by D. G. Driver
I smiled at him, but Mrs. Campbell rushed at him, waving her arms like a maniac at the camera, so he didn’t notice me.
“Out! Out!” she screeched. “The news camera needs to be off the school property. I told you on the phone that Juniper Sawfeather is in class.”
“I know what you told me,” he said, “but I need to talk to her now before anyone else gets to her. And don’t try sending someone else. There’s already a blonde girl out on the front steps giving interviews to everyone like she knows something, but she’s not the girl who found the mermaid. I need Miss Sawfeather.”
I stood up. “What blonde kid? Regina?”
Peña waved me off, “Yeah, I think that was her name. Says she’s the voice you hear on the video. Who cares about that? I want the face.”
“She can’t do that!” I said, digging through my backpack to find my phone. “She has no business talking to reporters.”
“That’s what I say,” Peña agreed. Then he turned back to Mrs. Campbell, “So, what’s it going to be? Call her out of class, or my team is going from room to room looking for her.” He pointed at the door, and the camera guy swiveled as though he were going to take off running.
“Hold it! Hang on!” Mrs. Campbell was frantic. “Wait!”
That was finally enough noise to pull Mrs. Slater out of her office. Naturally, her beady eyes went straight to me and not to the actual problem. And, of course, right at that moment I had freed my phone and had it square in front of my nose.
“Juniper Sawfeather, I said no cell phone! Hand it over!” She put out her hand.
Juarez Peña’s head snapped so fast I’m surprised he didn’t get a crick in his neck. He leapt over the receptionist’s desk and got to Mrs. Slater’s side before she had a chance to put together what was going on. “Did you say Juniper Sawfeather? Is THIS Juniper Sawfeather?” Then he took in my long, black hair and dark complexion. “Of course you are. Who else would you be?” He leaned in to me and handed me a business card. “You are the spitting image of your father. He’s a friend of mine.”
Sort of, I amended in my head.
“Yeah, I’m Juniper...” I tried to get out before Mrs. Slater’s hand popped on top of my lips to stop any further noise.
“That is none of your concern, and may I add that you are trespassing.”
Peña snapped at the cameraman, who had to maneuver around the furniture rather than leap like a gazelle. His camera was on his shoulder, the red light on.
“Miss Sawfeather, the video suggests that you found the mermaids at Grayland Beach, is that correct? If so, where are the mermaids now?”
Mrs. Slater stepped between Peña and the cameraman, so the back of her spiky hairdo filled the shot. “There is no point in interviewing her, Mr. Peña. She is a liar. This mermaid story of hers is just a trick and a lie and nothing you need to report. She is suspended for truancy, and you will have to go find another ridiculous tale to chase somewhere else.”
Peña nodded at the imposing woman, but he didn’t budge. He simply asked me, in a quieter voice that gave me the impression that he as a person, not a reporter, really wanted to know, “Are they real? Is this a lie?”
“Mr. Peña!” Mrs. Slater bellowed. “You will leave now or I will call the police! Mrs. Campbell, get the police on the phone. I want all the reporters off the school property now.”
He started to back up, but he kept his face toward me as he moved. A huge smile crossed his face. Although I didn’t answer him, something about my expression must have convinced him, because he looked so excited his eyes were slightly teary. “I knew it. I just knew it.” Mrs. Slater pushed him toward the door, but he poked his head in one last time to say, “When you get out of school, call me at Channel 4 News. We’ll give you and your parents an exclusive!” Mrs. Slater slammed the door so fast it nearly cut off Peña’s fingers.
Mrs. Campbell held the receiver up toward Mrs. Slater. “I’ve got the police on the phone. What do you want me to tell them?”
“To get their butts over here and get these reporters off our front steps.” She turned to the poor volunteer mom, who actually flinched as though the Vice Principal might strike her. “And would you get Regina in here. I am about done with her. I don’t care how popular she thinks she is, she does not get to break school rules just for a chance to be on TV.” The poor little woman hustled out of the front office without a word.
“The policeman says that they can move the reporters off the steps, but all they’ll do is stand in the street out front, which is public property, and obstruct traffic. He says the best thing to do is to just let Juniper go out there and talk to them and get it over with.”
“Give me that phone,” Mrs. Slater said, grabbing it from the meek lady’s hand. She immediately began yelling at the poor dispatch person. I used that moment to sit back in my tiny desk and pop off a text to my dad about what was going on and added the warning that I might lose my phone at any minute.
A burst of noise exploded in the hallway of the school so loud it penetrated the glass walls of the office as the doors opened. In walked the volunteer, Regina, and Principal Mains. The principal patted the air in front of them for the reporters to calm down and then closed the door behind him. A moment later he stepped into the front office.
“What is going on out there?”
Mrs. Slater hung up the phone. “I have the police coming.”
He noticed me in the back corner and then said to Mrs. Campbell, ignoring the Vice Principal, “Would you call the parents of these girls please? They need to come and escort their daughters out of here and decide what they are going to do about all this press outside.”
I stood up and cleared my throat. “My mom’s probably on a plane, and my dad’s probably in the middle of his own mess at the beach. Could someone else pick me up and take me to him?”
Mr. Mains’s forehead creased as he considered that.
“I’ve got my own car,” Regina said.
“You two will never get to it,” he said. He paused for a moment as he considered the problem. “Let’s get one of your friends who has a car here to go get it and meet you both at the cafeteria entrance. I’ll escort you there, and you should be able to get out without too much attention. Call me when you are clear of the building, so I can do something about these vultures outside.”
“But Mr. Mains...” Mrs. Slater said. “I’ve got Miss Sawfeather under suspension.”
His eyes grew wide with anger. “You what? For what?”
“Truancy.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Mr. Mains was young for a high school principal, probably ten years younger than Mrs. Slater, at least. As fake as she was with her spiky dyed hair, he was all natural. He had a touch of gray around his sideburns and in his eyebrows, and wore tweed blazers with Dockers instead of suits. Everyone liked him because he used to be a school therapist before going into administration and he was known to be really fair. Like right now.
“You do know why Juniper has been out of school, right?” he asked. “It’s been in the news.”
“You don’t believe any of that hogwash, do you?” she asked, her hands on her plump hips, talking up to the tall man like a fourth grader with attitude.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “It doesn’t matter if I believe in mermaids or not. I do believe there was an oil spill, however, and if her family needs her to help with the ramifications of that I see no reason to prevent her from doing her part. Both of these ladies are Honors students. I’m not exactly worried about them falling behind.” He leaned over to put his face right in front of hers and said in a very low voice, “And if you haven’t noticed, all of those reporters out there believe at least something about her story. Our students can’t safely exit this building until those folks are gone.”
“Yes sir,” she responded, her eyes nearly slits. I imagined she’d be throwing darts at a picture of him after hours as she drank gin and tonics and wondered for the thousandth
time why he got promoted over her.
He took Mrs. Slater into his office where their argument continued for a few minutes. Only her voice carried through the door, though, because his was so calm and collected compared to hers. While they went round and round about school policy, we had Mrs. Campbell page Haley to come to the school cafeteria. She would be able to get to her car without drawing any attention from the press. Mrs. Campbell ran down there to meet her and tell her the plan.
Mr. Mains emerged from his office and wiped his hands together as if washing off something nasty. Behind him, Mrs. Slater was so red in the face I thought she might explode. The phone rang, and the poor little volunteer mom picked it up.
“Hello? Um, no. She’s in class at the moment. We aren’t allowing any reporters...” Mrs. Slater grabbed the receiver and slammed it down on the base. Mr. Mains shot her a warning look, and she stared right back at him with some serious contempt.
I felt kind of bad about being responsible for the drama happening between them and hoped that it would boil over soon, but I had a feeling this rift was about more than just me. It kind of looked like this wouldn’t end until one of them was fired or dead.
Mr. Mains guided Regina and I out of the front office away from the staring reporters at the windows and down the hall toward the cafeteria. Five minutes later we were driving down the road in Haley’s car and laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Haley had to pull over into the mini-mall parking lot until we calmed down.
“So what do we do now?” Haley asked, through her subsiding giggles. She turned her head to me for an answer. Regina leaned forward between the seats and expected an answer from me too. Suddenly it wasn’t all that funny anymore. My heart thumped in my chest like I’d forgotten my lines in a play. I really didn’t know what to do next.
Chapter Thirteen
We all got out our cell phones and got busy. Haley called the school to let them know we were safely away from campus. Regina texted Marlee, Gary, and Ted and told them to ditch school at lunchtime and meet at her house. “Well, you can’t go to your house,” she explained to me when I asked what she was doing. “The press will be waiting for you there.”
I ignored her for the moment and called my dad. He said the same thing as Regina about going home. He didn’t want me there without him and mom. “Are you coming home then?” I asked him.
“I can’t,” he said. “The beach is packed with people. I have to try to keep them away from the water and the damage from the oil. I don’t have enough help here at all.”
“Do you want me to come there?” I asked.
“No. It looks like a storm is brewing, and I’m hoping that’ll chase some of them indoors.” He paused. “Can you get hold of Carter?”
“I don’t think he’s speaking to me right now.”
“Oh, well, that’s unfortunate. I could use him out here.”
“I’ll text him and see if he can join you.” Regina and Haley were done with their calls, and the motor was still running on the car. I needed a plan. “Dad, we have to talk to the reporters at some point.”
“I know,” he grunted. “Your mom will be at the airport soon. Why don’t you go to her office and meet her there?”
Regina didn’t take the news that I wanted to be dropped off at my mom’s office downtown very well. “Why can’t we stay with you? I thought we were a team?”
“Look Regina, you’ve done enough already,” I told her. “I don’t know what you were saying to the reporters in front of the school, but you shouldn’t have been out there at all. This really isn’t your business.”
“Oh, it’s not, is it?” She got out of the car and slammed the door. Then she opened Haley’s door and said, “Come on!”
Haley switched off the ignition and pulled her keys as Regina tugged her arm to get her out of the car. Before Regina slammed that door too, she said, “Get there on your own!” And they left me sitting in the passenger seat of Haley’s car as they walked into the Espresso Café.
I sat for a moment, wondering if I should follow them inside, tell them I’d changed my mind, and invite them to be part of whatever was going to happen with my mom this afternoon. My mom’s pretty imposing. They wouldn’t get away with much in her presence. They’d probably be sorry they tagged along as they sat in the corner bored to death.
Only Mom was still on the edge with me, and I’d only just earned back a fraction of respect from her. I didn’t want to test her patience. I didn’t want to blow it again with her so soon. It would be better to come without the teenage sidekicks.
Plus, didn’t Regina just set up for her whole entourage to meet her at home? I really didn’t want Marlee, Gary, and Ted along as well. That would be popular kid overload, and my brain could explode from the weirdness of it all.
So, I got out of the car, slipped on my backpack and closed the door behind me. A beep of the car doors locking assured me that Haley was just on the other side of the darkened windows of the shop watching me. I walked away from the café toward the grocery store, not quite sure what to do now. I texted Carter my dad’s request for assistance at the beach but didn’t dare ask him to pick me up. I considered leaving a message for my mom to come get me after she landed, but that would be a long time from now, and the inconvenience would irritate her. In the store I grabbed a soda and a candy bar and walked up to the counter. When I reached into my pocket for some cash, I pulled out a business card.
Problem solved.
Ten minutes later I was seated in the Channel 4 News van beside Juarez Peña and his cameraman, one of those beefy bald guys with a goatee named Chuck Emory, who squatted behind our seats and kept his balance by holding both of our headrests. I think he refused to sit back in case he needed to grab his camera for a quick shot. Both of them grinned like they’d won some big prize, and Peña clobbered me with questions.
“I can’t answer anything until my mom gets here,” I told them several times. “I promise you that you will get the story first, but you’ll have to wait.”
At last it clicked that they weren’t going to squeeze anything out of me, so Peña relaxed and just drove out of the parking lot. I saw Haley and Regina run out of the coffee house waving their cell phones to get my attention. I ignored them and turned my phone to silent.
Chuck finally settled back in his seat. I didn’t hear a seatbelt click, though.
“I’ve wanted to meet your parents in person for a while,” Peña said. “I’m very impressed by their work. Do you think your dad will join us?”
“He’s pretty busy working.”
“With the mermaids? And where would that be again?”
“Nice try.”
Both of the men laughed, and then Peña gave a little sigh. “I give up,” he said. “You want some lunch?”
We got some fast food, since we had time to spare, and he was very good about not asking me anything else about the mermaids or oil spill. Instead, he commented on my name. “Which tribe is Sawfeather?”
“Chinook,” I answered. “A coastal tribe of the American Northwest. We are famous for our canoes and totem poles.”
“Why canoes?” Chuck asked through a mouthful of hamburger. “What’s interesting about that?”
Before I could answer, Peña spoke up. “Most of the American Indian tribes in this region were whalers. They made canoes out of cedar wood and rowed them into the ocean to kill orcas.”
I nodded. “That’s right. How did you know that?”
Peña smiled. “I’m part American Indian too. The Lummi of the San Juan Islands.”
“Really?” I couldn’t believe it. “Your name is Spanish though. Double Spanish actually, since you have two last names.”
He laughed. “I know. I still haven’t forgiven my mother for that. She insisted that her maiden name be my first name. But yeah, my Spanish ancestors invaded Washington, and it was common for many of the men to take American Indian wives because they were the only women in the region. So, way down deep, I still have
some of that heritage, and I’ve made it a point to learn about it.”
“Interesting,” I commented before taking a long drink from my soda. Wow, I really didn’t want to get this guy and my dad together in a room. It would be blah, blah, blah city.
Chuck waved his right hand as if to erase all of the family history stuff away and get back to what was more interesting to him. “Are you saying they tried to kill killer whales from canoes? Were they crazy?”
“No,” both Peña and I said almost too defensively.
“It was dangerous, to be sure,” Peña said, “but they had no choice. They needed the meat and blubber.”
I tried to suppress the thought as it came to me, but it blurted out anyway: “My dad tells this old story about killer whales and a mermaid.”
“Oh!” Peña cried out. “Is it the legend of the American Indian fisherman who was thrown overboard and instead of drowning was magically transformed into a killer whale? I love that story!” He leaned across the little yellow table toward Chuck. “They say that’s why there are so many orcas in the straits of Georgia and Juan de Fuca around the islands. One of the islands is even named Orcas, and there are sightings all the time.”
“Sounds like a day trip is in my future,” Chuck said. “If I ever get a day off.”
Peña waved a French fry at him like a teacher with a pointer. “The best time to go is in August for the Potlatch.”
“Pot Luck?” He grinned madly. “I’m in for that!” He ate his second hamburger.
“No, the Potlatch.” Peña corrected. “It was an old tradition when all the tribes of that region would get together to celebrate the peace between them by making offerings to the sea. They went out in canoes and dropped handmade items like necklaces, headbands, shawls, and things like that into the water as gifts to the sea spirits that kept them alive. Just a couple years ago a few of the American Indians from the islands got together and decided to start up the tradition again. It’s become a huge festival week, and tourists come from all over.”
