Secrets of Selkie Bay (3 page)

“You're not the boss of me. You're not…” Ione didn't finish. The unspoken words hung between us, like the only strand left of a broken spiderweb, dangling. I didn't have time for this. I didn't have time to mend the threads. I needed to get us to the Mermaid's Tresses, fast. The sooner Maura gave us jobs sweeping hair off the floors, the sooner we'd have money.

At this point, every little bit would help.

“I know, I know,” I said delicately. “I'm not the boss of you. But we're both the boss of Neevy. So we better get this baby moving before she starts thinking she's queen of the world or something.” It was like a dance sometimes, stepping carefully on the tips of my toes to keep Ione from starting a rage. I swung Neevy around, and she gave a deep baby chuckle. “See, she already thinks she's the queen of the world!”

I could see the emotions waging a battle right across Ione's face. Her eyes were narrowed, her nose was crinkled, but her mouth could not keep its frown. She
wanted
to be mad and she
wanted
to cry, but baby laughter is hard to resist.

“Queen of the world!” Ione repeated at last, taking Neevy from me and blowing on her belly to make her laugh harder. She swung her around and around, both of them giggling helplessly.

Moodiness avoided. For now.

In ten minutes, Ione was dressed and came wheeling around the corner, baby on her hip, having retrieved Neevy's collapsible pram from the closet. She unceremoniously dumped our sister in and buckled the strap. “Let's be quick about this.”

We didn't lock the door, for Ione's sake. She liked the idea of leaving the door unlocked for Mum, in case she'd forgotten her keys. Besides, nobody really locked their doors in Selkie Bay. It was a safe town, even during the tourist season. Now, if we lived farther down the coast where the water was clearer, the days warmer, and the sand softer, then we might have worries. But the coldish waters of Selkie Bay didn't attract the bad element. Da had always said as much.

We set out for downtown Selkie Bay, a good twenty-minute walk from home, if you walked fast, which I did. Ione fairly ran next to me. We passed the three pubs in the town square, the Sea Queen's Treasure, Grania's Pieces of Eight, and Grace the Bald's—all named after the legendary pirate Grace O'Malley. Hundreds of years ago, a ship from her fleet sank off the coast of the bay, filled with gold. They found the wreckage, but they never found the treasure. Not ever. Makes you wonder if there ever really was a treasure. That's the way it is with legends around here. Lots of talk about things, but not much concern for what's true and what isn't.

We sped by the pubs, holding our noses since they reeked of yesterday's tobacco. And yesterday's beer as well. The stink was awful.

We were out of breath when we got to the Mermaid's Tresses, the front of which was painted aqua with rich chestnut trim. Years ago, someone had carved a giant likeness of a mermaid with flowing hair from golden beech wood. The wooden sculpture now adorned the front of the salon. It gave the shop a magical quality, like you were about to enter a salon for enchanted princesses instead of the regular old hairstyling place that it was.

The front door was propped open with a brick. Maura saw us right away. She left a customer mid-snip and gathered Ione and me into a big hug. She smelled of the salon's signature seaweed-and-mint shampoo and her soft arms reminded me for a minute of Mum's, except Mum's weren't wrinkled or floppy.

“Oh, hello, my luvs,” Maura said. Then, handing me her shears, she unbuckled Neevy and picked her up for a snuggle. “Getting bigger every day. Still no hair.” Maura planted a kiss on Neevy's cheek and gave her a biscuit from the jar on the counter. “Help yourselves,” she said to Ione and me. Ione grabbed extras and stuffed them in her pockets. She knew Maura wouldn't mind. We had little money for fine treats like the ones in Maura's jar.

“You'll know Rose Sullivan's girls, don't you, Mrs. Gallagher?”

Mrs. Gallagher sat in the customer chair, with her wet, steel-gray hair dripping about her ears. She nodded, but didn't look us in the eye. That's what most folks did when they saw us, looked down or maybe off in another direction like there was something out there real important to see.
Poor Rose Sullivan's girls.

“Rose was the one with the magic fingers.” Maura winked at us and smiled.

Mrs. Gallagher's wet head bobbed again as she continued to study the linoleum.

“Alas, poor dearie,” she said under her breath.

“Um, Maura,” I said, playing with the chocolate biscuit. I was too nervous to eat it. “I was thinking maybe you could use some help, you know, sweeping up hair and the like.”

“Me too. I'll help, too,” said Ione. “If it's not for too long. I can't be gone from my house for too long, you know.”

Already Ione was getting antsy, shifting her weight from one side to the next like she had to use the bathroom, and we'd just arrived.

“I'm afraid I'll be closing up day after tomorrow. My sister is ill and I've got to move her down from Oringford before the height of the tourist season. August gets crazy around here, you know—and it's only two weeks away! So no appointments for the rest of July.”

My heart fell to my stomach. My whole reason for coming to the salon today was crashing to the ground.

“The Mermaid's Tresses won't be open for the rest of the month? Not at all?” I asked.

Maura shook her head. “Sorry, dears, but I can't leave my sister hanging when she needs me.”

My face felt warm. The money I had imagined flew away, out the window, like lonely birds.

“I wish I had the money to keep it open while I am gone, but I'm afraid I don't. Look around, Cordelia. It's only the locals needing cuts right now, and they can wait a bit if need be. But when folks come in from the cities for their holiday, they'll want to get spiffed up and I'll need to be ready. I make enough from August through October to keep myself nice and cozy all winter. Really hoping it's a strong season this year—with lots of selkie sightings!” Maura laughed and rolled her eyes a little. “But it's just not like it used to be. Check with me when I get back, luvs. I'll find something for you girls to do then. Sure and I will.”

I made my mouth smile, but I didn't really feel it in the rest of my face. Sweeping floors weeks from now wouldn't put money in our pockets today.

“Maybe you could try some of the other places here on the strip. I'm sure someone needs a hand.” Maura turned her attention back to the sheep-like head of Mrs. Gallagher.

“I don't want to work in one of those dumb stores,” whispered Ione to me as we walked over to the other side of the salon. “They'd probably make me clean the loo.” She plopped herself down in the second chair from the left, Mum's old chair.

“I don't want to, either,” I whispered, picking up Neevy and sitting with her on the floor. She played with my hand as she started to doze in my lap. “But I don't know if we have much choice. Da could use the money.”

Ione hadn't heard the phone call this morning. She hadn't heard the strain in Da's voice. But I had.

“Ione, maybe if we—” I said. But she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the empty sink, the one that Mum always used.

I glanced at the sink, then back at Ione, whose eyes were getting glassier by the second. The note from Mum was burning a hole in my pocket. I really wanted to tell Ione about it—but it said I needed to look after Ione, and that meant
not
worrying her.

“We'll take turns,” I said. “If we get a job, we'll split it.”

Ione curled her lips into a snarl as only she could. She picked up one of the magazines on the table next to her. “What kind of a person wants to read about n … nail p-p-polish and
bras
? What's
bras
?” she asked, pronouncing the word like
brass.
Then she chucked the magazine across the table, where it slid and knocked other magazines off.

“Nice,” I said. “Real nice, Ione. Pick those up so Maura doesn't have to.” She was about to get herself all worked up and refuse, I could see it in the way she held her shoulders, but I managed to head it off. “And when you're done you can read
this
. It's not about
bras.
I promise.”

Ione blushed and said, “Bras? Ewww.” Then she quickly grabbed the book I held out for her.

I'd put
A Child's Book of Selkies
in Neevy's diaper bag before we left
.
I'd been keeping it close by since I found it in my room, though I'm not sure why. Ione gave it a thumb-through. “I remember this book. Mum used to read it to us. It's got too big of words, though.”

“Do you want me to read you some of it?” I said, taking the book, holding it over the head of Neevy, who slept in my lap, and opening to a page near the beginning. “Look, there's a section on how to spot a selkie.”

The first thing you must learn about Selkies is how to recognize them in the wild. Should you come across one in its Seal form, you will not be able to tell if it is a shape-shifter or not. It is impossible. However, if you see a person and wonder perhaps if it is really a Selkie in Human form, there are ways to tell, if you are a noticing type of person:

1. Eyes and hair as black as night.

2. Slight to moderate webbing between fingers and/or toes. (The flippers never quite completely shift away.)

3. Possession of a fine gray or silver-black coat or cloak.

A combination of all three must exist. In addition, do not fear if you happen to meet one of these creatures in your endeavors. They are said to be the most devoted of parents and are known for making good fish pots.

“Sounds a little like Mum,” Ione said. “Except that this book is boring and Mum was never boring.”

It did sound a little like Mum.

“Aw, come on, Ione. Mum loved this kind of thing, didn't she? Remember when she took us out in the
Dreaming Lass
looking for the selkies' isle
?
”

Ione was squirmy. I knew what was coming next.

“We've been gone too long.”

I nodded. “Yes, we should go.” There was still more to do while we were out. “Come on. We have to get some sugar.”

 

The Streets of Selkie Bay

I
ONE TRIED TO CONVINCE ME
we didn't need sugar.

“I'll just take some packets from the tea tray at Maura's. She won't care.”

“We have to buy some, Da said so. And he didn't mean to just take someone else's.”

“It's not like we use much, anyway. And when did you find the sugar jar? Is it empty? I haven't seen it in weeks.”

No one has. No one but Mum.

We were quick, in and out of Flipper's Fast-Mart in a matter of minutes with a small bag of sugar.

“Let's go home now,” said Ione, jiggling the pram to wake Neevy. “See, Neevy's awake and she's going to be hungry. Or she's going to cry. We should go home.”

“No, Ione. We are not going home yet. Since we walked all the way here, we are going to see if any of these stores will give us a job.”

She jiggled the pram more forcefully, but Neevy, bless her, slept through it. “You are not serious,” Ione said.

But I was.

I led us farther down the main street of Selkie Bay. The wind had kicked up, making it chilly for a summer morning. The road widened and led to the harbor and to the tourist shops that lined the water like colorful jewels in a king's crown. Next to the bright aqua of the Mermaid's Tresses was the dazzling emerald green of Seal Biscuits
,
a bakery that had nothing to do with seals, but everything to do with the best chocolate cookies in the world. Those were the treats that Maura kept in the jar on the counter of her salon. Seal Biscuits had striped awnings that matched the green outer walls perfectly.

Next to the bakery was Whale of a Tale
,
a bookstore painted bright red, with characters from famous stories carved into the heavy wooden door. It was my favorite shop because the owner never seemed to notice if you just sat in a chair and read books but never bought any. And across from the bookshop was the giant orange smiley-seal sign of Chippy's Fish and Chips
.
Even though Ione feared sliding around on all the splattered oil she was certain covered the floor, we still had to go in and try.

“Can you imagine having to scrape up all that grease?” She groaned. “Gross.”

Unfortunately, it was the same story from one business to the next. Well, not the same story, exactly, but they started the same.
“Oh, Cordelia and Ione Sullivan. Haven't seen you around in a while. Oh, look at the baby. My, how she's grown! So sorry about your … well…”
(This was where their eyes shifted around, trying to find the right place to look, which was anywhere but at our faces; our shoes were popular locations.)
“What brings you in?”

And I told them that I was looking for a job. Then Ione would say,
“I'm not cleaning the loo.”

Here's where the stories changed. Sometimes it was because their nieces and nephews were visiting for the season and so they were already helping out. Sometimes it was because business was slow. Sometimes it was because they had just hired one of the Patel boys from down the road and if only I had come in sooner, they would have done a proper interview. Sometimes it was because Ione and I were awfully young and they didn't want to get in trouble with the authorities for violating any labor laws.

But the last part was the same in every shop.

“I am so sorry, Cordelia.”

*   *   *