Maybe a Mermaid Page 11

  No one was paying any attention to us. I dug my feet in the sand, closed my eyes, and imagined myself starting to swim—my arms shooting sprays of water in a steady one-two rhythm, and my head tilting to the side to gulp air. I visualized myself gliding across the water like someone in the Olympics. But what if there was a current? What if it sucked me under and I couldn’t swim back? In my mind, I saw my legs beginning to sink. My arms were still flying one-two, one-two, but my legs were deadweights, dragging my body deeper into the lake. I couldn’t touch the bottom with my toes, and no matter how hard I pumped my arms, I couldn’t hold myself above the surface. I turned my head to the side and gulped, but there wasn’t any air. And then I glimpsed the flash of a tail, wild hair … and fangs.

  “It’s not working,” I said. “I can’t visualize it.”

  “Difficult Is Just a Challenge,” Mom said. “Break it into Action Steps. Can you imagine putting your toes in?”

  I nodded.

  “How about your ankles? And your shins?”

  “Sure, but that’s not swimming.”

  “If I only set up one consultation today, is that my Pollination Goal for the month?”

  “No,” I said. “But that’s different. You’re laying the groundwork.”

  “Exactly!” Mom pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Lay some groundwork today, and tomorrow, you’ll be that much closer to your goal.”

  I knew she was trying to be nice, but I pulled the hair back out of place. She didn’t get it. She loved swimming. Sticking her head into Thunder Lake was a treat for her. Besides, as far as I could tell, her groundwork wasn’t bringing us much closer to anything. She’d added a few Potentials to her whiteboard, but her sales numbers hadn’t budged, mostly because she wasn’t following her own rules. She’d been a Negative Nelly all weekend, and she’d barely prepared for tomorrow’s B&B Home Party, which I’d practically had to force her to plan.

  “Speaking of goals,” I said. “How come Maddy’s mom isn’t on your Potentials list? She’s the one you need to target, don’t you think?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Not really,” I said. It wasn’t at all complicated. If she didn’t sign up enough Worker Bees to get promoted to Queen Bee, that was her own business. But the month-end bonus wasn’t about her, it was about the rent. She could try a little harder for Mr. Li. She could certainly try harder for me.

  “Is she coming to the Home Party tomorrow?” I asked. “Did you at least invite her?”

  Mrs. Nueske’s whistle blew, and Mom looked relieved.

  “You’d better head to class, sweetie. Good luck!”

  Shari the Tadpole Helper handed out white foam kickboards, and we spent the hour practicing float-and-kick techniques. It was surprisingly easy. The kickboard held you out of the water enough so you didn’t have to put your face in, and all you had to do was let your legs float up to the surface of the water and kick. The straighter your legs were, the more powerful the kick turned out to be.

  Josh and I were paired up for a race, and I gave it everything I had, zooming along at top speed like Namor, the Prince of Atlantis, in an X-Men battle. I could hear DJ yelling, “Go, Anthoni!” from the beach. I grinned. So what if I was only beating a kindergartner? I felt weightless and strong.

  “Great work, kids,” Shari said as we turned in our kickboards. “Next week, we’ll add our breathing exercises. Like this.” She held the board out in front of her and stuck her head in the water. As she kicked, she’d turn her head to the side to take a breath of air, then put her face back in. I groaned. It was useless. I’d never be able to do that.

  DJ practically ran me over as I stepped onto the beach. He threw my towel at my face. “I nabbed this from your mom. Nice swimming.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hugged the towel and tried to stop shivering. DJ picked at a scab on his knee.

  “So … see you on the flip side.”

  “Okay,” I said, though I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Julie was right. DJ was an odd duck.

  He got halfway up the beach before he tripped over a sandcastle. “I’m good!” he yelled as he brushed himself off and ran toward his aunt’s car, holding his cast in the air like a brandished sword.

  DJ was easily the klutziest person I’d met. It had taken me and Charlotte ten minutes to get him out from under the booth at The Showboat. Somehow he’d gotten his foot wedged beneath the seat, and since he couldn’t put weight on his cast, he’d tried to shimmy his way out and ended up with his head stuck between the table leg and the booth.

  “That kid is a walking disaster.”

  I turned to find Maddy, Kurt, and Julie standing behind me. Julie was carefully toweling off the blistering poison-ivy rashes on her arms.

  Kurt pretended to trip and fall. “I’m good,” he said in a dopey voice, making Maddy and Julie laugh.

  I glared at him.

  Maddy wore a black bikini with the Wolverine towel wrapped around her waist, and from the look on her face, it was clear she’d forgotten all about laughing, reading comics, and sharing secrets together.

  “You know DJ?” she asked. The tone of her voice told me the correct answer was “No,” but I nodded.

  “He lives by The Showboat,” I said.

  “That dude’s a nutjob,” Kurt said. “Runs in the family. I heard his dad’s in a mental ward.”

  I scowled at Kurt. DJ probably was a walking disaster, and he certainly was one of the strangest kids I’d known, but at least he wasn’t a jerk.

  “So what if he is?” I said. “No one in your family’s ever had to go to the hospital before?”

  Julie gave a guilty glance in Maddy’s direction before she said, “I think it’s cool you’re friends with DJ. He’s kind of gooney, but I guess that’s okay. It’s probably hard for some people to be normal all the time, and even gooney people need friends, so it’s nice you can do that. If you come to Maddy’s for fireworks on the Fourth, maybe you could bring DJ.”

  Kurt groaned. “Come on, Julie. DJ?”

  “Don’t worry,” Maddy said. “I don’t invite snoops, thieves, or vandals.”

  Julie sucked air through her braces and whispered, “Is DJ a vandalizer?”

  “I…” I didn’t know how to start. Of course I deserved it. I couldn’t take back snooping in Maddy’s closet or almost kidnapping her dolphin, but I felt like if I could make her remember how much fun we’d had together, the real Maddy would come back. The smiling, quiet, fun Maddy. I tried to think of something clever, some inside joke that would remind her that we were destined to be friends.

  All I could come up with was, “I shouldn’t have snooped in your closet, and I didn’t mean to knock over your stuffed dolphins. I’m sorry.” I meant it, too.

  Maddy’s whole body stiffened.

  Julie looked like someone had stabbed her in the heart. “You let Anthoni go into your studio?” she asked, but Kurt’s cackling drowned her voice out.

  “Stuffed dolphins?” He doubled over. “Quinn, you’ve been holding out on us!”

  Maddy’s eyes went all stony, and Kurt tried to wipe the smile off his face, but a smirk slipped out. “You don’t really have a furry dolphin collection, do you?”

  “At least I’m not a thief. Or a liar,” Maddy said.

  Clearly, this wasn’t going well. I tried to focus on Maddy’s smile. Maybe if I focused on that smile hard enough, it would come back and Evil Maddy would disappear. This wasn’t the real her. I knew it couldn’t be.

  “I wanted to see more of your Lexie drawings,” I said. “They’re so good.”

  “You’re still doing those drawings?” Julie squeaked, but Maddy didn’t look at her. “Of the scary mermaid?”

  The mermaid. It was my only hope.

  “I wasn’t lying about the mermaid,” I said.

  It was risky to say it at Maddy’s house, and it was even riskier to say it now. On a public beach. In front of Julie and Kurt. Even though Mom and I had
read online about vaudeville and the Boulays’ mermaid act, the article did say it was so realistic that people believed it was true. What if those people were right? What if Charlotte was serious when she’d said “magic” and “gills” helped her breathe underwater? Even though I knew better, there was still that word hovering in the back of my mind: Maybe.

  Most importantly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it felt laughing until my sides hurt in the Ski Nautique and smiling my face off in Maddy’s room. All warm and fuzzy. Happy. Mom’s newsletter quote kept running in my head like a mantra: Discover Her Secret Dream. Do What It Takes.

  “I can show you the mermaid,” I said.

  This put Kurt over the edge. He held his stomach like it hurt him to laugh so hard. “No wonder DJ likes her,” he said. “They’re perfect for each other. Nutjobs in looove.”

  “I’m not … I don’t even…” I sighed. “That’s really not cool, Kurt.”

  “It sounds like you guys had a great time,” Julie said. She scratched furiously at one of the scabs on her arm. “I’m glad you got to bond so much while I was busy writhing in pain. You know, people can die from poison ivy if they get it bad enough, but I’m glad you didn’t worry about me. I wouldn’t want to ruin all the fun.”

  I tried to block it all out—the beach, Julie’s poison ivy, Kurt’s laugh. I had to focus. Positive Thoughts Attract Positive Results. Maddy’s smile, I thought, Maddy’s smile, Maddy’s smile. And then, like a miracle, something in Maddy’s eyes shifted. Her stony stare softened, then brightened.

  “Okay, show me,” she said. And after she said it, she shot me the smile I’d been hoping for. I felt disoriented, like I’d been on one of those anti-gravity rides and my feet couldn’t remember what to do on the ground.

  Julie stopped itching. She looked hard at Maddy, and then at me. “Is this for real? Don’t do it without me, okay? I want to come. Please?”

  Kurt was gleeful. “This ought to be good. I’m in.”

  “Great,” I said. My voice sounded like it was coming out of someone else’s head. Relief and dread battled it out inside my brain, and depending on which won, I was either going to do backflips right there on the spot or puke my guts out. I took a deep breath. I had to keep it together. I had a mermaid to produce.

  24

  TRUE OR FALSE

  Mom mixed lemonade while I set out sixteen shades of Healthy Honey Glow Eye Shadow on the picnic table in the kitchen. She was still in her swimsuit, even though the guests were coming in less than an hour.

  “Why do we have so many eye shadows?” I asked. “There are twelve cases here.”

  “I had to buy some extra product last month to keep our numbers up.”

  Mom waved her hand like it was no big deal, but I frowned. How’d she pay for that? With the rent money? The credit card?

  “Don’t worry, we’ll sell it,” Mom said. She turned up the music, but I still heard her add, “Eventually.”

  I couldn’t stop thinking up ways Mom should have done things differently. She hadn’t sent out sample packs in April. In May, she’d skipped the promotional postcards. If you want to succeed, you need to complete all the Action Steps in your plan. That’s the way it works. Anything else is giving up. We had less than a week until the end of the month. If we wanted that bonus, this party had to go perfectly. Five Worker Bees—or one at the Premium level—weren’t going to recruit themselves.

  I almost didn’t hear the knock on the door, but Mom cut the music and shot me a panicked look. I knew the ladies from the beach were excited for the party, but who would arrive an hour early? I glared back at her.

  “I told you there wasn’t time for another swim,” I said.

  Mom grabbed a towel to cover up her swimsuit and shooed me toward the door.

  “You entertain them, I’ll go change.”

  I opened the door to find Maddy Quinn on the other side of the screen, her hands resting on the handles of an orange dirt bike. What was she doing here?

  “My mom says thanks for the invite, but she’s not coming,” she said. “It’s not really her thing.”

  “Okay.” I tried to act like it was no big deal, but Mrs. Quinn was our only Premium-level Potential. How did she know it wasn’t her thing if she’d never even tried it? Now Mom was going to have to get five Worker Bees to sign up today or find a way to prove to Maddy’s mom that she was missing out.

  Meanwhile, Maddy was still standing in front of The Blue Heron.

  “Do you … want to come in?”

  “No. I’ve got ski practice.”

  “Cool.”

  Maddy stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out a folded square of paper. A note? Did Maddy Quinn write me a note? She tossed the paper onto the doormat.

  “That’s for you,” she said, then hopped on her bike and rode away.

  Mom raced out of the bedroom in a bright-yellow sundress and pulled a batch of honey muffins out of the oven.

  “Who’s here?” she asked.

  “Maddy,” I said, shoving the note in my pocket. “Do you need more help? I really want to go outside.”

  “Yeah, I need you to…” Mom saw the look on my face and gave the room a quick survey. “I can take it from here. You go have fun with your friend, sweetie.”

  I threw on my backpack and sandals and wandered down the path through the woods, unfolding the note as I walked. It was a hand-drawn comic:

  GILLS: A MYSTERY

  by Maddy H. Quinn

  The first panel showed a fish with a dolphin in its mouth. The lettering read: Dolphin-stealer? Confirmed.

  In the second panel, the fish was reading a comic. Marvel girl? So she says.

  In the third panel, there were two smiling fish, both in diapers with pink bows on their heads. Best friend? Once upon a time …

  The final panel was broken into two sections. In one half, the fish wore a halo and had a giant, gold heart in its chest. Block letters shouted IS GILLS TRUE? In the other half, the fish’s heart was being devoured by Lexie. OR FALSE? Drops of blood dripped down her chin and formed themselves into the words: To be continued …

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off the happy baby fish. Best friend? Once upon a time …

  Maddy didn’t remember me as some kid she went to kindergarten and had a few laughs with. She remembered me as her best friend. True Blue was only one step away. I’d never been this close before. Messing it up was not an option.

  I heard a wild crunching of leaves and sticks, like a bear crashing through the forest, and I was on my butt before I knew what hit me.

  “Sorry, Gills!” DJ’s face flashed red. “I tried to slow down. Pine needles are slippery.”

  I shoved the note in my pocket and brushed the dirt off my backpack.

  “Do you ever watch where you’re going?” I asked.

  “Mmm … not really,” DJ said. “Anyway, I was running to find you. So that worked out.”

  * * *

  The kitchen of The Black Bear had been fully transformed into a rock museum. I picked up a piece of DJ’s Baraboo Quartzite and rubbed it in my hands, hoping the whole Wolverine stronger-under-pressure thing would rub off. The way this summer was going, I could use all the help I could get.

  “Here.” DJ handed me a heavy wooden jewelry box. “Check it out.”

  I set down the quartzite. The box was engraved with the words:

  100% CERTIFIED AUTHENTICITY

  Genuine Precious Stones

  from the Underwater City of Atlantis

  PROPERTY OF HERACLITUS BARNABUS BOULAY

  I opened the box and lifted a purple velvet cover from the inside. Three rocks sat nested in the center. The first was a bumpy, gray rock the shape of a giant egg. The tag next to it read: Collected from the Great Stone Portal to the Watery World. The second was similar to a piece of finger-length coral, but it changed from purple to blue to green as it shone and sparkled in the light. Collected from the Dazzling Outcroppings of the Western Realms. The third stone was as
tiny as a thumbnail—gold, and perfectly round. An Unprecedented Gift from the Trident of King Triton Himself.

  “Where’d you find this?”

  “On the kitchen counter,” DJ said.

  He held up a note that said For DJ. Signed, CB.

  “There’s something for you.”

  He handed me a paper bag scrawled with a giant “A.” There were two framed photos inside. One was the picture of the Boulay Mermaid I’d tried to smuggle off in my backpack. The other was of Lady Alice and her Dirty Rats.

  “Why doesn’t she want these anymore?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” DJ said. “Why does she have a secret doorway? Why does she talk in weird accents? Why does she dance like two people at once…”

  “Fair enough.”

  I examined the face of the miniature Boulay Mermaid. Her smile was wide and cocked to the side. Her crooked tooth jutted out over her bottom lip. That smile was Charlotte Boulay, through and through.

  “I still think it could be true,” I said. I wasn’t being hopeful or trying to make it true. I meant it. But I was surprised I’d said it out loud.

  “What could?”

  I turned the photo toward him and DJ got a big, silly grin on his face.

  “You think I’m gullible,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said, still grinning his freckles off. “It’s awesome!”

  “Gullible is awesome?”

  DJ nodded. “Kind of. People usually think I’m the one who’s goofy. It’s nice to be on the other side.”

  “Thanks a lot,” I said.

  DJ patted my shoulder awkwardly with his cast. “I meant it in a good way. Here,” he said, clearing a space on the table. “Give me a piece of your notebook paper.”