by D. G. Driver
We all laughed.
“And the shower?” I asked. “I must take one now before I accidentally sit on something.”
“Follow me.” Carter turned to my dad. “Why don’t you go sit in the kitchen down that hall, Mr. Sawfeather. I’ll get some coffee going and pull out the computer.”
“Sounds great.” My dad shuffled down the shiny wood floor in his socks.
Carter grabbed my hand and led me upstairs.
It turned out that there were three bedrooms upstairs, a laundry room, and an entertainment room with a huge flat screen TV and all the gadgets one could wish for. Haley would be in tech-geek heaven if she saw this place. I hoped I’d have a chance to bring her here sometime.
“I can see why the dorm wouldn’t compare,” I told him.
“You think?” he said.
He opened the door to his own bedroom and led me inside. It was fairly neat, which surprised me a little. I won’t say everything was in its perfect place, but nothing was lying where it shouldn’t. No underwear on the floor or socks on the pillowcases. I was also surprised to find that he didn’t have any posters on his wall of models, sports players, or even rock-and-roll bands. Instead, he had some really interesting abstract splatter color paintings in frames. Like fake Pollock pieces.
“Did your dad decorate your room, too?” I asked.
Carter laughed. “No,” he said. “I actually put all this together. The paintings are all by animals. There are two painted by a dolphin down in Florida and one is painted by an elephant.”
“You’re kidding!” I said.
“Not one bit,” he told me, straightening one. “I got them on vacations. I thought they were really cool. I still do, actually. I can’t even paint that well, and I have hands.” He pointed to a door on the far side of the double bed. “The bathroom’s there. It’s between the two bedrooms. There are clean towels in the cabinet.” I must have looked uncomfortable, because he headed for his dresser drawers and kept talking. “Is your school dress code or wear-anything-you-want?”
“Dress code, actually,” I said and winced. “It’s not a strict uniform, but we have to wear collared shirts and either tan or navy pants or skirts. I suppose I could just wear a pair of your sweats, and you could swing me by my house on the way...”
“Nah!” Carter said. “I’ve got what you need. These are a little snug on me.” Carter pulled out a collar shirt and a plain navy-colored sweatshirt to go over it. “No need to rush more than we have to.” As he handed the clothes to me, he added, “I’m sure my mom’s got a skirt or some pants that’ll fit you. She’s tall like you. Not quite as thin, but she tries. Yoga and Pilates once a week.”
“She won’t mind?” I asked.
He shook his head. “You’re not going to rescue any more mythical creatures covered in oil, are you?”
“No,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m just tackling the Student Council at school. A totally different kind of messy situation.”
“I know what you’re talking about.”
Sure he did, I thought. His looks. His house. Carter had probably been president of his school’s Student Council.
“Khaki would be best, if she has it,” I suggested.
“I’ll see what I can find.” He led me to the bathroom. “Steam it up real good so I can come in here to drop the clothes off.”
I tried to laugh in a relaxed way, but it came out a little choked as he closed the door behind him. The bathroom was as lovely as everything else in the house, and I had to take a minute to touch all the pretty handles before turning on the water faucet in the shower. As the water heated up, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Oh, Heavens! Is that what I’d looked like all morning? Well, that ruled out his wink as being anything other than pity.
I quickly let down my hair and shed my clothes. I balled everything up as tight as I could and placed it on a tile by the toilet where the oil and sand that rubbed off it could be cleaned up easily.
He showered with Axe shampoo and soap, so I’d smell like a boy all day. It didn’t bother me too much. I was going to smell like a really hot, exceptionally cool college guy. And that was way better than smelling like fish and oil. The hot water stung the scrape on my leg that I’d all but forgotten about. It took a fair bit of scrubbing to get the oil off my arms and face, too.
At some point he snuck in to put some slacks on the sink counter, but I didn’t hear or see him. He must have been very fast. It was possible that he only reached his arm in and didn’t come in the bathroom at all. I know it was another act of his amazing chivalry, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly bummed out that he didn’t try to peek.
Twenty minutes later I was clean, dressed in a combination of his and his mother’s clothes, and headed back down the stairs to find Carter and my dad in the kitchen. All the digital pictures had been uploaded, and they had figured out how to upload the video footage too. They put the video in two separate files. One for the regular oil spill information, another for the mermaid discovery. Now Dad was typing up a press release statement.
He was talking to Carter when I walked in. “My only problem now is that all my contacts are on my computer at home. How do I get these sent out?”
Since the mermaid rescue had taken so long, they had precious little time left to get these images e-mailed to every news correspondent they could think of before Affron got its own press releases out debunking everything Dad wanted them to know.
“Let’s call Mom,” I suggested. “Have her email the contacts. She has them all with her on her laptop.”
“Of course, Genius,” he said. “I suppose I would have thought of that eventually, but it’s nice to have you young, brainy people around to think for me.”
He got out his cell phone and dialed my mom. I gestured to the coffee cups on the table. “Any of that left? I’m not a big coffee fan, but I think it might help.”
“I’ll pour you a cup,” Carter said and dashed over to the coffee machine. “Did you enjoy your shower? You look great.”
I smiled. I sure felt a whole lot better than I had. I’d like to really clean up for him sometime: put on some make-up and a dress, clips in my hair. However, just letting him know that I don’t always stink and look like I’ve been dragged under a boat was good for the moment.
“Hey, honey, hi!” my dad said into the phone, his voice betraying his energy level.
Carter gestured to the creamer and sugar. I nodded, and he sweetened my coffee up for me.
“You near your computer?” my dad asked my mom while Carter handed me the hot mug. “I need you to email me our press contact list.” There was a long pause, and I could hear Mom’s voice coming out of the phone. “Look, something happened this morning that slowed us up a bit.” Another long pause. “I know it’s important to get this out right away, honey,” my dad said patiently. “I’ve been doing this a while too.” Pause. “Yes, she’s with me.” Pause. Dad got up then and moved away from us. I could still hear the sharpness of my mom’s voice from across the room. “Let’s not get into that right now,” Dad said as calmly as he could. “There are other things to discuss.”
My dad put the phone on his shoulder and gestured to the laptop. “Hey Carter, can you help June email the video to her mother?”
This only took a moment for us to accomplish on his high-speed computer. It gave me a silly thrill to see it zip off so fast. I’d been begging my dad to let us get high speed, but he insists on dial-up. When I actually need to do stuff online I either go to Haley’s house or take my laptop down to a coffee house and work off their WiFi.
Apparently Mom was badgering Dad with a bunch of questions about the oil spill. He was giving her all kinds of non-committal responses as he waited for her to get the video. When she finally got the video a couple minutes later, my dad went silent as he let her watch it.
A couple minutes clicked past.
Then my dad said simply to her, “I know.”
All we could hear were excited chirps from my
mother’s voice as she went through her own version of the shock phase everyone else had experienced. Finally Dad interrupted her to say, “One of them is still alive, down at the rescue center. The other two died.”
I couldn’t take this one-sided conversation anymore. I had to hear what my mother was saying, so I got up and grabbed the phone. I clicked the speakerphone button and put the phone on the kitchen table. My mom was going on about what an amazing discovery this was and how it could change everything.
“How, Mom? How could it change everything?” I asked.
I heard her take in a sharp breath. It couldn’t have been clearer to my ears that Mom didn’t want to talk to me right then. Still, she answered. “Because, June, if people know that there are people living in the ocean, they will be more interested in protecting them.”
“But they aren’t people, Mom,” I said. “They’re fish that look kind of, remotely, like people. They don’t even seem to be mammals. They don’t breathe air. They don’t talk.”
“Do they think?” my mom asked. “Could you tell if they think?”
I hesitated. My mom was so worked up about all this that she might blow everything out of proportion. I thought the mermaid was trying to communicate with me, but I’m not convinced that meant she had clear thoughts like a person does.
My father told her his thoughts on it. “The mermaid seemed to make sounds in response to June’s talking to her. Her eyes expressed emotions. I’m not sure she could think any more than a dog or a cat, but she seemed desirous of expressing herself.”
“Well, there you go,” my mom said. “Sentient life in the ocean that happen to look like beautiful silver women. We’ve got the key to bringing the world together to save ocean life. Affron won’t have a chance against this. Everyone will see them as the inhumane bastards they are. We’ve got to let the public know.”
That’s when Carter cleared his throat and said, “No.”
“Who’s that?” Mom asked.
“That’s Carter,” I said. “He’s letting us use his computer.”
“He knows all about this?”
“Mrs. Sawfeather,” Carter said, “I work at the marine rescue center with Dr. Schneider. I helped with the rescue this morning.”
My mom sounded impatient. “How many people know about this?”
My dad answered. “Just us and Carl.”
That seemed to appease my mom, because she didn’t say anything else about that. “What were you trying to say, Carter?”
He cleared his throat again. I guess my mom made him nervous. She has a way of doing that. It’s part of her magical lawyer powers.
“We don’t know enough about the mermaids yet. We might cause more damage to them if we leak information too soon. We’ve got to wait.”
“Wait for what?” my mom asked. “Wait for more of them to wash up on the beaches, dying from oil spills?”
“I agree, Mom. I just don’t think it’s the right move yet, either.”
My dad spoke then. “Actually, Natalie, I think the kids are right. Let’s hold off a little on this. Let’s wait until Carl can tell us more about them.”
Mom let out a long sigh over the phone line. “I don’t want to sit on this too long.”
“Understood,” my dad said.
“I’ll be home in a couple days. June? You still there?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“You are not off the hook. We will be talking as soon as I get home.”
“Yes, Mom.”
My eyes shot over to Carter, and he politely glanced away. Thanks to Mom, he probably figured I was in trouble for something. I reached over and clicked off the speakerphone then handed the phone back to Dad. I had nothing left to say to my mother at that point. Why bother? Everything I said from now on was going to go in one ear and out the other. My mom had decided that I was a lost cause. After all the work I’d done that morning, you’d think I’d get some forgiveness. Why did I even bother?
Carter sensed my agitation. “You about ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, sitting down in front of the laptop. “Just let me get these pictures attached to the email, so my dad can send them out while we’re gone.”
“I’ve already done it,” Carter said. “Get your stuff and let’s get rolling. With any luck you could still make third period.”
And in a flash, all the wonder and excitement of this morning evaporated into another ordinary day.
Chapter Six
As nice as Carter’s house was, his car wasn’t much. It was a used clunker with windows that rattled. He kept it pretty neat, but the floor carpets and seats had stains all over them from the spilled sodas of its previous owners. I felt really uneasy sitting on the stains in his mom’s nice slacks.
Trying not to sound rude, but burning to know, I said, “I take it Mom and Dad didn’t buy you a car for your 16th birthday.”
His face reddened like I’d plugged him into the cigarette lighter. His usually confident grin got real lopsided. “Well... actually, they did.”
“Was it some kind of harsh lesson?” I asked. “You must have been the only kid in your school with a car that cost less than $15,000.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. This is a posh neighborhood. Most kids get pretty cool cars.”
“So what happened?” I pressed. There had to be a reason. My parents wouldn’t get me a car because they want to protect the environment from one more vehicle’s gas emissions. As long as you live in our house, we can share a car, they told me repeatedly. In reality that meant that if I wanted to go anywhere, I needed to ask Haley to drive. I’m not sure why I even got my driver’s license.
But Carter’s parents clearly had money, and they didn’t seem like the kind of people who would share a car with their son for the benefit of the ozone layer. Carter himself appeared to be the perfect son: good-looking, well-spoken, college bound. A parent’s dream teen. So, what was the deal with the clunker car?
Carter chewed on his lip for a moment, then gave in. “My folks did buy me a car—a cool Ford Explorer that was only a year old and low mileage. It was 4-wheel drive and V6. I took it off-roading with some friends my second weekend owning it and destroyed it.”
“Oh no!” I shouted. “You didn’t!”
He grinned sheepishly. “I did. Stupid. My folks informed me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted another car I had to buy it myself.” He lifted his right hand and presented his car like a game show host. “Voila! This is what weekends stocking shelves at the grocery store gets you.”
We laughed about that and joked about parents in general. He never once asked about why my mom was so pissed at me, and I was grateful for that. We didn’t turn on the radio at all because we talked whole ride. I did wind up having to swing by my house after all, because I needed my backpack and I had to change my shoes. I could not face going to school in my nasty boots covered with oil and sand. While home, I quickly changed into my own pants, too, and returned the ones I borrowed to Carter.
“I’m afraid I’ll damage them,” I told him. Of course, I could have changed out of his shirts and didn’t. I know he realized this, too, but he didn’t say anything about it and seemed mildly pleased with me that I kept them on. Returning them was an excuse to see him again.
We arrived at school right about 10:30. I’d missed most of third period, but I would catch fourth if I hurried.
“I’ll pick you up here at 3:00,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. “I can just get a ride home with Haley and wait till Dad gets home later.”
“Your dad will still be out at the beach, and I know you want to get back to our friend in the tank.”
He was absolutely right. Carter was cute and smart and wonderful. But despite his company and the impending lunchtime of school politics, the thought of that poor creature never left my mind. The mermaid needed help, and I wanted to be there with her. The last place I wanted to be was at school.
“Sounds good,” I said. “3:00,
right here.”
I got out and strolled through the front doors of the school.
Or I would have, except the front doors were locked. So, I had to push the office button, which is apparently attached to some kind of truancy alarm. When the doors opened for me to stroll through, I was intercepted by a pissy office attendant who whisked me off to the Vice Principal’s office to explain why I’d ditched school all morning. Because, naturally, with everything going on I had forgotten to have my dad sign an excuse note explaining why I was late for school.
They called him, but they couldn’t get through. I knew he was busy on the phone with reporters trying to convince them that the oil damage to the shoreline of Washington was news—important news—and the public needed to be aware of what was going on. That didn’t matter to the office staff. They were annoyed by my dad, and I heard them muttering to each other about how my dad was “neglectful”, “disrespectful”, and “a bad influence.”
Like usual, I found myself in that really weird state of mind where I hated my dad for not answering the damn phone and sparing me this humiliation, and being so proud of him for the hard work he does. These women led such small lives. They had no idea what was happening down at the coast and that it might actually ruin their next trip to the beach or the fish they were going to eat for dinner one night this month. They really had no idea that there was this silver sea creature with a woman’s torso and giant, sad eyes covered with oil in a tank, only alive because my dad and I found her this morning.
By the time Dad managed to call the school back to verify that, yes, I had been helping him all morning, only five minutes remained until lunchtime.
According to Vice Principal Slater, a heavy-set woman with one of those short porcupine hairdos that has some kind of gel/hairspray product stuck to every individual strand and teeny-tiny eyebrows that had been plucked too much, my dad’s reason for my absence was not an excuse. Vice Principal Slater spoke calmly into the phone. “Mr. Sawfeather, it is important that your daughter be at school. She has missed several days this year because of joining you with your work.” She said “work” like he was having me sort his drug paraphernalia before taking it out on the street to sell from his trunk.
