed. She makes a good bed.

  “WHAT SHUD I DO?”

  As I glance down at the bed, I remember one of my mom’s favorite expressions. “You made your bed, and now you have to sleep in it,” I say.

  She shakes her head and then writes, “VIVIAN MADE MY BED!”

  Oh. Right. She probably made Jonah’s, too. I, on the other hand, made my own bed, thank you very much. Anyway, that’s not the point. “It’s an expression,” I say. “What I mean is, I’m not sure what you can do except get married.” And this isn’t because of the maid of honor thing. I swear. “You can’t go back to your family. You don’t have a tail. Can you swim in the ocean the way you are now?”

  She shakes her head no.

  “And, anyway, if you cancel the wedding, he’ll marry someone else. And then …” my voice trails off.

  And then.

  Although maybe the deal with the sea witch changed. It’s possible, isn’t it? Since the story has changed? “Did the sea wi
tch tell you that if the prince marries someone else you’ll … you’ll … stop living the next morning?” I can’t bear to say the word die.

  She nods.

  Crumbs.

  We can’t let that happen. No matter what.

  It’s W-day. Wedding day.

  And M-day: Maid-of-honor day.

  Also, G-day: Go-home day. Assuming we can find the portal. My watch says it’s just before six, so technically we have until tomorrow, but I don’t want to be late.

  I spend the morning in the royal salon getting ready. When they wash my hair with yummy lemon-scented shampoo and conditioner, I lean back and admire the gold chandelier above my head. Then they set my hair in curlers, and while it dries, they place my feet in a little claw-foot tub for a warm pre-pedicure foot bath.

  Ahhhh.

  Even more melty than a hot tub, if you can believe it.

  They file and paint my toes gold. Then they do the same to my fingernails.

  It’s all very glamorous. I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz when she’s getting all prettied up before she meets the wizard.

  Lana and the queen are both in the royal salon, too.

  Lana doesn’t say much. Obviously, she can’t talk. She doesn’t write much, either, though. She just stares into the distance, looking miserable.

  On the other hand, the queen doesn’t stop talking.

  “Everyone is coming,” she says. “Even the royal family of Watermelon will be here. They’re bringing their lovely daughter Alison. Lana, darling, she’s about your age and goes to school here in Mustard. I hope you two will become friends.”

  Lana just shrugs.

  A pretty princess named Alison? I can’t help but wonder if that’s the girl Prince Mortimer marries in the original story. Whatever. She’s not marrying him in this story.

  And: Watermelon? Really?

  Once my nails are dry, my hair is arranged in a very cool and elaborate updo, with gold barrettes to keep it in place. They even sprinkle in gold sparkles to make it shine. Then they get to work on my makeup.

  Makeup!

  I’ve used some of my mom’s blush before, just for fun, but I’ve never gotten my makeup done. They use pink blush! And gold eye shadow! And mascara! And pink lip gloss! By the time they’re done, I look years older. At least thirteen.