The Clamshell Show

by Lucy Courtenay

  Marnie was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

  “Don’t you think Orla Finnegan is a perfect storm sprite?” Gilly asked with a giggle. “She looks mean enough to curdle seawater. But you’re way too pretty to be a storm sprite, Marnie.” Gilly patted her own golden curls. “If there were two Queen Marettas, you would definitely be the other one. It’s a shame that it’s only going to be me getting all the attention.”

  Marnie didn’t know whether to smile or not. This was all very confusing.

  “And thank Neptune that Pearl Cockle is only in the orchestra.” Gilly burst out laughing. “I know she’s your friend, but really! Her face would frighten off the storm sprites before the show even started.”

  Marnie didn’t join in with Gilly’s laughter. She realized then and there that she didn’t want to go to Radio SeaWave with Gilly at all. Orla and Pearl were right: Gilly Seaflower was mean.

  “Gilly,” she began. “I don’t think. . .”

  But Gilly wasn’t listening. She dragged Marnie toward a bored-looking merboy with flowing blond hair, who was waiting outside the Assembly Cave entrance with his arms crossed.

  “Jet!” Gilly squealed. “You came! This is Marnie. She’s going to introduce us to Christabel Blue.”

  Jet Seaflower looked at Marnie like she was a lump of seahorse poop. “Cool,” he said.

  Gilly was still holding Marnie’s hand. “Radio SeaWave is this way, isn’t it? This is going to be so much fun!”

  Marnie didn’t want to do this. Not at all. But she couldn’t figure out how to get away. Gilly held her hand firmly. Almost as if she knew Marnie might try to escape.

  Marnie worried the whole way to the Radio SeaWave studio. What was Aunt Christabel going to say when she showed up with Gilly and Jet? Her aunt didn’t like people dropping by without an invitation. She was working. And she really didn’t like show-offs.

  “So I’m going to ask for loads of sparkles all over both my dresses,” Gilly trilled, fluffing out her hair as they swam along the coral reef. “And I’m going to ask for two more songs because five solos isn’t enough. How many are you going to ask for?”

  “Dunno,” said Jet. “The same I guess.”

  Gilly gasped with excitement at the driftwood sign hanging beside a dark opening in a nearby rock: RADIO SEAWAVE THIS WAY. She seized Jet’s hand and swam inside without waiting for Marnie. Marnie followed them anxiously, through the rocky tunnel and into the studio.

  Sam was working on the Radio SeaWave sound system with a pair of shell headphones clamped over his ears and his green-bearded chin resting on his hand. Orla’s sister Sheela, the studio assistant, was polishing the window of the recording booth. Aunt Christabel herself was sitting at the long driftwood table that ran down one side of the studio, a shell pen in her hand. They all stared at the new arrivals in surprise.

  “Is this it?” Gilly said, gazing around the studio. She was obviously disappointed. “It’s really small. You don’t even have any windows.”

  Christabel rose from the table. Garbo tumbled off her lap and opened her golden mouth in an O of annoyance.

  “And who are you?” Christabel asked.

  “Oh, Marnie invited us,” said Gilly. “I’m Gilly, and that’s my brother Jet. You haven’t heard of us yet, but we’re going to be famous. We’ll come on your show if you want. We’ve got the lead parts in the Clamshell Show. You could do an interview with us. I’m going to be Queen Maretta and my brother will be Prince Cobalt.”

  Christabel gave Marnie a sympathetic look. She knew how much Marnie had wanted the part.

  “Where’s your VIM area?” Jet asked, looking around.

  “VIM?” repeated Christabel.

  Jet smoothed back his golden hair. “Very Important Merpeople. Obviously.”

  Marnie’s face heated up with embarrassment. She gave her aunt a pleading look. This isn’t my fault, she wanted to say. They invited themselves.

  Aunt Christabel shot Marnie a wink. I understand, she seemed to say.

  “Well,” she said aloud. “We’re very honored to have two budding stars in our humble studio. I’m Christabel. This is Sam, our sound engineer, and Sheela, our studio assistant.”

  Sam nodded. Sheela waved her polishing sponge. Gilly ignored them both.

  “What’s it like, being famous?” she asked Christabel eagerly.

  Christabel’s eyes glinted. “Hard work.”

  Gilly looked like she couldn’t believe it. Jet laughed as if Christabel had said something stupid. Marnie squirmed hopelessly in the corner.

  “Success isn’t just about talent,” said Christabel calmly. “It’s about learning your craft. It’s about teamwork, and sharing the credit. No one succeeds alone.”

  “Maybe you just don’t have as much talent as us, then,” Jet suggested, “if you need to rely on anyone else.”

  That was so incredibly rude that Marnie wanted to melt away on the spot. Sheela’s mouth fell open and Aunt Christabel looked stunned.

  Marnie fixed her eyes on the table so she didn’t have to look at Gilly or Jet for one more second and saw that Aunt Christabel had been in the middle of writing a letter.

  She didn’t read more because Christabel was ushering Gilly and Jet toward the door. “It’s been lovely to meet you both,” Christabel was saying. “Do come again.”

  “You can contact our agent when we get one,” said Gilly, fluffing up her cloudy curls. “After the Clamshell Show, we’re going to be in high demand.”

  “You really should have a VIM area,” Jet said.

  Marnie was feeling embarrassed AND confused now. Dearest Arthur, you know it’s impossible . . .

  Aunt Christabel DID know someone named Arthur. And she called him Dearest. What was impossible? Perhaps Pearl had been right about this tragic true love thing after all.

  “Well, that was fun,” said Sheela sarcastically as Gilly and Jet swam away without even saying goodbye.

  “I’m really sorry, Aunt Christabel,” Marnie said. “It just sort of . . . happened.”

  Christabel’s smile had something sharklike about it. “Don’t be sorry, darling,” she said. “I’m very interested to find out what happens to those two charming individuals. What a shame Miss Tangle gave that girl the part you wanted.”

  “I told you Gilly was awful,” Orla said triumphantly the next day, as Marnie, Orla, and Pearl swam through the lagoon together. Brightly colored fish darted around them in the deep blue water. “I heard about what happened at Radio SeaWave from my sister last night. Sheela went on and on about how rude they were. Did Gilly’s brother really say that he was more talented than Christabel?”

  “Stay together, everyone!” Miss Tangle called, swimming at the head of the group. “Not far to Clamshell Grotto now!”

  Marnie was desperate to talk to Pearl about the letter she’d seen on Aunt Christabel’s table. But Pearl was fish-spotting, and she couldn’t get her attention.

  “I’ve never been to Clamshell Grotto,” said Orla. “Is it as pretty as everyone says?”

  Christabel had performed on the Clamshell Stage a few times, and Marnie and her mom had been in the audience. Just thinking about Mermaid Lagoon’s most famous venue gave Marnie barnacle-bumps all over her skin.

  “It’s amazing! The stage is a huge sparkly clamshell, and the coral on the walls is every color you can think of,” she said.

  “Good thing I took my allergy pills this morning,” Pearl chipped in. “Coral always makes me sneeze.”

  “The pearl-string curtains make this incredible tinkling sound when they lift them,” Marnie went on. “And there are inlaid-shell seating boxes all around the sides so that everyone has a perfect view.”

  “A perfect view of Gilly Seaflower would be upside down in the school sea-cucumber patch,” Orla said.

  Marnie couldn’t help laughing.

  “Here we are!” Miss Tangle twittered. “Come along!”

  Orla’s jaw dropped. Pearl stopped counting striped blennies. T
his part of the lagoon was deep and the light was dim, but the Clamshell Grotto was unmissable. It was completely covered with colonies of phosphorescent fish, and glowed like a great underwater moon.

  Inside, everything was even bigger and sparklier than Marnie remembered. The rock-crystal chandelier overhead dazzled with thousands of little fish, scattering silver spots of light around the walls. The seats in the stalls were lined with pale sea moss. The pearls in the curtains shimmered.

  “Look,” said Finnula Gritt. “Merboys!”

  Several Atoll Academy merboys were sitting in the orchestra pit. A few others were messing around on the stage, daring each other to swim up to the huge rock-crystal chandelier.

  “Come, come! Singers, on the stage!” called Miss Tangle, clapping all her arms together. “Orchestra players, in the pit! We have a lot to do today!”

  Pearl stared at a looping stone structure that twisted up the multicolored coral walls. It wound among the shell-patterned seating boxes, and spiralled around one of the rocky columns that held up the roof, and opened its big stone mouth in the gloom high above the chandelier.

  “Leaping lobsters,” she said. “Is that the rock tuba?”

  “I think it’s the largest rock tuba in the world,” said Marnie, squinting at it.

  “No squidding,” said Orla.

  Miss Tangle zoomed toward the coral conductor’s stand in a swirl of tentacles and tapped it with five or six batons. “Orchestra, take your seats! Storm sprites, stage left!”

  The fish around the rock-crystal chandelier raced away to hide in their holes, dimming the lights. Pearl headed to the rock tuba. The mermaids and merboys in the Seaharmonic Orchestra tuned their instruments, and Orla and Marnie took up their positions on the stage with the other storm sprites.

  “Hi,” said a cheery-looking merboy with a deep brown tail. “I’m Eddy. Are you storm sprites too?”

  “Yes,” said Marnie shyly.

  Eddy grinned. “Nice to meet you. It’s more fun being the bad guys, don’t you think? I tried out for Prince Cobalt, practiced for hours, but Jet Seaflower got it.”

  “We tried out for Queen Maretta,” said Marnie.

  “Don’t tell me,” said Eddy. “Jet’s sister got the part?”

  Orla and Marnie nodded. “I’m just the BEST singer in the WHOLE of Mermaid Lagoon,” Eddy said, in a perfect imitation of Jet’s bored voice. “And my sister is SO talented.”

  Marnie gave a startled giggle. She liked Eddy. “I’m Marnie and that’s Orla,” she said. Orla gave Eddy a wave. “Our friend Pearl is playing the rock tuba.”

  Eddy looked impressed. “My friend Algie is in the orchestra too. He plays the razor-clam flute.”

  Miss Tangle would be pleased, Marnie thought. She stared at the boy holding the unusual-looking flute down in the orchestra pit. Algie looked a bit like Pearl, with his swirling red hair.

  “Queen Maretta?” shouted Miss Tangle over the noise of tuning clarinets, violins, and bladder-wrack bagpipes. “Where is my Queen Maretta?”

  Gilly and Jet were nowhere to be seen.

  “Maybe Gilly IS upside down in the sea-cucumber patch,” said Orla.

  Eddy looked interested. “Why? Did you put her there?”

  “I wish,” said Orla.

  Miss Tangle looked at the huge starfish clock that clung above the door. “Well, we can’t wait,” she said, clearly annoyed. “Before we begin, there are just a few things we need to go over. There is only one exit in Clamshell Grotto. If there is an earthquake, a hurricane, or a typhoon, everyone is doomed. Any questions?”

  The merpeople looked at each other a little anxiously. That didn’t sound good.

  Miss Tangle suddenly laughed. “Only joking!” she said. “There is another way out. But it’s only ever used in the face of absolute and total disaster, or discovery by humans. Lady Sealia did tell me . . . What was it now? I’d forget my suckers if they weren’t part of my tentacles—”

  The doors flew open.

  “We’re here!” trilled Gilly Seaflower, sweeping into the auditorium with Jet behind her.

  Miss Tangle sighed with relief. “At last! Come on, quickly now! Seaharmonic Orchestra? Take it from the top, middle, and bottom!”

  The vibrations of the rock tuba shuddered through Marnie’s scales. That was the storm sprites’ cue. For about the tenth time that morning, she, Orla, Eddy, and the others swam onto the stage.

  “Your scariest expressions now!” Miss Tangle cried. “I want to see ugly faces!”

  Marnie pulled her best evil storm sprite face. She sang the angry, stomping words with the others. It was starting to come together now.

  “WE are the storm sprites,

  WE like to start fights,

  WE stir the waves, OH!

  WE drive the wind, OH!”

  “Scarier!” shouted Miss Tangle. The rock tuba boomed. The bladder-wrack bagpipes blasted. “You’re the villains! Be villainous!”

  Eddy was right, Marnie thought as she scowled and punched the water with her fists in time with the others. Playing the bad guys is kind of fun.

  “WE are the storm sprites,” she sang, over and over again.

  “WE like to WIN fights!

  WE storm the shore, OH!

  WE fight some more, OH!”

  “OW!” shouted Orla as Lupita hit her by mistake.

  “OH!” sang the storm sprites.

  “OOH!” shouted Lupita as Orla hit her back.

  Miss Tangle waved her batons. The orchestra fizzled out. “Chorus and orchestra, take a break,” she said breathlessly. “Coral clarinets and razor-clam flute? Stay please. Gilly and Jet, on the stage now!”

  Marnie swam over to join Pearl beside the rock tuba.

  “I wish I could try out these low buttons,” Pearl said wistfully, stroking a row of fat limpets on the tuba’s stone coils. “But I don’t want to knock everything down.”

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” Marnie blurted.

  “What?” asked Pearl, her eyes lighting up.

  “It’s about Aunt Christabel,” said Marnie. “She was writing a letter yesterday, to ‘Dearest Arthur.’ I think you’re right. She might have a true love!”

  Pearl clapped her hands. “I knew it! What else did the letter say?”

  Marnie screwed up her face, trying to remember. “‘You know it’s impossible,’” she said.

  Pearl looked surprised. “It’s not impossible. You just tell me.”

  “No.” Marnie shook her head. “That’s what the letter said. “‘You know it’s impossible.’”

  “You know what’s impossible?”

  Marnie had been wondering the same thing. “Being together?” she guessed.

  “Do hurry up, Gilly!” Miss Tangle called. “We don’t have all day.”

  Marnie and Pearl looked over at the stage.

  “Just a minute!” Gilly was giggling about something with Jet in the auditorium. “Jet’s telling me this REALLY funny story and—”

  The octopus looked at Gilly and Jet over the top of her spectacles. “Now!”

  Gilly tossed her golden curls but swam on to the stage. Jet followed.

  “That’s better,” said Miss Tangle. “Let’s take a look at ‘Over the Water.’”

  “Which one’s that?” asked Jet.

  Miss Tangle blinked. “The big song before Queen Maretta goes to war.”

  Jet scratched his head. “I’ll probably recognize it when it starts.”

  Miss Tangle looked like she was going to say something. Then she sighed and lifted her batons. The coral clarinets played softly. Eddy’s friend Algie’s flute floated over the top. Marnie felt her stomach melt. The melody was so gorgeous and sweet. She wished with all her heart that she was the one singing it.

  Twirling dreamily in the middle of the stage, Gilly missed her cue.

  “Concentrate, Gilly!” cried Miss Tangle.

  Gilly stopped twirling and folded her arms. “I don’t know why we have to rehearse this. I kn
ow it already.”

  “When’s my solo?” said Jet, who had swum up to admire his reflection in the glimmering rock-crystal chandelier.

  Pearl leaned toward Marnie when Jet and Gilly eventually finished rehearsing the song. “They’re pretty annoying, aren’t they? You’d have been a much better Queen Maretta.”

  Marnie smiled. “Thanks, Pearl.”

  “But, Marnie, you have to ask your aunt who Arthur is,” Pearl added.

  “I can’t,” Marnie said. “It’s private.”

  “Then we’ll never know,” said Pearl, with a dramatic sigh.

  “Those selfish Seaflowers are getting Miss Tangle’s tentacles in a twist,” said Orla, swimming over with Eddy and his friend Algie. “I knew she should have chosen one of us. What are you talking about, anyway?”

  “Christabel Blue’s true love,” said Pearl.

  “Shhhhh! I said it was private, Pearl,” said Marnie hastily. “I don’t think we should tell everyone.”

  “I’m not everyone,” said Orla, looking offended. “And neither are Eddy and Algie.”

  “Hi,” said Eddy. Algie waved.

  Marnie sighed. “Fine. Pearl and I have found out that my aunt Christabel might have a true love named Arthur, but it’s impossible for them to be together.”

  “Nothing’s impossible,” said Orla.

  “It’s impossible for a yellow-headed jawfish to eat when it’s brooding eggs,” said Algie.

  Pearl looked interested. “Why?”

  “Because it broods its eggs in its mouth,” Algie explained.

  Algie and Pearl chatted about fish while Orla braided her hair with a long piece of golden seaweed she had found. Marnie leaned against the coils of the rock tuba and hummed along to Jet and Gilly rehearsing their last big number “Always Be Friends.” Christabel had sung “Always Be Friends” to Marnie when she was very young, and it was one of Marnie’s favorites. Gilly’s voice was really strong and clear, and Jet matched his sister perfectly note for note. The only problem was, they kept getting the words wrong.

  “Oh dear,” moaned Miss Tangle as Jet sang the wrong verse for the fourth time. “Perhaps we should leave that for now. Please practice it at home. But now, let’s work on the dance moves for the grand finale instead. Chorus, back onstage please!”