FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars)

by Sutton Shields

  The minute I found the bottle, the little seal sat very still and allowed me to retrieve the note. GASP! Trey’s handwriting. Scribbled on the slip of paper was his nickname for me—Squiggle—followed by the word ‘ONLY,’ written in big letters. Beneath my nickname was a circle with odd spikes along the top. Inside the circle was an arrow, which started near the spikes and traveled down until it angled to the right and pointed directly at the number ‘17.’

  “Trey sent me this, didn’t he?” I asked the seal pup. The pup simply nodded and waddled off.

  Whether the seal pup really understood me or not, I don’t know, but I’d be willing to bet the little guy came to me on Trey’s orders.

  “So, ‘Squiggle only.’ Trey clearly wants me to keep this clue to myself. That much I can figure out. But the rest? Seventeen…one, seven…an arrow pointing to the number seventeen written inside a circle with spike-y things along the top. Huh?”

  Trey must wear a cloak of vagueness because this was completely nonsensical. What on earth was he trying to tell me? My life has never been weirder.

  Chapter Seven

  A Christmas Eve Gathering

  December: One word—CHRISTMAS!

  Monthly Life Caption: “Merry Christmas & A Crappy New Year”

  Mood: Merry (well, merrier…at Christmas, you believe in the unbelievable and set aside the inexplicable)

  Eating: Christmas cookies, cake, candy canes…oh, just everything

  Music: Hello? What else? Classic Christmas tunes

  December 5th: Troy & tree shopping. For my mom, trying to choose a Christmas tree was about as speedy as an ancient and confused turtle trying to decide whether to cross the road. Making the process particularly annoying was the weather: cold, wet, and gloomy. I was most definitely NOT in the Christmas spirit, and my soggy, raw feet weren’t helping.

  “Hmm, I just can’t decide which would look better with the ocean as the backdrop,” said my mom, tapping her foot in a muddy puddle.

  Ugh, I must remove myself from the cold…now. “Mom, would you mind if I drop by The Bay Shop?” I really don’t fancy spending Christmastime with a snotty nose and sore throat.

  “What? Oh, no, not at all. I’ll be here at least another twenty minutes,” she said.

  The poor tree lot attendant grimaced and groaned.

  While my mom pondered the pros and cons of a fir, I gladly stepped out of the cold and into the warmth of just about the merriest store in downtown Saxet Shores. Every inch of The Bay Shop shimmered with a large variety of unique Christmas decorations. Nestled among the glass ornaments and plush reindeer were all sorts of goodies to buy, from the dinkiest of plastic toys to the rarest of gems. Without a doubt, I could find my mom a Christmas present in here.

  While weaving in and out of the narrow little aisles, a familiar voice called out to me.

  “Marina?” Troy, cradling a stuffed Christmas bear, sauntered towards me.

  “Hey. New friend?” I asked, eyeing the bear.

  “Nah, just setting him out for sale. You wouldn’t be interested, would you?”

  I wanted to say, “What, are you for sale?” I didn’t. “He’s pretty cute, actually. But, I’m here to put my allowance to good use and find something for my mom.”

  “What are you looking to get her?”

  “Dunno. Something special.” Troy followed me around while I continued browsing. “Oh, wow! What are these?” I asked, pointing to a small glass treasure chest. Inside, earrings, pendants, rings, and bracelets sparkled in iridescent purples, blues, and greens.

  “New Zealand pāua shells. They’re known as the sea’s opal,” said Troy. “They’re thought to represent stars, or the eyes of the one you love.”

  Swoon. “They are beautiful. Can I see the earrings?”

  “Sure,” he said, unlocking the chest and removing the earrings.

  “I’ll take them. Her earlobes look lonely.”

  “Lonely earlobes? You have a way with words, I’ll give you that. What was it you called me the day we met? An ‘I am man, you are woman Neanderthal’ with a…what was it again?”

  “A Jesus complex,” I muttered. “If your smile gets any bigger you can be your own Joker card.”

  “Well, anyway, I guarantee she’ll love these. See anything else?”

  “The necklace is probably my favorite. It reminds me of one my dad gave to me when I was ten. Helena Hambourg took it from my neck the day I arrived at the institution.”

  “It must have been horrible for you and your friends.”

  “It wasn’t hoggy-warty fun. I’m half-tempted to get that necklace.” I flipped the price tag and nearly choked. “Oh. So un-tempted now. Just the earrings, then.”

  “Would you like them gift wrapped?”

  I couldn’t help but grin at him. “You gift wrap?”

  “What? Gift wrapping is an art! Really, it’s just that I man the shop for old Mrs. Waterberry from time to time. She’s getting on in age now, but she still loves to impart her knowledge on me, including how to gift wrap.”

  “How very Mr. Good Neighbor of you.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, moving behind the counter to wrap my mom’s present. “Besides, she’s all alone. Sometimes she needs someone who’ll listen to her stories…you know, to keep her company.” I think my heart just melted a bit. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  “Oh, you know, ornaments, twinkle lights, cookies, presents, roast beastie, having faith when common sense tells me not to. Holiday usual. You?”

  “Just hanging out at home. And I’ll be going to the Christmas party at the community center on Christmas Eve. Are you going?” he asked.

  Ick. I forgot about the town Christmas party. Mom started the guilt trip soon after Thanksgiving, and I always succumb to her guilt-tripping. Really, I’d much rather stay home and work on Trey’s clue. So far, I’ve come up with…absolutely nothing but a headache.

  “Yeah, I’m going with my mom.”

  “Here you go! Not too bad, huh?” he said, handing me the little golden box.

  “It’s beautiful, thank you,” I said, handing him the money. After an odd moment, I added, “Well, I should be going. My mom can’t decide between a fir and a pine. I’m just going to tell her to go for the pine, so we can get out of this weather.”

  “I’d go for the fir. They last longer.” His smile was so gentle.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “See you at school.”

  “Hit those books hard. Mega tests coming up.”

  “Bet I outscore you.”

  “Ya think?” he said.

  “I do think. Hey, um, would you say we’re becoming friends now?” I couldn’t help but ask, albeit awkwardly.

  “You know, I would say we’re becoming friends now,” he said, smirking.

  “Well, isn’t that just kick me in the gut surprising,” I said, tripping out of the door.

  “There’s a step there, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what friends do—make idiots of themselves in front of one another and quickly disappear. See ya later.”

  “Bye,” he said, laughing.

  Friends. I’m officially friends with Troy Tombolo. Who would have thought? Ooh, I bet Katrina will hate this little development.

  After about five minutes of convincing my mom to choose the fir, we finally headed home. We spent the rest of the day tree-trimming and baking cookies, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

  December 24th: Christmas party. I should be thrilled. I’m done with exams, and Christmas was officially here. Yet, I feel nothing but dread. Dread. I DO NOT—repeat, DO NOT—want to go to this stupid party and hang out with Fairhairs who recoil in the presence of Ravenflames. And I DO NOT want my mom anywhere around Mr. Smarmy, who seems to be spending more and more time with her at school.

  While my mom twirls down the hall in her new dress, I remain slumped on my bed in my best pair of jeans and green woolly sweater.

  “Marina! You ready? I hear there wil
l be dancing! I’m going to twist again, like I did ten summers ago. Or maybe do a little dirty dancing with Mr. Gibbs.”

  BARF. “Mom, if you do that, so help me Santa…I’m just getting used to the idea of you flirting it up. I don’t need the mental imagery of you grinding with my teacher.”

  “Oh, don’t be a stick in the mud.”

  “Besides, if you carry a watermelon to Mr. Gibbs, he’ll have a coronary.”

  “Point made and taken. Keys, keys, where are my keys?” said my mom, rifling through her bag. “My keys are gone! Someone’s stolen my keys! Wait. Found them. Let’s go.”

  The dome-shaped community center was right next to the school. People flooded the brightly lit building as we pulled up. It looks like the whole freakin’ town decided to make an appearance. Peachy. Once inside, I had to admit the décor was actually cutely lavish and not at all cheesy. Color me surprised.

  “Go mingle and have fun,” said my mom, skittering off to talk to Mr. Gibbs…and there goes Mr. Smarmy to chat her up.

  Hmm. Mingle. Tricky. It wasn’t like I had too many choices.

  “Marina!” Hallelujah! Polly and Meikle rushed towards me.

  “So glad y’all are here,” I said.

  “Jeans? Really? Why?” asked Polly.

  “Why not?” I asked, mystified.

  “Because you should be in a dress,” said Polly, hands on hips. “Getting me fussy this time of year is cruel. You know how my demon parts hate the holidays. I’ve been coughing up holly all damn day.”

  “Oh, give it up, Little House on the Demon Prairie,” Meikle groaned.

  “Well, at least you wore a dress…even though it’s black…with skulls,” said Polly.

  “They have holly in their eye holes,” said Meikle.

  Polly shifted her attention back to my jeans. “Marina, it’s formal attire. That means a dress. Look at you! You look like an elf with your glow-in-the-dark hair and green sweater. All you need is a pair of red and white striped stockings to complete the ridiculous ensemble. Didn’t you notice everyone else appropriately dressed when you came in?”

  “Nope. I try not to notice people around me. And you really don’t want to talk glow-in-the-dark hair, Pink Ponytail. I didn’t get the formal dress notice. Shoot me.”

  “Glad you’re back with the group, Marina. You’re humorous in a cynical, un-fuzzy kind of way,” said Meikle.

  “Yeah, I’m a real riot. Anything else going on here, or is everyone busy not mingling?”

  “Well, there are some raffles for prizes. I entered all of them, except the stuffed bear one. Teddy bears are scary,” said Polly, shivering. “Who makes a child’s toy based on a creature that bites and mauls and grrs?”

  The little bear from The Bay Shop looked cuddly and cute sitting atop a small podium on the table. Dang it. I was half-considering getting him as a Christmas gift for myself.

  “Maybe I’ll try for him,” I said.

  “I thought about trying for him…you know, for voodoo or something. I’ve been working on a spell to save you, Marina. Think I’m close. Still, I’d stay inside New Year’s Eve,” said Meikle.

  “Yes, please don’t be predictably irrational, leave the house, and deliver your life to death’s hands.” Polly kept looking back at the teddy bear. “I think it’s staring at me.”

  “That’s because you keep staring at it,” Meikle said. “You know Trey would want you to just lay low that night, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll stay inside, I swear it. But, like I said, you can’t stop a reading.”

  “We’ll see. Hey, Marina, someone’s staring at you,” Meikle teased.

  “Fabulous,” I grunted. “Who is it this time? A Fairhair looking at me like I’m about to vaporize? Or could it be a Ravenflame, wanting to rip off my head?”

  “Well, it’s a Fairhair, but by the looks of things, he definitely doesn’t think you’re about to vaporize, and I don’t think it’s your head he wants to rip off,” said Meikle slyly.

  “Who is it?”

  “The sex beast himself, Troy Tombolo. And, man, he won’t take his eyes off you,” said Meikle. “He would look so good in chains.”

  I stared back. How could I not? I swear he has some magnetic field around him that defies gravity; it pulls me to him as though I’m a helpless rag doll. I’ve never felt so on edge, so close to losing my self-preservation. My insides felt maddeningly frightened yet fantastically free, if only I could let go.

  “You better get your name in for that way-too-happy bear,” said Meikle.

  “Right. Back in a minute.”

  I was almost to the raffle table when a strong gust of wind filled the room, carrying on it the thunder of the front doors crashing open. Fifteen leather-clad Ravenflames rounded the corner. Leading the pack was none other than Katrina Zale. Their faces raged with deranged determination. The wind even seemed to follow them.

  Katrina stopped barely an inch from my face, surveyed my attire, and whispered, “Once again, you fail to dress appropriately. Honestly, jeans to a Christmas party? Shameful.”

  “And look at you,” I said, “so festive in your black leather and lace. Classy. Ah, but I see you wear the same old jewelry. Honestly, never varying your accessories? Shameful.”

  “You have no idea who you are messing with,” she sneered.

  “On the plus side, Scroogella, it makes the messing so much more fun.” Whoa! I swear the red streaks in her hair just lunged at me.

  “Where is Trey Campbell?” she asked, the streaks in her hair seemingly back to normal.

  “I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  “We know you’ve heard from him. Now, where is he?”

  “Seriously, I have no idea.”

  “I’m only going to ask this once—what has he told you?” she asked.

  “I’m only going to answer this once—none of your business.”

  Before I knew it, Katrina had a debilitating hold of my neck. She slammed me so hard against the wall that I heard my shoulder pop.

  “Marina!” cried my mom.

  “Camille, stay back,” said Mr. Gibbs, holding my mom.

  “One more time, Marina, WHAT HAS HE TOLD YOU?” screamed Katrina, sliding my body up the wall.

  I could see Troy running for me from across the room.

  “Like—I would—ever—tell—you! Get—off—me,” I sputtered, grabbing her hand.

  Within seconds, a golden, gel-like shield appeared between us; it peeled her hands from my neck and hurled her backwards. Almost as quickly as it appeared, the golden shield faded away, and I slumped to the floor when it did.

  “You dare protect her,” said Katrina, staring at Troy, who had his arms stretched out in front of him.

  “It’s not about protecting anyone. It’s Christmas. Things like this should never happen at Christmas. Get out of here, Katrina,” he warned, standing over me.

  “Frankly, things like this should never happen, period,” I said.

  “This isn’t over. Soon, I’ll be overpowering you, Normal,” growled Katrina, though I’m sure I spied a glimmer of fear behind her eyes.

  She and her slugs left, scaring some Fairhairs on the way out.

  “Wonder how much more than regular, old powering she means…because she seems good to go on the powering part.”

  “Are you okay?” asked Troy, taking my hand to help me up.

  “As well as someone who was just choked and slid up the wall by a fashion-flawed sociopath could be,” I said, stretching my sore shoulder. “What just happened, anyway?”

  “No idea,” he said. “Let’s get you and your mom home.”

  “No.”

  “No? Are you serious?” he asked.

  “Yep. I want to try and win that bear.”

  “Unbelievable,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You were just attacked, and you’re thinking about a stuffed bear?”

  “Well, it’s cute.”

  “If you had worn a dress, this would never have happened,�
� said Polly.

  “Please, grip yourself,” said Meikle, rolling her eyes.

  “This whole ordeal has made my demon bits very excited. Oh, no. I think I’m going to puke more holly,” said Polly, running for the bathroom.

  “Ugh, I’ll go help the demonic one,” said Meikle.

  My mom hurried up to me and pulled me into a big mama hug. “Are you okay?”

  “Totally fine.”

  “We need to get you home.”

  “But, Mom…”

  “Home. Now.”

  I looked hopelessly to Troy.

  “Hey, I’m team Mom,” he said.

  “Knew I liked him.” And that’s how Troy won Mom over.

  “Some friend you are,” I groaned.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled his eyes. “I’ll stay and try to win that bear for you, okay?”

  “Seriously? You’d do that for me?”

  “You know I would,” he said quietly.

  “And his heart grew three sizes,” I mused.

  “Go on. You get to bed before Santa comes.”

  “Funny.” I softly punched him in the arm and left the “party” with my mom, who was most eager to get home and drill me with questions.

  After hours of repeatedly saying, “No” and “I don’t know,” my mom concluded the strange shield thing must have been some weird effect of the florescent lights on dust particles. I didn’t tell her I actually felt the gel shield push my neck back while peeling Katrina’s fingers off of me. Surprisingly, the attack and living shield didn’t bother me nearly as much as Troy, feeling the need to let everyone know he only stopped Katrina because it was Christmas. He couldn’t even admit he protected me. Maybe I’m just being overly sensitive. It happens—it’s called PMS. After all, he did stay to try and win me that bear. Sigh. I miss being a seven-year-old sometimes—far less confusion back then.

  Christmas morning. Mom and I spent the whole morning opening presents, laughing, and listening to Christmas music. There weren’t many presents, but fewer packages made Christmas more real. Then again, I’ve never been much of a present person; for me, Christmas went deeper than wrapped things. After opening presents, we curled up with a super yummy brunch of waffles and bacon and watched old holiday movies.