“To find the missing part of the shell,” I said. “It must have broken off when it fell on the rocks. I don’t know why, but it feels important.”
“Okay, but any way we can ditch some of our cargo?” He pointed his thumb behind me at Bug, pedaling furiously to catch up. I nodded, then turned and punched the SOLD sign posted in our front yard.
When I got inside, I saw that Mom had lunch all ready. She was sitting at the table. I like seeing her in her park ranger uniform. She looks important. Her light green button-up shirt has short sleeves with a badge on each side. A utility belt holds up her brown pants. That’s where she carries her gun. Sometimes I forget Mom’s job can be risky.
Bug and I sat down. I was a bit full from the ice cream, but we ate our sandwiches anyway. Bug told her about the weird bird he had seen on the beach. I didn’t mention our little shell adventure. I wanted to keep it to myself a bit longer.
Mom got ready to go back to work. Before she left, she turned and said, “Macy, this afternoon I would like you and Bug to start packing up your bedrooms.”
“What?” I nearly spit out my milk. “I don’t want to start packing yet! We don’t even have boxes.”
“Macy,” Mom said. “I don’t have time to argue with you about this. It has to be done. I picked up some boxes this morning.” She motioned to a pile of cardboard in the living room. “You can start by putting them together. Get Bug to help.”
My thoughts went back to the shell in the bin at the Trove. Would I ever find a treasure big enough to make Mom want to stay at the lake?
“Fine,” I said. “I can put the boxes together. But that’s it.”
After Mom left, I called Sam and told him our next hunt would have to wait until Mom got home from work. But at least we’d solved one problem—Bug could stay home.
Chapter Four
There were two things everyone knew about Old Lady Wilson. She had the best dock in town. And she didn’t want anyone near her boathouse.
“Be back before dark,” Mom said.
Sam and I hid our bikes on the other side of the road in front of the cabin. We were both dressed in dark colors. The lights from Mrs. Wilson’s TV flashed through the cabin’s main window. Perfect. She’d likely never even notice us.
As we got down to the rocks, I searched for the spot where we had dropped the bottle. But every rock had the same gray pattern as the next.
“I think we were over there,” Sam said, pointing toward the boathouse. Like always, he had his soccer ball tucked under one arm.
“We weren’t that close,” I said. “Keep looking.” I motioned to Sam. “It has to be here somewhere.”
Sam moved toward the dock. “Look what I found!” he said. He held up a long stick and walked toward me. As he got closer I could see it was a walking stick that looked like it had been carved from a tree branch. Oh no.
“Where did you find this?” I asked.
Sam pointed toward the dock.
“It’s the old lady’s cane! She must be out here.” I ducked low and looked out at the lake. Sure enough, a couple of voices floated our way.
We tiptoed toward the boathouse, listening carefully. The closer we got to the back corner, the louder the voices were.
The first voice was Mrs. Wilson’s. “I’m worried. How will we find it now?”
“Everything will be fine,” said another woman. I didn’t recognize her voice. She sounded much younger. “Don’t worry, Joy.”
Joy? That was the old lady’s name? Sam and looked at each other, our eyes wide. I tried not to giggle. That name was far too fluffy and sweet for someone so grumpy.
“I’ve been trying to read up on the Beast—”
“You won’t find it in your books,” the other woman said. “It’s a monster.”
Joy grunted. “Monsters come from somewhere.”
“Some would call me a monster.” The other woman laughed.
“That’s not funny, MerKay. Someone needs to watch out for you—you don’t belong here.”
What did she mean by that? Their voices dropped too low for us to hear anything more. I leaned around the corner but slipped on the edge of the deck and hit the railing. With a craaack, it broke apart. I reached for Sam’s hand, but it was too late. I fell face first into the lake and started to sink.
The chilly water was dark. I couldn’t figure out which way was up. My lungs hurt. I needed air!
Suddenly two hands grabbed me under my arms and pulled me out of the water. I sputtered and coughed up lake water as my rescuer pushed me onto the dock. I turned back to say thank you, but no one was there.
“Who’s down there?” Joy called out.
I looked up and saw the old lady standing at the spot where I had broken the railing.
Sam appeared in the water next to me. “Come on!” he said. “We need to get out of here.”
“Don’t move, you hooligans!” Joy yelled. “I’m coming down there!”
I slid back into the water and followed Sam toward the beach. I stayed underwater as long as I could and then pushed myself to the surface. I had reached the beach. That had to be a lake record for breath holding!
“My soccer ball,” Sam said, throwing himself onto the sand. “I dropped it near Old Lady Wilson’s boathouse when you fell in. How will I get it back?”
I sat on the sand next to Sam. The sky was darker now, but we were safe. “Come over first thing in the morning. I still want to find that missing piece of shell. But I’ll help you find your soccer ball too. I promise. I owe you one for saving me back there.”
“What, from Old Lady Wilson?” Sam asked. “I mean, from Joy?” We both chuckled.
“No,” I said, shaking the water from my hair. “When you helped me up onto the dock after I fell in.”
“Uh, Macy,” Sam said. “You must have hit your head. I didn’t help you. I was so freaked out, I hid. When Old Lady Wilson got too close to me, I jumped into the water.”
“If it wasn’t you, then who?” I asked.
But before Sam could answer, we both heard someone crashing through the bushes. Joy!
“You’re not getting away this time!” she called out.
Sam and I ran to the picnic area. There was a row of evergreens at the far end. They gave us cover to run to the road without being spotted. Once there we ducked into the ditch and kept our heads low.
When we reached our bikes, Sam whispered, “Whew! That was a close one!”
“Yeah. See you in the morning? We have to complete our mission.”
Sam nodded and headed for home.
When I got into the house, Mom was in the kitchen. She was wearing her uniform.
“Perfect timing, Macy,” she said. “I’ve got to run to the bison pen. There’s been some vandalism. I’ll be about an hour, and I need you to watch Ben.”
The bison pen was a huge fenced area about a ten-minute drive from our cabin. Real bison lived there, and it was set up so visitors could learn about the history of the area.
I watched Mom drive away from the cabin. My heart was still pounding from our narrow escape. The sun was hidden behind the hills now. Shadows stretched across our yard. I shuddered. They looked like long scraggly fingers reaching toward our cabin.
Chapter Five
The next day I waited for Sam on the front step. When he showed up, he had his shirt on inside out. He was super fidgety, and he couldn’t stop yawning.
“It’s no use,” Sam said. “I’m never getting my soccer ball back.”
I shook my head. Treasure-hunting rule number three: Never say never. “I’ve got an idea,” I said. “But it requires one more treasure hunter.”
In the backyard, Bug was snuggled up in our hammock, reading a book. Sam and I each took a side so he couldn’t escape.
“We need your help,” I said, almost choking on the last word. I couldn’t remember ever asking Bug for help.
Bug peeked over the top of his book, his brows squished together. “What for?”
; “It’s top secret,” I said. “Treasure-hunting business.”
“No thanks,” Bug said. “The last time I went hunting with you two, it wasn’t any fun.”
“Please,” Sam begged. “I lost my soccer ball. And it is going to be very tricky to get it back.”
“Tricky how?” Bug asked.
“It’s a three-person job,” I said. “We’ll even give you all the treasures we find. Deal?”
Bug sat up. “All the treasures?”
I nodded, holding out my hand. I knew we wouldn’t find much. We were going straight to the boathouse, then back again. It was a quick job.
“Deal,” Bug said, abandoning his book and shaking my hand.
We started hiking back to Crow’s Hill. But then Bug clued in. “Wait, are we going back to Mrs. Wilson’s cabin?”
I shook my head. “Not the cabin, Bug. The boathouse.”
“Are you serious?” he asked. “After what happened?”
I took my little brother by the shoulders. “Bug, you shook on it. We have a deal. There’s no going back now.”
His mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Then he pushed my hands away and crossed his arms.
“Fine,” he said. “But if anything goes wrong, I’m telling Mom.”
Telling Mom. The biggest threat of all. But there was no time to argue. Sam wouldn’t survive another day without his beloved soccer ball, and I needed to find that missing shell piece. I led my team down the hill, across the road and to the edge of the bushes.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
I put Bug on lookout while Sam and I sneaked to the boathouse. My directions were simple. If Bug saw Mrs. Wilson, he’d hold up his binoculars and pretend he had spotted a rare bird near her property. That way he’d keep her attention on him instead of us.
As we neared the boathouse, I picked up my pace. We were only ten feet away—nine—eight—
“What are you up to?” Mrs. Wilson’s voice yelled from behind us.
I ran the last stretch and hid around the corner of the boathouse. Sam practically fell on top of me.
“I’m following a wood thrush,” I heard Bug say. I had to give the kid credit. He put on a good show.
“Interesting,” she replied. “I’ve never seen one up close.” I could see her standing beside Bug now, both of them looking up into the sky. I let out a long breath. We were in the clear!
We quickly searched the bushes where Sam had been standing the night before. There was no sign of the soccer ball.
“Oh no!” said Sam.
“What?”
He had his hands on a dusty window, peering inside. “My soccer ball! It’s inside the boathouse!”
“Well, let’s get it then,” I replied. The door was locked. I pulled at the old padlock, but it didn’t budge.
“What now?” Sam asked.
I crawled to the broken railing and looked down at the water. It was the last place I wanted to go, but we had no choice. The only way we could get into the boathouse was to swim in underneath.
“Follow me,” I said.
Very carefully I stepped into the water. It was just as cold as it had been the night before.
Just as we got under the boathouse, I felt something brush past my face. Not again! This time it didn’t feel like weeds. It felt more like a fish tail. I scrambled up onto the boathouse floor. Sam was already making his way to the shelves on the far wall.
I looked down at the water. I swore there was something following me. That feathery thing brushing across my face. I was sure it was attached to—
“Aha!” Sam said, making me jump. He reached up to a shelf and pulled down his soccer ball.
“Hey, check this place out,” I said, moving away from the water. A desk sat against one wall. Above it were photos of Mrs. Wilson, taken from all around the world. A bookshelf sat against another wall, with titles like Treasures of the Ancient World and Kessler’s Guide to Mythical Creatures. There was even a book called A History of Buffalo Pound Lake. But the coolest of all was on her desk—several large shiny scales, as big as my hand.
The boards creaked outside the boathouse door. I held a finger to my lips. If the old lady caught us, we were dead. I tiptoed back to the water. But before I could jump in, something moved below the surface.
The boathouse door swung open. Mrs. Wilson stood there, holding on tightly to Bug’s arm. She pulled him inside the boathouse, closing the door behind them.
“I’ve caught you red-handed, Macy Kramer!” she said. “Now give me back my shell!”
Her shell? Did she mean the one we’d found the day before? “We don’t have your shell,” I said.
“I know it was you,” she said, pointing her finger at me. “I found the broken glass yesterday, and now my shell is missing. I also know you returned to the scene of the crime last night.”
She pointed to the ball in Sam’s hands, proof of our failed adventure.
“But she’s telling the truth!” Bug cried. “We don’t have the shell.”
A splash of water, followed by a deep growl, made me jump again. I spun around and found a strange creature staring up at me from the water. Green scales covered its body, spiky fins stuck out from its head, and its wide smile revealed a row of sharp teeth.
All my fears about monsters in the lake were true!
Chapter Six
“They aren’t lying, Joy,” the creature said, pulling itself from the water onto the edge of the dock. I noticed that it had a large fish tail instead of legs. “I checked their pockets.”
“Are you a—” I couldn’t finish. I was in shock. A lake creature covered in scales sat in front of me.
“A mermaid?” it asked. Its green scales reflected tiny lights all over the boathouse.
“It was you,” I said, “wasn’t it? You’re the one who helped me onto the dock last night.”
“You’re welcome,” the mermaid said, winking at me.
“Whoa!” Sam said. “Wait a minute. You’re saying you’re a real mermaid?”
“ That’s—impossible,” I said. “This is a freshwater lake. It isn’t even that deep. How can you survive?”
“With the help of friends.” The mermaid nodded at Joy.
I turned toward Mrs. Wilson. “You? But you don’t even like other people in your yard, let alone near your boathouse.”
Joy huffed. “What I don’t like is people smashing glass on my beach or breaking into my boathouse. And don’t think I haven’t heard what you kids call me. I have a name, you know.”
“Yes, Mrs. Wilson,” I said, looking down at my sneakers.
She leaned in so close I could have counted the wrinkles on her face. And there were a lot. She surprised me with what she said next. “Perhaps there’s hope for you after all. You can call me Joy.”
I shook my head. This was just too much to take in. Old Lady Wilson—Joy—was secretly hiding a mermaid in her boathouse! And she was being nice to me!
“I have a name too,” said the mermaid. “It’s MerKay.”
“Why doesn’t anyone else know you exist?” I asked.
“Watch this,” MerKay said. Her scales shimmered and changed color until finally she was the same shade of brown as the inside of the boathouse.
“It’s easy to hide when no one is looking for you,” she said.
“I’ve been trying to get MerKay home,” Joy said. “But it’s been tricky.”
“The Beast kidnapped me,” MerKay said. “Snatched me right out of the ocean and brought me here. I was kept captive in a large moving tank, surrounded by creatures unlike anything I’d ever seen before.”
“So what’s keeping you here now?” I asked. “Why not just get Old—I mean, Joy to take you home?”
“It’s not that easy,” MerKay said. “The Beast took my shell when he caught me. I need that shell to find my family again.” She looked down for a moment. I realized she wasn’t a monster at all.
“When I escaped the Beast,” MerKay continued, “I tried to tak
e my shell back, but it fell and broke into two pieces. I only had time to grab one before I escaped into the lake.”
“I kept that piece in a bottle tied up under my dock,” Joy said. “But the rope must have snapped. I didn’t even realize it was missing until I found the broken glass on the shore.”
“Macy found a shell in a bottle yesterday,” Bug said. “But it was missing a piece.”
“That’s my shell!” Joy said. “Where is it now?”
I hesitated. “Um—it’s at the Trove.”
“We’ll get it back for you,” Sam added.
“I can’t let you leave until you swear you won’t reveal our secret,” Joy said. “MerKay’s survival depends on it.”
“I swear,” Sam said, holding his hand in the air.
“Mom says we shouldn’t swear,” Bug said. “But I promise not to tell anyone. I promise!”
But I hesitated. This was the kind of treasure I’d been looking for all summer. A real live mermaid. Not a single place on Earth could say they had one. A mermaid would put our little lake on the map as a top tourist spot. Tourist money meant more jobs. Would Mom want to move away if we could be famous? We could stay at the lake forever!
“Come on, Macy,” Bug said, looking up at me. “We need to help the shiny lady.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t about Bug’s comment.
I bit my lip. I knew what the right thing to do was. Why was it so hard? I dug into my backpack and pulled out my most prized possession, my treasure-hunting handbook. Putting my hand on the cover, I said, “I swear on all that a treasure hunter holds dear to do everything I can to protect MerKay.”
Joy opened the door to the boathouse and allowed us to pass. The three of us ran all the way to the Trove. We had found a real mermaid!
When we got to the store, the Closed sign was hanging in the window. I knocked on the door. No one answered. I could see the Captain’s old pickup truck parked along the side. Maybe he was still here.
“Let’s look around back,” Sam said.
The store backed onto a small beach with a boat dock known for its diving board, which looked like a pirate’s gangplank. When the Captain had taken over the store, he’d closed the dock to the public, roping it off so no one could swim there.
Finders Keepers Page 2
