Real Mermaids Don't Need High Heels

by Helene Boudreau

  That’s it! I rang. My fear of standing up to the Mermish Council was replaced by a seething rage. We need to find a way to get Bridget back to dry land and Petra here to safety and then put a stop to the Mermish Council once and for all.

  Oh, and don’t forget figuring out a way to give mers a say in what goes on around here, Reese said.

  Are you sure we can do all that? Serena asked. Where do we begin?

  Come on, I replied, grasping the handles of Renata’s cart. If this is going to work, we’re gonna need those reinforcements after all.

  • • •

  Thankfully, nobody questioned Reese with his cartful of goods as he swam through all the spacey-eyed mers listening to Dame Council’s one-woman show. It killed me to leave Luke and our new mer friends, and I could tell Serena needed all of her courage to leave her parents tied up at the stake, but we needed a better plan than just rushing the stage.

  But how are we supposed to stop Dame Council? Serena rang quietly beside me. Although it was a tight squeeze, Serena, Petra, and I had managed to cram ourselves into the cart with Bridget until Reese could get us across the town square through the mob of mers. She has everyone under her spell.

  Not everyone, I replied in a low ring. You, me, and Petra, plus Reese and Bridget, can still think for ourselves. And Renata, too.

  But, it’s just the six of us and there are hundreds of them. Serena lifted the edge of our seaweed blanket and scanned the crowd nervously.

  It only seems that way, I replied. Who knows? Dozens more could be in hiding, afraid to disagree with the Council. I have to believe that, given the choice, all those other mers will choose to stand up for what’s right. We just need a better offense to make our point.

  Like in underwater hockey, you mean? Serena asked.

  Exactly like that, I said, squeezing her hand. First we need to figure out how to get the Freshies out of Talisman Lake.

  Serena and I slipped out of the cart once we’d emerged from the other side of the tunnels at the base of the ridge and knew the coast was clear. Then we took turns towing the cart with Bridget and Petra still inside.

  Oh, hey! I rang to Reese as we swam, pointing to his wrist. You still have Luke’s watch.

  Luke had given Reese his diving watch as a souvenir the last time we’d been in the ocean. Eddie had installed a GPS chip in it to keep track of Luke while he was underwater.

  Yes, and it still works. Reese pressed the Indiglo button to make the face of the watch light up.

  Cool. One of these days I’ll teach you how to actually tell time, I joked, but I kept checking over my shoulder as we swam away, avoiding any of the well-traveled routes so we wouldn’t be discovered. Finally, we arrived at Toulouse Point.

  It’s a good thing we’ve been working out for underwater hockey or I might never have made it back to shore, I rang to Serena as I hung on to a huge boulder for a quick rest.

  Underwater hockey? Reese asked with a laugh as he checked on his mom.

  Is that a game? Petra asked as Serena helped her out of the cart, now that we were safely hidden among the boulders.

  Oh, yes, it’s a sport I played with the humans when I was up on land, Serena replied.

  Speaking of ‘on land,’ I need to get back out there to find my dad, I rang.

  You are Webbed Ones, too? Petra asked, her eyes widening as she glanced from Serena to me. Mother told me many times that is only a children’s story.

  I laughed out loud.

  I thought mermaids were only in stories, too, I replied. In fact, I have a whole series of books about mer-girls just like you. I remembered my Emily Windsnap books from Gran’s cottage.

  Books? she asked.

  Where we keep our stories, I replied, rearranging the seaweed around Bridget to make her comfortable.

  Oh yes. Books and televisions—being on land is so different, Serena added. They have skateboards and elections and school. Oh, Jade! she turned to me. We forgot to turn in our Social Studies project!

  We’ve been kind of busy, I rang with a laugh. Honestly, we were in danger of being controlled by an underwater dictatorship and she was worried about passing Social Studies?

  I know, Serena rang, her eyes downcast. But it was my first project, and we worked so hard.

  Let’s just focus on one crisis at a time. Deal? I asked.

  Okay, okay, Serena agreed. What do you have in mind?

  I need to get my dad down to the shore with the Merlin 3000 for Bridget and find Eddie so he can open the lock. My mind was going a mile a minute, trying to ignore the nagging doubts about everything that could go wrong with the plan I was formulating. But first, I need to find a place for me to sprout legs and get some clothes on.

  I scanned the beach.

  My tent, Bridget whispered. She braced a hand against the cart and looked around. It should be somewhere along the shore if it didn’t get washed away. There’s a backpack in it with extra clothes.

  Perfect. Reese, you stay with your mom until I can get help down here for you. Serena—can you stay with Petra until the coast is clear?

  Yes, of course. But are you sure this is all going to work out okay? Serena asked.

  In it to win it, I replied.

  • • •

  It was Friday afternoon by the time I dragged myself up the shore of Port Toulouse Beach. At least I thought it was Friday afternoon. Honestly, I was so tired from being up all night, swimming eleven thousand miles, and starving because I couldn’t bring myself to eat barnacle slugs and seaweed sandwiches that I didn’t care what time or what day it was.

  I’d picked the same spot where Luke and I had first met Reese because the point’s large boulders shielded me from the public beach. The afternoon air burned my throat as I leaned back against one of the rocks, trying to catch my breath.

  I spotted Bridget’s tent a little further down the beach. The tent’s poles leaned at a weird angle, and a bunch of seaweed clumped around the canvas from the tide. I shut my eyes, willing my tail to hurry up and transform into legs despite the pain that shot through me.

  The sun was about two-thirds over me, heading west, so I guessed it was about three o’clock. I tried to focus on the moving clouds to distract myself, then followed the white smoky path of a passing jet high up in the sky, imagining I could just fly out of there and escape. Escape from the pain, from the craziness going on at the bottom of the ocean, from the weirdness between me and Luke about the Fall Folly, and between Cori and me about her mentorship. From myself. My plans. My goals. My doubts.

  Escape from everything. Anything. Anything to keep myself from dwelling on the pain in my lungs and legs.

  Legs!

  I sighed in relief, seeing the goose bumps rise along the skin of my thighs. But my bottom half was barer than a blue jay, so I wasn’t exactly ready for prime time. My Elmo T-shirt was baggy but not that baggy. I poked my head up and over the boulder to make sure there was no one on the beach, then made a mad dash for Bridget’s tent.

  The ashes in the campfire had long since been put out and the tent’s canvas was dry, probably aired out by the wind and afternoon sun, but Bridget’s sleeping bag was still sopping wet. I rifled through a backpack sitting in the corner of the tent. A few protein bars (which I ripped into teeth-first like a hibernating bear), a couple of Band-Aids, a bottle of water, aloe vera cream, a flashlight, ahh…! To my relief, there was an extra set of clothes. Damp clothes, but they’d have to do. Actually, they were pajamas—probably what Bridget had planned to wear on Wednesday night. If she’d gotten through Wednesday night.

  I found Bridget’s sandals underneath the sleeping bag and got dressed quickly, pulling the drawstring of her pajama bottoms to fit me, though the pant legs were about three inches too short.

  They would have to do. Her cell phone was there, too, in the front pouch of the backpack. Somehow it had escaped the tide, but there was only one bar when I flashed it on.

  “Please work, please work, please work…” I chanted
as I stumbled out of the tent, chewing on a protein bar that tasted only mildly better than the insole of a shoe. But the beach’s sand dunes and large rocks blocked the cell phone signal. Typical.

  I broke into a run along the beach and finally arrived at the wooden boardwalk.

  “Three bars. Thank you, Universe.” I dialed Dad’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello! Bridget?” he answered. “Are you okay? Are Jade and Micci with you?”

  “It’s me, Dad.”

  “Oh, Jade! Thank goodness you’re okay! Is Mom with you?”

  “No, as far as I know she’s still in Talisman Lake,” I replied.

  “What about the others?” Dad asked.

  “They’re okay…kinda,” I said as I ran along the boardwalk, trying to keep the phone at my ear. “Look, it’s really hard to explain. Just meet me at the bridge by the canal as soon as you can.”

  “What do you mean ‘it’s hard to explain’? Is everyone okay?” he asked.

  “Everyone is alive but we need the Merlin 3000 at Port Toulouse Beach for Bridget and we need the Freshies’ help to stand a chance against the Mermish Council.”

  “I’m across town and I’ll need to pick up the trailer from home, so it’s going to take me at least half an hour to get to you.”

  “Just hurry! And call Eddie so he can open the boat lock.” Maybe I could get Cori and Trey to help, too. Were they in school? Did they even go to school today? “Darn,” I muttered under my breath. “What time is it?”

  I tried to look on the screen of Bridget’s phone but couldn’t find the time.

  “It’s 3:33. Lucky you, you just missed the final bell,” Dad joked. “Listen, I’m getting in my car right now, and Eddie and I will do our best to get there by four.”

  Four o’clock. Mr. Comeau always left school at about four o’clock. Oh, darn, darn, darn! I thought of Serena and our Social Studies project. We had worked really hard, and it certainly wouldn’t help Serena’s case with Principal Reamer if she didn’t hand in her very first high-school assignment. Plus, I couldn’t really miss handing in any projects, given my track record. Could I make it on time?

  “Change of plans,” I called into the phone. “Meet me at the school. And please swing by Home Depot for a couple dozen sets of earplugs. Use your frequent buyer points if you have to!”

  I ran the whole mile to the school—up along the canal, across the bridge, and down Main Street. And trust me, for someone with legs that were only five minutes old and sandals two sizes too small, this was no easy task.

  A few people coming out of the bank gave me weird looks, but I wasn’t sure if that was because I was wearing lipstick pajama bottoms or because Lainey Chamberlain had been busy spreading the word that Serena and I were mermaids. If that was the case, I expected a National Enquirer photographer to pop out of the bushes any second. Then again, if Lainey was spreading stories that she’d seen two mer-girls in the community pool, it was equally possible that she was being fitted for a white canvas jacket with wrap-around sleeves that attached in the back. With her mom’s sewing skills, she’d be the best-dressed girl on the psych ward.

  I should have asked Dad if Lainey’s discovery had hit the news when I had the chance, but there was no time to think about it. I yanked open the big blue door to the high school and rushed inside. I could hear Ms. Wilma’s office chair’s wheels screech across the floor as I hurried down the hall.

  “Jade, honey?” Ms. Wilma called out from the office. I knew exactly what she wanted. Well, at least I hoped she was looking for Serena’s school registration papers and not an autograph from her first ever mer-girl sighting.

  “Sorry! Emergency! I really need to use the little girls’ room!” I yelled, running past the bulletin board and down a few more hallways before screeching to a stop in front of my locker. I hated to lie, but I didn’t have much time and I was left with no other choice. My hands shook as I turned the combination lock to get our Social Studies project. Finally, the lock clicked and I flung the door open.

  There was a note on my whiteboard.

  I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk.

  Please come home. –Cori

  Along with the note was a beautiful drawing of a girl in a pretty, blue mermaidy dress.

  I looked over my shoulder up and down the hallway, hoping to see Cori, but the hall was deserted. Everyone had already cleared out after the last bell. I looked up at the clock on the wall.

  3:54.

  I had to hurry if I wanted to stand a chance of getting to our Social Studies class before four o’clock.

  I rifled through my books and found our project, then shut my locker door and hightailed it to Mr. Comeau’s classroom. He wasn’t there but, thankfully, his briefcase and keys were still on his desk, which meant he was still in the building. I stashed our project underneath his keys so he wouldn’t miss it.

  Done!

  Serena had better appreciate the fact that I’d run (run!) a whole mile to make sure her first high-school project had been turned in on time. I had to admit that it was a relief to me, too, considering I’d scraped by with only a C minus the year before.

  “Oh!” I nearly ran over Raymond Fresco on my way out of the classroom. He’d been the other name on the ballot for ninth-grade rep. “I’m so sorry—I really should look where I’m going.”

  “No, sorry, it was my fault,” Raymond said. He had an armful of poster board bundled up under his arm. “I was just pulling down my campaign signs. They’re announcing the winners at the dance tomorrow night, but we had to get all the signs down by the end of the day. I noticed Serena wasn’t at school so I took hers down, too. I hope she won’t mind.”

  Raymond searched in his bundle and pulled the edge of one of Serena’s colorful signs to show me.

  “Wow, that was really nice, Raymond.” I realized that during all the time we were underwater leading our crazy mer lives, people were walking around doing normal stuff and leading normal lives. At that moment, I wished very much I were more like Raymond Fresco. “Thanks so much.”

  “Um. You’re welcome.” Raymond looked at me really strangely. “It, er, wasn’t a problem.”

  I stared back, wondering if he’d heard something about me and Serena. But if Serena’s and my secret was out, Raymond would just come out and say it, wouldn’t he?

  Bridget’s phone rang.

  “Sorry, Raymond. I really have got to go!”

  “So, I guess I’ll see you guys at the dance tomorrow night?” Raymond asked. “Tell Serena good luck!”

  “Yeah, sure.” Oh, yeah—the Fall Folly dance. It was so beyond my thoughts that I’d kind of obliterated it from my mind. “Hope to see you there!”

  Raymond waved as I rushed past and answered the phone.

  “Dad.”

  “I’m in the back parking lot,” Dad replied.

  “Be right there.”

  One of the pamphlets for Mr. Chamberlain’s Safe 2 Swim program fluttered to the ground as I ran past the information counter outside the pool office. Not seeing Coach Laurena there was so weird. What was happening with her and Mom in Talisman Lake? How had they made it through last night? If luck was on our side, hopefully I would know that before long.

  “You made it!” I ran to Dad as soon as I got outside.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay.” Dad grabbed me in a hug and swung me around, then stopped to get a good look at me. He plucked something out of my hair. “Did you know you had a razor clam in your hair?”

  “What? Oh.” I patted my head to check if I had anything else in there. Fortunately, no.

  Is that why Raymond had looked at me so weirdly? Maybe he hadn’t been looking at me strangely at all. Maybe I was just going crazy. Gah! I had to get my head together and focus on how to get the Freshies out of Talisman Lake and what exactly we were going to do once we got to the mer village. Wouldn’t I be just as useless underwater as I was before, only this time leading a dozen or so more mers to their doom?
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  It would really help if I could be in two places at once. It was time to call in the fleet.

  “Do you have my cell?” I asked Dad, hoping he’d picked it up from Gran’s coffee table where I’d left it.

  Dad fumbled in his pocket and presented my phone. The battery indicator was red but hopefully it would do.

  I scrolled through my contacts.

  @geeksrule Dad

  fluke1019 Luke

  I found Cori’s number and texted her.

  hurricanejade: hiiii! am ok but going back under h2o. can u and trey take the boat through the canal?

  It took a few seconds for her to answer.

  fashiondiva: omgomg! im so glad ur ok!!! how will we know how to find u???

  I thought of Luke’s diving watch with the GPS chip on Reese’s arm.

  hurricanejade: tell trey to follow fluke1019. he’ll know!

  fashiondiva: ok!!! ps did you see mr chamberlain?

  The battery indicator flashed.

  hurricanejade: um, no? anyway gotta go! l8tr!

  Why would I see Mr. Chamberlain? It’s not like I’d been sitting in my den channel surfing all day.

  “Has there been a press conference or something?” I asked Dad. “Cori said something about seeing Mr. Chamberlain.”

  “Not that I know of,” Dad replied. “I’ve been checking the news all day and no one has been in touch.”

  “Well, whatever. Here, can you hold on to this for me?” I handed my phone back to Dad. “And here’s Bridget’s phone, too.”

  I spotted Coach Laurena’s car in the school parking lot. I remembered how she’d put the underwater hockey equipment in her trunk for our game against Cole Harbor next week. “Just a sec.”

  Thankfully, we lived in a small town because Laurena’s driver-side door was unlocked. I popped her trunk and grabbed the huge equipment bag. If we wanted to stand a chance against those sentries at the other end of the canal, it would help if we were armed.

  Eddie arrived in his truck just then and rolled down his window.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Where are we heading?” he called out.

  “To the canal! Got your keys for the lock?” I asked Eddie as I dumped the equipment bag into the back of his truck.