by Liz Kessler
I stopped speaking. Partly because I’d used up my two minutes, but more because it felt like something the size of a giant rock was lodged in my throat and I couldn’t get any more words past it.
I felt a tear run out of each eye, slipping down my cheeks and mingling with the taste of the seawater as they hit my lips.
I’d played my hand. I’d given my best friend the best version of events I could. Now all I could do was wait for her response and hope, more than anything in the world, that she would believe me.
Shona didn’t say anything at first. She just kept looking at me. When she spoke, her voice was as heavy as iron.
“I don’t know if this is some kind of elaborate hoax to draw me in so you can destroy our lives even more —”
“It’s not a hoax,” I broke in. “Why would I make up something like this? Why would I want to destroy your life?”
“I’ve asked myself the same thing many times,” Shona said. “I still don’t know the answer. You tell me.”
“I can’t,” I said weakly. “I don’t know.”
Shona let out a bitter laugh. “Typical. You don’t know. It’s not your fault. Honestly, you’re all the same: Brightport Junior High, your corrupt council, greedy Midas — and you. I thought you were better. I thought you were my friend. I never thought you would let it happen.”
Shona waved a hand to indicate the state of Shiprock, the ruins it had become.
“You’re saying I did this?”
“OK, whatever. It was Midas, mainly. They killed the place when they moved into Brightport nineteen years ago with their trucks and diggers. It looked as if an army was coming into town the day they arrived. We watched together from Rainbow Rocks. Don’t you remember?”
I held my arms out in a helpless shrug. “Shona, I don’t remember any of it, because I wasn’t there. I haven’t been here. You have to believe me —”
Shona cut me off. “Save it, Emily.” She paused. Then, in a quieter voice, she went on. “I get it. Honestly, I do. I know you tried at first. I know they’re bigger than us. I know you had to make some tough calls. Just — well, I suppose I’m disappointed that the calls you made drove us apart.”
My jaw hung open. I literally didn’t know what to say.
Shona’s lank hair fell into her eyes and she wiped it away. “They lured you onto their side. All of you. First, Mandy’s family. Then you, too. Even before we’d finished school, they had you. Offering bribes to get you to leave your home behind so they could turn the pier into a massive theme park. Then the training after school. The promises, the lies, the money, the yachts.” She shook her head.
“Shona, I don’t know what you’re —”
“Even then, I thought you’d never desert us,” Shona went on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “I understood it was hard for your mom to turn them down. And I know, I know, you tried. But then you said yes to their swanky training program the minute school was finished, and from that point on I knew there’d be no turning back. You were one of them. They owned you. They bought you.”
Shona’s words weren’t making any sense. They were swimming around, getting inside my head but refusing to join together into anything I could understand.
“They made you choose,” Shona went on. “And yeah, I understand that it wasn’t much of a choice by that point. You had to live. But — I just never thought you’d abandon us.”
“I . . . I can’t believe I would either,” I said. “I wouldn’t.”
Shona shook her head again. “Whatever. They had you over a barrel, like everyone else in that shiny golden town. You made your decisions and I’ve had to accept them ever since. And then you became a teacher and I could count on my gills the number of times I’ve seen you since then.”
“When did I start my teaching job?” I asked.
Shona screwed up her nose as she thought. “A little over ten years ago now,” she said. “Just before they started the full-scale building project.” Shona’s voice cracked a little as she went on. “Just before the cliff face fell away and they brought in the underwater pipework to hold it up — destroying half of Shiprock in the process.”
I could hardly believe what she was saying. “But — they wanted to do something like that last year, do you remember?”
“Last year? More like twenty-one years ago,” Shona said bitterly.
“We got the council to agree not to do it back then,” I whispered. “We kept Shiprock safe.”
Shona glared at me. “Yeah,” she said. “That was before Midas started lining the pockets of the Brightport councillors. One by one, they miraculously changed their tune. Cut forward two decades, and here we are: Brightport is thriving while Shiprock is crumbling and dying.”
I didn’t know what to say. I could hardly speak anyway, even if I did have words.
I reached out to touch Shona’s arm. “I can’t let this happen,” I said in a croak, feeling more useless than ever.
She looked at my hand but didn’t move her arm. “It already has, Emily,” she said sadly. “It already has.”
“I just can’t bear it,” I said in a whisper. “Us. Shiprock. Everything.” My throat hurt as I spoke. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
I needed someone to tell me that we could fix it.
I needed my mom.
As soon as I thought it, I realized how true it was. I didn’t even know where she lived anymore, but I had to find her. I just needed someone to hug me and tell me it would all be OK.
“Shona, I have to go,” I said.
“Surprise, surprise,” she said. “Leaving me again. Just like you always do. Good thing I don’t expect anything different from you these days.”
“Shona, I am not leaving you!” I insisted. “I’m going to find a way to make things right.”
“OK, good luck with that,” Shona said, flicking her lank hair.
I looked fiercely into her eyes. “I’m not leaving you like this. I’m not letting the future end up like this,” I said. “I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But I’m going to fix this.”
Before she had a chance to reply, I turned, flicked my tail, and swam back toward Brightport. I would prove to Shona that I was telling the truth. I would find a way to sort out this awful mess, even if it killed me.
I just hoped it wouldn’t actually come to that.
I pulled myself out of the water and perched on the steps as my tail flickered and twitched. After a few minutes the flickering stopped and in its place a numb feeling spread through my tail. A moment later my tail faded away completely and my legs returned. I rubbed my legs to get rid of the pins and needles that the transformation always gave me. Then I clambered up the steps and back onto the pier.
I didn’t have a plan. I walked up the pier without even thinking about it, almost on autopilot. I barely even registered where I was going — until I reached the turnoff for our jetty.
What used to be our jetty.
It couldn’t be further from the place I thought of as home now. Of course, the place that apparently was my home now was beyond recognizable too. Nothing was the same. I was about to turn away when I noticed a figure at the far end of the pier making their way toward the fancy yacht at the end. Even in this dim light, I recognized that walk.
Mr. Beeston.
What was he doing here? Was he visiting someone? Who could he possibly know that lived on a yacht like that? There was only one way to find out. I’d have to follow him. There was just one problem. The entrance to the pier was locked.
I went over to the gate to see if there was an intercom system or something. It had a screen like the one at school. The moment I looked into it, the screen burst into life with a picture of me! Thirty-three-year-old me.
Then the gate opened.
Why was it allowing me in? Was our boat still here somewhere after all, hidden behind the super-yachts? A shiver of nerves ran through me, along with a trail of questions. What was I going to find down here? What was Mr.
Beeston doing here? What was I doing here?
The last one was easy. I was here for one simple reason.
I needed some answers.
“Emily! How nice to see you. Are you coming aboard? Your mom’ll be back soon.”
Mr. Beeston was grinning at me from the deck of the shiny yacht, reaching his hand out to help me aboard as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
He didn’t look all that different. His hair was a bit wispier, combed sideways across his head; his face was wrinkled. But other than that, he looked pretty much like the same Mr. Beeston I’d known all my life.
I clambered onto the boat. Mr. Beeston leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, and I involuntarily shrank away from him.
What was he doing that for? Ewww.
He recovered quickly, reaching over to check one of the ropes on the boat instead. Then he beckoned me toward the door. “Come on. I’ll get us a drink and you can tell me all about your day,” he said.
Tell him all about my day? Tell him what? That it started almost exactly where we were standing now? Except I was on a very different boat, I was with my mom and dad — and I was thirteen years old?
“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” I said.
I followed him inside the boat. The inside took my breath away even more than the outside. Everywhere I looked it was all polished wood, shining metal, and expensive-looking furniture.
“Wow,” I said, before I could stop myself. “This is nice.”
Mr. Beeston swung around. “What’s that?” he asked.
“This place,” I said.
He gave me a strange look. “We’ve lived here for nearly nine years,” he said.
We?
Who was “we”? I didn’t want to ask.
“I, um, I mean, it’s looking very clean today. Today. Right now. Neat and clean,” I blundered.
Mr. Beeston went back to the galley. “That’s your mother for you,” he said over his shoulder.
WHAT?
What did he just say? What did he mean? My mom was Mr. Beeston’s cleaner?
But even as the thought came into my head, I noticed something across the room. A photo in a frame on top of a dresser.
I crossed the room and picked it up. My hand shook as I held it.
Mom and Mr. Beeston, standing on the deck of this boat, smiling at the camera. They each held a champagne glass in one hand.
With their free hand, they clutched each other.
Mom and Mr. Beeston?
I hadn’t heard him come back in the room, but a moment later he was beside me.
“Ah, happiest day of my life,” he said. “I’ve been looking at anniversary gifts today, as it happens.”
Happiest day of his life? Anniversary gifts?
Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the boat. I could barely breathe.
Mr. Beeston was holding out a glass to me.
“Sorry,” I gasped. “I can’t stay.”
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look pale.”
“No, honestly, I’m fine,” I said, trying my best to give him a reassuring smile, although my jaw was so tight it probably looked more like I was snarling at him. “I just remembered I have to do something. Homework. Correcting homework.”
I crossed the room as quickly as I could. Mr. Beeston followed me to the door. “I’ll tell your mom you stopped by,” he said.
“Yes. Yes, please. Thanks. Bye.”
And before he could say anything else to turn my already distorted world any more upside down, I jumped off the boat, waved good-bye, and left.
As I walked along the shiny boards of the pier, I barely even knew where I was going. I let my feet take me, and I kept my mind as empty as possible. I didn’t want to look too closely at what was in there.
Which was how I nearly walked off the end of the pier.
It was almost dark by now. The water swirled around like a moving shadow, occasional glints of white as the water broke against the struts of the pier. There was no moon.
Just darkness. And me.
I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t go back to the boat; I couldn’t bear to see Mom with Mr. Beeston. I couldn’t go back to Shiprock and deal with Shona’s disappointment. And I couldn’t go back to that fancy soulless apartment that had nothing in common with my life. I had nothing and no one and nowhere to turn.
Unless . . .
Was my dad out there somewhere?
I stared at the sea, willing it to answer me. A wave broke against the jetty in reply, splashing my feet.
It was worth a try. I couldn’t think of anything else.
So I crept down the steps in the darkness and jumped into the cold, dark, deep blue of the sea.
I’d been swimming for hours and I was totally lost.
Nothing was the same as I knew it, either on land or in the sea. Everywhere I went it was unfamiliar and scary — and I was stuck here. My tears mingled with the seawater and blinded my vision.
“Emily?”
Who was that?
I swiped my hand across my eyes and peered into the murky darkness. A face. A pair of eyes. A smile I knew so well.
“Dad?”
I rushed so hard into his arms that he swam into a backward somersault.
“Hey, little ’un! I haven’t had a greeting like that in some years,” Dad said, laughing as he righted himself.
Little ’un. He still called me that!
“How did you know I was here?” I asked.
He nudged a thumb behind him. “One of Neptune’s guys thought he saw you and gave me a shout. What are you doing out here at this time of night? Long way from home, aren’t you?”
He had no idea how far from home I was.
“I wanted to see you,” I said simply. I studied him as I spoke. His eyes had fans of lines around them. His head had less hair. But his face was the face I knew and loved so well.
“Come on, let’s go back to my place,” he said.
I swam alongside him, not caring where we went as long as I was with him.
“How’s your mom?” he asked.
How was I supposed to answer that? Oh, you know, she seems to be married to the guy who spent twelve years drugging her with pastries and spying on us both and then pretended to be your friend.
Dad registered the look of panic on my face and must have taken it for something else.
“I know, I know,” he said. “I’m not supposed to ask you about her. You hate being in the middle.” He stopped swimming and looked intently into my eyes. “We still care about each other, your mom and I,” he said. “We always will. Whatever we managed to do wrong we did one thing right, and that was you.”
Could I risk a question?
The words came out before I could stop them. “What happened, Dad?”
He turned away and started swimming again. “Yeah, I ask myself the same thing every day. But you know, it’s for the best. It was hard enough holding things together even when life was good. But when those Midas people wrecked the ocean and Neptune went to war with humans again, well, it was impossible.”
Neptune went to war with humans?
“Did he actually go to war?” I asked.
Dad laughed. “It’s just an expression. Not exactly war. But not far off. We had to pick sides back then, didn’t we? And I don’t blame your mom for choosing the winning one. Or you. I know you tried to build bridges for a few years.” Dad sighed. “Some worlds are too far apart to stretch a bridge over. If you try, it’ll collapse and you’ll fall through the middle.”
I was about to ask more. I was desperate to ask more. But then Dad said, “Anyway, let’s not rake over the past, eh? We’re where we are now and we have to make the best of it. Now, tell me about the first day back. Was it the usual mayhem?”
We swam side by side. I told Dad a few things about my first day back at school. I just switched the details so he wouldn’t know I was describing my actual first day, and instead he would think I was giving the teacher
’s point of view.
He laughed and listened and asked questions, and soon we’d reached a row of caves lined up along the seabed. Dad swam into the first of them.
It had a trident over the entrance. Neptune’s symbol. I guessed this was where Neptune’s team lived. I followed Dad inside and had to bite on my hand to stop myself from letting out a sob.
It was like an underwater bachelor’s pad. Or like the prison cell where I’d first seen him: stony furniture with Dad’s stuff on it; a single bed in the corner; a kitchen of sorts.
A photo of me, Mom, and Dad together was pinned on the rocky wall. It had a waterproof seal around it, but it looked like a regular photo. I didn’t look much older than I was now — than I felt now. We were all smiling.
I swam over to look at it more closely.
Dad saw me looking at it. “I love that photo,” he said sadly. “Those days seem like a lifetime ago, don’t they?”
I didn’t know how to answer him. I didn’t know how to answer any of this. And suddenly I felt too tired to even try.
“Dad, can I stay here tonight?” I asked.
“Sure you can.” He pointed to a hole that led to another section of the cave. “Spare bed is always ready for you, little ’un. You look tired. Why don’t you go off to bed now? I’ll wake you up bright and early for work in the morning.”
I swam over to him and kissed his cheek. Then I swam through to where he’d pointed, into a tiny cave with a low rocky wall and a stony bed in the far corner.
I hadn’t often slept underwater, but I knew I could. In fact, as I stretched out and yawned, I realized I was so tired I could probably have slept standing up.
As I lay down on the stony bed and pulled the reedy blanket up to my chin, I felt something fall from my pocket. Fumbling around, I found the stone. Despite everything, it felt warm and comforting in my hand. I closed my fingers around it and tried to switch off my thoughts.