The current swirled around the auditorium as the chorus and the storm sprites returned, waving their tails idly and whispering. Gilly and Jet swam to the front, where Gilly performed a few somersaults.
“Remember everyone,” said Miss Tangle. “The storm sprites and the Queen are FRIENDS now. So no more scowling.” She looked at Lupita and Orla. “Or punching.”
“I thought the Queen and the sprite things were enemies,” Jet said.
Miss Tangle wiped her forehead. “You’ve just been singing about friendship. Don’t you know the story at all, Jet dear? After the fight scene, everyone agrees that storms can be useful for the ecology of the lagoon.”
“I’m good at fighting,” said Jet.
“Can we talk about my costume soon, Miss Tangle?” Gilly asked.
With a great clattering of coral stools, the orchestra settled down for the finale. Finnula and Kerri crashed out the rhythm on the mussel drums. The cast tried to go through their dance moves. Fins to the left, fins to the right, somersault, hold hands, and repeat. But Marnie squashed her tail and bumped noses with Eddy. Lupita bumped into Orla, on purpose this time. Orla jumped on Lupita. Everyone else jumped on Orla. There was a lot of shouting.
Miss Tangle waved her tentacles. “Gilly, stop dancing in front of everyone! Jet, come DOWN from the chandelier! Oh tails and scales, this year’s Clamshell Show is going to be a disaster!”
Marnie concentrated as hard as she could, turning somersaults until she felt sick. Despite all the chaos onstage, Pearl’s words floated around and around in her head: You have to ask your aunt who Arthur is. It couldn’t hurt to ask, right? She would talk to her aunt at some point.
Bobbing around on the deck of his boat, Arthur Bagshot studied the nautical map with a large magnifying glass. He peered at a section of the lagoon off to the south-southeast. The water there was deep. Undisturbed. Anything could be down there.
Anything at all.
He had left a letter for Christabel at the East Lagoon Rocks, where they’d left each other messages in the old days. His heart had almost jumped out of his chest when the letter disappeared. Surely Christabel was the only one who could have found it.
But she hadn’t written back.
Arthur had decided to take matters into his own hands. He was tired of waiting.
“Set a course for south-southeast,” he called to the captain, folding up his map. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
The captain put his head out of the engine room. “What are we looking for then, boss?” he said cheerfully. “Treasure?”
“Oh no,” said Arthur. “Something even more precious than that.”
“Can I come with you to the studio tonight, Aunt Christabel?” Marnie asked. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Christabel gave Garbo the dirty bowl of seaweed soufflé for the little goldfish to suck at before placing it in the hot-vent dishwasher. “Of course you can, darling,” she said. “I’m recording my advertisement for the Clamshell Show. You can come and give me some feedback.”
“That’s OK, isn’t it, Mom?” Marnie asked. “If I go out with Aunt Christabel to the studio?”
Marnie’s mom waved a hand vaguely in the air. “Don’t be late back,” she said. “Horace? Living room. I need to mend the hem on my best seaweed gown, and I can’t see a thing without some overhead lighting.”
Marnie’s mom left the room with Horace dangling his light ahead of her. The kitchen grew dim.
“This all sounds very secretive,” said Christabel. “What do you want to talk to me about? Is it about a boy?”
“Yes,” said Marnie honestly.
Aunt Christabel found her blue sea-moss coat and clipped on Garbo’s leash. “I’m not sure you’re old enough for boys yet,” she said, opening the door.
Marnie flushed. “Oh, it’s not about me, Aunt Christabel. It’s about . . . someone else.”
“Someone older than you, I hope?” Christabel laughed.
Marnie nodded. And gulped. How DID you ask a grown-up about whether they’d ever been in love?
“It’s you, Aunt Christabel,” she blurted. “I want to ask about YOU and a boy.”
Christabel looked sideways at her. “Oh no. You saw my letter in the studio. Didn’t you?”
Marnie nodded. “I didn’t mean to. And I saw the rock too. Christabel loves Arthur.”
Marnie had never seen her aunt look so shocked.
“When did you see that?” Christabel asked, pressing a hand to her heart. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to swim around the East Lagoon Rocks? Your mom would have a fit if she found out. There are humans near there, Marnie. Do you want us all to be discovered?”
“I’ve seen your crystal tears too,” Marnie plunged on. “Pearl told me what they meant. Aunt Christabel, is Arthur your true love?”
Christabel sighed but didn’t answer the question. “Flip and Sam are waiting,” she said. “We ought to hurry.”
Marnie didn’t give up. “If he’s your true love, why can’t you be together?” she asked, swimming after her aunt.
“It’s complicated.”
Aunt Christabel swam up the rocky tunnel and into the little studio. Marnie followed.
“Hey Chrissie,” said Sam. “Ready to record?”
Christabel’s producer, Flip, grinned through his blue beard and handed Christabel a sheet of seagrass paper. Christabel read it through as Sheela swam over with a hot cup of kelp tea.
“Any thoughts on the wording of this ad for the Clamshell Show, Sheela?” asked Christabel, taking the tea.
“Maybe add something about ‘soFISHtication’?” Sheela suggested.
Christabel laughed, and Flip grinned, his gold tooth flashing.
“Good one,” called Sam.
Marnie thought about Aunt Christabel’s words of advice for Gilly and Jet. Success is about teamwork, and sharing the credit. No one succeeds alone. Christabel, Sam, Flip, and Sheela were a great team.
Christabel swam into the recording booth, placed the shell headphones on her head and leaned in to the sea-sponge microphone. Sam flipped a switch to red, and Marnie heard her aunt’s voice boom around the studio.
“Your annual opporTUNAty to enjoy a WHALE of an evening is back! Yes folks, it’s CLAMSHELL SHOW time. The Big Blue Show will be broadcasting from Clamshell Grotto FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY, bringing you all the glamour and gossip. It’ll be a night of star appeal and soFISHtication. What are you waiting for? Get your tickets today!”
“Great! Let’s do one more take, to be on the safe side,” said Flip. “Ready to go again, Chrissie?”
Sheela swam over to Marnie. Even though Sheela was Orla’s sister, Marnie always felt shy around the older mermaid with her short hair and ruby-colored tail. She was so cool and talented.
“How are the Show-off Twins?” Sheela asked.
“Still showing off,” Marnie said. “They’re always late to rehearsal, and they still don’t know their lines.”
Sheela’s dark eyes glinted. “Someone needs to teach them a lesson. Don’t you think?”
Before Marnie could answer, the recording light blinked off.
“Great work, Chrissie,” Sam said into his microphone.
“We’ll put the advertisement out on tomorrow’s show,” said Flip.
Christabel swam out of the booth, leaving the shell headphones on Sam’s mixing desk. Marnie opened her mouth to ask about Arthur again. But Christabel patted her cheek before she could say a word.
“Enough questions, shrimp,” she said.
And that, Marnie realized, was all her aunt was going to say.
Marnie and Orla sat on the Clamshell Stage and waited for Miss Tangle to stop throwing her batons at the singers and the orchestra. Dress rehearsal wasn’t going well.
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Marnie’s mom had said brightly over breakfast that morning, as Marnie went through her dance moves with a piece of seaweed toast in one hand and a glass of sea-anemone juice in the other.
“I believe in you all, and I can’t wait to see the show tomorrow. Break a fin, darling!”
But then Marnie had spilled her juice on Horace the anglerfish mid-somersault and he’d switched his light off in a huff and she hadn’t been able to find her school things in the dark and she’d ended up with a tardy from Ms. Mullet. She should have guessed right then that her mom’s confidence wasn’t going to be enough to get her through the day.
“You don’t know your lines,” Miss Tangle screeched at one of the storm sprites.
PING! A baton bounced off a mussel drum.
“You don’t know your moves!” she shouted at the chorus.
THWANG! Another baton flew over Marnie’s head and got stuck in the pearl curtains.
“You can’t stay in tune. You’re behind my beat,” bellowed Miss Tangle at the sea-glass violins and bladder-wrack bagpipes.
DOINK! DOINK!
Down in the orchestra pit, Algie pulled a baton out of his razor-clam flute.
“The audience will LEAVE at the intermission and I will be served up as a salad on a record producer’s plate!” Miss Tangle had run out of batons. She flailed her tentacles instead. “The show is tomorrow. TOMORROW!”
“Aunt Christabel always says a show gets worse before it gets better,” Marnie whispered to Orla, doing her best to stay positive.
“Well, it’s certainly gotten worse.” Orla sighed. “Has your aunt said anything else about that Arthur guy yet?”
Marnie shook her head. She’d been trying to think of ways to get her aunt to talk to her about Arthur all week, but Aunt Christabel had made it clear the subject was off-limits.
“Jet and Gilly!” Miss Tangle wailed. “Why aren’t my stars onstage? JET AND GILLY!”
Marnie glimpsed a cloud of golden hair high up in one of the seating boxes that lined the walls of the grotto. Gilly leaped out of the box and swam down to the stage. Jet swam after her, beating his dark blue tail lazily.
“What were you two doing up there?” Miss Tangle demanded. “Cast members shouldn’t be in the boxes. The boxes are reserved for record producers, agents, and important members of the audience only.”
Marnie saw a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. She peered up at the box. Someone was there, just out of sight. She was sure of it.
“Jet and Gilly were just talking to someone up in that box,” she hissed at Orla as the storm sprites gathered in their starting positions.
“Who cares?” Orla said. “I’m not interested in anything those idiots do.”
The rock tuba blasted, making the chandelier shake.
“That’s our cue,” said Orla, grabbing Marnie’s arm. “Start singing, or Miss Tangle will throw something else at us.”
Marnie tore her eyes away from the box high up on the rocky wall.
“WE are the storm sprites,
WE like to start fights,
WE stir the waves, OH!
WE drive the wind, OH!”
Gilly and Jet were now whispering together on the far side of the stage. They were up to something, Marnie could tell. But what?
Marnie gazed at herself in the long rock-crystal mirror. It was the night of the show at last. OK, so her costume was grey and black. But at least the tiny iridescent shells sewn along the hem were sparkly. She leaned in closer to the mirror and rubbed white makeup into her cheeks. She drew big black circles around her eyes, and blinked at her reflection. A gruesome storm sprite blinked back.
“You look awful,” said Orla. She’d backcombed her hair so that it stood around her head in a huge black cloud. “So do I.”
Marnie turned to the side. The shells on her hem clinked like little bells. “I think the costume is sort of cool,” she said.
Orla glared. “Not as cool as Gilly’s though.”
Marnie glanced across the dressing room at the beautiful gown hanging from a peg on the wall. It had a pale pink sea-moss collar. Pearls studded the bodice. Pale green and pink sparkles covered the skirt, which was wide and full and super-swishy. All her life, Marnie had dreamed of wearing a dress like that.
Eddy swooped up to them, widening his black-lined eyes. “I am SO ready to get on there and start scowling and roaring,” he said. “You’d better put your makeup on. We’re going on in a minute.”
“Ha, ha,” said Orla, pulling a gruesome face.
Sighing, Marnie turned back to the mirror and painted her lips green.
Everyone was gathering in nervous little groups backstage beside the looped pearl curtains. Peeking at the auditorium, Marnie gasped. Every single seat was taken. Fins, scales, and tails glittered in the light from the chandelier. Mermaids swam from box to box, trailing ropes of pearls and long fluffy sea-moss wraps. Marnie glimpsed Christabel in a box close to the stage with her headphones on. Sam was working on the microphones. Sheela was fixing Christabel’s hair with a large mother-of-pearl comb as Garbo did somersaults above her head.
Lady Sealia was wearing a gleaming pearl wrap and sitting in the front row with her husband, Lord Foam, a plump merman with a long rust-red beard. Even Dilys had dressed up, wearing a little shell necklace as she dozed on Lady Sealia’s shoulders. Ms. Mullet was cracking cockle shells with her claws and chatting with Mr. Splendid, the toadfish stable master. Further back, Marnie glimpsed the waving brown and white fins of Len the lionfish librarian, and behind him was her mom, looking excited in a very large pair of blue mussel-shell earrings and her mended seaweed gown.
“Where is Gilly?” bellowed Miss Tangle. She had started chewing the ends of her tentacles. “The show is about to begin!”
The orchestra was starting to tune. Marnie glanced back at the dressing room. Queen Maretta’s beautiful dress was still hanging on its peg, sparkling in shades of pink and green.
“Jet’s costume is still hanging up too,” said Eddy. “I saw it in our dressing room. They’re late again. I can’t believe it.”
“Where do you think they are?” Marnie asked, suddenly feeling worried.
Eddy shrugged. “Who knows?”
“But they’re the leads!” Marnie said. “We can’t do the show without them.”
Miss Tangle gave a little shriek of relief as Gilly and Jet finally appeared. “Oh, thank Neptune! Put on your costumes as quickly as you can, my dears, the show is about to—”
“We’ve just had the most amazing news!” said Gilly, clasping her hands.
“It’s pretty cool,” Jet added.
“Yes, yes,” said Miss Tangle, trying to herd them toward the dressing room. “You can tell us all about it afterward—”
Gilly gave a little laugh. “Oh, we can’t do the show anymore, I’m afraid. We’re going to be too busy.”
“Yeah,” said Jet. “This really cool guy said he can make an album for us.”
“And we’re going to start recording it RIGHT AWAY!” said Gilly. “We need to go straight to his recording studio. So I’m sorry but obviously we can’t do the show now.”
“He had an awesome beard,” added Jet, stroking his own chin thoughtfully. “Big and blue.”
Miss Tangle’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“We can’t do the show,” Gilly repeated.
The music teacher clutched her coral necklace. “What about the audience? What about all our hard work? Who is going to play your parts?”
Gilly shrugged. “I’m sure you understand, Miss Tangle. We were only doing the show to get discovered and now we have been, so there’s no point in us doing it. Anyway, we’d rather save our voices for the recording studio. You’ll just have to find another queen and prince.”
“But . . . this is the Clamshell Show!” Miss Tangle spluttered. “Don’t you understand how important it is? EVERYONE is here! EVERYONE is watching! Christabel Blue is broadcasting LIVE from the auditorium! You’ll never have another chance to perform before this audience again!”
“They can come to our first gig,” said Jet. He smirked. “If they can get tickets.”
“Bye!” sang Gilly.
And with a flick of their tails, Jet and Gilly swam away.
For a horrible moment, Marnie thought Miss Tangle was going to pop. Out in the auditorium, the chatter was getting louder.
“Are we still going to do the show, Miss Tangle?” asked Dora Agua.
A loud blast from the rock tuba made Miss Tangle jump. She took several deep breaths. “Who knows the part of Prince Cobalt?” she asked.
Eddy raised his hand eagerly. “Me!”
Miss Tangle waved a tentacle at the dressing room. “Change as quickly as you can.”
Marnie’s head was whirling. Gilly wasn’t going to sing the main part anymore. She wasn’t going to wear the dress. Miss Tangle was going to—
“Who knows Queen Maretta’s part?”
Marnie’s hand shot up as fast as an eel from a crevice. So did Orla’s.
“We can’t have two Queen Marettas,” said Miss Tangle helplessly. “One of you will have to let the other one sing it. Make a decision! Quickly!”
Marnie felt like she was in a bad dream. Keeping her hand in the air, she stared at Orla. Orla stared back. It was as if the last few weeks hadn’t happened at all.
But then there was a scream from the auditorium that made Marnie forget everything.
“HUMAN! There’s a HUMAN in the Clamshell Grotto!”
Arthur hadn’t been expecting this. There were mermaids EVERYWHERE. Half of them were wearing jewels and fluffy coats. There was an octopus with glasses. There was even a small dogfish wearing a necklace. He wondered if he was losing his mind. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his oxygen tank.
So he just bobbed in the entrance of the cave and pulled out his breathing mouthpiece.
“CHRISTABEL!” he shouted, in a burst of bubbles. “ARE YOU HERE? CHRISTABEL BLUE?”
Marnie couldn’t hear anything because of all the screaming. Everyone was rushing out of their seats, swimming as fast as they could past the little figure dressed all in black with a mask on its face and flippers on its feet. A real live human? Here, in the Clamshell Grotto? It was incredible. She looked anxiously for her mom, but couldn’t see her.
The Clamshell Show Page 4
