A Mischief of Mermaids (10 page)

“Totally ridiculous,” said Poppy, pushing her chair back so that she could see the girl more clearly. “Are you interested in mermaids?”

The girl gave Poppy an odd, sidelong grin.

“You could say that,” she said. “But even so, I'd never pay good money to see a creature that looked as daft as that.”

Poppy glanced down at the book. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Of course, this was back in the olden days, before nature shows on TV and science magazines and the Internet. People didn't know any better.”

“Idjits,” the girl declared with an annoyed shake of her head. “Just take a look at this!” She dropped her backpack to the floor, picked up another book from the desk, and gave a little sniff of disdain as she examined the cover. It showed an angelic-looking mermaid perched on a rock and simpering at a sailor on a ship.

“Totally daft,” she said. “Who'd be sitting on a burning hot rock in the sun when they could be swimming? Who'd want to make cow eyes at a man?”

She held up the book so Poppy could see it, too.

“Especially a man who wears one of those little round sailor hats,” she added.

But Poppy only half heard her. She was staring at the girl's hand.

There were delicate webs of skin stretched between each finger. A dark green bracelet of lake weed was wound around each wrist. In the dim light of the library, the girl's skin seemed to have a greenish blue tone.

“You—you . . .” Poppy's voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You're the girl at the lake. I saw you dancing on the shore.” She paused again, then said in a rush, “I saw you dive into the water.”

The girl's grin widened. She raised one eyebrow. “Did you now?” she said. “That must have caught your attention. Someone deciding to take a swim when they were at a lake—”

“I know you're a mermaid,” said Poppy, more loudly than she meant to.

“Shh,” someone sitting at a table two bookshelves over hissed.

Now that Poppy realized who the girl was, she was surprised she hadn't recognized her right away. She'd had the same stormy expression on her face when the others had teased her about her dancing. . . .

Poppy snapped her fingers. “Nerissa,” she said. “That's your name. Nerissa. What are you doing here?”

Nerissa's chin lifted defiantly. “I ran away.”

“You did? Why?” Poppy frowned down at Nerissa's feet. “And I don't mean to be rude, but . . . how? What happened to your tail?”

Nerissa tossed her head. “All mermaids can walk on land when the conditions are right,” she said. “You didn't learn about that in all your books, did you?”

“Well, actually—” Poppy began.

“It takes a blue moon,” said Nerissa, “and a spirit of adventure, of course.”

Poppy's fingers itched to pick up her pencil and start making notes, but she worried that it might offend Nerissa, so she just said, “But then why haven't more people met mermaids? There's a blue moon almost every year.”

“I know!” said Nerissa. “You'd think they'd take advantage of it. But most mermaids are happy just hanging around in the same water for centuries, swimming with dolphins and teasing seals and sitting around on rocks combing their hair. And, of course, most mermaids think human beings are silly and kind of, well, dim. They're always joking about how easy it is to play tricks on people. So most of them aren't very interested in pretending to be one, even for a few days.”

“Oh.” Poppy tried not to sound as offended as she felt. “So if you think people are such idiots, why are you here?”

Nerissa's eyes widened in dismay. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” she said quickly. “I'm not like all the other mermaids. In fact, I've always wondered . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Wondered what?” Poppy asked.

“I always wondered what it would be like to be mortal,” Nerissa said in a low voice, her eyes shifting around the room as if she were afraid of being heard. “That's one of the reasons the others make fun of me.”

Poppy thought back to that horrible moment when she thought the mermaids were going to pull her under the water. Nerissa had argued with them, told them they shouldn't do it. . . .

“They said you had a warm heart,” she said. “That you were
mer
on the outside and—”

“Mortal in the middle,” Nerissa finished bitterly. “Just because I think people are interesting and want to learn more about them. What's so wrong with being interested in the world and having a sense of curiosity and wanting to learn something once in a while, instead of just floating around in a lake somewhere?”

“Nothing,” said Poppy.

“Honestly!” Nerissa was getting more worked up. “It drives me crazy, the way they don't care about anything except singing to the fish and looking at their reflections!”

She kicked the base of the bookshelf. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and began hopping on the other foot. “Ow. That
hurt
.”

She sounded so astonished that Poppy laughed.

“Yeah, that's what happens when you get mad and kick something,” she said. “You bruise your toes.”

Nerissa frowned. The room darkened. Poppy glanced at the window and saw that the sky had clouded over.

“I should know,” Poppy added hastily. “I've done it a few times myself. I always think that kicking something will make me feel better, but it never does.”

Nerissa relaxed and smiled slightly. A shaft of sunlight came through the window.

“I guess I'm not used to having feet,” she admitted. “Or toes.”

Nerissa wiggled her toes thoughtfully, then picked up
Mermaids in Myth, Legend, and Life
. “I'd like to read a book like this about mortals,” she said. “Is there one in the library?”

“I don't think so,” said Poppy. “I mean, there aren't really myths or legends about people.”

Nerissa raised one eyebrow. “Oh no?” she said. “You mean you haven't heard the story about the boy who planted a bean and then climbed the beanstalk to the sky, where he met a giant?”

“That's just a fairy tale,” said Poppy. “It's not true. It's not about a real person. And people aren't that interesting anyway.”

“Not to you, because you are one,” Nerissa replied. “That's why you have no idea how strange you all are.”

Poppy frowned. “I wouldn't say we're strange—” she began.

“Or how funny you sound,” Nerissa added.

Poppy's frown deepened. “What do you mean by that?”

“Or how peculiar you look,” added Nerissa.

“Hey, listen—” Poppy began hotly, but Nerissa didn't let her finish.

“Oh, there now. I've gone and insulted you without meaning to,” she said quickly. “I'm sorry. Really, I'm fascinated by mortals.”

“Right,” Poppy said, frowning. “Even though we're all weird. And funny-sounding.”

“Only because I don't know much about you,” said Nerissa. She gave Poppy a meaningful look. “Just like you don't know much about mermaids. I bet you think we're a little odd, too.”

Poppy felt her hurt feelings start to fade. “That's true,” she admitted.

Nerissa leaned in closer. “I have an idea,” she said. “Let's make a deal. I'll tell you about mermaids, if you'll tell me about mortals.”

Poppy thought about that for a moment. “So,” she finally said, “where are you going to stay while you're here?”

“Stay?” asked Nerissa, puzzled.

“Yes. You can't just hang out on your own,” Poppy explained. “People notice kids who don't seem to have anyplace to go. Sometimes they call the police.”

For the first time, Nerissa looked unsure of herself, but she shrugged. “I'll hide,” she said. “I'll make sure no one sees me.”

“You could,” agreed Poppy. She paused, then added, “Or you could come home with me.”

W
hen Poppy and Nerissa walked up the sidewalk, the front door of the Malones' house was ajar and all the windows were open.

Poppy sighed. “The air-conditioning must be out again,” she said to Nerissa. “Sorry. It's going to be pretty hot.”

“I don't mind,” Nerissa said brightly. Her mood seemed to change like the weather on a spring day. Her face was shining as she looked at the house. She ran lightly up the porch steps, dropped her backpack, and did a little pirouette. “I've never seen a mortal's home before. What's this?”

She pressed the doorbell. Her eyes widened with delight when she heard the chime, and she pressed it again.

“Please,” said Poppy. “Stop.” (Mr. Malone had bought the doorbell from a specialty catalog; it rang the theme from the movie
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
. Poppy could never hear it without wincing and planned to quietly disable it at some point before she invited any new friends over.)

“It sounds so pretty,” Nerissa was saying, just as Mrs. Malone came to the door.

“Oh, there you are, Poppy,” she said, smiling over the top of her glasses. “And just in time, too!”

“In time for what?” asked Poppy warily.

But Mrs. Malone's gaze had moved to Nerissa. “Who is your new friend, dear?”

“This is Nerissa,” said Poppy. “Nerissa, um”—she thought quickly—“De La Mer.”

Two schools ago, she had taken French and learned that
de la mer
meant “of the sea.” Poppy crossed her fingers and hoped that Nerissa would go along with the new last name she'd just been given.

She needn't have worried. Nerissa was opening and closing the metal flap of the mailbox next to the door, a look of utter fascination on her face.

“It's so nice to meet you, Nerissa,” said Mrs. Malone. “What a lovely name. Would you like to join us?”

“For what?” Poppy asked, grabbing Nerissa's arm and pulling her away from the mailbox.

“We were just about to have a family brainstorm!” said Mrs. Malone, opening the screen door. “They're such fun, Nerissa. We'd love to have you help out. I'm sure you'll have wonderful ideas.”

Poppy rolled her eyes, but Nerissa said, “Thank you, I'd be glad to help!” and practically skipped through the doorway in her delight.

Before Poppy could follow her, Mrs. Malone whispered, “I'm so glad you've made a new friend, Poppy. Where does she live?”

“Oh, a few blocks away,” said Poppy vaguely. “Would it be okay if she stayed over tonight?”

A tiny furrow appeared on Mrs. Malone's forehead.

“Her mother said it was okay, and I said you wouldn't mind,” Poppy added quickly.

Mrs. Malone said, “Well, I really should call her myself. Do you have her number?”

“Um, Nerissa does, but her mother's out running errands right now,” Poppy improvised. “She'll be around later this afternoon if you want to talk to her.”

“All right. Be sure to remind me,” said Mrs. Malone as they went inside, where almost the whole family had gathered in the living room. Will was sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed. Rolly was sitting on the window seat and drumming his heels against the wall with a steady, dull beat. Mr. Malone was slouched in his favorite rocker. Only Franny, who was still with her new friend, Ashley, was missing.

Once Mrs. Malone had introduced everyone to Nerissa, she perched on one end of the couch, holding a pencil and her small memo pad.

“Now, it's time to address the question at hand,” she said in a businesslike way. “Your father and I have decided that the best way to have a close encounter with an alien civilization is to invite them to join us, so we plan to beam a message into the universe as soon as we get back to the houseboat. Naturally, the invitation must be extremely compelling. After all, there are quite a few galaxies in the universe that they might want to visit—”

“One hundred and twenty-five billion, to be exact,” said Poppy.

Mrs. Malone paused. “Excuse me, dear?”

“That's how many galaxies there are in the universe,” Poppy explained. “One hundred and twenty-five billion. So when you think about it, the odds that they would come to a little planet in a tiny solar system in an out-of-the-way galaxy like ours—well, they're pretty small.”

“Exactly my point,” said Mrs. Malone. “And all those galaxies have many, many, many planets, so we must craft a message that really makes them want to come to see us, here on the planet Earth. It's quite a challenge! So, now”—she held out her pencil, poised over the open notebook as if about to jot down a flood of ideas—“if you could send any message to aliens who may be visiting our planet, what would it be?”

“This sounds like the kind of creative homework assignment that Mrs. Gillespie used to give in English class,” Will remarked without opening his eyes. “She thought writing about what you did on your summer vacation was damaging to the human spirit, so she kept making us be
creative
.” He made a gagging noise.

“Please, Will, we have a guest,” said Mrs. Malone. “So, any ideas? Don't be shy. Remember, there's no such thing as a bad—”

“We could ask them to come to dinner,” suggested Rolly. “We could give them our address. We could say, please come to 1219 Arden Lane, Austin, Texas, the United States—”

“The Earth, the Milky Way, the Universe,” Poppy and Will finished in a chorus.

“Thank you, Rolly,” said Mrs. Malone. “That's a very interesting idea indeed. But perhaps we shouldn't be
too
welcoming—”

Rolly stopped drumming his heels long enough to look insulted. “Why not? You said we wanted them to come over.”

“Yesss,” she replied. “But—”

“And you said that there's no such thing as a bad idea,” he went on with relentless logic.

“That's right, I did, but—”