To Catch a Mermaid (15 page)
“Boom,” Mertyle called.
“Go help your sister,” Halvor said. When he noticed the missing kebob, he shook his fist at the seagull. “You thieving rat of the sea!”
Before Boom ran to check on Dr. Buncle’s progress, he glanced at his father. A deep longing pulled at him. But the thundering of patent-leather-clad feet on the porch, and the pounding of eager fists on the door, announced the arrival of the party guests.
Stair Surfing
B
oom stood in the entryway between the front door and the stairs that led to the second floor. Outside the door stood Daisy and her horde; at the top of the stairs stood Mertyle and Dr. Buncle. Boom’s head shot right, then left, then right again, like he was watching a tennis game.
“Greet the guests,” Halvor called from the kitchen.
Mertyle gasped, holding out her fuzz-covered arms. “Oh no! I’m not ready.” She ran into the bedroom and slammed the door. Dr. Buncle clung tightly to the rail at the top of the stairs.
“That’s a long trek down,” he muttered. “Might take me all afternoon. Should have packed a sack lunch.”
Daisy Mump pounded on the front door again. Boom couldn’t let the little girls in and risk having them speak to Dr. Buncle. The Brooms had enough problems without the entire neighborhood talking about fungus. That wouldn’t go over well at school. Nurse Krud already picked through Boom’s hair every other week, mistaking dandelion seeds for head lice. Didn’t need to add a search for body fungus as well. He had to get the doctor out of the house before the party began.
Boom ran up the stairs and took the doctor’s elbow.
“Whoa there, Nelly. Give an old man some room to navigate these confounded stairs. This is like descending Mount Everest.”
Suddenly, Boom had a great idea. Well, maybe not a
great
idea — not like Mr. Franklin deciding to fly a kite in an electrical storm, or Dr. Fleming deciding to turn mold into medicine — but it was an idea that, if implemented, would solve an immediate problem. “You can go faster if you bump down the stairs on your bottom,” he suggested.
Dr. Buncle twisted his neck and peered at Boom. “Young man, whatever do you mean?”
“Like this.” Boom bumped his way down and reached the last step in less than two seconds. “Go on, give it a try. It’s fun.” Of course, there was the possibility that the doctor would break into a million pieces, but Boom was willing to risk it to keep Halvor and the party guests and all the neighbors from finding out about Mertyle’s Ick.
“Hey! We’re here!” Daisy Mump yelled. “The wind is messing up our hair.”
“Boom, get the door,” Halvor ordered from the kitchen.
Boom ran up the stairs and demonstrated again. “Come on, Dr. Buncle. It’s fun, really it is.”
Dr. Buncle chuckled. “Why yes, I should like to try that.” With much shifting and bending and groaning, Boom helped the old doctor into a seated position. Boom gave a gentle push to get things going. Bump, bump. “Oh,” the doctor said. Bump, bump. “My word.” The descent was steady, though still slower than Boom had anticipated.
The stairs vibrated as Daisy and her groupies threw their bodies against the door. They had turned themselves into a patent-leather battering ram. Boom slid down the stairs and opened the front door just enough to stick out his head. “You’re ten minutes early,” he snarled.
“So?” Daisy asked, puffing out her pink cheeks. The wind billowed her skirt.
“So, the party hasn’t started yet. Wait here.” He shut the door and locked it but doubted that a single bolt could keep Daisy Mump out. That little body of hers was short but stout. She could probably throw herself against the door all afternoon.
Dr. Buncle was only about one third of the way down. Bump, bump. “Oh, my spine.” Bump, bump. “Oh, my gallbladder.”
“Good job,” Boom said, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Almost there. Go, Dr. Buncle, go!”
The scent of mud tickled Boom’s nostrils. He looked up to find that the merbaby sat at the top of the stairs. She had managed to get out of the bathroom!
He started to wave at the creature. “Get back, get back.” But the baby wasn’t about to take orders from Boom. She peered down at him and smiled most evilly. Boom kept waving. “Go,” he said. “Go!”
“Don’t hurry me, young man,” the doctor said as Boom jumped up and down, waving wildly.
“Go back to the bathroom,” Boom cried, but the baby still did not obey.
“I don’t need to use the bathroom,” the doctor said. Bump, bump. “After all this impact, I may never be able to use the bathroom again.” Bump, bump.
Boom didn’t know what to do. Daisy kept hurling herself like a cannonball against the door, and the hinges had begun to groan under the impact. That old door couldn’t hold out much longer. The baby swung her blue-green tail around and sat at the edge of the top stair. Then, with a little push, she slid down the stairs like a professional surfer, skimming over the top of each step like the wind skims over a roof. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Fortunately, Dr. Buncle was too busy bumping to notice.
“Wow,” Boom said when the baby landed at his feet. She flapped her tail and snorted happily. Then she snatched the fish kebob from Boom’s pocket. After consuming the greasy meal, she pointed the sharp kebob stick at him. Was she going to stab him? Poke him to death right in the middle of the day? Boom held his breath, waiting for the baby to make the next move. To his relief, she simply stuck the stick back into his pocket. The ground shuddered as Daisy rammed the door.
“Let us in!”
“Boom!” Halvor called out.
Boom needed to get that baby back upstairs. She seemed to be in a good mood after stair surfing, so he reached forward to pick her up. She growled at him. “Okay, okay,” he said, taking a step back. It had occurred to Boom that if the baby could make a banana tree sprout from a bathroom floor, she could also make one sprout from a person’s head. “I won’t touch you,” he assured her. “But you’ve got to get back upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” the doctor asked with alarm.
“No, not you, Doctor. You need to come
downstairs.
”
“Confounded confusing.” Bump, bump.
The merbaby began to make her way back up the stairs, pulling herself with her green hands right past the doctor, who twisted his neck and peered at her. “That’s the strangest iguana I’ve ever seen,” Dr. Buncle commented as the baby flopped past. “In my day we didn’t have exotic pets. We put slugs in jars, and when they shriveled up we threw them in the trash.” Bump, bump. “Oh, my kidneys.” Bump, bump. “Lord have mercy.”
“Mertyle,” Boom cried out as the baby arranged herself for another slide. This was all Mertyle’s fault. She was supposed to be merbaby-sitting, not getting dressed for some stupid party. “Mertyle, come and get
you-know-who
!”
Down came the merbaby again, laughing as she slid past the doctor. Laughing as she slid right across the floor and crashed into the front door.
“What’s going on out there?” Halvor called.
“Nothing,” Boom called back. “Nothing is going on out here.”
Let it be known that that particular lie was one of the greatest lies to ever come out of the mouth of a twelve-year-old. “Nothing” requires very little thought when an apple soars through someone’s window, or a kid blows a bubble on Principal Prunewallop’s playground. “Nothing” comes easily in common twelve-year-old situations. But when a merbaby is sliding down the stairs, “nothing” takes a great deal of self-control.
“Some assistance, if you please,” Dr. Buncle requested, having made it to the last step. With much twisting and snapping and groaning, Boom helped the doctor to his feet and pulled him toward the back door.
“Will you be coming back with the medicine?” Boom asked. “Or will you give us a prescription?”
Dr. Buncle, looking more than a bit disheveled, pulled a lollipop from his jacket pocket. “This is all the medicine your sister needs.”
Tangy tangerine. Surely he was joking. Surely he understood the extent of Mertyle’s condition? He had fungus expertise. “But she has Ick. She’s covered in fuzz.”
“There’s no such thing as Ick, young man. School glue and shredded cotton, that’s what she’s used this time. Such a delightful child. It will all wash off when she takes a bath, though it might clog the plumbing.” He handed the lollipop to Boom. “By the way, I found a rock crab in your hallway. You should call an exterminator.”
“Let us in! Let us in!” the little girls chanted.
“Boom, don’t make me come out there,” Halvor threatened.
The wind rushed in as Boom gave the doctor a little push out the back door. His visit had been a complete waste of time, like making the bed, or screwing the lid back on the marmalade jar, or getting dressed for a party that shouldn’t be happening in the first place.
Boom closed the back door, opened the closet door, then ran to the front door. The pressure was starting to get to him. This was really too much to expect of someone who just wanted a new pair of kicking shoes and a rematch. Way too much. Winger should be helping with all this, not sitting in church trying to break the stained glass with his falsetto.
“You’re still early,” Boom told Daisy, opening the door just an inch. Then he shut it again and locked it, just as the merbaby began another slide. This time Boom was ready. He stuck out his kicking foot and imagined that he was playing a game of Kick the Ball Against the Wall. When the baby slid across the floor, she ricocheted off his foot and slid right into the entryway closet, laughing and snorting all the way. Perfect aim. Ten points to Boom.
“Don’t leave this closet,” Boom warned, shaking his finger at the little menace. Thinking how hard it would be to live with a banana tree sticking out of his head, he softened his tone. “Stay there.”
The baby raised herself on her tail and furrowed her green brow, but not at Boom. She was staring at one of Halvor’s swords that was leaning against the back of the closet. Was this some sort of instinctual reaction, a survival mechanism passed down through mermaid generations? Even though the Vikings were long dead, she sensed their presence. “Stay in this closet because there are Vikings out here,” Boom warned. The baby’s eyes got really wide. “That’s right,
Vikings.
And they have axes and spears. So stay there or they’ll get you.” The baby sank into a pile of shoes and whimpered.
Boom shut the closet door. It wasn’t that he wanted to scare the little thing, he just needed her to stay hidden. He rushed upstairs and into his and Mertyle’s bedroom. “The baby got out of the bathroom,” he yelled at his sister. Mertyle had wrapped her head in a big scarf, like a turban. The Christmas dress lay on the floor. Instead, she had put on Boom’s striped turtleneck sweater, some orange mittens, and a long flowered skirt of Mrs. Broom’s that fell past Mertyle’s feet. Sure, she had covered all the fuzz, but she looked like some crazy street person. All she needed was a shopping cart.
“The doctor doesn’t believe me,” Mertyle blubbered, rubbing her eyes. “He thinks I’m faking. He thinks the fuzz will wash off in the bathtub.”
“This is just like ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf,’” Boom said, shaking his head. “Didn’t you ever read that story?” Mertyle didn’t answer. “There’s a moral to that story, Mertyle. You should have paid attention to the moral. That’s why they make us read those stupid stories. You’ve messed things up real good.”
“Me?” She pointed the magnifying glass at his face. “How have I messed things up? You’re the one who found the merbaby.”
“Yeah, but if you had let me sell it, like I wanted to, then none of this would be happening and we’d be rich and building my new arena.” Boy, did he feel mad. If he had had a big vein in his forehead, then it would most certainly have been bulging.
“How can you be so mean to me? I love the merbaby. She’s the only thing that makes me feel happy.”
“Happy? Hello. It made you sick.”
“She didn’t do that on purpose, and why do you keep calling her an
it
? That’s very insulting, Boom. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you.” Mertyle began to pull socks onto her fuzzy feet.
“Well, maybe I don’t like
it,
either. Ever thought of that? Maybe I don’t care if
it
likes me or not.”
“She needs us, Boom. She’s all alone. Just like me.”
That was about the last straw. “What do you mean you’re
all alone
?” Boom asked, feeling insulted. He tried to mimic his sister’s voice. “Poor me, poor me, poor little Mertyle. I’m so sad and sick. I can’t leave the house because it’s horrid and scary out there. I can’t leave the house because I’m stupid enough to believe that . . .” The goldfish bowl shook from another round of Daisy’s pounding. Boom’s anger got the best of him. “Do you think you’re the only one who feels alone? I feel alone too. I’m sick of being the only kid at school who doesn’t have a decent lunch and who wears the same coat every day. I’m sick of being the only one who does all the errands around here. I’m tired of telling everyone my dad’s busy painting. You’re not the only sad person in the world, Mertyle. What about me? You get all these wishes answered, and what about me? That stupid creature doesn’t think I’m worthy of wishes. How do you think that makes me feel? All you ever think about is yourself!”