Real Mermaids Don't Wear Toe Rings (9 page)

T
HE MUG AND SPOON
clattered onto the deck as I sprung from the deck chair and raced to find the boat shed’s key under the rubber mat by the door.

I jammed the key into the lock as my thoughts raced with memories of doing the same thing with Mom every summer when we’d go for our middle-of-the-lake rides in the rowboat. But this wasn’t one of those lazy July afternoons with nothing to worry about but reapplying sun block and wondering what Dad was burning on the barbecue.

If that sound was what I thought it was though, maybe we’d see those days again.

I ran inside and pressed the buttons for the boat lift and the overhead door. Pinkish-orange light from the setting sun flooded through the boathouse as the garage door opened. The rowboat traveled down from the rafters along rattling chains and settled into the water. I scrambled in, unhooked the pulleys to release it from the lift and grabbed the oars.

The boat shot out of the shed with three massive strokes of the oars. I felt like some superhuman she-force, driven by
the massive dose of adrenaline gushing through my veins. In that moment, I was sure I could lift a car off a family of four or save a kitten from a burning building. And if Mom was out there, I would find her, rescue her from those scary mer-dudes and bring her home.

Once the boat neared the first group of islands, I let it drift. Water dripped from the oars in plinking drops, so I pulled them inside to listen.

Yes. The ringing. It was still there. It was louder.

“Row, row, row your boat…”
I sang as loud as I dared, hoping Mom would hear. I couldn’t very well shout out her name.

A screen door slammed shut from the direction of the Beckers’ island cottage. The squeak of a pulley carried across the water. Someone must have been hanging laundry on the clothesline.

“Gently down the stream…”
Dr. Becker would book me for a whole new round of head shrinking if she figured out what I was trying to do. I really didn’t want to spend another four months “getting in touch with my grieving” and “verbalizing my pain.”

“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…”
I drew the rowboat near the Becker’s island, following the ringing sound. I dipped the oars into the water just enough to hug the island’s shore. Thankfully, the crooked pines bowed over the water, keeping me well hidden from the cottage at the top of the steep hill. The ringing grew as I approached the dock.

“Mom?” I whispered.

A wave emerged from within the dock’s crib. Was that just the current from the rowboat reflecting back toward me? “Mom?” I tried again.

I glanced up to the cottage. The screen door slammed again. Hopefully, whoever was hanging laundry had gone inside.

Waves continued to fan out from within the dock. Was Mom under there? I pulled the oars in and caught the side of the dock with my hand. The ringing in my ears was deafening. I tried to channel the noise into a word, like we’d done a couple of weeks before.

Mom, if you can hear me, tell me where you are.

I waited. I thought I heard something, then the word was gone. Was it really a word or was I just willing it to happen? Then, finally, I heard it again.

Here…

Mom!
I ducked my head and peeked under the dock. The sun caught the green glint of the scales on her tail. It was Mom! Really Mom! My whole body sighed in relief. But there was another feeling too. One that surprised me.

I went back to the creek with Dad and you were gone!
The words came out harsher than I intended.

It reminded me of the time Mom lost me at the mall. She’d yelled at me to never leave her side again before suffocating me with hugs and kisses.

Exactly like that.

Only this wasn’t the mall with a kind security guard
feeding me lollipops. And just like Mom had done at the mall after chewing me out, I broke down, crying with relief.

Mom lifted her hand through the water.
No…so… sorry…
But her arm slackened at her side before she could finish her sentence. Was she hurt?

I jumped from the boat to get closer and shivered as the water met my chest. Then I saw Mom through the water. All of her.

Her body lay like a wet towel on the rocks, lining the bottom of the dock. Her eyes were dark pits against her almost transparent complexion. Blue veins ran in random cords along her arms.

Ohmigod! Are you okay?
My anger turned upside down.
What did they do to you?

Mom didn’t answer. Then I remembered. The water. I licked a wet finger. It was completely fresh. How long had she been stuck here, without salt?

I grasped the rowboat before it began to drift away.

Wait here.
I tied the boat’s bowline to one of the crooked pines close to shore and stole a glance at the cottage. Who was up there? They probably couldn’t hear us since we were speaking in rings, but if anyone caught me, what would I say?

What would Dad say? Oh, crap. My cell phone. I pulled it out from the pocket of my hoodie and flipped it open. Damp, but still functional.

Ja…

I tossed the phone on the boat’s seat and rushed back to the dock. I’d call Dad as soon as Mom was safe.

I’m coming!
I rang.

But I couldn’t get to her. Logs spanned across the dock’s wooden supports. Well, not exactly logs, but fallen trees with snapped off branches.

Trapped.
Mom managed to say.

They’d locked her in.

How long have you been in here?

She lifted her hand and held up three fingers. It was obvious from the look on her face and the slowness of her movements; it hadn’t been three hours or three days.

Ever since the day in the creek?

She nodded.

That upside-down anger for the Freshies turned to full-on spitting nails with a side order of lethal poison darts. How could they do this to her?

Where are those idiots?
I rang out the words and clawed at the logs.
I swear: if I ever get my hands on them, I’ll rip their hairy arms off!

I pulled with all my strength, but the logs didn’t budge. I waded around the dock and tried from the other side but Mom’s dock prison was rock solid.

Hunting…back soon…
Mom tried to lift her head to warn me.

Don’t worry.
I splashed back to the rowboat and grabbed an oar. A door creaked from the direction of the cottage and slammed shut. Was someone coming? I pushed the
boat under the cover of the pines and ducked under the dock with the oar. I had to move fast.

No…Jade…
Mom shook her head.

I’m not leaving you again!

Mom’s eyelids fluttered as she struggled to stay conscious.
Jade…the Freshies…not long…
The ring of her voice disappeared along the current of the water.

This isn’t going to take long.

I plunged the oar underwater to wedge it between the logs and forced it down. The log budged an inch, then shifted back into place.

I’m getting you out of here.

Grunt.

Then I’m taking you to the ocean.

Urgh.

The oar flexed under my weight. Thanks to my love of waffle fries, Wigwags, and Chocolate Mug Cake, the log shifted.

Then you’re going to become human again and come home.

The log pulled free and tumbled to the bottom of the lake, barely missing my foot. I reached in and grabbed Mom to yank her out into the open lake.

And if those hairy-armed mer-morons have anything to say about it, they’ll have to go through me!

Mom managed a feeble smile and let herself be carried along, too weak from her weeks in fresh water to resist even if she wanted to. Was I too late? Could she even make the trip to the ocean?

Step one. I’d get her to the boathouse.

Can you swim to Gran’s?
But I already knew the answer.

Mom shook her head from underneath the water.

I couldn’t pull her into the boat. She was barely conscious already; there was no way she’d survive outside of the water. Maybe I could tow her to the boathouse with the bowline. If I rowed backward, it might work!

Here, so you don’t get chafed.
I pulled off my hoodie and reached underwater to get Mom’s arms through the sleeves. Once the rope was around her chest I splashed back to the dock to get the oar.

Oh! And call Dad. I needed to call Dad.

A twig cracked.

“Jade! I
thought
that was you.”

“Dr. Becker!” My head shot up. I whacked it against the dock.

“Oh, are you okay?” Her hand flew up to her head. She winced. Probably some kind of head-shrinking, mirroring technique.

“Yeah.” I rubbed my head and crawled out from under the dock. “Totally fine.” But inside, I was panicking, big time. How long had Dr. Becker been standing there? Did she know something was up? Could she see the outline of Mom’s mermaid body under the water?

I held up the oar. “I, er, just lost this overboard and it drifted over here. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, in fact, I’m happy you’re here. How have you been?”

I waded back to the rowboat, avoiding her gaze.

“Oh, just hunky dory! Peachy keen, that’s me.”

Dr. Becker laughed and walked the last few steps to the shore. I straightened the boat to hide Mom as she floated underwater on the other side.

“Well, it’s lovely to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” I pasted a smile on my face and waded to the middle of the boat to climb in. Hopefully Mom was okay and the rope would hold while I towed her to the mainland. “I’ll just head on back to Gran’s now!”

“Jade, wait!” Dr. Becker called after me.

I froze. Did she know what was going on?

I turned slowly. “Yes?”

“I was just wondering…”

Wondering what? If I was trying to hide the existence of my mermaid mother from a clinical psychologist? Surely, that had to qualify me for one of the more serious mood disorders.

“…if you could you give me a lift to my car on the mainland.”

Phew.

“Sure!”

Gah! Why had I just agreed to that?

Dr. Becker smiled and started for the seat in the stern. I was so preoccupied with the thought of hiding my cargo that I shoved the boat into the water and started rowing before she even had a chance to sit down.

“Whoa!” Dr. Becker caught herself against the side of the rowboat and settled into her seat.

“Hang on, it’s gonna be a rough ride!” I joked as I rowed toward the Beckers’ access dock next to Gran’s cottage, towing Mom from the bowline.

“Why are you rowing backward?” Dr. Becker asked, in her probing, therapist, “let’s explore this behavior” kind of way.

“Oh, I just like to mix things up a little. Forward, backward…I’d row sideways if I could.” Rambling. A sure sign of mental instability.

She craned her neck to look over my shoulder. “Your bowline is dragging.”

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

I needed to turn this conversation around.

“You’re a bit of a rule follower aren’t you, Dr. Becker?” I narrowed my eyes as I continued rowing. “Is that a behavior you’d care to explore?”

Dr. Becker laughed. “I guess you got me on that one. Here you are, doing me a favor, and all I can do is badger you.” She chatted about how Chelse brought her boyfriend up for a visit and how they’d taken the canoe, leaving her stranded, and how Mr. Becker wasn’t back from the marina with the speedboat yet. “So, thanks for the lift,” she continued.

I turned to check the bowline and noticed a flicker of splashes near the dock we’d just left behind. Were the Freshies back? I rowed faster, putting my back into it. Maybe it was the crazed, furtive glances I was stealing from the dock to the bowline to Gran’s boathouse, but all of a sudden, Dr. Becker stopped talking and stared at me.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked. “You seem distracted.”

“Me? No…” The rowboat approached the mainland shore. “…watch yourself, coming in for a landing!”

Dr. Becker’s head snapped back as the boat ran aground, stern first, near their dock. Her hands flew to the sides of the boat to brace herself. “Oh! That was quite a boat ride.”

If those were the Freshies back at the Beckers’ dock, I needed to hurry and ditch the shrink to get Mom to the boat shed safely. Especially since the sun was starting to disappear behind the trees.

Dr. Becker stepped out of the boat and straightened. “Ah yes, there’s the canoe. And just great, now the car’s gone.”

While Dr. Becker grumbled something about having to walk to the marina to catch up with her husband before it got too dark, I imagined Mom drifting below the water, and the Freshies poking around the island looking for her. This was not good.

“Well, have a great evening!” I called out, maybe a bit too eagerly.

Dr. Becker turned and studied me for a moment before speaking. “Before I go, is there something you’d like to share? You just seem a bit…well, scattered today.”

Scattered? Um, yeah. But despite the fact that Mom looked very weak and that the Freshies were probably on the hunt already, I couldn’t stop the warm, hopeful feeling growing in my chest.

“I’m totally fine!” I made no effort to hide the crazed smile plastered across my face.

“Because, if you’re feeling out of sorts, we could always resume our sessions.”

No amount of therapy could undo the fact that I believed I was towing my undead mermaid mother on the bowline to keep her safe from rogue mer-criminals. But, as far as I was concerned, Mom was finally on her way home. If that made me crazy, I was probably beyond help.

“Don’t worry about me, doc. I’ve never felt better.”

C
AN YOU HEAR ME
if I talk normally like this?” I untied the rope from Mom’s chest and climbed up onto the boat shed’s dock to shut the overhead door and turn on the light.

Mom nodded. Her eyes drooped with exhaustion.

“Just rest. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Then it hit me like a Slurpee brain freeze.
Would
everything be okay? I hadn’t thought past getting Mom to Gran’s boathouse. Now I was in No Man’s Land.

How would I get Mom from Dundee to the Port Toulouse boat lock, and who knew if the lock was even open? What would I say to Gran in the meantime? And, ugh, there was no way I could meet Cori at Mug Glug’s tomorrow, given this new development. But at least I didn’t have to fake a deadly wood tick bite to miss the last day of school.

Last day of school! The boat cruise!

I reached over into the rowboat to get my cell.

fluke1019

I couldn’t believe I was texting him.

hurricanejade: hi l…boat cruz still on?

My phone lay quiet for three agonizing minutes.

fluke1019: tmrw @ 12…u in?

The lock MUST be reopened. Maybe the maintenance foreman had finally listened to Dad and started pulling rocks out of the lake.

hurricanejade: gr8. see u @ lox if i can come. ttyl!

“Yes!” I snapped the phone shut.

Mom poked her head out of the water for a second. “Good news?”

“There’s a sailboat going through the lock tomorrow at noon. Hey, I didn’t know you could talk with your head out of the water like that.”

“For a few minutes…so the Freshies can’t hear…but Port Toulouse…so far…”

Good point. How was I going to get her to the boat lock? Especially since the only person in on our little secret was probably on a plane to Dallas by now. I checked my watch. Dad’s plane took off at about nine p.m. Oh! Maybe he got delayed.

“I’m going to try Dad.” After four rings, I left a message.

“Dad! I found Mom. We’re here at Gran’s cottage. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

Mom’s face emerged from under the water. “No?”

“He must have had to turn off his cell on the airplane.”

“Can’t stay here.” She nodded to the garage door. “Freshies…looking for me…”

I looked through the water and saw what she saw. The light from inside the boathouse peeked out from under the garage door into the inky water. The mer-dudes could just swim right under the door and find us.

I turned off the light.

“I need to get you out of the lake.”

“Need water…no use…” Mom had given up.

But I wasn’t giving up on her. Not after everything she’d been through these past couple of weeks, not to mention the last year. From now on, every problem had to have a solution because there was no way I was letting Mom down.

“I said out of the lake, not out of the water.” I let my eyes adjust to the dim light and pulled the drain plug from the rowboat. The wooden seat slipped out of the grooves easily to make room. Once the boat was half full, I plugged the hole to keep the water from draining back out and pulled Mom over the side. “There’s no way those Freshie jerks are getting anywhere near you.”

Mom lifted her hand out of the water and stroked my cheek.

“Hurricane Jade.”

I laughed. “I’m not done yet.”

I hooked the rowboat onto the pulley system to lift it out of the water. The chains strained and creaked as they lifted the boat a good four feet out of the water. Good thing Dad had his engineer hat on when he built the boat lift. Ten trips to Home Depot and that thing was strong enough to lift an elephant. And unless those Freshies took lessons from the dolphins at Sea World, there was no way they could get to her.

I poked my head over the side of the boat to see. “You okay in there?”

Mom nodded and smiled.

“What’s got you smiling?” It was so nice to see her happy again.

“The thought of the ocean…”

“So, now do you believe I can get you there?”

“If anyone can, it’s you…”

I jumped when I heard a car door slam.

“I should go see if that’s Gran. You sure you’re okay? Is it full enough?”

Mom nodded and sank back into the water in the rowboat. I ducked out the boathouse door and stepped onto the dock.

The sun had disappeared behind the trees, making it hard to see. I glanced up to Gran’s cottage, but there were no lights to indicate she was home. Not like I could enlist her in our little plan, but my options were getting very narrow.

Someone giggled. I turned and could just make out
an SUV through the trees. Its running lights dimmed and blinked out. That must have been the car door from before.

Two dark figures strode down toward the Beckers’ dock.

“Wait for me!”

Chelse.

A deep voice answered. The door of their boathouse creaked open then slammed shut. When I noticed the outline of the canoe still at the dock, a plan started to form. Hopefully, Chelse and her boyfriend would be occupied for a while. I’d need a couple of things from Gran’s if this was going to work.

I raced to the cottage and rifled through the junk cupboard in Gran’s den. There, I found a mini first-aid kit and the extra fanny pack she used to carry her bingo dabbers.

I dumped out the bandages from the first-aid kit and tested my cell phone in the plastic pouch. Perfect. And waterproof. After my last cell got wrecked, I couldn’t take any chances. This phone had already taken a quick dunk back at the Beckers’ dock, but now, more than ever, it needed to stay high and dry in case Dad called back.

I popped up to my bedroom in the attic and rifled through my overnight bag. Halfway down the bottom, I found it. The Michaela tankini. It was like a sign.

I stripped off my wet clothes and pulled on the bathing suit along with a dry T-shirt and shorts, then searched my purse for anything else that might come in useful. With the fanny pack snug around my waist, I raced back downstairs
and scribbled a note on the back of Gran’s Sudoku puzzle book where she was sure to find it.

Hi Gran,

Sleeping over at Cori’s. Call me if you need anything. 555-1212.

Love, Jadie

xoxoxo

Finally, I searched the bathroom closet and found the last item on my mental list. I grabbed the container and headed back to the boat shed.

Mom was gonna love this.

Bath salts?
Mom’s laugh sent a spray of bubbles to the surface of the water. I sprinkled the last of the crystals into the rowboat.

“Not quite the Atlantic Ocean, but I figured you could use a bit of pampering.”

It’s perfect.
She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.
Thank you, Jade.

“It’s already dark; we should get going. Ready?”

You sure?
Mom asked.

“Surer than sure.”

I paddled the canoe until well past midnight, towing the rowboat. The moonlight blazed a path of white light across the rippling waves. The only other light came from the occasional cottages and houses dotting the shores of Talisman Lake.

Right before I’d snatched the canoe from the Becker’s wharf, I thought I heard Chelse laugh. I hope she’d forgive me for leaving her stranded, but from the sounds of the deep male voice coming from the boathouse, I didn’t think she’d mind an excuse for missing curfew.

I hadn’t heard much from the rowboat in the past half hour, and I hoped Mom was resting or at least enjoying the ride. Meanwhile, my hands were beginning to sprout blisters the size of golf balls and something was digging into my right knee.

“How far do you think we’ve gone?” I hoped I was traveling at least at walking speed but towing a rowboat for five miles, half submerged in water, was proving to be a bit of a handicap.

Instead of Mom’s ringing voice I heard splashing from the rowboat.

“What’s the matter?” I managed to sidle up with the canoe and checked on her. But the gunwales of the boat were now level with the surface of the lake.

Sinking…

“Darn. The plug must be loose.” I untied the bailer. “Can you rest in the lake for a sec?”

Mom moved to the stern, forcing that side of the boat low into the lake. The salt must have given her and extra boost of strength because she slipped easily into the water.

“Can you tell if any Freshies are nearby?” I asked as I bailed.

Mom poked her head out of the water.

“Most of them hang out near the bridge. It’s Finalin and Medora we have to worry about. They could be anywhere.”

She dove again, then resurfaced.

“I just don’t get why the other Freshies just do whatever Finalin tells them to do.”

“Finalin and Medora have had a long time to get used to the fresh water and can go as far as Dundee to hunt. They use that little skill as leverage.” She disappeared underwater again.

“Hopefully they’ll
stay
in Dundee.”

Don’t worry, I usually hear them before I see them and I’m not hearing anything right now,
she called out from below.

“Can they hear us?”

She surfaced. “We should probably keep our conversations above water to be on the safe side. But they wouldn’t be able to understand us either way. Mermish and English aren’t exactly sister languages.”

I shook my head and laughed as I dumped more water back into the lake. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this whole mermaid thing.”

Mom dove and swam over to the side of the canoe. Her face emerged from the water.

“You don’t ever have to get used to it, Jade. Not if you don’t want to.” Her eyes held mine and she stroked my hand. “No one will fault you for never wanting to be a part of this life.”

It was true. The whole mermaid thing turned my stomach; Mom nailed it. Still, I felt guilty. How could I hate
something that was so much a part of me, such a part of Mom? But being a mermaid had only been a big huge pain. And it was the thing keeping Mom from being home with us, where she belonged.

I changed the subject.

“You sound much better.” I bailed the water as quickly as I could until the rowboat sat higher in the water, then made sure the plug was snug.

“The salt really helped.”

“Some probably leaked out along the way, but there should still be a little left. You should get back in before anyone notices you.”

Mom slipped back over the stern and settled in.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

Mom nodded, just below the surface.

I started paddling again, digging deep into the water to get the momentum of the canoe and rowboat going.

I wish there was something I could do to help,
Mom called from within the rowboat.

“Believe me, once you get back home, you are SO baking me cookies,” I joked.

My hands ached as the paddle’s wooden shaft rubbed at my blistered palms. I tried to distract myself and thought back to when I’d gotten my first period. How I’d wished Mom was there to ask questions. So much had changed in just a few short weeks. I’d turned into a mermaid (twice), escaped from a horde of criminal mer-people, and rescued Mom from a makeshift dock prison.

Ha! If I could get through all that, a few blisters weren’t about to hold me back.

I paddled for another hour or so, when suddenly, off in the distance, a string of lights caught my eye.

“It’s the bridge!”

I heard Mom lift her head out of the water, no doubt turning to see. “You did it, Jade!”

“I know!” I couldn’t remember a time when I felt so happy. I paddled and focused on the bridge lights, imagining what it would be like when Mom was home. Finally home.

Then, as I pulled the paddle back, I felt something brush my hand.

Something damp and hairy.

I screamed.

“What? What is it?” Mom asked.

They found us.

“The Freshies!”

I brought my canoe paddle up and whacked at the hands with the blade. They grabbed at the sides of the boat between blows.

“Jade!” Mom’s pale face shone like the moon in the dim light.

“They must have followed the salt water from the leaky plug.”

Whack! Whack!

“Be careful!” Mom called out.

The canoe shifted and juddered beneath me as I struck
the hands with the paddle. But there was another motion. A rocking motion. I reached out to steady myself.

“They’re trying to tip me over!” I called out to Mom, but I’m sure that by the time my words reached her ears, I was already in the water.

And sinking fast.