by Liz Kessler
Topping it up? I thought about all Mr. Beeston’s visits. He wasn’t lonely! He was drugging my mom!
We looked all the way through Mom’s file. Page after page noting her movements. He’d been spying on us for years.
“I feel sick,” I said, closing the file.
Shona picked up Jake’s file. There was a note stuck on the front with something scribbled on it. East Wing: E 930. We read in silence.
JW Three: Bad influence.
JW continuing to complain about sentence. Sullen and difficult.
JW Eight: Improvement.
Subject has settled into routine of prison life. Behavior improved.
JW Eleven: Isolation.
Operation Desert Island discussed openly by prisoner. Isolation–three days.
“Operation Desert Island!” Shona exclaimed. “So it’s true after all. There is a place! Somewhere merfolk and humans live together!”
“How do you know that’s what it is?” I asked. “It could be anything.”
We read on.
“None of it makes any sense,” I said, swimming backward and forward across the room to help me think.
Shona continued flicking through the file. “It’s all numbers and dates and weird initials.” She closed the file. “I can’t make fin or tail of it.” She grabbed another file from the chest. “Listen to this,” she said. “‘Project Lighthouse. CFB to take over Brightport Lighthouse until completion of Windsnap problem. Ground floor adapted for access. Occasional siren support available with unreliable beam. Previous lighthouse keeper: M-drug and removal from scene.’” Shona looked up.
“What are we going to do?” I whispered.
“What can we do? But, hey — at least you’ve found your dad.”
My dad. The words sounded strange. Not right. Not yet. “But I haven’t found him,” I said. “That’s just it. All I’ve found is some stupid file that doesn’t make any sense.”
Shona put the file down. “I’m sorry.”
“Look, Shona, we know Jake’s my — my father, don’t we?”
“Without a doubt.”
“And we know where he is?”
“Well, yes.”
“And he can’t come out. He’s locked away. And he didn’t choose to leave me. . . .”
“I’m sure he never wanted to —”
“So we’ll go to him!”
Shona looked at me blankly.
I shoved the files back in the chest, locked it firmly. “Come on, let’s go!”
“Go? Where?”
“The prison.” I turned around to face her. “I’ve got to find him.”
Shona’s tail flapped gently. “Emily, it’s miles away.”
“We’re mermaids! We can swim for miles, no problem!”
“Maybe I can, but it’s definitely too far for you. You’re only half mermaid, remember?”
“So you’re saying I’m not as good as you?” I folded my arms. “I thought you were supposed to be my friend. I thought you might even have been my best friend.”
Shona’s tail flapped even more. “Really?” she said. “I want you to be my best friend, too.”
“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. You won’t even help me find my father.”
Shona winced. “I just don’t think we’d make it there. I’m not even sure exactly where it is.”
“But we’ll never know if we don’t try. Please, Shona. If you were really my best friend, you would.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “We’ll try. But I don’t want you collapsing on me miles out at sea. If you get tired, you have to tell me, and we’ll come back, okay?”
I shoved the chest back under the table. “Okay.”
I don’t know how long we’d been swimming; maybe an hour. I started to feel as if I had heavy weights attached to each arm; my tail was practically dropping off. Flying fish raced along with us, bouncing past on both sides. An occasional gull darted into the sea, like a white dart piercing the water.
“How much farther is it?” I gasped.
“We’re not even halfway.” Shona looked back. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I tried not to pant while I spoke. “Great. No problem.”
Shona slowed down to swim alongside me, and we carried on in silence for a bit. “You’re not okay, are you?” she said after a while.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, but my head slipped under the water while I spoke. I coughed as a mouthful of water went down the wrong way. Shona grabbed me.
“Thanks.” I wriggled away from her. “I’m all right now.”
She looked at me doubtfully. “Maybe we could both do with a rest,” she said. “There’s a tiny island about five minutes’ swim from here. It’s out of our way, but it would give us a chance to get our breath back.”
“Okay,” I said. “If you really need a rest, I don’t mind.”
“Fine.” Shona swam off again. “Follow me.”
Soon, we were sitting on an island barely larger than the flat rock that had become our meeting place. It was hard and gravelly, but I lay down the second I dragged myself out of the sea, the water brushing against me as my tail turned back into legs.
It seemed only seconds later that Shona gently shook my shoulder. “Emily,” she whispered. “You’d better get up. It’s starting to get light.”
I sat up. “How long have I been asleep?”
Shona shrugged. “Not long.”
“Why didn’t you wake me? We’ll never get there now. You did it on purpose!”
Shona squeezed her lips together and scrunched up her eyes. I thought about her pretending she needed a rest, and about taking me to her school and everything. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know why you did it.”
“It’s too far. It’s probably even too far for me, never mind you.”
“I’m never going to see him. I bet he doesn’t even remember he’s got a daughter!” I felt a drop of salty water on my cheek and wiped it roughly away. “What am I going to do?”
Shona put her arm around me. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been mean to you. You’ve been amazing. Really helpful.”
Shona made a face at me, as if she was trying not to smile but couldn’t stop a little grin from slipping out through her frown.
“And I know you’re right,” I added. “There’s no way I could get there tonight, not if we’re only halfway.”
“Not even that. Look.” She pointed out to the horizon. “See that big cloud that looks like a whale spurting water — with the little starfish-shaped one behind it?”
I looked up at the sky. “Um, yeah,” I said uncertainly.
“Just below that, where the sea meets the sky, it’s lighter than the rest of the horizon.”
I studied the horizon. It looked an awfully long way away!
“That’s it. The Great Mermer Reef. It’s like a huge wall, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen in your life, made of rocks and coral in every shape and color you could imagine — and then about a hundred more. The prison’s a mile beyond it. You have to go through the reef to get there.”
My heart felt like a rock itself — dropping down to the bottom of the sea. “Shona, it’s absolutely miles away.”
“We’ll work something out,” Shona said. “I promise.” Then she scrabbled around among the rocks and picked up a couple of stones. She handed one to me.
“What’s this?” I looked at the stone.
“They’re friendship pebbles. They mean that we’re best friends — if you want to be.”
“Of course I want to be!”
“See? They’re almost exactly the same.” She showed me her pebble. “We each keep ours on us at all times. It means we’ll always be there for each other.” Then she said, more quietly, “And it’s also a promise that we’ll find your dad.”
I washed my pebble in the water; it went all shiny and smooth. “It’s the best present anyone’s ever given me.”
Shona
slipped hers into her tail and I put mine in my jacket pocket. I didn’t want it to disappear when my legs returned! I looked at the patch of light that was spreading and growing across the horizon.
“Come on.” Shona slid back into the sea. “We’d better get going.”
We slowly made our way back to Rainbow Rocks.
“See you Sunday?” I asked as we said goodbye.
Shona’s cheeks reddened a touch. “Can we make it Monday?”
“I thought you couldn’t get out on Mondays.”
“I will. I’ll make sure of it. It’s just that the Diving and Dance display is Monday morning, and I don’t want to be too tired for the triple flips.”
“Monday night, then.” I smiled. “And good luck.”
By the time I got home, I was so tired I could have fallen asleep standing up. But my head was spinning with thoughts and questions. And sadness. I’d found out where my father was, but how would we ever get there? Would we really find him? It felt like I was losing him all over again. I’d virtually lost my mom as well. If only I could make her remember!
As I tried to get to sleep, something Shona had said swam into the corner of my mind. Sometimes it doesn’t work at all, especially if you go near merfolk areas.
Of course!
I knew exactly what I was going to do.
Mom always sleeps in on Sundays. She says even God had a day of rest, and she doesn’t see why she can’t. I’m not allowed to disturb her until she says it’s morning — which usually isn’t until around noon.
I paced up and down the boat, willing her to wake up. What if she slept right through the afternoon and woke up at coffee time? Disaster! I couldn’t take the risk of Mr. Beeston showing up before I’d spoken to her. So I broke a golden rule. I crept into her room and sat on the bed.
“Mom,” I stage-whispered from the end of the bed. She didn’t stir. I inched farther up and leaned toward her ear. “Mom,” I croaked a bit louder.
She opened one eye and then closed it again. “Whadyouwan?” she grumbled.
“You have to get up.”
“Whassamatter?”
“I want to go out.”
Mom groaned and turned over.
“Mom, I want us to go out together.”
Silence.
“Please get up.”
She turned back to face me and opened her eyes a crack.
“We never do anything together,” I said.
“Why now? Why can’t you leave me in peace? What time is it, anyway?”
I quickly turned her alarm clock around so she couldn’t see it. “It’s late. Come on, Mom. Please.”
Mom rubbed her eyes and lay on her back. “I don’t suppose you’re going to give me any peace until I do, are you?”
I smiled hopefully.
“Just leave me alone and I’ll get up.”
I didn’t move. “How do I know you won’t go back to sleep the minute I leave?”
“Emily! I said I’ll get up and I will. Now leave me alone! And if you want to get back in my good graces, you can make me a nice cup of tea. And then I might forgive you.”
Mom took a bite of her toast. “So, where do you imagine we’re going, now that you’ve ruined my Sunday morning?”
I knew exactly where we were going. Shiprock Bay. The nearest you could get to Rainbow Rocks by road. I’d been studying the bus routes, and there was one that took us almost all the way there. We could get off on the coast road and walk along the headland. It must be worth a try. I had to jog her memory somehow.
“I just thought we could have a day trip around the coast,” I said casually as I popped a piece of toast and strawberry jelly in my mouth.
“What about Mr. Beeston?”
“What about him?” I nearly choked on my toast.
“We’ll have to be back by three. We can’t let him down.”
“Oh, Mom! Can’t you break your date with him for once?”
“Emily. Mr. Beeston is a lonely man and a good friend. How many times do I have to tell you that? You know I don’t like letting him down. He has not broken our arrangement once in all these years, and I’m not about to do it to him now. And it is not a date!”
“Whatever.” This wasn’t the time to tell her what I knew about the ‘lonely man.’ What did I know, anyway? Nothing that made any sense. I swallowed hard to get my toast down. My throat was dry. We’d still have time to get there. Maybe we could accidentally-on-purpose miss the bus back. I’d think of something. I had to!
“This is really nice, actually.” Mom looked out of the window as we bumped around the coast road. It had started to turn inland, and I was trying to figure out which stop would be best for us to try. The ocean looked completely different from this angle. Then I saw a familiar clump of rocks and decided to take a chance. I got up and rang the bell. “This is our stop,” I said.
“You know, I think I’m almost glad you woke me up,” Mom said as we got off the bus. “Not that that’s an excuse to do it every week!” She walked over to a green bench on the headland that looked out to sea and sat down. “And you’ve picked such a nice spot, too.”
“What are you doing?” I asked as she reached into her bag and brought out the sandwiches.
“We’re having a picnic, aren’t we?”
“Not here!”
Mom looked around. “Why not? I can’t see anywhere better.”
“Mom, we’re right by the road! Let’s walk out toward the water a bit.”
She frowned.
“Come on, just a little way. Please. You promised.”
“I did no such thing!” she snapped. But she put the sandwiches back anyway, and we headed along a little headland path that led out toward the beach.
After we’d been walking for about fifteen minutes, the path came to an abrupt end. In front of us was a gravelly climb down the cliff.
“Now what?” Mom looked around.
“Let’s go down there.”
“You must be joking. Have you seen my shoes?”
I looked at her feet. Why hadn’t I thought to tell her not to wear her platform sandals? “They’re okay,” I said.
“Emily. I am not going to break my ankles just so you can drag me off down some dangerous cliff.” She turned around and started walking back.
“No, wait!” I looked around desperately. She couldn’t leave — she had to see the rocks. A winding path lay almost hidden under brambles, stony and rough but not nearly as steep as the other one. “Let’s try here,” I said. “And look — it gets flat again over there if we can just get down this part.”
“I don’t know.” Mom looked doubtfully down the cliff.
“Come on; let’s try it. I’ll go first and then I can cushion your fall if you trip and go flying.” I tried an impish smile, and she gave in.
“If I break my legs, you’re bringing me breakfast in bed every day until I’m better.”
“Deal.”
I picked my way through the brambles and stones, checking behind me every few seconds to make sure Mom was still there. We managed to get down to the rocks in one piece.
Mom rubbed her elbow. “Ouch. Thorns.” She pulled up a piece of seaweed and rubbed it on her arm. I gazed in front of us. Just a few yards of water separated us from Rainbow Rocks. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched the sea washing over the flat rocks, rainbow water caressing them with every wave.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
I took a deep breath. “Do you believe in mermaids?” I asked, my throat tight and strained.
Mom laughed. “Mermaids? Oh, Emily, you do ask some silly —”
But then she stopped. She dropped the seaweed on the ground. Looking out to sea, her face went all hard.
“What is it, Mom?” I asked gently.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“Just by the coast. I just thought it’d be nice to go out for —”
“What is this place?”
I hadn’t actually thought abou
t what I’d say once we got here! What would she do if she knew — not just about Jake but about me, too? What if she only half remembered? She might think we were both freaks. Maybe she’d be ashamed of us. Why hadn’t I thought this through?
I cleared my throat. “Um, it’s just some rocks,” I said carefully. “Isn’t it?”
Mom turned to me. “I’ve been here before,” she said, her face scrunched up as if she was in pain.
“When?”
“I don’t know. But I know this place.”
“Shall we go farther down?”
“No!” She turned back the way we’d come. “Emily. We have to go back. Mr. Beeston will be expecting us.”
“But we just got here. Mr. Beeston won’t be around for ages yet.”
“I can’t stay here,” Mom said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about it. We’re going home.” She started walking back so quickly I could hardly keep up.
We ate our sandwiches on that green bench on the headland, after all. A bus went whizzing past just as we were approaching the road, so there was nothing to do but wait for the next one. We ate in silence: me not knowing what to say, Mom gazing into space.
I kept wanting to ask her things, or tell her things, but where could I start?
Eventually another bus came, and we rode home in silence as well. By the time we got back to Brightport Pier, it was nearly four o’clock.
“Are you angry with me?” I asked as we let ourselves into the boat.
“Angry? Why? You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Mom searched my face.
“I wanted to have a nice day out and now you’ve gotten all sad.”
Mom shook her head. “Just thoughtful, sweetheart. There was something about that place. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“What? What was it?”
“It was such a strong memory, but I don’t even know what it was.” She shook her head again and took her coat off. “Listen to me, talking drivel as usual.”
“You’re not talking drivel at all,” I said urgently. “What was the memory?”
Mom hugged her coat. “Do you know, it wasn’t a memory of a thing. More a feeling of something. I felt an overwhelming feeling of . . . love.”
