The Tantalizing Tale of Grace Minnaugh

by Kaltman, Alice;

  Mr. Shotz cleared his throat and straightened his gray bow tie. “Well, let’s have a look-see, why don’t we.” He checked Grace’s eyes, heartbeat, temperature, and blood pressure. After he’d finished his examination, he turned to Ms. Karp and said, “She seems fine, Amelia. But in any case, we need to call her parents and give them a full report.” Grace panicked. Her parents? No way. This whole fainting thing would open up a giant can of worms. But Shotz wasn’t done. “And for this week, at least, no more swimming for P.E.”

  Thank you, Mr. Tin Man, thought Grace.

  After the teachers left, Tanya asked, “So why did you go mental about swimming, anyway?”

  A knock on the door saved Grace from responding. A familiar face poked around the edge of the door.

  “Alfie!” cried Grace. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard you fainted, so I got permission to leave math to check up on you,” Alfie said. “Hey, cuz,” he said, grinning at Tanya. “What are you doing here?”

  Grace was shocked. “Cuz? You two are cousins?”

  “Yup. Our moms are sisters,” said Tanya. “I am in Grace’s P.E. class, Alphonse DaCosta, and I helped bring her to the nurse after she fainted.”

  “Alphonse! That’s quite a name, Alfie,” Grace grinned.

  The tips of Alfie’s ears turned noticeably red. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep calling me Alfie in public. I get teased enough as it is.”

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Grace reassured him. If only you knew how good I am at keeping secrets, she thought.

  “So how are you, anyway?” Alfie asked.

  “I’m fine, Alfie, really. I skipped breakfast this morning. I am sure that is all it was.”

  “Well, at least it’s not a brain tumor or something. Everyone’s talking about how the new girl passed out on the pool deck. It’s the biggest news since Hudson Frymier was bonked on the head with Mike Ballou’s lacrosse stick and got thirty-seven stitches.”

  Great, thought Grace. Just what I need. More attention for being a loser.

  Mr. Shotz and Ms. Karp returned and found Alfie wedged next to Tanya at the foot of Grace’s cot.

  “Alfie, what are you doing in here?” asked Mr. Shotz. “Do you need a puff from your asthma inhaler or some of your allergy medication?”

  “No, I was just checking up on Grace. We’re friends.”

  “Well, no worries. She’s okie dokie,” Ms. Karp assured him, shooing the cousins off the cot with her no-nonsense clap. “Chop, chop. Back to class, both of you. The party’s over.”

  “Later ’gator.” Alfie waved and slipped out the door.

  “Ciao, Gracie,” Tanya said with a smile before following Alfie out of the office.

  Mr. Shotz turned his attention to Grace. “I finally got through to your father, Grace. He’s right in the middle of a sensitive experiment at the university. He tried to reach your mother but I’m afraid he has been unable to locate her. He is going to keep trying.”

  Typical of the La Toya Minerva, thought Grace. The Ohio Minerva would’ve been here at the school already, scooping Grace up in her arms, stroking her cheek, and murmuring soothing words, or at least been at home, sitting on the couch, eating Cap’n Crunch with the phone nearby. The La Toya Minerva, however, was always rushing off to the art gallery or to a new exhibit; or she was closeted in the studio, painting up a storm; or she could be found taking solo strolls on the beach for “artistic inspiration.”

  “One way or another, your dad promised that either he or your mother would be home by three,” Mr. Shotz continued.

  How humiliating, thought Grace. Dad doesn’t even know where his own wife is. Mr. Shotz and Ms. Karp probably think I would be better off raised by wolves.

  “We all agreed that you could finish out the school day and then go directly home,” Mr. Shotz continued, “but if you feel light-headed, you need to come straight back to my office, understand?”

  “Got it,” Grace nodded. “Thank you so much.” At least she would have the rest of the school day to conjure up a not-too-bogus excuse to give her parents about her fainting spell.

  “Now, get dressed and back to class. Tanya brought your belongings from the locker room for you.” Nurse Shotz deposited Grace’s clothes on the foot of her cot and left the room, leaving Grace and Ms. Karp alone.

  “I need to get back to class,” Ms. Karp told her, “but I wanted to remind you of what I told you when we first met at the dolphin pool. Discretion is key. Strut, or rather, swim your stuff, honey, but make sure you’re doing it in the right place at the right time.” Before Grace could reply, Ms. Karp was gone.

  Grace got up from the cot, feeling a bit wobbly. She took off the hateful blue bathing suit and put on her regular clothes. She had never fainted before, and she didn’t want to make a habit of it. She would have to figure out a better way to skip swim class for good. Low blood sugar? Skin rashes? Swimophobia? She didn’t think that “fainting at the sight of water” would cut it a second time. She laced up her Trail Blazers and walked out of the office. Alfie and Tanya waited outside the door.

  “You guys waited for me!” Grace cried happily.

  “Of course, we did,” Tanya said. “We couldn’t leave you to walk down these halls without an escort after your ordeal.”

  Grace beamed as she sauntered along between her two new friends. Her life might be getting more complicated, but at least with the DaCosta cousins around it was also getting more fun.

  Chapter Sixteen: Mother, May I?

  “Gracie, are you all right? I was frantic! I just got home and talked to Dad at the lab. He said you fainted at school. In the pool? What exactly happened?” Minerva enveloped Grace in a hug before she even had the chance to shrug off her backpack.

  “Where were you, anyhow?” Grace asked, her voice muffled against Minerva’s shoulder, damp from her wet hair. “Were you swimming?”

  “No. No swimming. I was at the gallery. Daniel Smeltzer and I are in the planning stages for my exhibition at Smeltzer Fine Arts this spring.”

  Smelly Guy and his stupid gallery strike again, thought Grace. “It would’ve been nice if you’d told someone,” she grumbled. “It sounds like Dad didn’t even know where you were.”

  “I told your father where I was going this morning. He must’ve forgotten.”

  “Why don’t you just get a cell phone like everyone else, so your ailing children can find you?”

  “Why would I need one of those potentially brain-frying cell phones when there are plenty of land lines about?” Minerva replied.

  “Ah, news flash, Mom. There aren’t many land lines around anymore.”

  “Tell me what happened at the pool, Grace.”

  “Um...I don’t know,” Grace mumbled. What could she say? Once I realized the school’s seawater pool would presto change-o Grace-o into a mermaid, I fainted from fear of exposure? Nah. That wouldn’t go over too well. So instead, Grace said, “I just sort of went kerplop. Maybe I’m allergic to ugly blue tank suits or something. But I’m fine now. I’ve never felt better.” Grace skipped around the entryway. “See? More energy than ever.”

  “Then why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?” Minerva demanded.

  “Well, I feel the same way about you,” Grace said.

  “What are you talking about?” Minerva asked.

  Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem, well, different.”

  “Different better? Or different worse?” Minerva smiled.

  “Well, there’s all the smiling, painting, singing, and walking-on-the-beach stuff,” Grace replied. “So I guess different better in most ways, but you do still seem sort of weird.”

  “Weird,” Minerva laughed. “Well, that’s better than boring, I suppose. But seriously, Grace, when you’re ready to tell me about what happene
d at school, I’m all ears. Meanwhile, there’s dinner to get started.”

  Grace followed Minerva into the kitchen, dragging her feet. “I wish you didn’t have to go up to Los Angeles all the time,” Grace blurted out.

  Minerva stood in front of the open fridge, a bunch of kale in one hand and a tomato in the other. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said over her shoulder. “I know I have been gone a lot. After my exhibition, though, I’ll be home more.” With one arm, Minerva drew Grace into a hug and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Mom, are you using some kind of new shampoo?” Grace asked. “Your hair smells different.”

  “No,” Minerva replied. “But tell me this, Grace Minnaugh, what are you not telling me about what really happened at school?”

  It took every ounce of restraint Grace had not to spill her fishy beans. She could only manage to keep her secret by blabbing on and on about some other matter entirely. “Hey, Mom, did you know that La Toya Middle used to be some fancy-schmantzy spa way back in the dark ages? That’s why it looks so un-schooly. And get this. The pool is still a saltwater pool. They fill it right out of the ocean.”

  Minerva’s mouth dropped opened and then closed. “Fancy spa...saltwater pool, eh?” she said. “Well, that’s quite unusual. Did anything happen to you? In the water, I mean? Did you have a reaction of any kind?”

  There it was again—her mom’s annoying algae phobia. “No. Nada. Nothing happened in the pool, Mom. I fainted out of the water, so you can relax.”

  “Just take it easy for the rest of the afternoon, okay? Maybe watch some TV. Read a book. Or get started on your homework,” Minerva said, her voice uncharacteristically flustered. Clearly, her mom was still worried about some kind of algae reaction from her episode at the pool, Grace thought. “Oh, and a package came for you this afternoon. I left it on your bed.”

  Grace grabbed her backpack from the hall and went to her room. On her bed lay the package in brown postage paper. Grace ripped off the brown paper to discover violet wrapping paper underneath. AMAZING GRACE was written in fancy purple script on an envelope taped to the gift. The note inside read:

  Dear Grace,

  Well hell’s bells! That was quite the letter you sent me. I had to stay plopped in my chair for a good half hour after I finished reading it to recover. A mermaid! Now isn’t that something. And it sounds like those dolphins at the DIP had you pegged as a kindred species from the get-go! But do be careful, Grace dear, swimming in the ocean all by yourself. It is one thing to avoid dangers you know as a girl—stranger danger, street-crossing danger, drugs and alcohol, poisonous snakes, lions, tigers, and bears…oh my!—but creatures of the deep may pose a whole other threat to you.

  It must be hard keeping this a secret from your parents. Are you sure that is a good idea? Maybe they would be more understanding than you think and would never let you become a circus freak. Keep in mind, too, that sooner or later, your parents will find out. And maybe it would be better if you just told them.

  Your new friend Alfie sounds like a wonderful pal. I wish I could skeedaddle out there and meet him, tell him how lucky he is to have met you. It must be hard keeping your mermaid life secret from a good new friend. Perhaps he’d be more open-minded than you think. If he’s truly a pal, he’ll accept you warts and all. Though in your case, it might make more sense to say he’ll accept you fish scales and all? But the most important thing is for you to accept yourself, Grace, and don’t feel ashamed of being a wonderful, special, and powerful mer-girl. I say, phooey! Let people stare if they want! As long as inside, you know, everything about you is right as rain.

  Lastly, thank you so much for that lovely purple stone. At first I couldn’t decide where to put it, and then—eureka! It came to me. Your wonderful gift now resides at the bottom of Nellie’s fishbowl, right next to the mermaid figurine. Quite fitting, as it turns out! It shimmers and sparkles all the time and makes me smile whenever I walk by. Nellie is beside herself with Betta splendens joy.

  Now, you didn’t think you could get away with sending me a gift without me sending one back in return, did you? You are now the proud owner of my first completed project from ceramics class. I don’t think it will win any awards, but I hope you like it and can put it to good use.

  Send more news soon,

  Your friend,

  Mrs. S.

  Grace carefully unwrapped the object. It was a bowl, lopsided and wobbly, and coated in an uneven purple glaze. Carved into the outer sides were four figures that looked as if a caveman had scribbled them on the walls of a prehistoric cave—a fish, a dog, a girl with corkscrew curls, and an old lady holding a cane. It was the most beautiful bowl Grace had ever seen.

  Chapter Seventeen: “Seafaring Legends of California”

  Grace was gut-punched with sadness when she first entered Alfie’s house one Friday after school. The place had an empty, forlorn feeling, as if nobody lived there; or if someone did, they didn’t really care about the place. The few pieces of furniture, covered in scratchy-looking gray wool, were drab and institutional, as if they belonged in a dentist’s office rather than a home. There were no photos or paintings on the walls, no knick-knacks on the bookshelves, and no rugs on the floor. Open cartons of take-out food had been left on the coffee table, and the living room reeked of soy sauce and garlic.

  But Alfie’s room, Grace was happy to see, was another story. It was as if all the life in the house had been stockpiled into his tiny retreat. The walls were covered with posters of tall ships, geological maps, nautical flags, and tide charts. The bedspread was printed with anchors and fancy knots. Alfie’s bookshelf was stuffed to capacity with books on famous shipwrecks, maritime navigation, pirate lore, and brainiac-type textbooks. An impressive comic collection overflowed from his bedside shelf, and the floor and dresser were covered with half-finished boat models and other contraptions built out of discarded machine parts and household objects. It was exactly the kind of zany room Grace loved, and it was so Alfie.

  Grace was dying to pick Alfie’s brain about the S LLY M E ship. Alfie would go crazy over the wreck, for sure, but Grace still hadn’t figured out how to broach the subject. Instead, she sat in Alfie’s revolving desk chair, spinning herself around in circles and focusing on land-based concerns.

  “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s the deal with Tanya and Christi, anyway? Your cousin is so nice. Why does she hang out with such a witch?”

  Alfie put aside the Seafaring Legends of California he’d been thumbing through. “It’s a long story,” he said. “There’s this filthy rich Brazilian dude named Mantega. He has gardens around his estate in Rio that are super famous all over Brazil. My uncle Rodrigo, Tanya’s dad, designed the gardens. Tanya’s whole family used to live on Mantega’s estate. Aunt Bea ran Mantega’s household and Uncle Rodrigo kept the famous gardens. About eight years ago, Christi’s parents visited Mantega’s estate. They saw Rodrigo’s gardens, tasted Aunt Bea’s food, and that was it. The Worthingtons made my aunt and uncle an offer they couldn’t refuse. Uncle Rodrigo and Aunt Beatriz moved here to work on the Worthington villa up on Amalfi Drive. Then last year Mr. Worthington set up Uncle Rodrigo with his own landscaping business. He’s his own boss now.”

  “That was nice of Mr. Worthington,” Grace said.

  “Worthington isn’t a bad guy. He likes to help people along. It’s like his mission or something. That’s the whole idea behind the Worthington Foundation. Spread the wealth, do good deeds. That sort of thing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like Christi inherited his generous spirit.”

  “Christi used to be much nicer. When Tanya first came to La Toya, she didn’t speak any English, and most of the kids made fun of her. Christi was the only other person who would hang out with her besides me. The three of us had this one game we used to play in my family’s rowboat called Pockmarked Pete and the Pirate Princesses. It was really fun.”

&
nbsp; “You were Pete?”

  “Actually, no,” Alfie stammered, turning red. “That was Christi. She was a little bossy back then, but nothing like the horror show she’s been since all that cliquey girl stuff started in fifth grade.”

  Grace knew about fifth-grade-cliquey-girl stuff. In Floral Park, there had been “cool” girls and “not-cool” girls. Girls she had played blocks with in kindergarten began carrying little purses to school and ignoring her at recess. Girls who used to make mud pies with Grace after rainstorms would giggle and point at her frizzy hair. It made no sense to Grace at all.

  Grace understood how tough it must have been for Tanya to move to La Toya at such a young age. It was brutal enough for Grace, being the new kid in middle school, and she spoke English. It made sense that Tanya would remain loyal to Christi once the fifth-grade cool/not-cool factor kicked in.

  “Hey, check this out,” Alfie exclaimed, pointing to a page in Seafaring Legends of California, which he had again picked up. “My dad used to tell me stories about this ship when I was a little kid. The Sally Mae, the missing jewel of the Gold Rush clippers. Isn’t she beautiful?” sighed Alfie.

  Sally Mae! Grace leapt from her chair to the bed beside Alfie, peering over his shoulder, her heart suddenly racing in her chest. On the page, she saw a glossy painting of the bright and majestic Sally Mae, with billowing white sails at full mast. Of course, the ship looked very different now—a tattered and broken hulk that rested at the bottom of the sea, its sails gone, and letters missing from its name. But Grace was one hundred percent sure that it was the same boat as the one she had visited during her early morning swim.

  “Sure, it is super-cool,” Grace breathed, mesmerized by the painting, her whole body buzzing. “Wh…what does the book say about it?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  Alfie pushed his glasses up on his nose and read: