by Liz Kessler
It wasn’t easy. My brain felt as if it were swimming with everything that had happened. All the conversations were playing and replaying in my head, overlapping and crisscrossing, looping in and out and around each other. Every bit of me was completely exhausted: brain, body, spirit. Everything. I had never felt so drained. My eyes closed and I felt my body shut down.
The thoughts faded away and the day drifted from me as I fell into a twitchy, troubled sleep.
The dream came over me like a fierce tidal wave.
The current had me. It was stronger than anything I’d ever felt. Stronger even than the flow that had pulled me under the falls at Forgotten Island. Stronger than the tide that had dragged me to Halflight Castle. Stronger than anything. It was stronger than me, too. I couldn’t fight it. I swam as hard as I could but nothing was working.
I tried to call out. I could feel my mouth moving — but my screams were silent. My voice was locked inside me.
I had to wake up.
But sleep pressed me down as heavily as the current.
Panic was rising. I could feel it run from the top of my head to the tip of my tail.
My tail.
Of course! I was a mermaid. I could swim against this. I had to.
I flicked my tail as hard as I could — but it did nothing.
Eventually, I gave in to the force of the water. It grabbed me, clutching me so hard I felt as though a giant had taken hold of me and curled his hand around me. The current spun me into a ball and hurled me, like a rag doll in the fastest spin cycle in the world.
Frothing angry water was everywhere. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t fight it.
I had no power left. Nothing to give. Nothing to offer.
I had nothing.
I gave up. I let the force take me. Let the current do what it wanted with me.
You win, I thought, you win.
I woke with a start. Where was I?
Oh, yes, I remembered now.
I remembered everything, even if I wished I didn’t. I was in Dad’s cave, in his spare room. On a rocky bed.
Strange. It felt more comfortable than a rocky bed. I turned over and started to fall asleep again. It was so cozy I didn’t want to get up.
Wait.
Cozy?
I opened an eye. I wasn’t in a cave. I was . . .
I leaped out of bed. Bed! My bed!
I was in my bedroom! On Fortuna, our boat! I was home! I ran to the mirror on my wall and peered into it. Yes! It was me! Thirteen-year-old Emily.
I reached up to touch my face as I stared at it. My skin felt familiar. Young again. I looked around my bedroom. Yes. It was all the same. Exactly how I remembered it.
I looked back at my reflection. My hair was tousled, cheeks creased from sleep.
I’d been asleep. Of course! It was a dream! I must have fallen asleep . . . but when? I couldn’t remember. Who cared?
I couldn’t wait to tell Mandy and Shona. Not just that I’d had such a vivid dream, but that I’d thought it was real! How ridiculous, thinking I’d gone forward twenty years! I lay back down on my bed, almost breathless with relief. A dream. Nothing but a —
“Wakey, wakey!” Mom’s voice called from outside my bedroom. “Rise and shine!” she added as she tapped on my door. She poked her head around the door. “Come on, time to get up.”
“I’m awake,” I said. I was about to tell her about my crazy dream when Mom sat on the end of the bed and smiled. “Back to school! Are you excited?”
“Huh?” I said. “That was yesterday, wasn’t it?”
Mom laughed. “I’ll get you some breakfast,” she said. “Hurry up, now. You don’t want to be late on your first day back.”
Then she got up and left me to get dressed.
Mom closed the door and I sat up in bed. My body turned cold with recognition and fear as I replayed the conversation in my head.
There wasn’t anything particularly strange or unusual about it. But there was something scary about what Mom had said.
It was exactly what she’d said to me yesterday, too.
My heart was fluttering as I went to join Mom in the kitchen. I sat down at the table and looked at my breakfast: poached egg, sausages, bacon, and a crispy hash brown.
Exactly the same breakfast she’d made for me yesterday.
I could almost feel my throat close up as a sense of panic began to wriggle through me. It felt as if a snake made of ice were slithering around my body.
Mom saw me looking at my breakfast. “Back to school treat,” she said with a smile.
I tried to make my mouth smile back. I probably looked like one of those super-scary clowns with a huge painted-on grin. “Thanks, Mom,” I managed to say.
But I couldn’t eat. I could barely breathe.
What was happening?
“Come on, love,” Mom said. “Eat up. You’ll be late.”
My stomach felt as if it had frozen over. I remembered her saying the same thing to me yesterday. Exactly the same thing.
“I — I’m too nervous to eat, Mom,” I said. At least that much was true. Mom must have assumed I meant because of it being a big day. I was pretty sure I’d said the same thing yesterday.
Mom leaned over to kiss my cheek. “OK, chicken,” she said. “Leave it by the sink and I’ll give it to your dad. He never turns down a hearty breakfast.”
If I remembered correctly, in a moment she’d pull her bathrobe around her, go to the fridge, and tell me to at least take some fruit with me.
Mom pulled her bathrobe around her and went to the fridge. “At least take some fruit with you,” she said calmly. Naturally. As though this weren’t the freakiest thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life!
“I — I will,” I said, parroting what I remembered saying last time. I felt as if I were in a play, remembering lines that didn’t mean anything to me — lines that weren’t really about me — but I was saying them anyway because the people around me expected to hear them.
Feeling like a wooden doll, I got up from the table and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I went back to my bedroom to get my schoolbag and make my bed.
As I pulled back the comforter, something fell on the floor. I bent down to pick it up.
The wishing stone. I’d fallen asleep holding it.
As I turned it over in my hands, something scratched at my thoughts. A memory of something that might give me a clue.
The poem that had come with it.
I grabbed my schoolbag and dug around for the poem. I opened it up and scanned the lines.
Make your wish and make it fast.
But don’t expect your dreams to last.
Hurry up, now, time won’t wait.
Slip through worlds and meet your fate.
When you have a magic stone,
Hold it close to take you home.
Life will never be the same
Once you’ve looked through its dark frame.
When I’d first read it, I’d brushed it off as some kind of nonsense poem. Reading it now, it didn’t seem like nonsense at all. The stone had answered my wish and then taken me forward to show me the consequences. I’d slipped through worlds and met my fate.
I’d seen an awful future. Was that what it meant by “its dark frame”?
And I’d held the stone close as I’d gone to sleep.
Had it brought me home?
My head was starting to hurt from the thoughts beating around in my brain. I had no way of finding any answers. I could barely even form the questions.
I folded up the poem and put it and the stone in my jacket pocket. Despite everything, I felt safer having them near me than leaving them behind. Then I shook away all my questions and thoughts and headed out of my room, ready for school, my mind blank, my body going through the motions like a puppet on a dark, lonely stage.
Mom came out onto the deck in her bathrobe.
“Have a good day at school, darling,” she said. S
he leaned over to give me a kiss. I climbed off Fortuna as though I were in a dream.
Could all of this be a dream?
“Thanks, Mom,” I said as I stumbled onto the jetty. “Have a good day too.”
I was about to turn away when I spotted Dad swimming around the back of the boat.
Dad! They were here, together. A tiny bit of my heart unclenched.
“Hey, little ’un. Today’s the day,” he said, exactly like he’d said yesterday. He wiped a strand of hair off his face. “It’ll be wonderful. I’m sure.”
What could I say? Actually, Dad, today isn’t the day. Yesterday was “the day.” Today is the day after the day. Today is the day when the world around me has turned into something in between a freak show and a horror movie.
Somehow I didn’t think that was what he wanted to hear.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said instead. I felt as though I were having an out-of-body experience, as though the real me were in there somewhere while I watched an imposter take over my body and speak words that everyone around me was expecting to hear, instead of the ones that I really wanted to say.
So I blew my parents a kiss, threw my bag over my shoulder, and made my way up the jetty.
“Come on, now, eighth-graders. Let’s settle down, shall we?”
Mrs. Porter shuffled papers around on her desk while most of the class kept on chatting, emptying bags, teasing each other, and swapping gossip.
I had nothing to say. I stared ahead of me, letting it all happen around me as if I were watching it from the other side of a glass partition.
I didn’t care that no one was talking to me. I didn’t bother trying to look busy. I barely even noticed the smiles, laughs, and whispered gossip. I didn’t want to be part of it.
Aaron’s empty seat was on my right, as vacant and alone as I felt.
Mandy pulled out the chair on my left, shoved her bag under the table, and sat down.
I didn’t even turn in her direction. I knew she would ignore me, so why bother? I didn’t nudge her, I didn’t say hello. I didn’t want to see her scowl at me in reply.
Even so, from the corner of my eye I noticed her turn completely away from me. She did it so pointedly it was hard to miss. And yes, it felt like a stab in the chest. Just as it had felt when she did the exact same thing yesterday.
Mandy talked loudly with Julie Crossens. I had a second of wondering if maybe it was for my benefit. If she were trying to make me jealous. Trying to get a reaction. But I couldn’t react. I was numb.
“Come on, guys. Enough’s enough,” Mrs. Porter said. Eventually, everyone hushed.
“Thank you,” she said. “OK, come on. Let’s use our homeroom time to catch up. I’m going to call on you one by one to tell us your favorite thing from winter break. And I hope you all had a more interesting time than I did!” Mrs. Porter smiled as she glanced around the class.
At least I was prepared this time. I just wanted to get my turn out of the way and then retreat into the shadows.
I put my hand up.
“Yes, Emily.”
“My favorite part was staying up till midnight on New Year’s Eve,” I said. “We watched the countdown on TV and sang songs and then went outside to watch fireworks.”
The lie slipped off my tongue so easily.
“That’s lovely, Emily. I watched fireworks, too, and thought they were incredible!” Mrs. Porter spoke so warmly I felt my cheeks flush. “OK, anyone else?”
Sherry Daniels put her hand up. “I went out fishing on my dad’s boat,” she said.
“Sounds good,” Mrs. Porter said. “Catch anything interesting?”
Sherry shrugged. “My dad caught a lot. I mainly just helped with the ropes and tried not to be sick.”
Mrs. Porter laughed. “Who’s up next?” she asked.
Every word turned my insides colder and colder. Next it would be Tammy Bayfield. Right on cue, Tammy put her hand up. “The newspaper closed for Christmas,” she said, “so I got to hang out with my mom every day.”
“Good for your mom,” Mrs. Porter replied. “We all need some time off over Christmas!”
Now it would be Aiden Harris’s turn, the boy whose dad owned the local landfill.
Aiden thrust his hand in the air. The words burbled out of him, just like yesterday. “My dad took me for a ride in the dump truck,” Aiden said. “We drove to the harbor together and looked out at the sea. Dad wanted to see a dolphin. He’s lived by the sea all his life and never seen one. He says it’s his biggest dream. We didn’t see any dolphins, but I still had a great day hanging out with my dad.”
Succinct as always, Aiden, I said under my breath at the same time that Mrs. Porter said it out loud.
Just like yesterday, she went around the whole class. At least this time I’d gotten my turn over with right away.
And at least I knew what was coming when Mrs. Porter asked Mandy to share her favorite part, and Mandy said, “My favorite thing over the holidays was hanging out with my best friend.” I looked down at my desk so I didn’t see her give me a pointed look before adding, “Julie. The best best friend in the world.”
Being ready for it didn’t make it hurt any less. If anything, it felt even worse hearing it a second time.
As soon as Mrs. Porter had dismissed us, I left the classroom and hurried down the hallway. I knew from last time that I could get away with missing English class, but I didn’t go to the nurse this time. I went to the bathroom. I checked all the doors. Good. I was alone.
I went inside one of the stalls, sat down, put my head in my hands, and cried.
I didn’t move till the bell rang for the end of first period.
“You can get through this,” I said aloud to my reflection. “You can make things right with Mandy. You are Emily Windsnap, you’ve been in worse situations than this.”
My reflection frowned back at me. It wasn’t convinced, and neither was I.
Still, I couldn’t hide in here forever, so I washed my face, took a deep breath, and went to join the others for history.
We were following along in our textbooks as Miss Westfield read a passage.
The teacher was looking at her book; everyone else was looking down at their own.
I knew what I had to do.
I pulled out my notebook, quietly tore off a page, and scribbled a note.
Mandy, I need you. Something awful has happened and you’re the only person I can talk to about it. Meet me at lunchtime, and I’ll tell you everything! Please?
I nudged Mandy and shoved the note to her under the table.
She took it from me and read it. Finally she scribbled something on the bottom of my note and passed it back to me.
I read the note. Seven words.
OK, but it had better be good.
Finally I let myself smile. I had till lunchtime to figure out what to say. Two hours to come up with a way to summarize the craziness of my last twenty-four hours so I could explain it to Mandy. Then I just had to hope she’d believe me and want to be my friend again, so we could figure out what the heck had happened to my life.
It wasn’t going to be easy.
“Seriously?” Mandy burst out. We were in our place in the schoolyard and I’d told her everything. It hadn’t exactly gone well.
“That is the best you can come up with as a way to make us friends again? Some crazy story that you expect me to believe?”
“I promise it’s true,” I insisted. “Every word of it.”
Mandy puffed her cheeks out and looked away. I held my breath while I waited for her to say something else.
Finally she turned back to me and shook her head. “Sorry, Emily,” she said. “I thought you genuinely wanted to get our friendship back on track. I even let myself think it might be nice, thought it might be like the old days, you and me close again.”
“I want it to be like the old days,” I said, my voice starting to crack as tears filled up my throat. “I want that more than anything. Mandy, I promise I�
��m telling you the —”
“I’m not going to be made a fool of,” Mandy cut in. “I’ve got other friends. I don’t need this. First you disappear for months, don’t include me in your adventures, and then you come home and spend the entire break with Aaron.”
“He was going away!” I protested. “It was our last few weeks together.”
Mandy kept talking as if I hadn’t spoken. “And then you make up one of the most ridiculous stories I’ve ever heard — even for you!”
“Mandy, it’s not ridic —”
“Sorry, Em,” she said, holding up her palm to stop me. “We’re done. I’m out. I need some normal friends — and some loyal ones, too.”
Before I had the chance to say anything else, she’d turned and walked away, leaving me feeling more lonely and lost than I had ever felt in my entire life.
I honestly don’t know how I got through the rest of the day.
If you had asked me what classes I went to, who was sitting where, what anyone said, I wouldn’t have had a clue. I went through it all like a zombie.
Finally the bell rang and I was out of school like a shot. I couldn’t bear to spend a second longer in that place than I had to.
As I made my way across the schoolyard, I saw Mandy and Julie hanging out together at the far end. I was crossing the yard a minute or two earlier than I had last time, so it was only the two of them for now. Aiden and a couple of the other boys were ambling over to join them. I could hear them talking as I passed them.
“You coming to football practice on Friday?” one of the boys was asking.
“Can’t, sorry. Mom says I have to go straight home from school on Friday because we’re having an early dinner,” Aiden replied.
I was about to hurry away when he added, “Dad’s got some stupid meeting later in the evening. Something about gold. King Midas or something.”
What?
Aiden’s dad was planning to go to the Midas meeting?
I had almost reached Mandy and Julie. Should I tell Mandy about it? Would she listen? Did I even want to? Look what happened last time!