Emily Windsnap and the Tides of Time

by Liz Kessler

  As I approached them, Mandy turned away from me. Well, that was my cue. Forget it. All it did last time was make everything worse, anyway. I left them to it and didn’t even bother trying to speak to Mandy.

  As I ambled through the streets alone, taking the long way home, I tried and tried to get my head around everything.

  I couldn’t. In the end, I headed back to Fortuna.

  Mom was out. Yeah, that made sense. I was home later than I’d been yesterday, so she’d probably already gone to the store. The boat was locked up and I didn’t have my key. It seemed as if today was destined to get worse and worse.

  As I stood on the jetty, trying to decide what to do, I knew there was only one thing I really wanted to do, only one person I wanted to see, and only one place I might get another chance to make this day better.

  I got up, brushed myself off, and hurried to the end of the pier, my spirits lifting with every step.

  Shona would be pleased to see me. Shona would welcome me and want to hear about my day. Shona would believe me when I told her things that no one except a best friend would believe.

  At least, I hoped as hard as I’ve ever hoped anything that she would.

  As I swam, my desire to see Shona kept on bumping into something else: the memory of what it was like last time I was with her. The future version of Shiprock — and the future version of our friendship.

  What if it happened again? What if it was already like that now?

  I didn’t think I could take it if I lost Shona again. I wouldn’t have anything left to hope for if Shiprock was destroyed.

  The closer I got, the more everything became mixed up in my mind: the past, the present, the future, Shiprock, Brightport, Mandy, Shona, me. Around and around it swirled in my head, frothing and bubbling like the wildest sea.

  Stop!

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave it to chance.

  I stopped swimming. Treading water with my tail, I pulled out the wishing stone. As I held it in my palm, it seemed to calm me. Its warmth spread through me. The second line around its middle was shining.

  Could I?

  Look what had happened the last time I’d made a wish. How badly everything had gone wrong.

  But the stone felt so warm and comforting in my hand. Surely I couldn’t blame the stone for what had happened in the future? It was humans who had messed things up, not the wishing stone. Maybe I could use the stone to help prevent that from happening again — and protect my friendship with Shona at the same time!

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I held the stone in front of me with both hands. Then I whispered, “I wish that humans won’t destroy the sea. Please let Shiprock, Shona — and our friendship — stay intact.”

  In reply, the stone immediately warmed up so much my palm felt hot. Just like last time, it began to buzz and vibrate. The stone had heard me. It would do it. I knew it would.

  The relief I felt was like a physical weight being taken off me. I swam on, lighter, happier, and freer than I’d felt all day. I barely made any effort, barely noticed where I was going, barely cared.

  Which was why I was already being swept away by the tide before I realized what was happening.

  No! Not again!

  Bubbles and froth surrounded me, like last time. And the force tugged at me. As the current grew, I felt the stone heat up in my hand, and I knew this wasn’t a normal current. It wasn’t a riptide. It was the stone, propelling me forward again.

  The current was pulling me so hard that getting out of it felt about as likely — and as dangerous — as jumping off a speeding train.

  The stone buzzed and tingled in my hand as though it had an engine inside it, pulling me on and on.

  I tried not to think too much. For one thing, if I focused on what was happening, I’d start to panic, and that was the worst thing I could do. But there was another reason too. One that I didn’t want to look at too closely.

  A part of me wanted this to happen. I had made a wish again, after all. Somewhere among the fear and the anxiety and the panic, a tiny corner of my brain wanted to know: Would it all work out this time?

  Whatever I was thinking — or not thinking — suddenly became irrelevant as the current turned into a roller coaster and all I had left was panic.

  No. No. Please, no. I didn’t want this. I couldn’t go there again. How could I have thought even for a millisecond that I wanted to go through this again? I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to get off.

  But there was no getting off this ride. The force tipped me downward and hurled me toward the seabed. Down, down. On and on.

  A rumbling sound echoed through the darkness, just like last time. And then, like last time, among the dark, swirling, rushing water, a shaft of light appeared ahead of me. At first it flickered and wavered like a candle in the darkness. But as I got closer, the light widened and grew stronger.

  The stone pulled harder. My stomach twisted and turned. My eyes leaked tears that fell away from me as I sped through the water.

  The light grew. And then . . .

  The seabed opened and swallowed me whole.

  I was in the chasm again.

  I felt along the sides of the ridge, staring into the darkness as I swam. The chasm went on and on, twisting through the seabed like a giant snake.

  The light was ahead of me, growing stronger and stronger as I swam toward it. I knew from last time that it was my only way out. I just didn’t know what was waiting for me this time.

  Then I saw something different.

  I’d reached a fork. The main route directly ahead was so dark I couldn’t see a thing. To my left, a narrow channel was lit by a shaft of dusty light.

  I went to the left. The stone buzzed gently in my hand.

  The effort of swimming became easier with every stroke. A gentle tide was pulling me along. At the same time, the chasm began to grow wider again, and lighter. Soon I was whizzing along without even trying and was rubbing my eyes against the light. After a while the chasm had grown so wide it had disappeared altogether.

  I was in open sea. Clear, bright, sunny open sea.

  Multicolored fish swam all around me. I’d never seen so many varieties in one place. Six thin silver fish with bright-gold fins sparkling in the light swam by in a line. A shoal of green fish with purple fins hovered to my right. A smaller shoal of blue-and-red striped fish wriggled below me. Ten seahorses danced by in pairs, tails joined as if they were out on a romantic stroll together. I laughed as I watched them.

  I swam on. The sea itself felt different. Lighter, somehow, as if swimming took less effort. Bluer and clearer too. Everything about it was better than I’d ever known it.

  There was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first.

  It came to me gradually.

  The trash. The plastic. The mess that humans had made of the ocean.

  It was all gone. My wish had come true.

  It was easy to get caught up in the beauty around me, marveling at it all. The colors and varieties of sea creatures filled me with a joy that made me want to laugh.

  I wanted to share the feeling. And I knew I wanted to share it with Shona.

  As I thought of her, I remembered what had happened the last time I met up with her, in the future. It was awful. What if it were like that again?

  There was only one way to find out. I forced my questions and worries away and swam on toward Shiprock.

  I was halfway to Shiprock when I got my first shock. I was swimming past the place that Shona and I called our playground. It was one of the first places Shona and I had ever visited in the sea together. There were slides made out of abandoned steel tubes, old fishing nets sprawled across the sand that you could swim under, and a couple of old discarded bicycles propped up on huge rusty springs.

  None of that was there now.

  In its place, a brand-new playground had been built. Two gleaming curly tubes stretched almost from the surface of the water, winding around and arou
nd to the seabed. A couple of young merboys swam up and dived into the top of the tube, screaming with laughter as they flew out the other end. Their moms were swimming nearby, chatting as they watched their sons. They looked up as I passed.

  I smiled nervously at them. One of them gave me a quick wave. The other said a quick, “Hey, Emily,” before going back to her conversation.

  I swam on through the playground, ignoring the fluttering in my stomach.

  Up ahead, the old bikes on rusty springs had been replaced by a giant trampoline made out of a gleaming ship’s sail stretched across the seabed and tied on to rocks at the edges. Three young mermaids were bouncing on it, giggling as they rolled upside down, their tails curling around them as they bounced.

  Beyond that, a couple of long shiny pipes formed a climbing structure. Next to it, lying in the sand was a boat that looked brand-new; it seemed to have been made into a playhouse. Merkids were swimming in and out of the portholes, chasing one another around it.

  Everyone was smiling and laughing. Everything was glossy and immaculate. Our secret playground made of abandoned trash had been turned into a gleaming public park.

  While no one was looking in my direction, I swam up to one of the bright, shiny pipes. I took a quick glance around: no one was watching. I calmed my racing heart — and looked directly at the pipe.

  My reflection gazed back at me. And yes, it was exactly as I’d suspected: once again, I was twenty years older.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t yelp. I didn’t want to attract attention.

  Then I flicked my tail and swam away.

  I almost couldn’t look as I approached Shiprock. All I could think about was how it had been last time: the crumbling rocks, the grimy water, the desolate and destroyed town, the merpeople in rags. Even Shona, unkempt, ruined, and angry. The memory made me shudder, and I swam with my hands ahead of me, half covering my eyes, until I reached the outskirts of Shiprock. Then I moved my hands and stared. I could barely believe it.

  Ahead of me, the archway was standing once again — except it was even grander than before. The rocks were gleaming as though they’d just been polished. Sea plants grew in perfect vertical lines up the brickwork, in purple and green and yellow. At the top of the archway, the plants had been woven into elaborate ornate letters: welcome to shiprock.

  “Swishy!” I said to myself. I could feel my face widening into a grin.

  As I swam through the archway and into Shiprock, relief washed through me. I didn’t care if it was the future, the present, the past, or what; all that mattered was that everything was fine. Shiprock hadn’t been destroyed. It looked cleaner and more beautiful than I’d ever seen it.

  Everywhere I swam it was the same. Caves that used to be dark and narrow had been widened, cleaned, and spruced up. Holes had been made in the rocky ceilings so that light fanned through, beaming down on me in warm golden rays.

  The wishing stone had fixed things! This time it had made the world right. I couldn’t wait to see Shona and make sure it had made us right again as well.

  I crossed the town square. The last time I was here, merpeople were huddled in dark corners, eyeing me suspiciously as I swam by.

  It couldn’t have been more different this time.

  A group of young mermaids played together, laughing and squealing in one corner while their moms hovered nearby. A couple of older mermen were sitting on rocks outside an entrance to one of the caves. They both had white hair and wrinkled faces, and I guessed they were probably in their seventies. But their wide smiles and shiny tails and strong muscled arms made them look about twenty years younger.

  A group of merkids swam by as I reached the other side of the square. Two mermaids and a merboy. I couldn’t help feeling a pang inside me. They reminded me of Shona, Aaron, and me, talking, laughing, and hatching plans.

  As they passed by, I could see the tunnel that led to Shona’s home. I swam into it.

  As I made my way to Shona’s home, I couldn’t help marveling at it all. Even the water felt different. It was so light and clear I felt as though I were swimming through air.

  Soon I’d arrived at Shona’s cave. I stopped outside, my tail twitching as I plucked up the courage to go inside. I had no idea what might be lying in store for me. But there was only one way to find out.

  So I stuck my head inside the door and called, “Shona! Anyone home? It’s Emily!”

  For a moment I wondered if I hadn’t actually traveled into the future at all, because the mermaid who swam out toward me barely looked a day older than the last time I’d seen her.

  It was only when I saw her up close that I could tell that she actually had aged — she’d just done it really well, like everyone else around here. Tiny little lines stroked the edges of her eyes. Her hair was a shade darker, her tail maybe slightly longer, but her smile was the same.

  “Emily!” Shona swam toward me and hugged me. I hugged her back. I didn’t want to let go. We were still friends! I clung to her in relief.

  Shona finally pulled away. “You’d think I hadn’t seen you for years,” she said, laughing.

  “Yeah. Ha, ha!” I replied.

  Then she frowned. “But it has been weeks,” she added. “To tell the truth, I was beginning to worry about you.”

  “Worry about me? Why?”

  Shona turned to swim back into her house. I followed. “Oh, you know,” she said over her shoulder as she swam. “Same old stuff. The way things are nowadays, especially on land.”

  The way things are on land? A knife twisted my gut. “Um. Yeah. They’re . . . bad. Are they really that bad?”

  Shona stopped and turned. Smiling that same old Shona-smile at me, she said, “Look at you, still trying to look on the bright side. I admire you for it, really I do.”

  Before I could say anything else, she went on. “I understand, though. I know it’s hard for you to get away, with all the rules and regulations. How did you get here? Still got that friendly guard on the west border?”

  I had no idea what Shona was talking about or how to answer her. “Um. Yeah, that’s right,” I said eventually.

  “It’s lucky you caught me. How did you know I was here?” Shona asked.

  “You live here!”

  Shona stopped swimming and looked me in the eyes. “Em, are you OK?” she asked.

  Could I tell her? Would she laugh at me? Would she believe me?

  I couldn’t take the risk. “I’m fine,” I said. “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t lived here in more than ten years!”

  I tried to force out a laugh. I know it probably sounded more like I was choking on a fish bone. “Yeah. Of course you haven’t,” I said. “I meant you lived here. Lived. Not live. Just joking.”

  Shona laughed too. “You’re so funny,” she said affectionately.

  “Yeah. I know,” I agreed. Despite everything, I felt better by making Shona laugh. “So, what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Just came over to keep an eye on things while they’re away,” Shona replied. Then she laughed again. “Silly, really, when there is a zero percent crime rate!”

  “Wow. Really? That’s amazing!” I said. “So . . . things are good in Shiprock?”

  Shona gave me a questioning look before saying, “Things are really good. They’re better than good. Things are . . .”

  “Swishy!” I finished for her.

  Shona burst out laughing. “Hey, we haven’t used that old word for ages,” she said. “You’re having a nostalgic day today, aren’t you?”

  “I guess so,” I said. “So your parents are away?”

  “Yeah. Six months now! They’ve been sending messages with the dolphin mail every week, but I still miss them.”

  I was about to reply, but then Shona did something odd. More than odd. Worse than odd. Her brow creased and she tilted her head slightly to the side.

  “How’s your poor mom?” she asked in a weird tone.

  “My . . . ?” I be
gan. I couldn’t say anything else. My throat had constricted to the size of a straw.

  My “poor” mom?

  “I do think of her often, you know,” Shona went on.

  That was when I realized what the weird tone was. Sympathy. I had no idea why. And I didn’t have a clue how to answer her. But I knew one thing for sure. I had to find out for myself how my “poor” mom was.

  “Actually I, um, I’m late to visit her,” I said, dodging the question and at the same time realizing how much I meant it. I suddenly had an absolutely burning need to see my mom.

  I’d seen Shiprock and everything was great. The world had turned out fine, and my friendship with Shona was intact. I could relax. I could stop being scared.

  Now I just needed my mom.

  I started swimming back toward the door. “Sorry,” I said. “I hadn’t realized how late it was. It’s nice to see you. Glad you’re happy. Got to go. Sorry.”

  The words burbled out of me, falling over one another as though they were in as much of a hurry as I was.

  Shona followed me to the door. “It’s the spring tide tonight. Will I see you later?” she said as we hugged.

  “Um. Yeah, sure,” I said hurriedly. I had no idea where I was supposed to be seeing her. I just needed to get away.

  “Send my best to your mom, from all of us. Let her know she’s in our thoughts.”

  I pulled out of the hug and tried to smile. “I will,” I said.

  Shona stayed in the entrance, flicking her tail and waving as I left. “See you later!” she called.

  “I hope so!” I said, finally saying something I knew was true.

  With one final smile at my best friend, I turned and swam away from Shiprock and back to my hometown, trying my hardest not to worry too much about what might be waiting for me there.

  As I swam toward Brightport, I tried to calm the gurgling anxiety turning somersaults in my stomach. I tried to halt the questions doing cartwheels in my mind. I tried to enjoy swimming in the sea, like I always did.

  It half worked. The sea was so beautiful it was hard not to enjoy swimming in it. I’d never known it to be like this. The clarity was like glass. The life on the seabed was so colorful it was as if there were rainbows beaming down through the water. The fish that passed swam lazily alongside me, not in any hurry, in a multitude of shapes, sizes, and colors. I actually began to enjoy myself.