Emily Windsnap and the Monster From the Deep (3 page)

She pulled me toward her and hugged me tight. “Good. Right,” she said. “You silly thing, you’re shaking.” She squeezed me tighter. “Come on, it’s okay. Let’s get these veggies done, and we’ll try not to think about big wells and the deepest depths of the ocean, okay?”

“Okay.” I forced a smile. “I’ll try.”

We worked in silence after that. I couldn’t think of anything to say. All I could think was that it would take more than chopping a few onions to make me forget the fear I’d felt out there, clutching and snapping at me like a shark trying to drag me to the bottom of the sea.

Mermaids? Yeah, right!

You’re as bad as my dad.

He thinks they’re real, too. Thinks he’s seen one. He says it was on his way back from The Fisherman. That’s our local bar. Clear as day, he says.

“Well, that goes to show how reliable your vision is after ten beers,” my mom says. “You couldn’t even tell it was the middle of the
night
!”

“Clear as day,” he says again. “It’s just an expression, love.”

Mom says he’ll be seeing more than mermaids if he doesn’t start pulling his weight. Then she gets mad at me for leaving my
Girltalk
magazine lying around. That’s the only time she seems to notice me nowadays, when she’s nagging me about something. And Dad wouldn’t know if I disappeared altogether — he’s hardly ever around.

It wasn’t always like this. Just ever since we heard that the town council is planning to pull down our home. We live on a pier and they say it’s not
safe. The problem is, my parents work on the pier, too. So that’s job and home gone in one swift swing of a crane. Or blast of dynamite. However they do it.

The place is a dump, anyway. I don’t care what happens. Well, OK, maybe I do. But who cares what I think? I wish they did.

So today, Dad charges upstairs at lunchtime. He usually goes to the bar, but he says he’s been somewhere else.

“Where?” Mom eyes him suspiciously.

“Look,” he says. He’s got a magazine in his hand. A brochure.

Mom takes it from him.
“Mermaid Tours?”
she says. “Oh, for Lord’s sake, Jack, when will you grow up?”

“No, it’s not — it’s not —” he blusters. “It’s just the name of the company, Maureen. It caught my attention, that’s all.” He grabs the brochure back from Mom and rifles through it as though he’s looking for something in particular. “I’ve been looking for something to take our minds off everything. I thought this might help.

“There!” he says suddenly, opening it up and slamming it onto the table. Mom sits down to read it. I have a look, too. Not that I’m interested or anything. I just want to know what the fuss is about, that’s all.

“A cruise, Jack?” Mom looks at him in this way she has, with her tongue in her cheek and her eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappear into her hair. “We’re on the verge of losing our livelihood and you want us to spend every last penny we haven’t even GOT on some ridiculous vacation!”

Dad takes a deep breath. “Maureen,” he says in a rumble. When he speaks again, he says each word on its own, like he’s talking staccato. “What. Kind. Of. Fool. Do. You. Take. Me. For. Exactly?”

Mom gets up from the table. “You really don’t want me to answer that, Jack.”

“Mom, please don’t —” I start. But what’s the point? She doesn’t reply, doesn’t even look at me. I might as well not be here.

Hello! I am here, you know. I matter!

“Look!” Dad suddenly shouts. Dad never shouts. We both look. He’s pointing at the page. “I’ll read it to you, shall I?” And before we have time to answer, he starts reading.

“Enter our EXCLUSIVE contest, and you could win one of our superlative MERMAID TOURS vacations! Every month, one lucky reader will win this FANTASTIC PRIZE. Just complete the following phrase in thirty words or less: ‘Mermaid Tours are the best vacations around because . . .’

Remember to tell us which of our fabulous cruise vacations you’d like to go on, and mail the coupon to us. You could be our next lucky winner!”

Dad puts the magazine back on the table.

“Well,” Mom says, picking up the magazine. “A contest. Why didn’t you just say so?”

I roll my eyes at Dad. He clamps his jaw shut and doesn’t say anything.

Mom and Dad are complete fanatics about contests, especially Mom. She thinks she’s got a system. It works, too. Our home is littered with teddy bears and toasters and electronic dictionaries she’s won from stupid contests in magazines. We had three vacuum cleaners at one point. She even won a weekend getaway once. Not that I know much about that. She and Dad went without me. I had to stay at home with a babysitter while they went off to live it up in New York.

I’ll admit it, all right: it was the loneliest weekend of my life. I mean, so the prize was a vacation for two, but couldn’t they at least have asked if they could bring their daughter? Would it have hurt so much for the thought to have crossed their minds?

But this. Well, this is for all of us. And I wouldn’t mind a cruise vacation. Lying on a lounge chair on an enormous ship gliding through the ocean, hot
sun, warm pool, all the food I can eat, nonstop desserts, and no one to stop me from drinking as much soda as I want. I’ve heard about these vacations. It’s all included.

“You know how good you are at these things,” Dad says, edging closer to Mom.

“Don’t try flattery, Jack,” Mom says. “It doesn’t suit you.”

But I know she’ll do it; she can’t resist. I catch Dad’s eye. He winks, and I half smile back. Well, he’s still stupid, believing in mermaids.

Later that day, I see Mom leafing through the brochure. “Look at this one,” she says. I glance over her shoulder.

Bermuda and the Caribbean. Experience the magic for yourself. Enjoy all the comfort and enchantment of our Mermaid Tours cruise. Swim with dolphins. Bask in year-round sunshine heaven.

“That’s the one, I’d say.” She nibbles the side of her mouth. “Okay, leave me alone now. I need to think.”

She won’t show either of us what she’s written. Says it’ll jinx it. But something changes around the place after she’s sent it off. Mom and Dad get along; they even smile at each other occasionally.
We all start talking about what we’ll do on our cruise and what it’ll be like. All of us, all in it together — it feels great! For a few days. The contest ends in a week.

But then the week’s up, and we don’t hear anything. Another week passes, and another, and another. Nothing.

We haven’t won. Mom’s luck’s run out after all.

And gradually, the sniping at each other starts again, and the being so wrapped up in themselves that they forget to think about me. Back to normal. And underneath it all is the looming truth that no one’s saying out loud, that we’re about to lose everything.

Well, why should I expect anything different? It is
my
life we’re talking about here.

Oh, I haven’t told you my name yet, have I?

It’s Mandy. Mandy Rushton.

I jumped out of bed. Shona was arriving today!

Shona’s my best friend. She’s a mermaid. Full-time. Not just when she goes in water, like me. Back home — I mean, back in Brightport — I used to sneak out at night to meet up with her. That was before anyone knew about me being a mermaid. Now we could see each other every day!

I couldn’t believe it when she said they were coming too. It was Neptune’s idea, but I’d never met her parents and didn’t know if they’d agree to it. Mind you, looking around me, it was hard to imagine anyone not wanting to come to live here. As long as you didn’t go anywhere near the
edge of the Triangle. Or think about what might be down there, under the island . . .

Well, I wasn’t going to think about that today. I’d stick close to the coast, like Mom said, and everything would be all right. It all looked different this morning anyway. Nothing this beautiful could be dangerous. I’d gotten it all out of proportion yesterday. Like my old teacher used to say, I’ve got a good imagination.

Dad swam up to the trapdoor in the living room as I was getting some breakfast. “There’s someone here for you, little ’un,” he said. “And look, I got you something.”

He darted away as someone else appeared below me. Someone with long blond hair and a big smile. Shona!

I shoveled a last spoonful into my mouth and jumped down through the trapdoor with a splash. My legs melted away, turning into a tail.

“I couldn’t wait to see you,” Shona said, swimming toward me to hug me tight.

I hugged her back. “When did you get here?”

“Late last night.” She nodded toward the porthole she’d swum through. “Althea brought me over to North Bay. She lives next door to us at Rocksea Cove. Come and meet her.”

“Oh. Great,” I said. I wasn’t going to have
Shona all to myself then? But there was so much to catch up on! Well, I suppose we’d find time soon — and at least I was going to meet another mermaid.

“Here you are.” Dad swam back over, smiling broadly as he held something out to me. A doll. It had bright red spots on its cheeks, golden hair, and a frilly pink tail.

“Um. Thanks, Dad.”

“You like it?” he asked, anxiously tugging at his ear.

“Sure. I’ll play with it later, perhaps.”

“I wanted to give you something like this years ago. I’ve been saving it,” he said, his eyes going all misty and dreamy. They seemed to do that a lot. I don’t know if he realized I was nearly thirteen. “I mean, I know it’s a bit childish, but . . .”

“No, it’s fine, Dad. It’s great. Thanks.”

Once we were outside, I grimaced at Shona, and she laughed. Then I had a pang of guilt. “Hang on,” I said. I swam back in to the boat and kissed Dad on the cheek. It isn’t his fault I grew up without him. It isn’t his fault we haven’t worked out how to communicate with each other yet, either. It will come. It has to. I mean, it’s great being with him, but we’ve hardly had a real conversation. It feels as if we don’t quite know how to at times.

“What’s that for?” he asked, lifting his hand to his cheek.

I shrugged, smiling briefly. “See you later,” I said.

Outside the boat, a mergirl with jet black hair tied back in a ribbon was waiting in the water with Shona. The ribbon looked as if it was made out of gold seaweed. Her tail was green, with silver stars painted on the end.